Sugar (wrecked) - Mandi Beck

SUGAR

MANDI BECK

Copyright © 2017 by Mandi Beck All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Created with Vellum

To Ran, always. I love you even when you think you’re hard to love. Love, Sugar.

And to my Addy. Adriana Locke, my not-dead Opie. There’s nobody else I’d rather pour tea with.

Because you’re mine. I walk the line. —Johnny Cash

CONTENTS Prologue 1. Beau 2. Addy 3. Beau 4. Addy 5. Beau 6. Addy 7. Beau 8. Addy 9. Beau 10. Addy 11. Beau 12. Addy 13. Beau 14. Addy 15. Beau 16. Addy 17. Beau 18. Addy 19. Beau 20. Addy 21. Beau 22. Beau 23. Addy 24. Beau 25. Addy 26. Beau 27. Addy Epilogue Expose Collection ADRIANA LOCKE Lucky Number Eleven Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Buy Now From Mandi

Acknowledgments About Mandi Also By Mandi Find Mandi MANDI BECK Stoned Prologue Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

Exposé Magazine

B

REAKING NEWS!!!!

Just days after Exposé reporters bumped into a woman sneaking out of Beau McCrae’s trailer COMPLETE with naked pictures of the hot country star, we see him out and about Austin with a DIFFERENT woman, and they sure did look cozy! The couple was seen as they were walking hand in hand stealing kisses in downtown Georgetown, Texas, Beau’s hometown. Pretty interesting since Beau has not been shy in the past about his dislike of PDA’s and has only ever been seen out in public with his then girlfriend. McCrae’s dominated the headlines for the last couple months after getting into more trouble than he can shake a stick at. His high school sweetheart and long time on again off again girlfriend was killed in a tragic car crash back in January and that has sent him spiraling. The bad boy of country music is making good on his reputation and Exposé has been there to see it firsthand. From showing up to award shows drunk to getting into bar room brawls and getting unceremoniously dumped by his label, Beau McCrae has been on an epic bender. And suddenly a mystery woman shows up to tame the beast? So the question is, is he two steppin’ with both or walking the line with one special woman? We just might have to pitch a tent outside of his tour bus and see what he throws out next. Exposé can’t wait to find out! More to come on this hot story!

1

BEAU

S

itting in the corner of a little dive bar in San Antonio where I played at a few times before I was somebody, I nurse my drink. Having switched from beer to Jack and Coke an hour ago, the night will probably end in disaster. The room is dimly lit, sawdust on the makeshift dance floor where couples two-step around. Slow, slow. Quick, quick. Over and over. I’m not sure if it’s the booze or watching them that has me so mellow. Maybe a little bit of both. Maybe a lot. All I know is that nobody here has bothered me, and I can be alone with myself and my thoughts for a spell. Time to stop thinking about her. Even now, here, she haunts me. Dogs my every move. Shaking my head I take a deep pull from my drink. The server comes over again, I’m pretty sure she’s figured out who I am. My guess is confirmed when she opens her mouth. “So Mr. McCrae, you want another?” She points to my glass, empty except for a few ice cubes. “I do. But I’d also like to keep it quiet that I’m here. Can you do that for me, darlin’?” I drawl, with a slight slur. A coy smile slides over her face, “What’s in it for me, Cowboy?” I let my gaze roam over her. Long blonde hair pulled back, pretty brown eyes, and a mouth that borders on too wide. A set of tits any man would kill for and an ass to match. She looks a lot like her but not enough to keep me from taking her up on what she’s obviously offering. “When do you get off?” I ask, my eyes not on her face but on the tits I’m hoping are real. “Guess that depends on you,” she purrs. I drag my eyes up. “That right?” “Mmm hmmm.” She runs a painted fingernail along the collar of my shirt. “My shift is over in twenty minutes. I can get off then and your secret will be safe with me.” “Bring me another and let me know when you’re ready. My bus is parked a few blocks away.” At the mention of my tour bus, her eyes light up like it’s Christmas, right before she bounces away. I might regret this later, but right now all I care about is finding out if it’s Silicon Valley under that shirt or not.

fter the house band plays another set, blondie sidles over, slipping onto my lap with ease,

A

pressing her body into me. I should probably tell her she doesn’t have to work so hard at it. I’m gonna fuck her regardless. My senses are whiskey-dulled as my hands slowly move to go around her, cupping the thigh exposed by the cutoff skirt she’s wearing. Sliding up until my fingers graze the thin strip of her panties. Testing to see how far she’ll let me go in the middle of the still-crowded bar, I shift so that my hand is coasting up her inner thigh, smiling when she shifts to give me better access. My fingers rub against the already wet space between her legs, then pull her panties to the side to dip one long finger inside her. She moans against my neck, trailing wet kisses as I plunge two fingers into her pussy. My cock hardens behind the fly of my jeans. There’s no way I’m walking back to the bus like this. Pulling my fingers out of her I nudge her off my lap. She stands and adjusts her skirt, waiting as I down the last of my drink. Grabbing her hand, I pull her behind me, adjusting my cock as we make our way through the dark bar. Instead of the front door, I make a beeline for the men’s room, not even bothering to check whether anyone’s in there. Hell, I might let them watch. The second the door swings closed behind her, she’s on me. Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about apologizing for bringing her into the bathroom to fuck her. With her hands attacking my belt, I walk us backwards to the counter. My hands go to the backs of her thighs, dragging her tiny denim skirt up around her waist before lifting her onto the counter. She lets loose a giggle that gives way to a moan when I yank her thong to the side and slip two fingers all the way to my knuckles into her in one swift movement. “Will we still go back to the bus?” she pants as I work my fingers in and out of her. There’s no real finesse to my movements. I’m too drunk for that, and at this point I don’t really care if she comes, I just want her to be ready for me. The way she’s grinding against my hand though, she’s going to get herself off. Fine with me. “You want me to fuck you on my tour bus?” I ask, as she works her soft palm over the head of my cock. “Yes.” “What about my band?” I don’t give a shit about the guys. They’re used to it. We don’t live like monks on the road. There’s always some groupie on the bus. “They can watch.” She moans as I twist my hand. “Just watch, darlin’?” I tease. Maybe. Groaning into her neck when she shakes her head no, unable to speak as she comes around the now three fingers I’ve got nestled tightly in her pussy, I reach for my wallet and the rubber I keep there. Sheathing myself as she watches, she holds her panties to the side, feet planted wide on the counter. This isn’t the kind of girl you bring home to your mama, but she is the kind of girl you fuck the hell out of and then maybe watch as your friends do the same. It takes all kinds. I don’t discriminate. I love ‘em all. And then I leave ‘em. “I’m ready whenever you are.” Her voice cuts through the alcohol- and lust-fueled fog. Hooking my arms through her legs, I drag her roughly to the edge of the counter. She

grabs on to my shoulders to steady herself as I plunge into her in one swift movement. She moans out my name, her nails digging into the back of my neck for purchase as I piston into her over and over, not giving either one of us a chance to catch our breath. I’ve set a punishing pace, but when I start to slow, she bites my neck and spurs me on with her heels dug into my ass. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop,” she shouts out. Too late for all that. I’m so close to blowing my load there’s no way I’m stopping. This is exactly what I’ve been needing all night. I hear the door behind me open and glance up to see the barback in the mirror stop and gawk. I wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t, so I don’t let our audience stop me from the climax I’m so close to hitting. He shakes his head as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing and backs out of the bathroom at the same time she starts bucking against me screaming out another release at the top of her lungs. Pulling her further off the counter, I chase after my own orgasm, grunting as I empty into the condom, her lips trailing kisses and nips down my neck. Detaching myself from her grasp, I pull off the condom and toss it in the trash and shove myself back into my pants. Silently I help her down from her perch, washing my hands as she fixes herself. “You ready?” I ask in a bored tone. I really don’t want to take this chick back to the bus, but I’m afraid if I don’t she’ll make a scene, and I don’t need that shit right now. I’m not sure I’ll even be able to get it up again after all the Jack and Cokes I had tonight. “I sure am, Cowboy,” she says, leading the way out of the bathroom, not even faltering when we pass two guys about to walk in. I’m not sure if they were actually just coming to take a piss or if the kid told him that their coworker was in there getting fucked so they came to see. Either way the show is over. I nod in greeting, a smirk on my face at the crestfallen look on theirs. Yeah. They came to see.

T

he bus is a few blocks away, in the back parking lot of a church. Perfect for the sinning that is sure to happen onboard tonight. I quietly let us on. Down the narrow aisle, the bunks on each side have their curtains drawn. There’s one small room on the bus that I get since the rest of the crew rotates out. She’s pressed to the small of my back as we enter the tight space, room enough for a double bed and a small nightstand. I toe off my shoes, unbutton my jeans and drop them before reaching back and pulling my shirt over my head. Without a word, I flop onto the bed. Eyes heavy, I watch to see what she’s going to do. At this point, I’m so tired I’m not sure she’s gonna get the ride she’s hoping for. I’m willing to let her try though. Stacking my hands behind my head, I watch as she strips out of her postage stamp-sized skirt and flimsy panties. The shirt barely covering her tits comes next, followed by her bra. I’m a little disappointed to find out that they’re not real. I mean, I’m a guy, so the disappointment doesn’t last long, but still. She eyes me coyly as she crawls onto the bed, settling herself on her knees between my legs. She rubs her hands up and down over her tits, eyes shining brightly in the darkened room as she eyes my cock. I can’t tell if she’s this excited and eager because she likes to fuck or if it’s the fact that she’s fucking country music’s baddest bad boy. “Is your band out there?” she asks as she leans over me, her nipples grazing my thighs as she swipes her tongue over the head of my dick, letting out a little happy sound of

pleasure as she takes me further into her mouth. And further. And further. I lift my hips nudging even further still, pleased and a little bit impressed when she takes it. My voice is distracted with what she’s doing with her mouth when I answer, “Yeah. They’re all out there asleep.” Not wanting to talk anymore, I place a hand to the back of her head and press her back down until I can feel her gag reflex tighten around me. She keeps that shit up, she might get the ride she was looking for. She moves over me in a practiced rhythm. The up and down and hot suction of her mouth on my shaft starts to lull me into an alcohol- and sex-induced coma. I can feel my eyelids grow heavier. I tap her cheek to get her attention so I can tell her that her efforts aren’t working, but she interprets it the wrong way and goes to working harder. Fuck it. Let her do her thing. Maybe I’ll surprise us both.

T

he shrill ring of my cell cuts through my pounding head. Cracking my eyes I’m blinded by the sun streaming through the bus windows, the soaring cross atop the church looking over me, judging. The phone finally stops, just to start again. Rolling onto my back, I overshoot and fall unceremoniously onto the floor, smacking my head on the wall in the tight space when I do. “God damn mother fucker!” Rubbing at the tender spot, I snatch my phone out of the pocket of my jeans lying on the floor beside me, swiping it when I see that it’s my manager. “Jim? What the fuck? What time is it?” I snarl at him. Truth be told, I have no clue how early or late it is. For all I know it’s noon. But fuck. My head is killing me for real now because of this persistent prick. “Beau, could you please stop sleeping with waitresses?” “What’s wrong with waitresses? And I think they like to be called ‘servers’ now.” “Well, smart ass, there’s nothing wrong with servers except that they usually don’t have a ton of money in the bank so when they’re approached by rag mags as they come out of your tour bus, they tend to talk. Sometimes even offer up naked pictures of a passed out country star for a few bucks. You see where I’m going with this, bud?” I curse under my breath. “Please don’t tell me I had whiskey dick. I mean, was this a flaccid picture? I’ve been told I’m a show-er and a grow-er, but whiskey dick will fuck you up.” “Damn it, Beau. Can you be serious? I need to do damage control. Give me her number. I want to see if I can get her to retract her story. It’s probably gonna cost you, but we can’t have any more of this bad press.” I can hear the rattle of the antacids I know he’s pouring into his mouth. “I didn’t ask for her number, Jimmy. Not exactly what I wanted from her.” “Well, what’s her name? I’ll see if I can look her up.” I run a hand over my stubbled jaw knowing how much he’s gonna love this. “Didn’t ask for that either.”

“For the love of—” More rattling and loud crunching chews. “Beau. After yesterday with the label dropping you, we can’t have this. I need to do as much course correction as possible and find someone to pick up the rest of your contract and hopefully extend it. You’re in a world of shit here, buddy. I need you to keep it in your pants for five damn minutes.” His voice softens, loses some of that preaching tone. “I know you’re grieving, but please, grieve some other way.” He doesn’t know shit. “I hear you, Jimmy,” I say just to appease him. I’m tired of walking their line. They want me to be the “bad boy of country music” yet they want me to do it their way. I’m nobody’s puppet. “I need you in my office in two hours.” He doesn’t ask. Jimmy is tough as tacks and that’s why he’s my agent. “See ya then.” I disconnect and moan as I pick myself up off the floor. Glancing around the small space, I see that the sheets are half on, the lamp shade is knocked off, and a pair of women’s panties are on the pillow with a note.

The panties are in case you need a reminder of last night. My phone number is in case you want a repeat. Maybe we can wake the band next time. 210-555-2341 Xoxo

S

Stacie

o she does have a name. Jimmy will be thrilled. I’m not even sorry I don’t remember much after leaving the bar last night. I must have been really fucked up if I had been willing to share her with the guys. Not that we haven’t before, but it’s not usually something I go suggesting when I’ve just met a chick. Tossing the thong in the trash, I save the note to give to Jimmy, he may need a little damage control help, and go to wake the crew so we can head home.

