Rifts and Refrains (Hush Note Book 2) by Devney Perry

Author:Devney Perry [Perry, Devney]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Devney Perry LLC
Published: 2020-09-28T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Graham

“That was the first funeral I’ve ever been to with Christmas carols.” Jonas chuckled from the seat behind mine.

“Very original,” Ethan said. “Now I know where you get your love of carols from.”

“Yeah.” Quinn gave a soft laugh.

I was eavesdropping.

Quinn, Jonas and a man I heard her call Ethan, her tour manager, were sitting at the table behind mine.

The healthy thing to do would be stand and find another spot for Colin and me to sit, but I couldn’t seem to stop listening.

“How you doing?” Jonas asked.

“I’m okay,” Quinn murmured. “It was a nice service, wasn’t it?”

“You stole the show.” Ethan voiced my own thoughts.

Bradley had spoken nice words for his mother and brought a few people to tears, but Quinn’s singing—she’d hit everyone in the heart.

That velvet voice held an edge today, like she’d been singing through the tears and heartache. And through it, she’d looked at me.

Maybe I should have explained myself better when I’d found her in the downstairs bathroom. Maybe she wouldn’t have been so pissed. But I knew she wouldn’t have gone through with it had I been beside her at the piano. She would have let me carry the song.

And she would have regretted it.

Quinn didn’t like goodbyes, but she’d managed to say one with that song today.

That was why Nan had asked her to do it, right? Because Nan knew Quinn would feel guilty for not returning to Bozeman. And Nan hadn’t wanted that for her girl.

So I’d forced her to sing alone.

Just so she’d sing.

Quinn had held my gaze until about three-quarters of the way through “Torchlight” when her eyes had drifted shut and her voice had peaked. She’d filled the empty corners of the hall, wrapping herself around every person, cloaking them with the music.

Nan would have loved it.

It had been perfect.

“That version of ‘Torchlight’ was . . . that was incredible, Quinn,” Jonas said.

“Thanks.”

“You’ve never mentioned singing something for an album. Why?”

Interesting. So they hadn’t shoved her aside, forcing her out of the spotlight. She’d kept her talent a secret from everyone, even her best friends.

“You’re the singer,” Quinn said. “Not me. I’ll stick to the instruments.”

“If you ever change your mind, a vocal from you on an album would be badass. Think about it.”

I didn’t need to see her face to know she gave him some uncommitted gesture, blowing off the suggestion. “Speaking of albums, any update on Harvey?”

“He’s still thinking about a visit, but I’ve managed to stall him for a couple of weeks. Has he been texting?”

“Every. Day.”

Her voice sounded stressed and irritated. She hadn’t let on that she was dealing with pressure from her producer. Though why would she? We weren’t friends. Quinn and I didn’t talk. We fought.

And last night, we’d fucked.

“Whatever,” Jonas mumbled. “We’re not worrying about it today. The album will get done.”

“How’s your stuff coming?” she asked.

“I’ve got about five songs roughed out and they’re in pretty good shape actually, so he’s happy about that. Though he says they’re a little on the fluffy side.

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