Only in Time

  Lime green eyes locked with hers. A twinkle of humor played within them, and the side of his mouth as it crooked. “Savannah will always be home. But no, I don’t live here anymore. Only came back to help out Theo.”

  The Fates hated her. Why else had this happened? The odds of them running into each other, under such circumstances, should have been impossible. Yet here they stood, a mere foot away from each other. At least he’d be leaving soon. Probably after the show.

  “Are you guys heading out after this gig?”

  He took a few steps toward the outer wall, leaning his back against it as he tucked his hands in his pockets. “No. Well, I shouldn’t even be here right now. I was scheduled to leave this afternoon, but another opportunity presented itself, so I’m staying until the fifteenth.”

  Ally couldn’t help but wonder if she were this other opportunity. Now that he knew she lived here, had he decided to stick around and play with her heart some more? As if he hadn’t done enough damage six years ago.

  “Is this your last stop on the tour?”

  His brow creased as he stared at her. “Um, I’m not on—oh, wait a minute. Of course you would think that.” A chuckle slipped past his lips. “I left Theo’s band almost a year after you left. I’m actually a sound producer, now. Long story on how that happened, but that’s what led me to L.A.”

  “Oh.” Ally couldn’t muster anything else. Curiosity took hold. Music meant the world to Jonah. Rather, making music. What would make him want to give that up to produce?

  She shouldn’t care. The more she learned about him, the harder it would be to forget about him once he left. And he would leave. Would break her heart again if she allowed it.

  The tension between them increased the longer they stared at each other in silence. Guess this turned just as awkward for him. Good. Maybe he would say his goodbyes and leave her in peace.

  He cleared his throat, shifting his stance to the other foot. The wall continued to support him while he gawked at her. “Well, since I’m in town for another week…” Here it came. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go—”

  Metal smacked against the concrete as a woman came running out the door. Not just any woman. Cassie.

  “God, there you are!” She made her way to Ally, not acknowledging Jonah’s presence. “What are you doing out here? I thought you were going to wait in the bathroom for five minutes.”

  All the blood pulsing through Ally’s veins rushed to her cheeks, stinging them to the point her eyes watered. While she struggled to answer, she gazed back at Jonah. Cassie’s eyes followed, landing on him as well. She hesitated, giving him a lookover before turning back to Ally. “Oh.” Was that a smile trying to form on her lips? “Am I interrupting?”

  Sweet god, this wasn’t really happening. She prayed she’d wake up soon. Find out that all of this had been a nightmare.

  “You’re not interrupting. I’m sorry I’m late.”

  The bridge of Cassie’s nose crinkled. “Late? Sweetie, I just came to check on you. Three minutes early.”

  Had Cassie managed to down another Manhattan? She was drunk if she thought she came back early.

  “Cass, we were supposed to meet up five minutes ago. You’re not early.” Did they really have to keep rehashing this in front of Jonah? Especially the part about her waiting in the bathroom.

  “You should have timed yourself.” Cassie shrugged. “I came back early.”

  “I did time it,” Ally growled. “I looked at my watch the minute you stepped out the door.”

  “Is that right?” Cassie gave Jonah one more glance before crossing her arms over her chest. “So you didn’t use your phone?”

  “No. I just said that I used my watch.”

  Cassie stepped closer, wrapping her hand around Ally’s wrist. Pointing to the watch with her other hand, her brow shot to the sky. “You timed yourself on this thing? After you were late for the comedy show?”

  Another wave of heat bit at Ally’s cheeks. Guess the watch her mother gave her really was jacked up. Great. If replacing the battery didn’t work, she’d ask her mom where she bought the watch. Then she’d go demand a replacement. Or a refund.

  “How long before the cab gets here?”

  Cassie parted her lips to answer, but not before Jonah pushed off the wall. “You’re leaving already? It’s still early.”