2

ADDY

T

he intercom on my desk startles me when it comes to life. “Addy there’s a Jim Neumann on the line for you. Should I put him through?”

“Yup. Go ahead, Nelle.” Oh this oughta be good. I haven’t talked to him in a good long while. The line blinks and I pick it up. Before I can say hello, my old friend’s voice booms over the line. “Miss Addy Mae Masterson, how in the heck are ya, darlin‘?” I can’t help but laugh—he’s laying it on thick. “Well if it isn’t Jimmy Don Neumann. Calling me from his fancy-pants office in San Antonio,” I tease. “It’s Jim now. Gotta keep these boys on their toes here and Jimmy Don is a nice guy name.” “Whatever you say, Jimmy Don,” I chuckle. “You’re still a pain in the ass I see.” “Did you ever doubt it?” Jimmy Don lets slip his own laugh. “Not for a second.” “I know you didn’t call just for me to give you hell, now did you?” “No, I didn’t.” He sighs deeply, and I can hear him shuffling papers on the other end of the line. “I need a favor. Can I take you to lunch?” I pull up my calendar. “For sure. When will you be in town?” “ I’m in town now, permanently actually.” “Oh! Everything all right with your granny?” Miss Haddie hasn’t been feeling well according to my mama. I hope that’s not what has him coming back to town. “No. No. Everything’s okay with Granny. She’s doing much better than she was. Thank you for asking.” “I’m so glad to hear that. I’ll have to get down to see her soon. So what brings you to town then?” “Today? You actually.” “Me?” More curious than ever, I lean back in the white leather chair and wait him out. “Can you do lunch today? I’ve called ahead to your favorite place to see if they can

hold a table for us.” “Moonshine?” “Yes, ma’am,” he drawls heavily. “‘Mighty sure of yourself, Jimmy Don,” I tease, knowing I’ll be clearing my afternoon. Whatever it is must be important. “More like desperate,” he says, confirming my suspicion. “What time?” I look at the watch on my wrist. “I can probably make it there around one.” “That’s perfect. I appreciate it, Addy. I know you’re a busy gal.” I laugh at his “gal.” “That I am. Not too busy for an old friend though. See you in a while.” “Bye, darlin’.” Disconnecting the call, I buzz Nelle. “What can I do you for, Miss Addy?” My secretary is about sixty-five with unusually blue hair and old-fashioned rimmed glasses complete with a little string for them to dangle around her neck from and all, and yes, she insists on calling me “Miss Addy.” “Can you clear my afternoon? I’m going to be out of the office, not sure when I’ll be back.” “Sure thing, honey. You didn’t have much on there since you were supposed to meet with Miss Willow,” she answers. I can hear her pecking away on her keyboard as she speaks. “Oh shi-oot.” Cussing in front of Nelle is like cussing in front of my Memaw. It just doesn’t happen. “I forgot. I better call her. You can handle the rest for me?” “Of course, already done.” “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Nelle.” “Let’s not find out,” she chortles. Shaking my head, I disconnect and immediately dial Willow. She picks up on the fourth ring sounding out of breath. “Addy? Hey. I’m here,” she huffs. “What in the world are you doing that has you so out of breath?” I ask. Then think better of it. “On second thought, I don’t think I want to know.” My friend’s soft laugh floats over the line. “No, you probably don’t.” “Hi Addy,” her man calls out. “Hi Stone,” I reply. “Anyway, I’ll let you get to whatever it is you were doing, I just wanted to call and tell you I need to reschedule lunch. I’ve had something come up.”

“That’s fine. Everything okay?” “Absolutely. Just got a call from Jimmy Don Neumann. You remember him, of course. He’s in town and asked to see me. Practically begged.” “Huh. Interesting. Do you know what he wants?” “Not a clue,” I admit. “Call me when you guys are through. I’m super curious now.” “I will. Don’t you worry about that,” I laugh. Glad to have her home even for this little while. Ever since she moved to Toronto, I’ve been a little lost without my friend. It’s a good thing Stone’s sister, Scarlet, decided to stay here. After she moved into their house, she and I have become really great friends. But nobody can ever replace Willow. We’ve been friends for so long, but it’s also nice to have someone else around who knows the business we’re in and doesn’t get silly over the famous musicians I associate with on a daily basis. For Scar, being the sister to one of the biggest rock stars in the world goes a long way in helping with that, I reckon. A giggle and a muffled receiver remind me of what I probably interrupted. “Okay, you two. I’m hanging up. I’ll talk to you soon!” I end the call not waiting for a reply. Those two are still like newlyweds and can never keep their hands off each other. I don’t need to hear any of that. Stone is like a brother to me, Willow my best friend. They can keep that business all to themselves. Turning back to my computer, I finish up some things that won’t wait until after lunch. Starting our own label was the best decision we ever made, well, for me at least, since I was promoted from assistant to partner. Although, I still do a bunch of work for Judge as his assistant since he fires his about every other week. I think he’s on number six now. Judge is not the easiest guy to work for, and I’m clearly harder to replace than I thought. I’ve been his assistant ever since the guys signed with Fall Out Records a few years ago. Wrecked hit big and pushed the limits and then outgrew the label that was constantly trying to micromanage and whitewash them, so they decided to go out on their own. Judge, Lawson, Stone, and Arrow have been best friends since childhood, Willow and I coming into the fold later and tagging along for their wild ride. So now we’re all a part of Hard Candy and we’ve already signed six artists in a year’s time. My job description may have changed drastically, but I’m okay with that. I’m looking forward to the future for the first time in what seems like forever. Glancing at my watch one last time I get serious about the sheets in front of me.

P

arking half a block away, I lock up the Jeep and walk the short distance to the wraparound porch of the restaurant. I’m not surprised he remembered it was my favorite. Every time Jimmy Don is in town, I drag him here. Walking in I’m greeted by the hostess. “Well, hey there, Addy!” “Hi Bailey.” I should be ashamed that I’m on a first-name basis with the staff. I’m not.

But I should be. But I’m not. “Just you today?” “No ,I’m meeting someone. He said he called ahead. He may not be here yet.” “He’s here. Let me take you over. Kyle sat him earlier. Left me a note. I wish he woulda said he was meeting you. I woulda put y’all at your favorite table.” “It’s okay. I’ll survive sitting somewhere else,” I joke. We round the corner into the room. “Out on the patio,” she indicates, leading the way out to the covered area. “Perfect.” I love sitting outside here. There’s more privacy somehow. Following her back to the corner, I spot Jimmy Don. He stands as we approach and so does the man sitting with him. My steps falter a bit as recognition hits me. Beau McCrae. Country’s hottest bad boy. He’s like the Stone of country. Minus the drugs. At least I think minus the drugs. And he is fine. Home-grown, country boy, F. I. N. E. Schooling my features, I pretend like I couldn’t care less that he’s there. And really I couldn’t. I’m used to having lunch with the biggest names in music. Beau McCrae is nothing special, I lie to myself. Did I mention the boy is fine? “Addy. Thanks so much for meeting us.” My old friend greets me, a contrite look on his face as he pulls me in for a hug. “No problem.” I smile, narrowing my eyes at him but not calling him out on the fact that he never mentioned he was bringing Beau. I can’t even begin to guess what the hell he’s up to. “This is Beau. I don’t know if you’ve met yet,” Jimmy Don says as he pulls my chair out for me to sit. “We haven’t.” Still standing I tilt my head in Beau’s direction, watching as his bored gaze travels down the front of me. Over my white tank top, black boyfriend jacket, frayed jeans, and Chucks. I’m suddenly self-conscious of the casual outfit I wore today thinking I was going to be meeting an old friend and not the hottest thing to happen to country music since Luke Bryan. He stands beside the table, the black t-shirt he’s wearing stretched taut over his chest and his arms. I’m sure the thing is going to split at the seams as it struggles to wrap itself around his biceps. Do they not make shirts in his size? Who am I kidding? I’m glad they don’t. I wait for him to finish his perusal. When he lands on my chest, the bane of my existence since the fifth grade, the year the other firls started wearing bras and me, well I didn’t, I clear my throat. He lingers. My nipples pebble like the traitorous little bastards that they are. I refuse to cross my arms to cover them no matter how badly I want to. Another throat clearing, this time from Jimmy Don, and Beau finally raises his gaze to mine. The smirk slashing across his mouth is sexy and infuriating. Ignoring it and the reaction my body is having to him and that smirk, I offer my hand. “Addy Masterson.” He hesitates just a moment before taking mine in a loose hold. Even the brief contact gives me a little zing. Though it seems I’m the only one experiencing it. It’s pretty clear he doesn’t want to be here. Or maybe he doesn’t want me here. Either way, he’s not thrilled. Dropping his hand and his half-assed attempt at

pleasantries, I sit, allowing Jimmy Don to put those manners his mama taught him to work, and push in my chair. The second we sit the server hurries over. I’m pleased to see it’s one of my favorites. “Miss Addy.” He beams, handing me a menu and setting down a glass of ice water. “You gonna have your usual to drink?” Jimmy Don scoffs, “You have a usual?” I manage a sheepish shrug. “I’m working a lot more these days. I find myself here for more meals than I’d like to admit.” I glance at what the guys are drinking—Beau has a beer in front of him, Jimmy Don a bourbon. Obviously they’re imbibing, I might as well. Hell, I might need one with whatever favor he’s brought me here to ask. “Yup, I reckon I’ll take my usual. Gotta catch up with these two.” I smile at him as he leaves to get my drink. “What’s your usual, a white wine spritzer?” Beau drawls out mockingly, tipping his beer to his lips. It’s gonna be like that, is it? Not bothering to answer him I turn to Jimmy Don, catching him making pleading eyes at Beau. When he realizes I’m watching him, he smiles a bit sheepishly. “It’s been a little while. How have you been?” “I’ve been good. Busy with the label.” Beau puffs out a breath through his nose. What is this man’s problem? Why are we here if he so obviously doesn’t want to be? Why the hell am I here? My drink is placed in front of me, the shiny copper mug glinting in the sun. “Are y’all ready to order?” Before anyone speaks, I hold a finger up, “Give us just a minute please.” I wait ’til he walks away and then I let the questions fly. “What’s going on, Jimmy Don? This is not just a couple friends having lunch, clearly, since your boy here is bound and determined to be a jackass. So why don’t you cut the bullshit and tell me what’s really going on?” I’ve never been one to beat around the bush, I won’t start now. No matter how hot Beau McCrae is. Jimmy Don lets out a deep resigned sigh. “I apologize for Beau—” “Don’t apologize for me. I can speak for myself.” When he doesn’t say anything more, it takes everything in me to resist from slapping him upside his fool head. “As I was saying, I apologize for Beau. It’s been a rough few days. A rough few months, if I’m honest.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a roll of antacids, popping three in his mouth and chewing. I’ve never seen my friend so stressed out. “It’s been a rough few weeks for all of us, and then last night Beau was officially released from the label, We had been told a few days ago but they made it public knowledge last night. Or rather early this morning.” Jimmy Don says in a hushed tone. He rambles on, talking about contracts and tour dates, but I’m barely listening. Out of the corner of my eye I see Beau reach for my drink and bring it to his mouth for

a sip. Is he kidding me right now? I turn my head to look at him, and he meets my gaze head on over the rim of my glass. He doesn’t shy away from my narrow-eyed glare. His go wide with surprise when he gets a taste of what’s in the copper mug. He nods his head in approval and places it back on the table like he didn’t just help himself to my drink. I just shake my head in disbelief and turn my attention back to Jimmy Don who is still talking. Poor thing is rattled. I tune in to what he’s saying a little too late. He’s finished and looking at me expectantly Shit. “What are you asking me, Jimmy Don?” I don’t think he actually got to that part in his rambling. At least I hope not. “I’m hoping that you can pick up the time left on his contract which would include his next album and sign him under Hard Candy.” Did I just hear him right? “You want me to sign him?” I jerk my thumb in Beau’s direction, grateful we didn’t order our food yet. He might have helped himself to my plate if we had. “I do.” He rushes to add, “I need your help, Addy. I think you guys would be really good for him, and he’s rising faster than anyone expected.” That’s true, which makes no sense why his label would drop him and risk a lawsuit for breach of contract and all that other lawyer stuff I won’t pretend to understand. Turning to a bored, and upon closer inspection, hung over Beau, I ask pointedly, “What did you do? And don’t tell me nothing. There’s no way that a label is going to drop an artist lighting the industry on fire. So what happened?” Jimmy Don clears his throat and starts to speak when I interrupt, my eyes still locked on Beau. “I’m not asking you, I’m asking him. It’s your job to sugarcoat his transgressions. I don’t want sugarcoating.” Beau shrugs, “Little of this, little of that.” Takes him a second to realize that’s not going to fly. He huffs out a breath, “They consider me too big a risk.” “Why?” Usually I’m on top of what’s happening on the music scene, but the last couple weeks have been spent focusing on the Wrecked tour, so I’m a little out of the loop. Probably wouldn’t take me but a minute to find out everything I need to know about one Beau McCrae. “Because they can’t control me. I don’t fit into their perfect little box they’ve carved out for me.” It’s the first time I’ve heard any emotion in his voice. His drawl becoming more pronounced in his aggravation. “Do you need to be controlled?” I ask without thinking about how that sounds. His smile is as slow and smooth as his voice. “You offerin’?” “Not a chance.” Turning back to Jimmy Don, who literally looks like he’s on the verge of a breakdown and so very unlike my usually in-control friend, “Is this the reason you’re coming back to town?” “Yes and no. I had planned on moving to the satellite office here anyhow with Austin becoming like a little Nashville. That Beau is here just makes things easier.” Makes sense. “You know that I can’t make any decisions without first talking things

over with the rest of the team. I’m not even sure they’re going to want to take him on since clearly he’s a liability,” I hedge. Though I’m not sure how true that is. Beau is talented as all get out. Stone and Judge will care about that, and since they’re the ones who make most of the decisions, I won’t be surprised if they jump at the chance to sign Beau. “I know you do. I just wanted to reach out to you. As a businessman and as one of your oldest friends.” He’s laying it on thick again. “I’m gonna need you to fax me over his current contract so that we can have our lawyer look it over.” He reaches into the briefcase I didn’t see tucked under the table and pulls out a manila envelope. “It’s all in there. Beau’s contract, demo of the album he’s working on now, everything.” “You came prepared, Jimmy Don,” I laugh. “He’s the best,” Beau pipes in admiringly. At least he recognizes that. Jimmy Don is not only an amazing agent but also a great guy. Beau is lucky to have him in his corner. I trust his judgment and that’s the only reason I’m even considering taking Beau on. “I’m making no promises, but I’ll call a meeting with everyone today and look over everything and see if it makes sense for us.” I look at Beau pointedly. “You need to keep your behind outta trouble though. Think you can manage that?” Legends ball cap pulled low, I can’t see his eyes, but I see the mischief in his grin. “We’ll see. I’m just so damn good at it,” he says, tipping his beer back. I have a feeling that he and that smile are going to be the death of me in more ways than one.

