Page 7 of Art of Love

“Born and raised,” she said a little dryly.

“You don’t seem too interested in the town-wide party.”

She let out a short laugh, finally turning her body towards him. “Let me guess. You think bonfire parties are all small towns do for fun?”

“Well… aren’t they?”

That earned him a smirk. “We do other things too. We fish. Ride horses. Get in bar fights. Occasionally tip a cow or two.”

“Seriously? That’s a real thing?” Abe chuckled when she smirked. “Sounds like a wild time.”

“We get by.”

Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was oddly easy. Abe couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a conversation with someone who didn’t expect anything from him. Who didn’t try to impress him or make him feel like he owed them something just because of who he was.

Dylan took another sip of her drink, then gave him a once-over, finally showing the first sign of interest. “So, what’s your story? Are you new in town, or just passing through?”

He could have given her the usual answer. The one he gave in interviews about how he was taking some time off, how he needed a break from the road, how he was looking for a little peace and quiet.

But for some reason, he just said, “A friend asked me to be his best man. He needed some help with horses, and then asked me to watch his place as he heads off on his honeymoon.”

Dylan nodded like that made perfect sense. Then she smirked and motioned to the growing crowd. “Well, just a heads-up. If you’re looking for peace and quiet, you came to the wrong place.”

Abe laughed, tipping his beer in her direction. “Noted.”

And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like the famous Abe Collins. Just a guy at a bonfire, flirting with a girl who didn’t seem to care too much who he was.

And damn if that wasn’t a nice change.

Then Max tapped on his shoulder and handed him a guitar. “Time to earn your room and board.” He nodded as he realized everyone around them was watching and waiting on him. Well, damn. When he started singing, he glanced over at Dylan and was thankful she didn’t seem all that surprised at how good he was.

Chapter Three

Just remain calm, Dylan kept telling herself as she rubbed knees with Abe while he sang one of her favorite songs of all time. Everyone in town was glued to his performance. Some even sang along when he got to the chorus.

With everyone in Pride in attendance, and with their eyes on the man sitting next her, she could no longer hide that she was back. She had heard about the bonfire earlier that morning at Sara’s Nook and, since stepping onto the beach, she’d run into several people she knew.

She had managed to avoid long conversations the way she always did, by asking uncomfortable questions. After a few quick chats, she’d been left alone so she could get on with her job. Watching Abe.

The last thing she’d expected from the man was for him to actually cross the beach and start to flirt with her. Her. Boring Dylan. No-friends-on-the-planet Dylan.

She’d learned to hide her emotions over the years. Bullying, teasing, and name-calling no longer got under her skin. She had toughened up years ago and allowed nothing and no one to get through to her tender heart.

But damn if Abe Collins wasn’t testing her resolve.

Dylan kept her face neutral, her body still, even as the heat from the fire and the man’s presence beside her threatened to melt away the walls she’d spent years building. His voice—low, smooth, sexy as hell, and filled with something raw—wrapped around her, sinking into the parts of her she’d locked away long ago.

She wouldn’t let him see it. Her nerves. Her doubts in herself. Wouldn’t let him see that every note of the song sent a shiver down her spine. That the lyrics, which had once felt like they belonged to another world, now felt so personal.

He probably didn’t even realize what he was doing to her.

The crowd around them had gone silent, completely mesmerized by the impromptu performance. People swayed, some singing along, some recording on their phones, but Dylan kept her focus on the fire, pretending like she wasn’t sitting hip-to-hip with the man she’d spent years listening to in private.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, the song ended.

Cheers erupted. A few people whistled. Someone even called out, “Play another one!”

Abe chuckled, shaking his head as he handed the borrowed guitar back to its owner. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”