  Ally swallowed hard, hoping like hell he wouldn’t flash her those puppy eyes he used to give her whenever he wanted her to do something. Like stay out late. Or rob her mom’s liquor cabinet, which she didn’t mind since it prevented her mother from drinking it.

  “I have somewhere to be in the morning. I need sleep.” Her eyes met back with Cassie’s, noting the way her friend pursed her lips. Would she expose Ally’s lie?

  “Tomorrow is Saturday.” Jonah grumbled. “What could you possibly… You know what. It’s none of my business.”

  Maybe it was the darkness of the alley they stood in, or the shadows the nearby streetlight cast across his face. But for a moment, Ally thought she saw a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes. A genuine look of disappointment.

  She didn’t get the chance to find out, either. The door burst open once again, revealing another face that was as familiar as Jonah’s. Theo McCabe.

  “Hey Jonah, we’re gonna—whoa.” He stopped short of the doorway, his eyes glued to the woman on Ally’s left. “Cassie? Cassie Clarke?”

  “Theo McCabe. Long time no see.”

  “You ain’t lying,” Theo chuckled. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Cassie. His childhood crush on her hadn’t faded. Not with the way his eyes roamed every inch of her.

  Finally shifting his attention to Ally, she watched as he scanned her from head to toe. He started to turn away. Then realization sparked in his eyes. “Holy shit… Cassie Clarke and Ally Jacobs. This is an all around blast from the past.”

  His laughter erupted between them. Good to know someone found humor in their awkwardness. Ally wished she could.

  “So, ladies, what are you doing after the show?” Theo continued. His focus shifted back to Cassie, who, to Ally’s surprise, seemed to be enjoying Theo’s attention.

  “We’re actually waiting on a cab. Ally has to get up early tomorrow.” Thankfully, Cassie decided to keep up the ruse, though it cost Ally a you-owe-me-big-time look. “Maybe we can get together whenever you guys come back to town.”

  “Oh, I’ll be here a couple weeks.” Theo’s cheesy grin had Ally wanting to laugh. At least until he continued, “Jonah’s leaving out the week after next, but he’ll be back. Should we call you to set something up before he leaves?”

  “Why don’t you give me your number? I’ll check back with you.”

  “I hope so,” Theo mumbled, waiting for Cassie to record his number in her contact list.

  Ally’s eyes made it back to Jonah. The somberness hadn’t left his face, nor had his eyes left hers. Was this part of his game, too? Play the love struck guy who desperately hoped for a chance to be with her.

  Like she’d ever fall for that. No matter how much she might fantasize about it.

  Just as Cassie finished punching in Theo’s number, the back door to the bar opened once more. Mike stood there, eyeing each one of them, especially Theo, before stopping on Cassie. “Your cab’s out front.”

  “Thanks, Mike.” Cassie winked. She turned to Ally, tugging on her shirtsleeve. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  She’d almost made it to the door when Jonah stepped in front of her. He reached in his pocket, pulling out a card before handing it to her. “My cell is on here. If you want to get together before I leave…” His eyes fell to her hand, waiting for her to take the card. And when she did, he met her gaze once more. “It was good seeing you, Ally.”

  * * *

  Jonah plopped down on the bed in his hotel suite, enjoying the cool, crispness of the sheets. The buzz of alcohol left the room swaying when he closed his eyes. He
knew he should have stopped after the eighth shot. Too bad Theo had talked him into hitting another bar once they finished the set at Midnight Blues.

  He couldn’t place all the blame on his brother, or the few friends they ended up meeting. Running into Ally tonight made it easier to kick back each shot. Especially when the thought of her dancing played through his mind.

  Damn.

  As if she wasn’t beautiful enough the last time he saw her. The last six years had molded her into a knockout. Five-foot five inches of mouth-watering lips, curvaceous hips, and legs that stretched forever.

  What he wouldn’t give to feel those legs wrapped around his waist…

  Reopening his eyes, he cursed himself for thinking about her again. This is how he made it to eight shots. Because he couldn’t do anything but fantasize about her. Just like he did years ago.

