Harmony's Embrace

By Amber Daulton

Divorced dad Birley Haynes is too busy raising his children and running his family's music academy to start a relationship. Then accountant Harmony Holdich, his high school sweetheart, returns home to Willow Springs, Vermont for Christmas and falls into his bed. She brings light and fun back into his life, but he can't brush aside the threatening incidents around his workplace.

Harmony hadn't expected a complication like Birley, especially so soon after the death of her unfaithful husband. With her life a mess, she plans to move across the country and start over. All she can offer him is a fling, but her heart yearns for more.

When the threats rise, how will Birley keep his children safe and convince Harmony to give love another chance?

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Nov 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781509234677

Amber Daulton

Amber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through The Wild Rose Press, Books to Go Now, and Daulton Publishing, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats. She lives in North Carolina with her husband and demanding cats. Feel free to visit her at her Website.

Book preview

Inc.

A penny for your thoughts? Harmony licked a dab of brown mustard from her finger.

He rolled his cramping shoulders. Just thinking about the past, the mistakes I made, the things I wish I could change. Shit. Where was the super glue for his mouth?

If he had the chance to go back in time and fix things with Harmony before their relationship skidded off the rails, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t, no matter how much he wanted to. He loved Andy and Kay more than anything. Without Susannah, he wouldn’t have his kids.

I’ve missed you, Harmony. He reached across the table and grasped her hand. You’ve been through a tough time, so we should stop flirting. I want to be friends again. His shaft throbbed in rebellion, the stubborn thing.

She slid her thumb across his knuckles, shooting sparks up his arm.

Was friendship the answer? Would it be enough?

Praise for Amber Daulton…

…and HARMONY’S EMBRACE:

"This talented author does it again… Action-packed and suspenseful, HARMONY’S EMBRACE immerses you in a story of two people trying to find joy in their lives after tragedy and betrayal."

~D. V. Stone, author of Rock House Grill

~*~

"HARMONY’S EMBRACE is a lovely tale of old flames giving love a second chance. Daulton writes with detailed prose and sweet emotion. Highly recommend!"

~E.R. Whyte, author

~*~

…and LYRICAL EMBRACE:

Ms. Daulton has crafted a well thought-out story of two people who need one another to heal the hurts of their pasts.

~Peggy Jaeger, author of Hope’s Dream

~*~

I love a book that takes me on the characters’ journey with vivid descriptions and realistic…characters, interactions, and down-to-earth dialog.

~Tena Stetler, author of Mystic Maples

Harmony’s Embrace

by

Amber Daulton

Deerbourne Inn

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Harmony’s Embrace

COPYRIGHT © 2021 by Amber Daulton

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Abigail Owen

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Crimson Rose Edition, 2021

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-3467-7

Deerbourne Inn

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

I want to wish a big thank you to my editor, ELF,

for your continued support

and to my critique partners

for helping me shape up this story.

Your advice has been invaluable.

To my hubby, Greg,

I’m so grateful you spent a whole night with me

going back and forth in how to fix a potentially embarrassing plot error that I almost didn’t catch.

Thank you for your patience.

Chapter One

Harmony’s back? Birley Haynes snapped upright in the office chair. Have you been listening to gossip?

Nonsense. It can’t be gossip if I spoke to her.

His mother, Brenda, smoothed a wrinkle from her pantsuit and sat in one of the padded chairs in front of his father’s desk.

No, his desk. Birley scribbled a note on a sticky pad and repeatedly flicked the tab on the top of his pen. The click echoed in his ears, keeping time with his racing pulse.

After thirty-plus years running the family business, Haynes Music Academy, his parents were semi-retiring at the end of the year. Was he up to taking over? The last thing he needed was a distraction like Harmony Holdich Corwin, no matter how hot his blood sizzled at hearing her name.

Mischief gleamed in his mother’s dark eyes, or was that the overhead light?

A smile winged across her lips. I bumped into Harmony at the grocery store, I swear it. Ask Bethany Wilton. She rang us up.

He grimaced. Hell no. Talking to Bethany about anything, especially outside the academy, would lead to trouble. She worked at Brady’s Foods and Pharmacy and was one of Birley’s best pupils in his advanced pipes class. Unfortunately, she was crushing on him, hard. How long could he ignore the problem, given her constantly batting her eyelids and trying to touch him? She was only in high school, for God’s sake. He had to man-up and speak with her about this—or better yet, speak with her parents.

I’m proud of you. Brenda hooked a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. But you’re always so serious, and you’ve got to live a little. Have fun. You act like you’re my age—a very fine forty-nine—instead of thirty-one.

He lifted his eyebrow at her exaggeration. His mother was a beautiful, sassy woman, but she was closer to sixty years old than she would ever admit.

Be young and wild while you can. Go find Harmony. She’s probably at Finnigan’s.

He snorted and tossed down the pen. Someone had smashed his windshield with a brick the previous week, and he found a dead opossum on the doorstep that morning. What would happen next? "Fun isn’t in my vocabulary, not when I have to worry about vicious pranks."

The wrinkles around her eyes tightened. It has to be kids, but who would go that far?

Not kids. How he knew that, he wasn’t sure, but he’d bet every penny in his bank account on it. Someone was targeting him and the academy. What kind of cretin killed a poor animal, then left the bloody mess on the academy’s porch?