3

BEAU

A

fter having lunch with Jimmy and his hot, ball-busting friend, Addy Mae Masterson, I’m beat. I know that Jimmy doesn’t think that all of this shit with the label affects me, but it does. I just don’t stress about it like he does. Do I want to end up back in Georgetown working on the ranch next to my brother and dad? Hell no. I always knew that wasn’t gonna be my calling. I didn’t know music was going to be what took me away from that life—we all just assumed it would be football. Ever since I could hold a ball at the age of two, that’s what I did. Constantly. Then came the knee injury. Then the shoulder. Then bye bye full-ride scholarship. You learn fast what you’re good at and what you’re not when one of the only things you ever gave a shit about is taken from you. As I is I’m lucky. Turns out I’m good as hell at music. Now I’m on the verge of losing that too. Pulling up to the ranch, I put the truck in park. I have a house on the property, but if I drive past the main house without first stopping in, my mama will take a switch to my ass no matter how old I am. Plus I need the distraction so I don’t just sit and dwell on the fact that my music career might very well be over. I can’t go there right now. I have to hope that Jimmy is as good as he thinks he is, and that Addy is as enamored with him as she appeared. I need a miracle right now, and she’s it. I’m not used to putting all my faith into one person, but I guess if I’m looking for a miracle, I could’ve done worse for myself. Miss Addy Mae and her sweet as hell rack are a damn sight nicer to look at than Glenn and the rest of the guys I was used to dealing with at my old label. I cut the engine and give the dust a second to settle before getting out and climbing the porch steps to the back. The screen door creaks and claps shut behind me as I enter the mudroom that leads to the kitchen. “Sealy is that you, baby?” my mama calls. “No, ma’am, it’s your other son. Your favorite.” The house smells like it always does, of something baking or simmering away on the stove. Walking through the doorway, I see her wiping her hands on the apron she has tied around her waist. Her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail makes her look younger than her fifty-eight years. Not that my mama looks her age. “Oh my stars, my baby is home.” It’s been a couple months since I’ve been home. I always call but it’s not the same. “Come give me some sugar, Beau. Why didn’t you call first? I would have made your favorite supper had I known.” I step into her outstretched arms, bending to accommodate her much smaller frame. My brother and I are both well

over six feet like our father. We’ve towered over mama since we were young kids. “Wanted to surprise you is all,” I lie. If I tell her why I’m really home, she’ll be dragging my ass right to church and have the whole damn town praying for me. “Come in here and sit down. You hungry? Your brother and daddy will be in soon. They just got back from the auction a little while ago. Got two new bulls for stud and a beautiful paint mare to breed. Your brother sent pictures of the horse, pretty little thing.” My mom is a rancher’s wife through and through. She knows the ins and outs of the business and the unforgiving hours and hard work it takes to run a ranch this size. I tried to get my dad to retire and sell off some of the cattle when I signed my first record deal and my album went platinum, but he wouldn’t have any of it. “McCraes have ranched on this land for generations, boy, and we’ll continue to ranch on this land for generations to come.” Stubborn bastard. My mama puts a plate down in front of me, and I can’t help but smile. I don’t dare tell her that I’ve just eaten. “You want sweet tea?” she asks even as she’s pulling it from the fridge. “Yes, ma’am,” I answer. No use in saying no. Setting the tea down, she takes the seat next to me, covering my hand with hers. “How you doin’, baby? I know it’s been hard for you since Jenny passed. Bless her soul. You must miss her something fierce. God knows I do.” I glance up to see the tears in her eyes. My mama loved Jenny. She was the daughter she never had. Her death has been hardest on my mama, I think. Every breakup we’d ever had since freshman year of high school, my mama took her side. Scolding me for breaking Jenny’s heart and not seeing a good thing when it was standing in front of me. Sometimes I think Jenny and I were together for as long as we were because of my mama. Because who in the world wanted to hurt Jolynn McCrae? Sure as hell wasn’t me. “I’m good, mama. I do miss her, but I’ve been keeping busy.” It’s true. Jenny and I had a ton of history and her death hit me hard. Clearly, since I’ve decided to try to tank my career in her honor. Wanting to talk about anything other than this and the state of my career, I’m relieved when my dad and little brother walk in. “Thought that was your truck in the drive,” Sealy says coming through the door, not bothering to wash any of the dirt off before pulling me into a bear hug. Thumping him on the back, I laugh. “Boy, you smell like shit.” My mama gasps, “Beauregard Everett McCrae, you watch your mouth in my house. And Sealy, you take your filthy behind to the mudroom and get cleaned up before you traipse through my kitchen,” she scolds as my brother and I answer, “Yes, ma’am,” in unison. Sealy goes back into the mudroom just as my dad is walking out beaming. “It sure is good to see you home, son. We’ve been missin’ you around here.” He gives me a hug much like Sealy’s, clapping me on the back before going over to my mama and welcoming her with a kiss. “You didn’t tell me he was comin’ home, Jo.”

“I didn’t know. He just showed up.” She smiles over at me. “I didn’t know myself, honestly. But I’ll be home for a spell. You’ll be sick of me before you know it,” I joke. My dad’s face is pinched in concern. “Everything okay?” I should have been more careful with my words. It’s gonna be hard keeping anything from them as soon as the tabloids get wind of the label letting me go. I might as well be the one to tell them. Sealy comes in and pours a glass of tea for him and my dad, leaning against the kitchen counter and waiting for me to answer my father. “Everything is fine.” Like a band-aid. Do it quick. “I’m not with my label anymore, and Jimmy and I are shopping new options for this next album.” My brother lowers his glass, my parents look confused. My dad shakes his head and asks, “What does that mean, Beau?” I made it sound like it was my idea to make the blow easier, but I can see that I’m going to have to give them more. “It means that I’m not with Glenn Co. Records anymore and that I’m looking for a new label to produce and release the next album.” I shrug like it’s no big deal when I know it is. It’s a big fucking deal. “You got fired?” Sealy blurts. I’m gonna kill him. Only my baby brother would call me out and put me on the spot. Now the question is do I lie to my parents or do I just admit that I got fired. Fuck. “Well, I guess you could say that. I wish you hadn’t, but I should’ve known you would,” I mutter glaring daggers at him. “Fired? Whatever in the world for? Can they do that?” My mother rubs her hands over her apron, wringing the ends anxiously. “Mama, honestly. It’s not a big deal. Jimmy and I have been talking about leaving for a while now. I’ve outgrown them.” That’s partly true. I have outgrown them, but Jimmy and I had hoped to stay there at least until this next album released. “Hell, mama, he’s made enough money that he never has to sing another song as long as he lives and he’d still be fine.” My brother tries to smooth over his fuck-up. I shoot him an appreciative look. I’m so over talking about all of this. My dad nods. “Jimmy is a smart man. I’ve always liked him. If he thinks this is a good move then it must be. I’m just happy to have you home for a while. We can use some help with the new mare.” He winks at me knowing how much I hate ranch work. “Yeah, right, like, City over there is gonna get up with the roosters and get his hands dirty.” My brother laughs, knowing damn well I’ve worked the ranch since I could walk and help out whenever I come home because I hate to see him and my dad busting their asses. My mother turns to the stove and I flip him off. He blows me a kiss like the bratty little brother he is. Despite Sealy throwing my ass under the bus, it’s good be home.

y house needs aired out. I usually call a couple days ahead of me getting here and mama

M

opens the house up for me and stocks the fridge. Since this isn’t a planned visit, the house is musty and the fridge empty. Well, not completely. Mama sent me home with a six pack of my dad’s beer and enough food to get me through the next couple days. Walking from room to room, I open windows and turn on fans, getting the fresh air swirling. The scents of grass and hay and the fresh water of the creek right behind my house filter through the windows. I had the house built after my dad refused to sell off the land and retire. I picked my favorite spot on our property. A couple acres that abut the fields of wildflowers and the creek. It’s quiet out here. Room for me to think away from the glitz and glamour that comes with being famous. I never thought I would miss the quiet of the ranch until I was surrounded by the noise of show biz. Not that I don’t love it. I thrive on it. Just miss this every once in a while too. Grabbing a beer out of the fridge, I go to the back porch and sit in the rocker looking out over the land. The trickle of the water over rocks, birds chirping from the trees, the cattle in the distance. All the sounds of home. My phone ringing breaks through the shortlived peace. Seeing that it’s an Austin number that I don’t recognize, I consider letting it go to voicemail but something tells me to answer. “Hello?” “Beau, it’s Addy Masterson. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.” Her drawl is slow and sexy. Even more so over the phone than in person. Or maybe I was filled with too much animosity and the remnants of too much bourbon to notice earlier. Probably not a good idea to notice now either. “No, ma’am. Just over here keeping my behind out of trouble,” I answer with her warning from lunch. “I’ll pretend I’m not surprised by that. I half-expected you to be sneaking women onto your bus in a church parking lot.” So she’s been doing her research. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. I’m almost certain it’s not a good thing. “Lots you can do on your knees other than pray. I’m sure the good Lord can appreciate that.” I can’t help but goad her. “I’ll be sure to tell my daddy the preacher that the next time I see him.” She’s not amused. “Let me know how that works out for you.” With the beer bottle in hand I kick back in the rocker and prop my boots on the rail. “I’m sure you didn’t call me to talk about all the types of prayin’ I’ve been doin’.” “Not entirely, no. I do want to ask you to refrain from any more of that kind of ‘prayin’ until we can get this contract business figured out.” “But I—” “So good at it. Yeah I remember you making mention of that at lunch.” She beats me to the punch. “I’m actually calling about the demo that Jimmy Don put in the envelope for

me.” I can’t help but chuckle at her calling him Jimmy Don. Jimmy Don is a big bear of a man’s name. Jimmy is not that. He’s tall and thin with perfectly combed hair the color of corn. He looks more like a yuppie model than a cutthroat talent agent. It’s off-puttin’ if I’m being honest. First time I met him, I thought it was a joke. “Yeah, what about it?” “Are these all originals you wrote on your own?” “Yup. All but one. One is a song my brother and I worked on together.” Sealy has more musicality than even he knew. Must run in the family. “They’re really good. Your sound is unique, and this new album is some of your best stuff.” “So you’re a fan?” I tease. “Wish I’d have known. I woulda signed somethin’ for ya at lunch.” “I’ll survive.” She’s a pistol. Quick on her feet and completely unimpressed with my status. It’s been a while since I’ve had such little reaction from a woman. Even Jenny that I’d known all my life would get a star-struck gleam to her eye every so often. I would do my best to remind her that I was still just me, but it was no use. “Anyways, like I was saying. I really like it. Which would you choose for your first single? I talked to Jimmy Don, and he wasn’t sure so he gave me your number to ask.” “Honestly, I hadn’t really thought about it. Glenn Co. never let me choose.” Just another way for them to keep me under their thumb. I hated it. “Well, if you had to choose?” Addy prompts. “You first. Which would you choose?” I really am curious. I’m not even sure why. “If it were up to me, I would go with ‘Can’t Love You.’ It’s raw and emotional and different from your other stuff. I think it shows your versatility.” I can tell that she’s put a lot of thought into it. She didn’t just pick a song to pick a song. That she picked one that I never intended to have see the light of day isn’t lost on me. “Is that the one you would too?” I clear my throat suddenly anxious to get off the phone. “I would pick any one but that one.” “Can I ask why?” she asks, confused and a little pissy, if I’m picking up on the tone in her voice correctly. “Nope. Is that all? I was gonna go into town for a spell.” “Is that a good idea?” “I need a label not another mama. Unless you’re wantin’ somethin’ a little more? Maybe you want me to teach you all those other things you can do on your knees?” My drawl is exaggerated, my tone suggestive. I know just from the brief time I’ve spent with her she won’t put up with my shit. “Goodbye, Beau. Stay out of trouble or I might just have Jimmy Don call your mama since you already have one and don’t need another.” Addy disconnects before I can

respond. Probably best since she holds the fate of my career in her hands, and I can’t seem to stop myself from pissing her off.

