After a long semester, college student Tawny Beschen is more than ready for a relaxing winter break. Hanging out at rehearsals for her dad’s metal band is just what she needs. Familiar people, familiar music, and a familiar routine... It’s an overwhelmed autistic’s dream. Then the new guitarist walks in, and her safe, predictable world implodes.
Malachi Vandermeer is grateful for the opportunity to play guitar for Death Pardon. After a rough few years, the family-like relationship of the band is what he needs. Then he meets Tawny. Her sweet innocence creates an instant attraction, but his past makes him afraid to let it grow.
Can Tawny and Malachi overcome their challenges and have a merry Christmas together?
As Jack plugged his guitar into the amplifier, a handful of other people stepped into the room, talking and laughing.
From the voices, Max Osborn, Dale Hibbert, Alan Sanders, and Mike Hill were all there. That left Jimmy George as the only man missing, but the guitarist was almost always late. It was another part of the rehearsal routine.
“Hey, Tawny,” Alan said, “you mind if I take the mic now?”
She lifted her fingers from the smooth metal of the stand and stepped back. “Oh, sorry.”
“No worries. Long semester?”
“I think I’m brain dead,” she said, shoving her hands in the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt.
Alan chuckled and adjusted the microphone. “You must be glad you’re on winter break, then.”
“Yeah.” She wandered away as the men prepared to start their rehearsal. Minutes after she stretched out on the floor and stared up at the ceiling with its recessed lights, someone else entered the room.
A stranger around her age. He was cute with his dark brown hair and a day’s growth of beard shadowing his jaw.
The sudden change in routine broke through her relaxed state. A rush of anxiety immobilized her. She curled into a ball on the carpet and pressed her sleeve-covered fist to her mouth to muffle the crying.
“Hey, Tawny, are you all right?” Her father’s quiet voice meant she hadn’t done a great job of hiding her tears. “You want to tell me about it?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. After a few breaths, she rolled halfway over and looked directly into her father’s face. “That’s not Jimmy.”
Dad’s features filled with sympathy, and he smoothed her hair back. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
Dread washed over her. “He’s not dead, is he?”
“No! He’s still going strong.” Dad rubbed her shoulder. “He decided it was time to move on to other things, so we found ourselves a new guitarist a few months ago.”
“I…I think you told me about that when I was working on that paper that drove me nuts. Some guy with a Bible name or something.”
“That’s right. His name is Malachi Vandermeer. Would you like to meet him?”
Dale was talking to the new guy on the far side of the room.
Insecurity slammed into her. Would he want to meet her?
Her dad held his hand out. “It’s a little hard to introduce you if you don’t come with me.”
“He probably thinks I’m an idiot or a psycho.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Dad gave her a brief yet soothing hug. “When I came to see about you, Dale said he’d explain to Malachi.”
“I feel like an idiot.” Humiliation threatened to make her cry again.
“There’s no need for it. A lot of college students get stressed out with their classes, and they don’t have the added struggles you do. You rock, girl, for overcoming that and making the dean’s list anyway. Now, let’s go introduce you to the newbie so you can quit worrying.”
She dropped her gaze to the floor, more comfortable looking at the ugly utilitarian carpet than risking seeing what was in anyone’s eyes. Dale’s familiar skater shoes and an unfamiliar pair of sneakers came into view. They looked as if they’d walked across the country and back. Tawny stole a glance at their owner.
Malachi offered a smile.
Tawny looked back down.
“Malachi, this is my daughter, Tawny. Tawny, meet Malachi Vandermeer, our new guitarist.”
“Hi.” She managed to make eye contact just long enough to discover he had the most gorgeous brown eyes she’d ever seen.