Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
As the party continued, Crystal found herself gravitating toward the water’s edge. The Pacific stretched out before her, an inky expanse dotted with starlight. She breathed in the salty air, trying to steady her racing thoughts.
“Hiding from your own party?” Damien’s voice, warm with amusement, came from behind her.
Crystal turned, a smile tugging at her lips. “Just needed a moment. It’s been quite a night.”
Damien nodded, moving to stand beside her. “You outdid yourself, Crys. I haven’t seen this many rich and famous people in one place since I was a guest artist at the Oscars.”
She shrugged like it was nothing, though she had worked her butt off to make this party perfect. They stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching the mesmerizing ocean, the sounds of the party fading into the background. Crystal glanced back toward the dwindling crowd, spotting all the familiar faces.
“Your family seemed to enjoy themselves,” she said. “I saw Erin in fits of giggles with Jay earlier. And Archer and Tessa practically never left the dance floor.”
Damien chuckled. “Yeah, Archer’s got it bad. I can’t believe how loved up he is even after getting married. Poor Tessa.” He laughed again, then narrowed his gaze as he looked over to where Jay had one arm slung around Smith Sullivan’s neck and the other around Erin’s. “As for Jay Malone, he knows I’m watching him. He’d better be good to Erin.”
Crystal smiled, knowing how protective Damien was of his little sister, and how much she didn’t need him or anyone else smothering her. Erin was strong and she knew her own mind—perhaps more than any of the other Davenport siblings. To Damien she simply said, “She’s really happy.”
Damien turned to her. “And you’d know. You’ve been best friends for what? Twenty years?”
“Something like that. Although now you’re making me feel old.” Crystal laughed, then asked, “Where’s Nick? I didn’t see much of him this evening.”
“He’s probably behind a potted plant, coding the next big app on his phone,” Damien said with a fond eye roll. “You know how he gets at parties. He’s introverted enough that he’ll use any excuse to crawl off into a corner, press a few buttons, and make a few more million.”
Crystal scoffed. “I doubt it’s that easy.”
Damien looked serious for a moment. “He thinks all I do is pick up a guitar, bang out a few chords, and a few more million roll in.”
“But you both love and respect each other, and that’s what matters.” She almost felt like another Davenport sister, smoothing the jokey rivalries between the brothers. The breeze picked up, and Crystal shivered slightly. Without a word, Damien shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. The gesture, so simple and thoughtful, made her heart swell.
“Thanks,” she murmured, pulling the jacket closer. It smelled like him—a mix of sandalwood and something uniquely Damien. “So, rock star, how does it feel to play for the hometown crowd?”
“It felt good. But this is where I’m always happiest.” He glanced at the curving beach below them, deserted at this hour. “This is home.”
Crystal leaned against him for a moment, enjoying his warmth, a nostalgic smile playing on her lips. “Remember when you used to play for much smaller crowds? Just you, your guitar, and whoever happened to be on the beach?”
“How could I forget? That’s where it all started.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Who would’ve thought some record exec would be strolling by one day and hear me?”
“I did,” Crystal said softly, nudging his shoulder. “I always knew you’d make it big.”
Damien’s expression softened. “And I always wished you’d come along for the ride. You would’ve been an amazing manager, Crys.”
Crystal laughed, the sound carried away by the ocean breeze. “Me? On tour? Please. I’m more of a roots-firmly-planted kind of girl.” She gestured toward the party. “Besides, my little business isn’t too shabby.”
“Little?” Damien raised an eyebrow. “Crystal, you just threw a multimillion-dollar bash at Pebble Beach.”
She leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes twinkling. “I have clients who can afford to hire you, you know.”
Damien’s laughter joined hers, deep and warm. “And I only agreed to this gig because you asked me.”
Crystal’s heart fluttered, and she found herself studying his profile in the moonlight. Had his jawline always been so defined? She shook off the thought, reminding herself that this was Damien—one of her oldest friends, not some unattainable rock god.
“Well, aren’t I lucky, then?” she said, aiming for levity. “Having a world-famous musician at my beck and call.”
Crystal’s words hung in the air, charged with an electricity that neither of them had expected. Damien turned to face her, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her breath catch.
“Maybe I’m the lucky one,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
The distant sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the silence between them. Crystal’s heart raced as Damien’s hand found hers, his callused fingertips sending a shiver up her arm. He held her hand for a moment, squeezing it gently, then let it go.