4

ADDY

W

illow, Stone, and Judge are on their way into the office to talk about this Beau thing. I’ve pulled up every little indiscretion of his in the last year. He’s always been a bit of a wild child, but things got progressively worse when his girlfriend was killed in a car wreck a few months ago. Not that it makes it okay, but it explains a lot. I didn’t go into a ton of detail on the phone with Judge earlier, just a quick rundown. I’m grateful that they’re all in town right now. This would have been a pain in the ass to put together so quickly had they not been. Judge has been spending more and more time in Toronto with Stone and Wills. Lawson and Arrow too. In fact, that’s where those two are right now scouting a new band. I’m the only one who hasn’t caved yet. I’m a Southern girl through and through. I’d shrivel up and die if I had to brave snow and the cold. No thank you. I’ll just hold down the fort here. They like it because it’s low key. People and the paparazzi don’t dog them there like they do here. It’s refreshing for them. I don’t have that problem so I’m perfectly fine right here in good ol’ Austin. Nelle comes into the conference room carrying a tray of sweets, Stone right behind her reaching over her shoulder trying to snag a little cake. Nelle giggles like a preteen and let’s him take what he wants, blushing beet red when he busses her cheek with a noisy kiss. Willow and Judge laugh and shake their heads at him, Willow breaking off to give me a hug. “Hey you,” she greets, giving me a good squeeze. “Hey yourself. Why do you smell like a picnic?” I ask confused, giving Judge a quick hug and then Stone. “You too. The both of you smell like watermelon and sweat.” I crinkle my nose. Judge groans and Stone winks at a sheepishly grinning Willow. “Think about what you just said, Addy,” Judge says taking his seat. Then it hits me. Stone has a thing for watermelon lollipops. I don’t even want to know what they’ve been doing with them or each other. “Ewww. You two need a hobby.” “Fucking is a hobby as long as you’re doing it right.” Stone laughs at my disgusted look. “Just sit down, pervert.” I can’t help but laugh along. He’s ridiculous. I don’t know how Willow puts up with him. She does though, and it’s so great to see them and their daughter so happy together after being unhappy and apart for so long.

Once they all sit down and Nelle leaves to man the phones, I pass out the printouts I did with Beaus numbers, charts, album sales, concert tickets, and all the other stuff that makes him good on paper. Then I pass out the rag mag articles. Exposé seems to really love him. “So that’s Beau McCrae on paper. He’s killing the charts, album sales and downloads are through the roof, every show is a sellout. The guy’s on fire.” They nod in agreement as they scan the pages before them. “So what’s the problem? How does a guy on top get let go from his label?” Judge asks pointedly. I glance over at Stone before saying anything. He’s watching me, waiting. As a recovering addict and a man who doesn’t drink anything stronger than sweet tea anymore, I don’t want to upset him. It wasn’t too long ago that he lost everything because of his addiction. I see a lot of Stone in Beau in a way. Both stupidly talented, hot headed, stubborn, and neither of them know when enough is enough. Knowing that I have to be completely honest with them, I shake off my trepidation. “He’s been drinking too much. Partying too hard. Sleeping with the wrong women. He’s been on a downward spiral since his high school sweetheart died, but even before that, he was a little bit of a loose cannon.” “Wow, that’s gotta be tough.” Willow murmurs sincerely. “Is he doing drugs?” Stone cuts to the chase. “Because I gotta tell ya, if anything were to happen to Wills, I’d lose my fucking shit too. Downward spiral would be an understatement, so if this guy’s just drinking a little more than normal, I’d say he’s doing all right.” Judge doesn’t look convinced. “No drugs that I’m aware of. He really doesn’t seem the type though. No offense, Stone,” I rush. Continuing when he shakes his head at me like I’m silly, “I only meant that he’s a good ol’ boy. Comes from a family of ranchers, small town football star turned country music’s next big thing. I honestly don’t think he’s abusing anything more than whiskey and beer.” I take a sip of water. “However he did show up drunk as hell to the last award show. I watched the YouTube video of it. It wasn’t pretty. I’m guessing that was what pushed the label over the edge, and then the other night the paps caught some waitress sneaking out of his trailer in the middle of the night who was more than happy to offer up naked pictures of him and whatnot. The label publically canned him as soon as that story hit Exposé and TMZ. Beau and Jimmy Don had already been told he was being released they just hadn’t gone public with it yet. I think they were waiting for the right moment to make it more his fault and he gave them the perfect opportunity.” Willow speaks up. “So he’s obviously gonna need a keeper. But is he worth it? I don’t listen to a whole lot of country, but I have heard and loved his whole unplugged vibe, and obviously the charts don’t lie. Have you heard his new stuff yet?” I nod enthusiastically. “Yes! Jimmy Don gave me the demo for the next album that we would be releasing under our name since Glenn Co. Records is dissolving their contract completely. I’m not sure how that even works honestly, but I sent it over to Bear in

Toronto. I’m just waiting for him to clear the legal side of things and get back to me.” I shift and pull my laptop in front of me. “Here’s the new album, there’s nine tracks here, Jimmy Don said they’re aiming for thirteen but the label was really involved and kept shooting them down so Beau may even have the songs already.” Pulling up the music on my laptop, I hit shuffle. “Jimmy Don said that they were helicoptering and it was driving Beau nuts. He felt like they were trying to make him fit into some box. Beau’s said basically the same thing.” I shrug and stop talking so they can listen to the music. Judge hasn’t said much of anything, but that doesn’t surprise me. He’s the quiet one. The thinker. He’s probably running numbers in his head right now, going over the pros and cons of taking on someone like Beau. He could be amazing for our label. He might also be a nightmare and give us a shitty name out of the gate. But in the year that we’ve branched out, we’ve signed some big, already established artists, and everyone else we’ve added to the family is going to be household names before long. Stone and Willow along with the rest of our talent-focused crew have an incredible ear and are able to find the most amazing talent in the least likely of places. Judge and I are here to hold up the business end of the label which suits us just fine. I look over at Willow and Stone—they both have their eyes closed while they listen. I don’t pretend to know what they feel when they hear music. I hear the catchy tune or the powerful words. They feel it all on a level I’m not capable of. It’s a gift. “This one. This is the one we need to release as the first single,” Willow cuts in. Stone nods his head in agreement. I do a little happy dance in my chair because it’s the same one I had suggested. I don’t dare tell them that he shot me down. I noticed a shift in his attitude as soon as I mentioned it. “All of these are originals. He said there’s only one on the album that his brother worked on with him.” “I can tell,” Stone says leaning back in his chair. I turn down the music and look over at Judge who looks over at Stone. I almost feel as if we’re all looking at him to say that we should do this. Like because of his checkered past, he should be the one to give us the go ahead on Beau. I’m not even sure why, just that I think it should be his call, and Judge obviously feels the same way. “I want to meet him before I make a decision. From where I sit right now, I say we would be stupid not to sign him. But I need to sit down with him before I can commit.” We all nod. “Fair enough. I’ll call Jimmy Don and see when I can get them here. When do you guys go back to Toronto?” Stone looks over at Willow who shrugs. “We’re not on any schedule. School is out for the summer, so we have some time.” “Okay good. I’ll get him in here as soon as I can.” Judge stands, collecting all the files I prepared for them. “I’m going to head out, I have a few things to take care of and I want to call Bear and see what he thinks about the legal side.” His phone chirps from his pocket, “Speak of the devil, this is him now. I’ll talk to you all in a bit.” He strides from the room, phone already to his ear. “So Addy, you’ve met him, what do you think?” Willow asks, thoughtfully twirling a

long strand of hair around her finger. “I didn’t spend a ton of time with him, but he seems like a decent guy. Cocky and a little bit of a jackass, but Jimmy Don believes in him and for that I can overlook his jackassness.” We laugh at that, Beau’s music still playing quietly in the background, his voice coasting over me as if he’s right in the room. “But aside from that, you think he’s all right? A good fit for us?” Stone questions, as he pulls yet another lollipop from his pocket. “I honestly do. I wouldn’t have even brought him to y’all if I didn’t think that we could really make this work for him … and us. He may not admit it because he’s just as stubborn as your ass,” I point an accusing finger at Stone, “but this whole thing is weighing heavily on him. On Jimmy Don too. I’ve never seen him so frazzled in all my life. Good Lord, Beau’s about to give that man an ulcer.” “That’s what worries me. Jimmy Don clearly can’t handle him, so who do we have that can? I mean, honestly? He can be the bad boy of country music all he wants, but he can’t be showing up to concerts and award shows messed up no matter how awesome he is. The fans will only put up with that for so long.” Willow isn’t wrong. “Aww, Birdie. Cut him some slack. He just lost his woman. It wasn’t a breakup. She died. That’s not something he can just bounce back from. Let’s meet him before we decide he needs a babysitter, okay?” Stone’s voice is full of compassion and understanding. He knows better than most what it’s like to hit rock bottom and lose it all. He’s been there, done that, and is still standing. For that reason alone I think we’re a good fit for Beau. “You’re right, Stone. I’m going to wait ’til I meet him to make my decision. I’ll know if he’s trouble or not. I can spot trouble from a mile away,” Willow teases. “That’s because trouble has a big dick and a stash of watermelon lollies.” “Oh Lord have mercy. Get out of my office with all that mess. I need to make some calls and do some actual work.” I shoo them out, laughing when Stone tosses Willow over his shoulder. One day I’ll find a love like theirs. One that makes all the bad days worth it; all the highs better than any low. Those two radiate that love. I thought I had found it once before but I was wrong. I won’t be making that mistake again. I’m not a foolish young girl with hearts in her eyes over the captain of the football team anymore. I’ve grown since then and I’ll continue to grow. Like my mama always says, my man’s out there, he just hasn’t earned me yet.

5

BEAU

T

he sun’s barely up and I’ve already put in a couple hours work. I’m sweaty, covered in dirt, and sporting a gash under my eye from an overeager mare. My mama was right, the new paint is pretty. High strung, but pretty. With Shep sitting beside me in the cab of the truck, I bypass the main house and head to my place to shower and change. I don’t have long before I need to be downtown. Jimmy called last night to tell me Stone Lockhart wanted to meet with me before they come to a decision. I hope like hell I’m not supposed to make some mind-blowing first impression. That’s a lot of pressure to put on an asshole like me, especially in the mood I’ve been in. Jumping out of the truck I hold the door and wait for the dog to follow. We go to the mudroom door so that I can strip out of the filthy clothes and dusty boots there before tracking dirt through the house. Mama would kill me since it’s her old friend Connie who comes and cleans the place for me. She doesn’t like me making it too hard on her. Shep goes to the water bowl in the corner, makes a big enough mess for three dogs, and then flops down on his bed. Pissed my brother off to no end that Shep has abandoned his side now that I’m home again. Shep’s always been my dog though, even with me being gone all the time. My phone chirps as I’m striding through my living room in nothing but my boxer briefs and a layer or two of ranch dirt. “What’s up, Jimmy?” I ask, wrenching the water on in the shower. “I’m on my way now. Should I pick you up at your parents’ place or yours? “ “Mine. I’m jumping in the shower now. I’ll be ready.” “Okay, just wanted to make sure.” He sounds anxious. Is he nervous about this? Should I be? “You okay, Jim? Checking in on me? It’s the middle of the day—what kind of trouble can I get into?” I joke, knowing damn well I can get into all types of trouble no matter what time of day it is. “Like that matters,” he scoffs. “Just be ready, I’ll beep.” “See ya.” “Bring your guitar just in case,” he says as I’m disconnecting. Just in case of what? I’m in no mood to be auditioning for anybody.

More pissed off than I probably should be, I step under the too-hot stream of water, gritting my teeth against the heat just long enough for it to rinse some of the grime from my body. Soaping up and rinsing, I turn the water to a more bearable temperature. Feeling nearly human, I squirt more shower gel into my hand, giving myself another washing. Head bent, water running over me, I try to let it ease some of the tension from my shoulders. The only good thing about being out on the ranch working all day is that I didn’t have a minute to think about how everything is up in the air. Now that I’m back here in the quiet of my house, there’s nothing but the shower cascading down around me to buffer out my thoughts, and they’re running wild with what-ifs. What if Hard Candy doesn’t sign me? What if nobody does? What if I can’t get this fucking album out on my own and I’m through? What if? Knowing that no good can come of that way of thinking, I roll my shoulders to try to relax some of that pent up tension. When that doesn’t work, I palm my cock, letting the water that trickles down my forearms and fingers act as a lubricant as I glide a hand over the head, fisting the tip. Up and over, around and down. Again and again, until I feel some of that tension dissipate, little by little as I get closer to my release. With the water still falling around me, I come with a grunt of pleasure. Sated and relaxed. It isn’t until I’m toweling off that I realize it was Addy Mae and her very real set of tits and pretty face I had been picturing in my mind as I came all over my shower wall. Well, fuck.

J

immy Don and I walk into the office situated right in downtown Austin and are greeted by an older lady with blue hair and glasses straight out of the 1950’s. She glances at us over the top of them and presses a button on her phone, probably letting Addy know that we’re here. “You must be Beau and Jimmy Don,” she greets warmly. “Yes, ma’am,” I answer as Jimmy shifts his briefcase to his other hand to shake her hand. “You must be Nelle. Addy speaks real highly of you, ma’am.” Pleased by that, she smiles. “Well, that’s good because I’m mighty fond of her too. You boys can follow me this way.” Nelle leads the way down a short hall, stopping at a door with Addy’s name on it and knocking before pushing it open. Addy sits behind her desk laughing, a heavily tattooed man sitting on the edge of it talking animatedly. “Sorry to disturb y’all, but you’ve got company.” “You could never disturb me, Miss Nelle,” the man I know is Stone Lockhart says, making her preen. I’ve never met him, but I did some research. He’s lead singer of the rock band Wrecked. They’ve won every award possible in the industry or damn near. They’ve had an amazing career so far. Even after his stint in rehab for what was rumored as a pretty serious drug addiction. Now though, he seems to have his shit together. They’re still topping the charts, selling out tours and have started their own label. Not too bad for a guy only a couple years older than me. “Jimmy Don, Beau,” Addy says rising and coming around the front of her desk.

