He chuckled. “But I have to say, I’m impressed with your Rocky and Creed knowledge.”
A.J. walked past the two massive side-by-side LCD TVs mounted on the wall to get to her.
“Oh my God, wait. Noooo.” She faced him, her eyes bright. “Grant’s dad is Booker Walker? The Booker Walker? Well-known blues and country singer?” She turned back to the wall.
“Yeah, that’s him.” A.J. leaned in and pointed to the guy playing guitar next to Grant’s father. “That’s my old man next to Booker.”
“I had no idea.” The deep green of her eyes appeared to darken in surprise.
“And why would you?” he asked. “We, you know, haven’t done too much talking.”
She frowned. “I’m thinking I had a different upbringing than you, so I just don’t like to—”
“That’s fine.” They didn’t need to get into her backstory. Not this second. “But yeah, my dad met Booker while they served in Nam together. They said music helped get them through it.” He tucked his hands in his jeans pockets, smiling at the memories his dad used to share around the campfire when A.J. was growing up. “My dad taught Booker country music, and he taught my dad blues and jazz.”
“Booker has the voice of an angel.” Ana went quiet and faced the wall.
“When they got out of the Navy, my dad talked Booker into going to the University of Alabama with him. Now, you have to remember, this wasn’t long after the Civil Rights Movement, the March of Birmingham . . . but, I tell you what,” he said while pointing to the photo of his dad and Booker, their hands clasped in the air, “they served as a symbol of unity instead of divisiveness, and I swear, through their music, they brought our little town into the light.”
“Walkins,” Ana said with a smile as she turned to face him. “The name of your town . . . it was also the name of their group when they went on tour after they graduated college, right?” She wet her lips. “My dad was a fan of them. Had their records.”
She was surprising him at every turn. “Yup.” A.J. swallowed hard, emotion literally choking him up. “Walker and Hawkins combined. The town was renamed Walkins Glen about a decade ago when Grant’s dad died.”
“Is there even a glen around here?”
He leaned in and whispered, “No, but don’t tell anyone. Kind of a local secret. It just sounded fancy, so.”
She playfully zipped her lips before parting them to ask, “But um, why’d your dad leave the tour so soon?”
He lifted his hands from his pockets and removed his hat. “My granddaddy got sick. My uncle died in Nam, and my other uncle didn’t get along so much with my dad or granddaddy, so my dad needed to come back home. Help out with the family ranch.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
A.J. shrugged. “My dad and Booker remained the best of friends, though. He kept a house near my parents’, and his wife lived there. Grant and I grew up together.”
Ana moved to the side and spotted a photo of Grant and A.J. from decades ago. “That’s you two in school? You played football?”
He grimaced. “Not very well, but we tried. Grant and I eventually gave it up and started our own band instead. We played at the local dives after a big football win. My music talent was better than my ball skills. But don’t tell anyone I admitted that.”
Her lips slightly tipped up at the edges. “Did you sing or play an instrument?” She faced him, one brow cocked. Eyes sparkling.
“Both.” He settled his hat back on his head, emotion stretching through him as he shared his life with this woman. No woman outside his forever-ago girlfriend had known this much about him. He’d never wanted to share his life with anyone. And here he was working a case, and it was as if he were sharing his soul.
“I guess you all are hardcore Alabama fans, huh?” Ana directed her focus to the rows of brown leather couches set up in front of the two big screens. The throw pillows and blankets were all from the University of Alabama. The walls were white with a thick stripe of crimson cutting through one wall opposite the pictures.
“Let’s just say we have two rules for the men in our house.” He held up two fingers for emphasis. “No dating anyone who went to the University of Tennessee or Auburn—our rivals.”
She smiled. The honest and warm one that had