The police are keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious, so whoever this is will probably stop. She pursed her lips. But I’m not here to talk about that. I want you to relax, Birley. Taking a few days off and doing something fun won’t kill you. Dad and I didn’t hand you the reins for you to hide in this office and stop living your life.

He stiffened. I took yesterday off.

Only because it was Thanksgiving. Whoopee. She huffed.

Damn it, Mom. I’m okay. Dylan and Erica are babysitting the kids, so I’m staying late to check some files.

You’ve been here all day. Shouldn’t you have finished the paperwork by now?

After I spoke with the cops and Animal Control removed the opossum, I spent the morning scrubbing blood from the porch, then testing and cleaning the instruments. He stuffed a few folders into the plastic cubby tray on his desk. Classes would resume the following Monday, coinciding with the county school system’s schedule, so he had all weekend to clean his apartment and somehow convince his kids to help. Maybe he’d offer them cookies as a reward? His mother’s gaze bore into him, raising the fine hair on his nape. Thanks for coming in.

Fine. Have it your way. She slapped her knees and stood, then leaned over the cluttered desk to kiss his forehead. She grabbed her coat and purse and left the small office.

A door squeaked, then thudded shut. Silence rang in the large Victorian house.

He breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the computer. Dozens of client names, account and phone numbers, dates, and payments blurred together as he scrolled to the bottom of the spreadsheet. The numeric pad clicked as he smashed the keys, and he compared the total payments received from the current month to the spreadsheets from the past two Novembers.

Bingo. Profit was up. Offering more classes to accommodate the growing number of students offset the cost of hiring their new instructor—his brother’s fiancée, Erica.

Birley clicked on another document, his vision dulling. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Memories filled his head like random scenes from a movie—Harmony laughing as he teased her, smiling as they danced at prom, crying out his name as they made love. Then sorrow flashing in her eyes on graduation night.

The pain he’d caused her still ate away at him, but hell, he wasn’t the only one at fault.

A lump clogged his throat. How could he concentrate on work with Harmony on his mind? He hadn’t thought of her in months, then bam. She was back, twisting him inside out as she always had.

He strode to the business certificates, college diplomas, and awards on the far wall. His name was embellished on one of the business administration degrees in a cursive font, and he traced his fingertip across the top of the frame. A layer of dust coated his skin. Great. Something else he had to clean. He wiped his hand on his slacks.

The file cabinets and bookshelves lining the perimeter probably needed a good dusting. Not to mention his mother’s framed, signed poster of The Who. That piece of memorabilia was worth a small fortune in the right market. Like she’d ever sell it. Heat blew from the vent beneath the windowsill, clacking the blinds and slicking a fine layer of sweat on his skin.

The comfortable, familiar surroundings used to soothe him. Now, the beige walls boxed him in, constricting him until he struggled to breathe. He freed the top buttons of his shirt and fluffed the lapels. A light breeze dried the moisture beading on his chest. Much better.

Why was Harmony back? She didn’t come home every year for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Had she been in town long? Nah. Secrets never stayed hidden in small towns, especially not in Willow Springs, Vermont. With a population of about three thousand, everyone knew everyone. He would’ve heard about Harmony’s return before now.

He had to see her. Might as well get it over with. Or he would never get any work done.

After he shut down the computer and jerked on his wool coat, he walked down the glittery hallway. The scent of lemon and pine filled his nose.

Christmas had come early and with a vengeance. Even as the acting boss, he had zero say on the decorations. Otherwise, he would toss out the garland, lights, and wreaths littering the place. Maybe he’d keep the decked-out tree in the lobby, but that was it. Maybe.

He turned down the thermostat and set the alarm. Three beeps tinkled like wind chimes from the mounted security panel. Crisp night air nipped his face and hands as he hurried outside and locked up. The overhead light and the strings of holiday lights wrapped around the porch columns pushed back the darkness. Snow crunched as he jogged to his SUV.

Despite the cold, people strolled the downtown sidewalks. White Christmas lights twinkled like fireflies on the bare-limbed trees lining the streets. Several vehicles occupied the parking lot beside the bar, Finnigan’s, but then a car pulled from a parallel spot in front of the two-story brick building.

Birley swooped in and killed the engine. His thumping heart smacked hard against his ribs. If anyone knew where Harmony was, her uncle would. He forced himself from the warm vehicle and into the establishment.

Customer chatter and clinking dishware reverberated through the large room. Classic ’70s rock blasted from discreet speakers. Dim lights cast shadows across the walls and soothed his eyes while the aroma of fried food teased his nostrils. His mouth watered, and his stomach growled. Damn, he shouldn’t have skipped lunch.

Stan Holdich, Harmony’s uncle and the owner of Finnigan’s, stood behind the wall-to-wall bar, serving beer to a group of tourists. He met Birley’s gaze. A grin crossed his ruddy cheeks. He nodded toward the dining area and pulled another bottle from beneath the counter.

Families with kids occupied back-to-back booths. A few smiling couples filled the small round tables scattered throughout. Why had Stan indicated them?

Birley rubbed his neck. The air in his lungs suddenly froze.

Harmony waited tables across the room. Her faded jeans sheathed her ass like a second skin. A clingy tank top molded to the slope of her back. Stray locks escaped the clip restraining her wild brown curls at the