Jimmy envelopes her in an easy hug, same as he did when we met for lunch. It makes me wonder just how well they know each other. Addy turns to me, a hand held out to shake. “Beau. Glad you could make it on such short notice.” She points at the angry cut under my eye, “Hope that doesn’t mean you found trouble after our talk.” She’s going for tough and businesslike, and she probably would have succeeded if I hadn’t been picturing her while I came just an hour before. Now, I just see her with sexed up hair and bare tits. Probably not the smartest thing when the fate of my future rests in her hands. Hands I want all over me for real and not just in my fantasies. I’m not even sure where the hell this want has come from. I’m not that guy. I don’t lust after women. They lust after me, and I take what they have to offer and leave. Just ask Jenny. The thought makes bile rise in my throat. Now is not the time, dickhead. I shake off the thought and return my attention to the wet dream standing in front of me, waist-length hair in messy waves, a pencil skirt, and a denim shirt that looks like it came from a man’s closet. The thought pisses me off. “Nope. No trouble.” I jerk my chin in her direction, “You doing the walk of shame? No time to go home, had to borrow one of your boyfriend’s shirts?” Addy doesn’t say anything, just narrows her eyes at me. Jimmy breaks the awkward silence with a nervous laugh. “Stone, it’s so great to see you, man. It’s been awhile,” I hear him say, my eyes still locked on Addy’s frigid hazel eyes. Similar to my own but prettier. And filled with more hate. She doesn’t break eye contact. “Stone, this peach is Beau McCrae, the man you wanted to meet.” Her drawl is thicker when she’s irritated. I’ll have to remember that. I tear my gaze from hers to offer a hand to Stone. He’s watching the two of us thoughtfully. “Nice to meet you, Beau,” he says with a firm shake. “Likewise.” “Addy, you and Jimmy Don catch up a bit, I’m gonna take Beau to my office so we can talk without you two trying to kill each other.” Stone doesn’t sound upset about our little moment that Addy and I had … more curious that anything really. Jimmy gives me a pleading look and a “go get ‘em, tiger” thumbs up. Stone leads the way out of Addy’s office, down a couple to what I assume is his door. “Come in, bro,” he says, welcoming me into the large room. Floor-to- ceiling windows flank the two desks facing each other, one masculine, the other feminine. Definitely a hisand-hers set up. Guitars and concert paraphernalia line the walls along with lyrics and sheet music, some of it drawn right on to the wall. In the corner is a seating area with four chairs and a coffee table and then tucked in the other corner of the room is what I’m almost certain is a tantra chair. I make a note not to sit on it and another to order one for my place. We walk to the circle of chairs and he indicates for me to sit. “You want a drink?” He reaches into a little fridge stashed out of the way. “You got a beer in there?” He lets out a deep laugh, rubbing a tattooed hand over the back of his equally tattooed neck. “Fuck, I wish. Have issues with control. I have none.” He shrugs and tosses me a

water. “Sometimes control is overrated,” I answer, twisting the baseball cap on my head backwards, leaning back to drink my water. “Won’t get any argument from me there. My sponsor and my woman might argue the fuck out of that though.” Stone swigs from his own water, sitting in the seat opposite me. “So is it control issues or a broken heart that has you acting a fool all over the place?” All right then, it’s like that. All of a sudden this is feeling more like an interrogation. “Neither.” I meet his eyes, my features schooled into a bored expression. He’s not fazed. “No? So you’re just an asshole who doesn’t care about his career?” Stone isn’t pussyfooting around the subject. “I’ve been all three of those guys, bro. I just need to know which I’m dealing with with you so that I know if you’re worth the risk or not.” Leaning back he crosses his arms over his chest and waits on me to answer. Is this dude for real? “I don’t think I’m any of those things. I’m just trying to live my life without someone dictating my every move.” I wipe my palms down my thighs in irritation, the soft denim pulling taut with each swipe. “Trying to live your life or set it on fire?” His tone isn’t condescending, just questioning, as he reaches for a cigarette and a space age looking ashtray and lights up. I watch as the ashtray sucks in the smoke like a vacuum. “Listen, Stone, I get that you think that I’m a risk, but I’m also a grown ass man. I haven’t always made the best choices, but I’m not a total fuckup.” The muscle in my jaw ticks. “The last few months haven’t been my best moments for reasons beyond my control.” His eyebrow disappears into his floppy hair. “Mostly beyond my control.” Stone interrupts, “Beau, with all due respect, that’s bullshit. You’re the only one in control of you. I’m really sorry about your girl. That would be enough to push me over the fucking edge, believe you me. But don’t make excuses for your fuckups. You gotta own them if you’re gonna move past them. Trust me.” The man in front of me with his million and one tattoos, piercings in his nose and ears, smoke swirling around him like an apparition, he’s all rock star, but a real guy too, down to Earth. Seen shit I never have or will if his bio is anything to go by. But still a real guy. I can appreciate that. But it doesn’t mean I want to be his fucking best friend. I don’t want to lie on his fucking couch and pour my heart out to him. Like I told Addy, I need a label, not another mother. “My fuckups aren’t anything to write home about.” I shrug. “I drink too much sometimes, and I fuck random chicks I have no intention of seeing again. I’m not out doing drugs.” I cringe. “No offense.” “None taken.” “Or hurting anyone. Not even myself really.” “Just your career.” He’s got me there. “So you don’t have a problem?”

“Not even a little.” My voice doesn’t waver. My gaze doesn’t shift. For a beat we’re silent. Just watching each other. Finally he nods in acceptance. “Can you try to not show up trashed at award shows and trust us to work on some good publicity to bury all this rag mag bullshit?” I grimace. The award show was not my finest moment. I nod that I can. “What kind of publicity? I spent the last couple years being a puppet over at Glenn Co.; I won’t do that here.” “We don’t want to control you. I know what it’s like to be with a label like that. To be their fuckboy. That won’t happen here.” He takes a drag of the cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Your music stands on its own merit. I want you to be able to share it with the world. We’ll help you in any way we can. We just won’t let you drag us down with you if that’s what you’re hellbent on doing.” “Fair enough.” Stone grins crookedly through a haze of smoke. “Good. Welcome to Hard Candy Records.”

6

ADDY

o now that we’ve signed the jackass, what’s the plan?” I ask, plopping down in “S Willow’s desk chair facing Stone. “He is a bit of a jackass, isn’t he?” “He reminds me of a country boy version of you,” I deadpan. Stone bursts out in loud laughter. “Fuck off, Addy.” I smile slyly. “Not my fault you’re both assholes. Anyway, what’s the plan?” There’s a quick knock at the door, though I’m not sure why Judge bothered, the door is open. “So do we have a new artist?” “We do,” I answer as he sits on the corner of the desk, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. “So he’s a decent guy, Stone? You feel good about him?” “I do. I think he’s just doing his thing, maybe thumbing his nose at the man a bit, but I don’t think he has any kind of serious problem or that he’ll hurt what we’re trying to build here.” Judge nods briskly. “Good enough for me. Bear is working on the finishing touches of his contract now. We need to get him into the studio to record.” Judge looks over at me. “We have to work hard and fast on this release, and I want to get him some good publicity. A charity something, benefit concert, trip to the children’s hospital, all that shit. We also need to keep him out of strip clubs, bars, and anywhere else he can meet a woman because clearly he has a thing for quick and easy if the tabloids are any indication.” Scrunching my face and rolling my eyes, I continue jotting down notes. I handle the majority of the scheduling and PR stuff with Judge since music isn’t necessarily our thing. “Got it. I’ll work on all that today while we wait on Bear.” “Addy, I want you to go with him to these charity events and shit.” My gaze flies to Stone at the same time Judge’s head snaps up, a confused look on his face. “Why?” we both ask him at the same time. Stone rolls his eyes at us. “Because he needs to be seen with a respectable woman.

One we don’t have to worry about running to the tabloids with nude pictures. The Country Music Awards are coming up. I want you there with him especially. He shows up drunk to one more big event like that and he’s done. Not just with us, but with music.” What he’s saying makes total sense, but I don’t understand why I can’t just find him someone. There has to be someone I know that would tick all our boxes. “Why can’t we ask Scarlet to do it? Former model, related to rock star royalty. Makes more sense.” Before Stone even has a moment to contemplate the option, Judge is shooting it down. “Nope. Plus nobody would believe it. She would never date a country boy. He lives on a ranch, for fuck’s sake. Could you see Scar on a ranch?” The fact that he’s so adamantly against this is not lost on either me or Stone. Interesting. He’s right though. She would never be caught dead on a ranch. Sighing in defeat, I concede, knowing that I’m our only option for the time being at least. “Fine. But the money for my dress is coming out of petty cash.” I point my finger at Stone. “Take whatever you need.” He grins. Judge still doesn’t seem convinced but I’m pretty sure he’s keeping quiet lest I try volunteering Scarlet again. Traitor. “Did you let him know about this brilliant idea of yours?” “Nope. I told him he was going to have to trust us to handle his PR and he agreed. You can tell him when you get stuff lined up. I’m just the mastermind behind the music.” Stone winks at me and stands. “I’m heading out to spend the day with my girls. If you need me, I’ll call you,” he jokes, strolling out with a lollipop in his mouth. Judge stands and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “You okay with this? Because if you’re not we can figure something else out.” He will too. Judge is the fairest person you’ll ever meet. That’s the reason he’s in the situation he is with his whatever you want to call her, I think bitterly. “Do you think it’s the best course of action?” I know he won’t lie to me. If he thinks it’s smart, he’ll tell me. “It sounds crazy until you actually think about it for a second.” He scrunches his face. “I hate to admit it, but this is a smart PR move and Stone came up with it and not us.” I can’t help but laugh as his petulance. “We’ll get him next time, darlin’.” Judge snorts out a soft laugh. “If you think it’s smart, it’s smart. I don’t particularly enjoy him but maybe once I get to know him a bit better…” I trail off. Beau isn’t a bad guy, just a little rough around the edges. He’s Southern boy humble and country star cocky all wrapped in one tall, fine-as-hell man. I think the fact that I think he’s so hot pisses me off more than anything. Sighing deeply I stand and loop my arm through Judge’s. “Let’s go, Judgey. I need a drink.” He chuckles and pats my hand. “It’s just past noon.” “It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

“C an I have another, please?” I pass the server my empty glass, empty except for the couple chunks of fruit from the house-made sangria the restaurant is famous for.

“Oooh, look out now.” Scarlet laughs delightedly, her own sangria still nearly full. “Bad day at the office, babe? “Yes. No.” I scoop some salsa onto a chip savoring the salty tang and spicy mix before trying again. “We signed Beau McCrae to the label today.” “That’s what Willow said,” Scarlet answers bouncing in her seat a bit. “She also said he’s hot as hell.” She waggles her perfectly sculpted brows at me. “He is. Ridiculously so.” The server places a fruit laden glass in front of me, smiling when I gush my thanks. “Your brother and Judge have basically pimped me out to him so that we can work on cleaning up his image.” Those waggling eyebrows of hers disappear into her hair and stay there as she waits for me to elaborate. “We’re going to set him up with some charity to-do’s, and he needs a babysitter for the Country Music awards because he can’t be trusted to show up sober.” I don’t miss the irony in that statement as I take a huge sip of my drink. “So you’re going with?” I nod that I am. “And this is a bad thing why?” “Because I can’t like him and I kinda do. He’s sexy in this totally bad boy rancher singer guy kind of way.” “Why can’t you?” Exasperated I huff. “Because he’s a client. Because he’s Beau McCrae. And trouble with a capital T. And did I mention that he’s a client.” “I don’t get it.” “Oh my God, Scarlet.” “What? You’re an adult, so is he. So what if you’re technically his boss? That could be hot.” Her grin is hidden behind the rim of her glass, silver bracelets jangling over her intricately tattooed arms. “It’s wrong on so many levels and you know it, you rebel.” She blows me a kiss, “There’s nothing wrong with sleeping with him as long as he’s a consenting adult. Just don’t do anything stupid like fall in love with him. This way walking away won’t matter.” “Easier said than done, Scar. I haven’t had a serious boyfriend in forever and you know I like the bad boys. I’m liable to catch a hard case of feelings for him.” I sigh deeply. “Why do I like the bad boys, Scarlet?” “Because they’re hot.” “Have you seen him?”