  So she’d moved back to Savannah. Figures. Too bad she did it five years too late.

  Had he actually given her his business card? Like she would actually call him. She probably threw it away as soon as she arrived home. He didn’t doubt that Cassie had deleted Theo’s number as well.

  Love struck idiot. Hell, they both were. He couldn’t allow Ally under his skin this time, or close to his heart.

  Gripping the sheets beneath him, he groaned as loud as he could. He should have stuck to his original plan. Turn on the charm. Convince her to take him to her place where he could live out every fantasy he’d ever had about her. Then he could have left in the middle of the night and never spoke to her again.

  The thought of her naked body pressed to his made his body heat. Did he honestly think he could walk away from such a sight as her curled up beside him?

  He had to try. Or else he’d lose his heart in Savannah again.

  CHAPTER 6

  A sultry breeze blew wisps of hair from Ally’s neck. Not even the wind could provide relief from the scorching sun beating down from above. She shielded her eyes, taking in the brick buildings of Whitaker Street’s Historical District.

  Beads of sweat spilled over her hand from the sweet tea clutched inside. She placed the straw to her lips, anxious to taste the sugary goodness, but finding a watered-down version instead.

  At least the cup was still cool. She pressed it to her forehead, fighting back heat exhaustion. The beauty of living in the South. The heat. Not just any heat. The type that made her want to remain locked in her house until the calendar showed December. Who needed a sauna? Savannah summers brought about the same effect.

  Taking one last sip of her watered-down tea, she tossed the cup in a trash can before turning the corner at Broughton Street. Her eyes trailed across a new set of shops eager for her patronage. Not that she had time. Literally. She had to find the antique store where her mother purchased the watch before her lunch break ended. Either they would fix it, give her a new one, or refund her mom’s money.

  As she stood near the curb, Ally waited for the do-not-walk sign to switch. The words no longer lit up the sign. Instead, a red hand glared back at her. She counted six cars passing by before the traffic light turned red.

  Once the white, stickman lit up the crossing sign, Ally stepped off the curb. She passed a red sports car, each step she took in perfect rhythm with the bass booming from the car. Ally recognized the song, though the name of the artist escaped her. The longer she listened, the more she wanted to shimmy and shake.

  Of course, she did plenty of that over the weekend.

  Her cheeks burned, though she couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or the heat.

  Stepping up on the sidewalk, Ally brushed past other people walking down the street. Her mind focused on Jonah. How neither of them could take their eyes off each other. How his playing brought her body to life, as did the attention he gave her. She wished he hadn’t given her his business card. Now he would expect her call.

  Meeting up with him would lead down a road she couldn’t travel. Because that road had too many twists and turns that would end up taking her over the edge.

  A car’s horn honked in passing, startling Ally. Between the consuming thoughts of Jonah and the threat of heat exhaustion, she turned toward the first door she saw. Maybe a change of scenery would get her back in perspective or at least save her a trip to the hospital. Right now, a summerhouse in Alaska sounded like a piece of heaven.

  The bell atop the oak door jingled to life. Her eyes moved up, noting the vintage sign that hung above. The words Mystique Antiques stared back at her. Finally!

  She put one foot inside the door when the air from a nearby vent swept across her face. Inhaling deeply, she enjoyed the way it cooled her damp blouse. Even the dusty scent of aged merchandise smelled better than the scent of skin baking in the hot Savannah sun.

  She walked around the store, glimpsing at racks of used items that most folks called ‘antique’. A set of Pickard china caught her eye. She studied the set before reminding herself why she’d come.

  Passing a mahogany grandfather clock, a shelf full of vintage handbags competed with the rack of silk scarves for her attention. The scarves won her over. She rubbed the material between her fingers, wondering if her mother would wear such a thing.

  She released the scarf, continuing her journey toward the register.

  Stepping up to the case, she noticed an older woman standing behind a glass counter. Her lips curled, accentuating the lines around her mouth. Bright eyes twinkled under the light as Ally approached.