“I haven’t but I’m thinking that I need to.” “What do you need to do?” Willow asks sliding into the booth next to Scarlet. “About time you showed up. I didn’t think you were coming.” I pout. “Sorry, Lyric is teething and I couldn’t get her down for her nap.” She does look a little frazzled. Willow dips into the salsa and moans appreciatively. “Oh my gosh, this is so good. Way better than the Mexican in Toronto for sure.” “Yeah, but we don’t have poutine here,” Scarlet points out. “No. And that is a dirty, dirty shame,” Willow says around another chip. The server comes over and takes our order then bounces off to hopefully bring me back another sangria. I look over to find Willow and Scar both looking at me funny. “What?” I snap. “Not a thing, baby girl. Not. A. Thing. You do you,”Scar says, hands in the air in surrender. “So, what were you two talking about?” Willow asks as she salts the chips. “Oh nothing. Just the fact that Addy has a thing for this Beau guy and I told her she should go for it.” Willows eyes go wide “McCrae?” I groan but Scar just talks over me. “Yup. And she’s worried about getting attached. Well, that and the fact that he’s a client. I told her she’s being silly, to just do it.” “No. No, no, no. You can’t, Addy.” Willow is adamant. “What? Why?” Scarlet asks confused. “She can’t. She’ll get attached. She gets attached to everything.” “I do not! And don’t talk about me like I’m not sitting here.” “You do, Addy. Remember when you watched Nelle’s little dog when she went on vacation? You were inconsolable when she came home and picked him up.” “Oh whatever. He was adorable.” “You had him for a week,” she reminds. “Then there was that time freshman year with the youth ministry counselor your dad had stay with you for the summer. You swore that he was the one. Like ready to have his little preacher babies and everything. And when he left you wore black for a month.” Scarlet smothers a laugh, not even affected by my narrow-eyed glare. “You’re being ridiculous. I was young and impressionable.” “I can do this all day, Addy. Plus,” she says gently, “you haven’t had a serious relationship since Calvin.” Just hearing his name makes me feel a certain way. “We’re not going there today, Willow. And I’ve had plenty of boyfriends since him.”

She raises her hands palms up. “I’m not. And you have not. Nobody serious anyway. But I do think that you should get out there and date someone that isn’t Beau McCrae. He’s a hot mess right now.” Scar cuts in, “Um, hello, pot…” She trails off on a laugh. “What? I’m not a hot mess!.” Willow says indignantly. “You’re not, but my brother’s been a hot mess most of his damn life.” “She’s right about that, Willow.” When she flips me off, I laugh. “I’m just sayin’ is all.” “Which is why I know what I’m talking about.” This logic is not going to work on me. “Listen, you’re a big girl, you’re going to do what you want. Just be careful. He’s carrying around a ton of hurt feelings and looking to get lost in every chick that comes his way. I don’t want to see you end up hurt because you were just a distraction for him.” Our food comes, silencing Willow but not Scar. “You’ll just have to be the best damn distraction he’s had in a long while. Start at swallowing. Nobody remembers a spitter.” The server that brought out our food damn near loses the tray he’s holding. Scarlet shows neither him or me any mercy. “Am I right?” He looks around the table wide-eyed. It doesn’t help that we’re all watching him, waiting for his answer. “She’s right,” he says sheepishly, passing out our meals as quickly as he can, then beating feet away from the table of crazy ladies talking about oral sex at supper. Good thing my daddy can’t hear us. Scar points her fork at me. “I’m telling you. Use him as the distraction, it’ll do you good.” Willow shakes her head in defeat as she takes a bite of her tamales. She’s right to worry. I know how I am. I can deny it all I want. If I let myself mess around with Beau McCrae and his fine behind, I’m gonna get my heart broken and don’t nobody have time for that. As if summoned, his face pops up on the TVs situated in every corner of the restaurant. The video playing is from his last album, a song about a bad breakup, him sitting at a bar looking forlorn and all country bad boy hotness. “Oh my God, is that him?” Scarlet asks, mouth agape. “Woman, if you don’t distract him, I will.” She pretends to fan herself. “Don’t even think about it, Scar.” I don’t know if I’m willing to take the risk, he’s kind of a jackass. But I like it. What is wrong with me? Have I learned nothing? My gaze travels back to the music video taunting me, his smirking face partially hidden in the shadow of his customary baseball cap. Truth be told, I’ve been crushing on him since he came on the scene, I just never thought I’d come face-to-face with the man, so it made no difference. Now though I’m going to be spending a lot of time with him and this little fangirl crush thing is making me ornery. I’m not the type to get silly over a celebrity. I just have to remember that.

7

BEAU

T

he sun is setting but still blazing down on me, Sealy, and Shep. It’s reflecting off the water of the creek, making it appear on fire. I toss my baited line into the water and lean back in my lawn chair, the dog watching my every move. We’ve been down here fishing since we finished our morning chores hours ago. My dad had some business to take care of in town so I told him I’d help Sealy with his so he didn’t have to worry about it all when he got back. It’s about the only help the stubborn bastard will take from me. “So how long you think you’re gonna be in town for this time?” my brother asks as he pops the top on a beer from the cooler. “Not sure. I’ll know more once I get the contract today I hope. Why?” “Just askin’ is all. I’m leaving in a few months to get back on the circuit. Dad hired two more guys to start though so he won’t have to pick up any extra work with the rodeo stock.” “I didn’t know you were heading back out.” My brother is a professional bull rider. He’s been crushing the rodeo circuit for a few years now. He hurt his shoulder some months ago and hasn’t been able to compete since. The rodeo never really stops though. They ride from January to November so he missed out on a lot of the season with it being July already. “Yeah, I’m going to wait ’til they start up again in January. I won’t get the points I need now to qualify so there’s no use.” “So the shoulder is all healed up?” Rolling his injured arm, he nods. “Good as new. I took it slow. I needed the break anyway.” “I hear that.” I chuckle, tipping my beer back, savoring the icy cold brew. “Didn’t take you long to find another label though. You had me worried there for a minute, brother.” He tosses me a cocky smile. “Thought you were gonna stay home with us normal folk.” I beam him with my bottle cap. “Jimmy is good at what he does. Speaking of,” glancing at my watch, “he should be here any minute with my new contract.” Just then we hear someone pull up, the gravel drive crunching beneath tires. Shep bounds off, barking

playfully. “Think he’ll find us down here?” Sealy asks me, sounding way more concerned than I am. “Shep’ll bring him to us.” “You’re right.” Slouching down in my chair a bit farther, I’m startled upright when I hear a woman’s voice talking sweetly to Shep. My brother looks over at me questioningly. Slowly, I crane my neck and look behind me. Addy is picking her way across the bank, Shep trotting happily at her side. Dog’s a damn flirt. I can’t say that I blame him. She looks especially hot today in a sundress, little flowers dotted all over it, and flip flops, her hot pink toes sexier than they ought to be. My brother and I stand to greet her. Out of the side of his mouth he says “Hooo wheee, she lost? I’ll help her find more than her way.” I elbow him in the ribs, satisfied when he lets out a grunt of pain. “Well, hey there, darlin’, didn’t expect to see you here today.” “Don’t call me ‘darlin’.’” That’s all I get in the way of a greeting. My brother snickers. “Course not, Sugar. Wouldn’t dream of it.” She rolls her pretty hazel eyes, done up just enough that I noticed. “Jimmy Don and I had lunch and went over your contract.” “He told me. I was expecting him to bring it for me to sign.” She’s standing in front of us now, Shep sitting at her feet. “His mama called and asked for a favor. I told him I could bring it out to you since I was coming this way anyhow.” Her voice is all honey when she speaks of Jimmy and his family, but goes back to prickly pear when she says, “Well, are you gonna introduce me to your friend or did you leave your manners on tour?” A slow smile works its way across my mouth. “Reckon they’re back in a church parking lot on my tour bus.” She looks about ready to stomp off. “Addy Mae Masterson, this is my little brother Sealy. Sealy this is Addy. She’s with Hard Candy who I’m fixin’ to sign with.” My brother takes the hand that she offers up, a real smile warming her face when he tips his straw Stetson like the true blue cowboy he is. Not giving him time to charm Addy anymore than he already has, I draw her attention back to me. “Sealy was just leaving. We can go back up to the house and get everything signed.” “I was?” my brother asks, amused. “Yep.” With a hand at the small of her back, I ignore the little zing of heat touching her causes and lead her to my house, the dog and my brother following right behind. I’m pretty sure I hear Sealy laughing softly but don’t bother turning to check, just following behind Addy, doing my best not to reach out and palm her ass as I watch it sway in front of me, the skirt of her dress flirting with the backs of her knees. What I wouldn’t give for a good gust of wind to come ripping through right about now and twirl that dress up Once at the back door, I slap my leg for Shep to follow and wave to my brother. “Tell mama I won’t be there for dinner.” He nods and turns to Addy.

“It was so nice to meet you. Maybe next time my brother won’t be hellbent on rushing you off so we can sit for a spell.” Oh he’s really laying it on thick. Since when was his drawl so twangy? “I’d like that.” I grimace when she answers. My brother needs no encouragement. With a finger to the brim of his hat, he hops in his truck parked in my drive and heads to his place on the property. With over four thousand acres there’s no reason for us to ever move from McCrae land. We could still live far enough apart from each other to have our own space without being too far from the main house. The door propped open, I wave her in. “After you, Sugar.” She doesn’t give me hell for the endearment. Maybe I’m making progress. Coming up behind her, I give her a second to take in the place. It’s nothing super fancy but it is big. Lots of reclaimed wood and industrial lighting, and a huge island with concrete countertops cuts the great room from the kitchen. I try to see it through her eyes, but I don’t know her well enough. Jenny always thought it was too masculine. I like it because it’s simple. “Wow, Beau. This is beautiful.” She means it. I can hear the appreciation in her tone. “Thank you. It’s home. You want a tour?” “Oh, I don’t want to impose. I’m sure you have things to do.” Even as Addy says it, her eyes are making curious sweeps of the room. “No trouble. Come on.” Without thinking about it, I take her hand and tug her behind me to the front door. “I know you saw the front pullin’ up, but you have to come in the front door to get the full effect.” “Your porch is gorgeous. I would live out there.” She sighs a little wistfully. “You don’t have a porch? Girl, you can’t live in Texas and not have at least a front porch.” “I know. It’s awful. I live in an apartment downtown. I need to get back to my roots and move back out to the country.” I like this Addy. The one that doesn’t want to kill me and talks sweet to me same as she does everybody else. We step out on the front porch and then promptly step back into the house. It’s a little silly but necessary. “You weren’t kidding. Coming in the back door does it no justice. Look at those beams!” “Nice, right? Those came from right here on the ranch. All of this old wood did, matter of fact. We took it from the original barn over on the back forty.” “Oh I love that! This is straight out of an episode of Farmhouse Fresh, you know that?” she exclaims excitedly. “I have no fucking clue what that is, but okay.” I laugh. “It’s this TV show, I’m a little obsessed with it. They take old houses set in the country, mostly small farm towns and fix them up.” She talks as she walks through the family room running a hand across the back of the tobacco-colored couch. “This is so their style. I just love it. It’s very modern farmhouse.”

Whatever that means. Pointing to the massive fireplace, “Is that all wood from the barn too?” “Yep. We even used the actual doors in my room.” I walk away, leading a woman to my room for the first time in my life for something other than fucking. “I have barn doors in a couple places here, but the ones leading into and inside my bedroom are original.” There’s a pair of double barn doors that leads into the master, I slide them open and she steps in. Thankfully Connie was here today, so the room is immaculate. All grays and muted blues with wood accents. Three guitars hanging on the far wall. There’s another set of double barn doors that lead into the bathroom and a single one that leads into the massive closet that I’ll never be able to fill even halfway. “This is stunning.” She disappears into the bathroom and then comes back out, peaking into the closet. Good thing I’m not shy or anything. “I had a great team. I told them what I wanted, went on tour, and came back to this.” I shrug. “Well, aren’t you lucky?” We walk back out to the living room, Shep waiting by the couch for us. Addy takes a seat, perching on the edge of the cushion as she pulls papers out of her bag and spreads them out on the coffee table in front of her. Guess it’s time to get down to business. “You want something to drink?” “No, thanks,” she answers distracted as she gets her piles in order. I take the time to admire her. Tanned legs, dainty feet, and all that damn hair. The urge to reach out and wrap it around my fist should shock me. It doesn’t. Miss Addy Mae has put the sex in sexy and the fact that she doesn’t seem to like me or that she’s basically my boss doesn’t in the least diminish the fact that I want to fuck her clear into next week. She glances up and catches me staring. “What?” “Nothing at all, Sugar. Just waiting for you to be ready for me.” “I’m ready for you.” “Careful. I might go and take that the wrong way.” “Take it any way you want as long as you sit down and sign these papers. We have a couple things to discuss.” Yup, she’s all business now. I take a seat next to her and she promptly slides papers over and hands me a pen. “I’ve already explained all of this to Jimmy Don, but I can go through it with you too.” “Just give me the Cliff’s Notes version.” “We’ll record the album you’re currently working on as soon as possible. Jimmy Don says you have a group of guys that rotate out on the road with you and that you want to keep them with you, so that’s in here.” I nod hoping that was what they’d say. “Then over a five-year period you’ll have to commit to three additional albums and three tours.” The whole time she’s talking I’m watching her mouth, the way her lips tip up the slightest bit like she’s on the verge of smiling even though she’s not. The swath of bubble gum pink

gloss I’d love to see left behind on my cock. These thoughts aren’t going to win me any points with her. She’s a ballbuster when she’s serious, and right now she looks pretty serious. “Does that all sound acceptable to you?” “Yes, ma’am.” My eyes fall to her lips again all of their own accord. Then down to where the thin cotton of her sundress molds to her chest, the round globes high and more than a mouthful. I shift, trying to ease the bite of my zipper against my swelling dick. Fuck. I need to get out and get laid. I can’t be chasing after Miss Addy Mae “I hate your face” Masterson. She clears her throat, and I draw my eyes to hers. Funny, she doesn’t look like she hates my face right now. Actually, she looks a little like she might want to sit on my face. She keeps looking at me like that, and I’m apt to offer her a seat. Fidgeting a bit she crosses her legs, drawing her already short skirt up even higher on her smooth, honeycolored leg. Wrong move. I shift so that my leg comes into contact with hers, testing the waters to make sure I’m not getting these signals all mixed up. When her breath catches, I know I’m not. Just as I reach my hand out to run a finger down her bared-to-me thigh, my house phone rings. Knowing that my mama is the only one who ever calls me on it, I cuss under my breath and snatch up the handset from the table behind the couch. “Yes, mama?” I bite out, a little more short than I meant to. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Addy straighten her spine and school her features like she’s come to her senses. Shit. Listening to my mama prattle on, I feel my hard on dwindle and my blood cool. “Yes, ma’am, we’ll be right down.” Ending the call, I look at Addy to see that she’s cooled considerably. Probably for the best. “You hungry? Mama said supper’s ready and we’re expected to show up.” Her eyes widen. “Me? No. That’s all right. You can just sign these two spots and we can talk about the other stuff later.” She pushes the pen I hadn’t realized I put down back into my hand. “Here.” She taps a spot with her fingernail, waiting on me to do her bidding. “She’s not gonna let you leave without coming to supper. She knows you’re here and she’s decided you’re coming. That’s all there is to it when it comes to Jolynn McCrae. Trust me.” I scribble my name where she indicated and wait as she flips the page to the next signature line, her bottom lip clamped between her teeth. Signing the last page, I toss the pen down. “You think you can be nice to me, pretend you like me just long enough to have a meal with my parents?” Smirking I nudge her leg with mine. “I don’t dislike you.” She tries to convince us both. “Okay then, you think you can keep from jumping my bones at the table?” That’s met with an evil eye that has me barking out a laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes. For now.” Winking I stand, offering my hand to help her up. Hurriedly she stashes her papers into a manila file and slips it into her bag before taking my offer of help. “We have a lot more to go over.” “I just signed my life over to you. We have all the time in the world now, Sugar.” I use my drawl to draw out the word, taunting her with it. But again, she doesn’t take the bait. I think she might like my teasing. And I think that I might like that. A little too much.

8

ADDY

I

didn’t come here thinking I would meet his whole damn family. Not that it should matter. We’re nothing but business associates. I have nothing to be nervous about. I know that’s a damn lie though. This is a Texan mama. She’s gonna judge me the moment I sit down for supper and then pray for me at church on Sunday if she finds me lacking. And she will find me lacking because again, she’s a Texan mama. Pulling up to the main house behind Beau’s truck, I take a second to admire the simple farmhouse, loving the fact that these people didn’t let Beau’s fame and fortune change them. My door opens, startling me. “You comin’ or are you just gonna sit out here all night watchin’ the fireflies?” With one quick glance in the rearview mirror at my face, I slide from the car, following behind him and Shep up the stairs of the wraparound porch and through the back door. Nobody uses the front door in Texas. The front door is for salesmen and strangers only. Before we go in, he stops and turns, leans in and in a hushed tone, “My family doesn’t know about the shit I’ve been in lately. My mama doesn’t read the tabloids or any of that and my dad is a rancher. If it’s not about cattle or horses, well, he doesn’t have a whole lot of time for it.” I nod in understanding, he nods in thanks. “Beau, is that you, baby?” We walk into the mudroom, similar to Beau’s setup, and then into a large kitchen. A woman with dark hair and a pretty apron placing things on a large table, Sealy and who I presume is Beau’s dad flipping through a catalog of some kind fill the space. They all look up as we enter. “Mama, this is Miss Addy Mae Masterson. Addy, Jolynn McCrae.” Since her hands are full I give a small wave. “You’ve met my ugly brother, Sealy, and this here is my dad, Everrett.” If Sealy is ugly, I’m purple with pink polka-dots. Before anyone has a chance to say much of anything, Jolynn bustles by. “Come on now and sit down and stop gawking, boys. Supper is ready.” Sealy winks at me. “Can’t help it, Mama. Not when there are two pretty girls in the house.” His mother beams then bristles. “You should be used to it. Hasn’t been that long since Jenny was sitting right here with us nearly every night. God rest her soul.” She turns to me. “Jenny was Beau’s someone. Had been since high school. Such a tragedy.” I’m pretty sure I was just put right in my place. Good thing my place was not as his new girlfriend or this would have gotten pretty

dang awkward. More so than it already is. “Mama,” Beau says in warning. “What? I’m just sayin’ is all.” “I’ve heard some about Jenny. Not a lot, but it’s really not my business.” I do my best to keep my tone respectful. She’ll definitely be praying for me on Sunday. “Love like that isn’t anybody’s business really. Only the good Lord’s and the two people in it.” She pins me with a look letting me know I would not be replacing Jenny at her dinner table. It’s not hostile, just telling. Well, not too hostile. “That’s enough, mama. Addy is with Hard Candy she just came by to go over my new contract and talk business.” He holds out a chair for me to sit in, whispering so only I can hear, “Sorry about that.” I smile up at him, scooting myself closer to the table as he takes the seat next to me. “Boys, hats.” Jolynn’s tone leaves no room for argument. Not that they try. All three men remove their hats, Sealy and their father, who has yet to speak to me, hang their Stetsons on the back of their chairs. Beau removes his ball cap, running his fingers through the mussed strands of dark brown hair, and places it on his knee. Mr. McCrae holds his hands out to Sealy and his wife, “Addy, would you like to say grace?” Well, at least this is one thing I’m good at. Taking Beau’s outstretched hand and then his brother’s, I suddenly find myself in the middle of a crazy hot McCrae sandwich. Lord have mercy, I’m gonna need to pray for more than this meal. Bowing my head I begin, “Heavenly Father, in a world where so many are hungry, may we eat this food with humble hearts. In a world where so many are lonely, may we share this friendship with joyful hearts. And may we never forget Jenny’s place at this table.” Maybe that will buy me some brownie points with Mama McCrae. “Amen,” we all answer in unison. I open my eyes and see the curious gazes of all the McCraes. “That was a mighty fine grace, Addy,” Everett McCrae says, smiling slightly. “Thank you, sir. My daddy is a preacher. If it’s one thing I know how to do, it’s pray.” “Are your people local?” “Yes, ma’am. Not too far from here, over in Liberty Hill.” “Small town girl. Those are always the wild ones,” Beau says smoothly, nudging my leg with his. Giving him a bit of stink eye, his mama passes the green beans and asks, “What business do you have with Beau if you don’t mind me asking?” Beau groans. “Mama, I told you what business she had here. You can stop with the third degree. She’s not here to use her womanly wiles on me. She barely even likes me.” He chuckles, “Ain’t that right, Sugar?” Sealy tries to smother a snicker but fails miserably. “That’s gotta be a first.”

“Well, Beau can’t win em’ all, although God knows he’s tried,” his father pipes in. “Reckon both my boys have.” He shakes his head and serves himself a helping of chicken. Mrs. McCrae doesn’t look as amused as the rest of us at this conversation. She should be glad I dislike her son. If only it were true. But if it were, then I wouldn’t be able to steal him from her precious Jenny. Which is not my intention. Even if I could since, ya know, Jenny has passed on. “Oh, mama, you look like you sucked on a lemon. Don’t worry, Addy likes Beau just fine.” “But not too fine,” I interject. Much to the McCrae boys’ delight. These two are trouble. I can’t even imagine what growing up with them would have been like. “I might have to work on that,” he drawls. My head pops up, our gazes clashing. “No. No, you don’t.” Lord have mercy if he puts any effort into it. I really will get attached and Mrs. McCrae will not be happy about that. Not even a little. “I like you well enough. You don’t have to work on anythin’.” “We’ll see,” he says in that sexy slow way he has, just loud enough for me to hear. His mama better pray for me on Sunday regardless.

A

fter the day I had and the tension at dinner, I got home and promptly treated myself to a nice hot bubble bath in my big fancy tub. I never even got to talk to him about the charity engagements I’ve been lining up or the fact that I’m going to have to tag along to all of them. That was the thing I was most dreading today, but even that would have been better than the awkward dinner with his family, the ghost of Jenny practically sitting in my lap. I’m going to do some more digging because Mrs. McCrae made it seem like they were soul mates destined to forever and damn near married. With the little bit of research that I did before presenting him to the guys it seemed like they were more off than on. At least that’s how the media made it seem. Finished slathering lotion on my legs and arms, I put the bottle on the nightstand and slip under the covers, the cool cotton sliding over my bare skin. I pull the sheet up to cover my breasts and pull out my laptop and type in his name. Picture after picture of him on stage fills the screen. The man has arm porn that just does not quit. Blowing up one picture, my eyes trace the line of his bicep, the white tank leaving them exposed, sweat glistening on tanned skin. Veins in his neck and forearms strain as he sings, the everpresent baseball cap pulled low as the lights and fog cast him in a cool blue hue. Sin. The man is pure sin. Flipping from one site to another, hot picture after hot picture, until I can’t remember what I was even supposed to be doing or how long I’ve been at it. All I know is that I am hot and bothered. By pictures. I click on a link for a video and his face fills my screen, his smirk in full force, his drawl slow and sexy as he sings about loving a bad boy. Never in my life has a Texas twang had an effect on me like his does. I hear it all day from just about everyone I pass. He has a way about him though. He talks slow, makes love to every word that rolls off his tongue. The next video that starts is one I’ve never seen before. He appears to be naked, rolling around in bed with an equally naked raven-haired beauty. I

grab my remote and switch the TV that hangs above the fireplace in my room on, calling up the smart TV feature, bringing Beau up on the 65-inch screen. The woman is straddling him in the bed of satin sheets and pillows, his hands dragging down her bare back and dipping below the material bunched at her waist. As I follow the path of his hands with my eyes, I let my own travel beneath the covers, my legs falling open to allow my fingers to slick through my gathering wetness. He rakes his teeth down her neck and across her shoulder, I swirl over my clit. Eyes locked on him, imagining that it’s me he now has rolled underneath him, the music swells, crashing around me. My breathing comes more quickly as I watch him pull her into his lap again so that she’s wrapped around him, her head thrown back in pleasure. It all looks so real, and I’m so close to coming because of it that I don’t care I won’t be able to look him in the face tomorrow. Right now all I care about is my body and the wave I’m about to crest while watching him with another woman. He chooses that moment to look right into the camera, right into my eyes, and I come hard and long with his name on my lips and my fingers buried in between my legs. Slowly, I tease the over sensitized bud, letting myself come down from the high Beau McCrae just brought me on. I can just see his smug face now. He would never let me live it down if he knew what I had just done. How hot he made me while looking at pictures of him and then watching videos of him in bed, singing about sins of the body. He should be against the law. Him and those damn arms. Letting my head fall back against the mound of pillows, I groan. I’m never gonna be able to stay away from him. Maybe I can be a distraction like Scarlet said and not let myself get attached. Calvin taught me just how hard I can fall and just how badly loving someone can hurt. I pull my hand away from my still-throbbing pussy and hit pause so that there’s a stillshot of him on stage, hand sandwiched between his legs as he belts out his song. If worst comes to worst, I know now I can just let videos of him distract me and pretend that that isn’t so damn sad. Getting up to wash my hands, I’m startled when my phone chirps. Picking it up off the nightstand I nearly throw it across the room when I see the text. Beau McCrae: Sorry about my mama tonight. My hands tremble, breathing labored as I try to reassure myself that he doesn’t know what I just did. I toy with the idea of ignoring the text when another comes through. Beau McCrae: The dots are dancin’ I know you saw this lol I didn’t picture Beau as a texter, let alone a texter who used “lol.” What the hell do I know though? Me: It’s fine. She clearly misses Jenny.

I

wonder if I shouldn’t have brought her up, if it’s painful for him to talk about. I know I don’t want to talk about Calvin and he’s not dead, just gone.

Beau McCrae: She does. That doesn’t mean she has to be cross with you though. Wasn’t like I brought you home to meet the family. I mean, I did but…

Me: lol I know what you’re saying. Anyway, I was gonna call you in the morning. I hit “send” but before I can finish what I was saying, he replies. Beau McCrae: Call me now. No. No, no, no. He’ll definitely know I just diddled myself. He’ll hear it in my voice. I just know it. I watch those three dots bounce, trying to think of an excuse. I’m too late. My phone rings and I try not to panic. Lord have mercy, Addy, get it together. It’s not like he has X-ray vision. “Hello, Beau.” “Didn’t think you were gonna answer.” He chuckles softly. “I thought about it.” That’s no lie. “That hurts my feelings.” “Ha. I don’t believe that for a second.” “You never know.” “Oh, I know.” “You’re right.” I hear a rustle in the background that sounds an awful lot like bed linens and try not to imagine what he looks like lying in that big ol’ bed of his, wondering if it’s as hot as the video was. “So what were you going to call me about tomorrow?” I shake my head to clear it of the vision of a naked Beau, not a stitch on, running a hand over his length as he talks to me. “Addy? You there?” Clearing my throat, I pinch my thigh hoping the pain will help to get my head straight. What in the world is wrong with me? “Ye-yes. Sorry, I was looking for my planner.” The little fib slips past my lips as I gather my thoughts. “I need to go over the charity events and travel engagements that Judge had me put together for you.” With my back against the plush headboard, I tuck the sheet under my arms. “Okay. Do you want to do lunch tomorrow?” “I can’t tomorrow.” “Hot date with your boyfriend?” Shifting, I go to give him a smart ass reply when I hit the play button on the remote and his voice fills the room causing me to jump. I scramble to find the clicker, but it’s too late. “Whatcha doin’ over there? You having a private Beau McCrae concert? I woulda given you a real one, all you had to do is ask.” He’s so pleased with himself right now. “It’s called research, Beau,” I bite out in a bored tone that I’m far from feeling. I’m about to hit the panic button and he’s laughing a rich rumble that does things to me. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Sugar,” he drawls smoothly. “Goodbye, Beau.” Before he can answer, I disconnect, my face flaming. I flop onto my stomach and bury

my head in my pillow, letting loose a frustrated scream. Since it’s muffled by the plush down, I do it again before rolling to my back and saying aloud to the empty room, “Trouble. With a damn capital T.”