  “Is there something I can help you with, sugar?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear then adjusted the clip that held her silver strands above her neck.

  “Yes, ma’am. I hope so.”

  “Call me Twila, darlin’.”

  Ally didn’t know the woman from the next Joe Schmoe she crossed on the street, but something about the lady’s presence seemed comforting.

  Giving her a nod, Ally unclasped the watch on her wrist. She set the item on the counter, pushing it toward Twila. “My mother bought this watch from you a week ago. She gave it to me as a birthday gift, but I think it may be broken.”

  A crease formed between Twila’s brows. “Oh goodness. What seems to be the problem?”

  The more Ally stared at the sweet woman, the less angrier she grew about the watch. But she still wanted some type of compensation. “It keeps losing time. I’ve been late meeting a friend and then too early for another meeting. I thought maybe it was the battery, but I couldn’t figure out how to change it.”

  Twila’s fingers curled around the watch as she brought it closer to her face. “Oh yes, I remember this watch. It has quite a story attached to it.”

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “Forgive me. I’m a bit of a history buff. All the items in my store have interesting stories behind them. Just like this watch. It’s very old, you know. Predates the Civil War.”

  No wonder the stupid thing wasn’t working.

  “Wow,” Ally chuckled. “I had no idea it was that antique.”

  Nodding her head, Twila leaned her elbows on the counter, turning the piece in her hands. “Wristwatches weren’t very popular until the 1920’s. But they’ve existed since the late 1500’s. This watch belonged to Abigail Hamilton, the daughter of a prominent family in Atlanta. From what I’ve gathered, she received the watch as a gift from an unknown sender. There was a note attached with a cryptic message. The heart does not see through blind eyes. Only the mind. Time matters not.”

  A chill ran up Ally’s spine. Maybe the watch was haunted. And the ghost wanted to screw with everyone else’s time since time no longer mattered to it.

  “That’s kind of creepy.”

  “Oh, the story gets stranger,” Twila chuckled, gazing back across the counter at Ally. “The Hamiltons never found the person who sent the gift. Then to make matters worse, their daughter went missing six years later.”

  Ally’s stomach knotted. Her mother had gifted her the watch of a dead woman.

  “You’re right. That is strange. Did the
y ever find her?”

  Pushing off the counter, Twila’s brows rose higher. “Funny you should ask. In the 70’s, a local artist started receiving a lot of recognition for his paintings. When a historian from Atlanta caught wind, she went to see his work…and nearly fainted.”

  It was Ally who leaned on the glass counter this time. Hadn’t even realized it until the heat of the lights below warmed her arms. “Dare I ask why she almost fainted?”

  “Of course, darlin’. It would be a pointless story if you didn’t.” Twila smiled. “All the paintings on display were of a woman. One the artist didn’t know from anywhere but his imagination. But the historian recognized her as Abigail Hamilton.”

  The news had Ally hanging on to every last word passing through Twila’s lips. “How is that possible? Was he lying about not knowing who she was?”

  “Not at all.” Twila gazed at the watch. She stroked the face as though the watch had carried her away on some mystical journey. More like a mystical tale. One Ally found hard to believe but interesting just the same.

  “So was it a coincidence that he painted this woman’s picture?”

  “One would think. Because short of a picture owned by a museum in Atlanta, there were none of the young woman. All the family portraits were lost when their house burned down during Sherman’s invasion. The only one that survived came from a relative who had asked for it after the girl’s disappearance. That person lived in Massachusetts.”

  “I don’t get it,” Ally said, shaking her head as her eyes fell to the watch in Twila’s hand. “How could he paint a picture of a woman who lived a century before he did?”

  Shrugging her shoulders, Twila continued to flip the watch, giving it a good lookover. “No one knows for sure, but a year later, the man went to see the historian, again. He brought his new bride with him. A woman he met just a few weeks after the historian made the connection with the paintings. Guess who she looked like.”