9

BEAU

“S ay what now?” I ask Jimmy. “I thought Addy told you about this the other day when she was over there?” “We got sidetracked.” “What do you mean…sidetracked?” His tone is not amused. “I mean my mama had us come down for dinner. Don’t try to change the subject. And why are you acting all jealous? Something going on between you two, Jim?” Fuck, I hope not. “No, of course not. Addy and I have been friends for a long time. And as much as I like you, she’s not ready for the likes of you.” “I’ll pretend that I’m not offended by that.” “Pretend all you want, brother.” He laughs. “So back to what you were tellin’ me. Addy is gonna be my what? Babysitter?” “No. Nothing like that, Beau. More like your handler. She handles the marketing and PR side of the business. This is literally what she does. And she’s good at it.” “And she knows about this? Agreed to it?” “Absolutely. She’s the one who told me.” With the phone wedged between my shoulder and jaw, I stride to the door, keys in hand. I don’t fucking like it. I don’t like the fact that they think I need a god damn babysitter either. I told Stone I didn’t have a problem. “I’ll call you back in a bit, Jimmy.” I disconnect the phone and slide it into my back pocket. I don’t bother calling first—she’ll just give me the brush off. She hasn’t called me back since the other night. Thinking back to that conversation, this is probably what she wanted to discuss. Well, we’re gonna discuss it all right.

raffic into Austin is shit, and it takes me way longer than it should to get to Addy’s office. The elevator opens right in front of Nelle’s desk. She looks up and smiles in recognition.

T

“Mr. McCrae. What brings you here today? I don’t have you on the schedule.” She folds her hands on her desk , giving me her full attention.

“Miss Nelle.” I nod. “I don’t have an appointment but I was hoping that Addy was in so that I could speak to her for a spell.” “She is. She has company right now. Let me just ring her and see if she’s got time.” I nod and wait as she picks up the receiver and calls. I look around the bright space, pictures of the guys of Wrecked at concerts, bars, BBQ’s and every place in between. Addy and a woman I don’t know laughing, arms linked in some pictures, a baby in their arms in others. Her long hair blowing in the wind in one, piled on top of her head in another. I don’t know how I didn’t notice these the other day. “Beau, you can go on in.” Nelle interrupts my thoughts. “Thank you,” I answer, heading straight for her door, not bothering to knock before swinging it open. She’s standing behind her desk smiling at the woman sitting in the chair facing away from me. With the floor-to-ceiling window behind her, the sun frames her, making the pale blue dress she’s wearing nearly see through. If it weren’t for her waistlength hair coiled into a braid over her shoulder, I would be able to tell what color bra she’s wearing. I’m too busy letting my gaze roam over her to realize that they’re both looking at me now. The woman with her has short hair and some pretty heavy ink and looks so much like Stone she must be his sister. Their eyebrows raised, they’re waiting for me to say something, I reckon. For a second I nearly forget what the hell I’m there for. And then I remember. Pissed off all over again. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were gonna have to babysit me? That’s not what I signed up for, Addy.” She cocks her head, “Beau. How nice to see you,” she says sweetly, not meaning it even a bit. This is the first time I’ve seen her since we had dinner at my mama’s, and she’s back to being cool and collected. I don’t know that I like this Addy. “Scar, this is Beau. Beau this is Scarlet McKinley, Stone’s sister.” She gestures to Scarlet who is still watching me, amusement dancing across her gorgeous face. Another time, another place, and I may have taken my chances with Scarlet. She looks like a good time. Not today though. Not ever, really. I don’t need the kind of hassle I can tell she’d be. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a smokin’ hot woman when she’s in front of me though. I smile invitingly. “Pleasure to meet you, darlin’,” I drawl. Scarlet dips her head, her lips pursed in appreciation. “He’s good,” Scarlet says to Addy, taking me in from head to toe. Her manner is unhurried, like a woman who doesn’t care about getting caught ogling a man. I adjust myself purely for her benefit, a smirk flitting across my lips when Addy cuts in testily. “Y’all about done?” Scarlet lets loose a husky giggle. “He’s all yours, girl.” Addy responds with a snort and a roll of her eyes. “Please, don’t you go puttin’ that on me.”

“I’m standing right here. If you want me to put somethin’ on you, I’m happy to, Sugar,” I challenge. Scarlet claps her hands together. “Ooh, I like him.” She stands and waggles her fingers at Addy as she passes by me in a cloud of expensive perfume. “Take it easy on her, Cowboy.” With a wink and a wave, Scarlet is gone leaving me with an ornery Addy, arms crossed tight over her chest, eyes narrowed in my direction. It’s a sight. What is it about this woman that intrigues me? Yes, she’s gorgeous with her sun-kissed skin, hazel eyes, and that hair. But most of the time, I’m not even sure she likes me. I’m not sure why. I’m not sure she knows. Addy has a way of riding the line of liking me and not. I think it’s the way she does it. Cuts me to the quick with a pointed look but then soothes it with the honey of her drawl. She forgot to dislike me for a spell the other night. And I liked that Addy too. Taking the seat that Scarlet just vacated, I lean back, crossing my arms to match hers. “Well?” I question. She’s startled for a second before she recovers, remembering my question. “I tried to tell you the other day and then we had dinner with your folks and brother. I was going to call you here in a bit to go over some stuff with you,” she says a little less crossly. “Is that right?” “Yes.” Slipping into her chair she flips open a planner on her desk, searching for something while I take a second to wonder how much I’m going to hate this. Finally finding what she’s looking for, she speaks. “So Stone and Judge want us to focus on some good publicity—charity events, stuff in the community, showing up at award shows sober.” She trails off, a raised eyebrow daring me to argue. I don’t even shrug. I’ll never live that one down and I’m not willing to try. Seeing that she’s not going to get a rise out of me, she continues, “Jimmy Don said that you have a little tribute concert at your old school next week. Kind of a ‘thank you’ to the community for all of your support and all that.” “Yeah, he set it up a while back.” I had forgotten about it. It sounded like a good idea at the time, now it sounds awful. Going back to the school where Jenny and I were crowned prom king and queen, singing from the football field where I played as people sit in the bleachers that Jenny let me get to first, second, and third bases with her. The school where her brother is now a teacher. I haven’t seen any of them since her service. Not looking forward to it now either. “It’s actually perfect,” she says, bringing me from my inner turmoil. “How’s that?” “You need this good press. Doing something for the community like this will hopefully outshine your less than stellar moments here lately. “Will you be there for that?” I don’t know that I want her there or not. Part of me wants her around because she’s pretty as hell to look at. But another part of me feels guilty bringing her to the place that’s filled with so much of my and Jenny’s history. Like I’m tainting Jenny’s memory…again.

“No. Jimmy Don is going to be there with you.” “Is this how it’s going to be? A shadow everywhere I go? Because I could have stayed with Glenn Co. for that shit.” Her pen bounces on her desk in irritation. “Actually, no, you couldn’t have because they released you from your contract. So you can just save that BS for someone else. You’ll have a ‘shadow’ for as long as we think you need one, I guess.” I shake my head angrily. “I don’t need my ass ridden by some—” “Careful, Beau,” she interrupts with a warning look, stopping me from saying whatever I was going to. “Listen, I don’t like it anymore than you do, honestly, but it’s what we think is best for everyone right now, just to make sure that we protect you and us. Once there are a few positive stories posted about you, I think we’ll be able to drop the whole thing and just have you make some appearances every now and again without me tagging along. Just think about it as support from your new label.” I hear what’s she’s saying, take it all in, and know that they’re probably right. I just don’t like the feeling that I’m being herded like cattle to do their bidding. “You know they’re going to think that we’re fucking,” I say bluntly, making her blink rapidly. “They can think what they want, but I highly doubt they’re going to come to that conclusion just from seeing us together at a few events.” I raise my brows. “You shittin’ me right now? This is your job. You know how the industry works.” I huff out a sardonic laugh. “You honestly think they’re gonna see me with a beautiful woman on more than one occasion and not assume I’m sleeping with her?” I can tell that she did in fact think that. “Sugar, they’ll have us fucking and married with a kid on the way before all this is over.” Addy wrinkles her nose at me. “Do you have to be so damn crude?” She’s not really upset about my language, she’s pissed that this thought never occurred to her. “The whole world is gonna think you fell for country music’s bad boy. How do you feel about that, Sugar?” “Stop calling me ‘Sugar,’” she snips. “Not a chance,” I drawl, grinning smugly. All of a sudden this whole situation doesn’t seem half as bad as it did before. I for damn sure don’t want a girlfriend, but I might could be convinced to spend some time with Addy, letting the tabloids think what they will. Especially if it gets everyone off my back and maybe even her into my bed. I’m not looking to change her name or anything, but Addy with her smokin’ little body and all that fire? Yeah, I’ll take whatever she offers. I just have to convince her to give me more than her time. “You don’t have a boyfriend do you, Addy? Because if you do, you might want to break up with him. There’s not a relationship on the planet that will survive all the juicy things the rag mags are gonna to be sayin’ about us.” I lean back in my chair and smile. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Don’t want one either, pretend or otherwise.” She hits me

with a pointed look. The color in her cheeks showing just how fired up this has her. “Good, good. Now that we know where we stand on that, reckon we don’t have to have some awkward talk after we’re already naked in bed.” “We’re not gonna be naked in bed, Beau.” “We can be naked wherever your little heart desires, Sugar.” She all but growls. “I’m technically your boss, you know that, right? And don’t call me, Sugar.” If she were standing I think she would have stomped her foot. “I’ll let you boss me around all you want…Sugar.” I throw as much cowboy on that one word as I can. Knowing it’ll either make her soften up or cause steam to shoot straight from her ears. By the look on her face, she might skip the steam and just detonate. Addy raises her toned arm, bare except for a pretty bracelet and points at the door. “Out.” She closes her eyes and repeats, “Out. Out. Out,” flicking her wrist to punctuate every one of those “outs.” With a low rumbling laugh, I stand, stuff my hands into my pockets, and stroll out loose-limbed and slow, whistling all the way. I should move faster— she’s likely to throw something at my ass if her cussing is any indication. At the door I turn and smile. “Call me and let me know when our first date is. Maybe I’ll take you to church.”

10

ADDY

J

uggling my purse, laptop bag, and stupidly large sweet tea all while trying to hit the button to unlock my Jeep is a sight to behold, I’m sure. With everything dumped onto the front seat and myself hoisted up behind the wheel, my phone dings. Digging it out of my purse, I swipe my thumb across the screen to light it up. There’s an email notification from my friend Layla James. “Yes. Perfect timing,” I say to the empty SUV as I fire it up. I called her last week to help me out with some ideas and maybe some connections for Beau to create some good press. Something a little outside the box. She runs a blog and seems to have some superpower for knowing what will blow up next, so I know she’ll have some fresh ideas for me. Even though the couple things I already have lined up are great, a little outside perspective never hurts. Tossing the phone aside, I put my blinker on and pull into traffic. I have to meet Beau at the studio so we can go over his schedule. I would love nothing more than to avoid him for the next little while, but I don’t have that luxury. I’m still kind of pissed at myself that I didn’t take into consideration that the tabloids would link us. So stupid. It’s my damn job. I think I knew and just tucked it away so I didn’t have to think about it. I called Judge about thirty seconds after I kicked Beau out of my office and asked him if he thought they would, and he laughed long and hard until I hung up on his ass. I’m surrounded by asses. I make it to the studio space we own in under five minutes. We tried getting space in the same building as the offices, but had to settle for this, and maybe having a little distance isn’t the worst thing. Once in the underground parking garage, I juggle everything back out of the Jeep and into the elevator. The moment the doors slide open, I hear a woman’s laugh. Confused, I strain to hear as I move toward the sound, but the damn acoustics in the place are so good both in and out of the sound booths, I can’t really hear a damn thing, just muffled voices and another laugh. I can hear the flirtation in this one. It’s practically dripping from it. Coming into the reception area from the hall I see Beau kicked back in one of the deep purple armchairs arranged near the picture window of the booth. Jean-clad legs planted wide in that manspread thing guys do, there’s a woman I’ve never seen before perched on the arm of his chair, draped over the back, toying with the hair at his nape. Beau’s certainly not discouraging her, grinning up at her like a fool as she whispers in his ear.

The woman startles when I clear my throat. I watch as Beau places a hand on her back to steady her, his eyes on me, that stupid grin of his not slipping. “You’re late,” he says, making no move to stand, his large hand falling to the trim waist of the girl still happily sitting beside him. You would think that she would look a little more uncertain not knowing who the hell I am. I could be his wife for mercy’s sake. Thank the Lord I’m not, but I could be. The thought that that doesn’t even bother her or cross her mind makes me madder than it should. She doesn’t even bat an eye or say anything, just looks at me and waits. “I left you a message. I assumed when you didn’t answer that you were in the studio… working.” I flick my eyes to the woman. I’ve about had it with her just there, blinking at me. “Who are you?” “Amie.” I raise my brows in question. “I’m new.” “You’re fired.” “Now, Sugar-–” I pin him with a look that dares him to undermine me. He holds up his hands, finally taking his hand from her waist and doesn’t say a word. This has nothing to do with him and everything to do with her and the way she has conducted herself with a client. Well, almost nothing to do with him. Amie just looks at me, mouth hanging open. “But—” “We’ll mail you your check. You can leave the keys on the desk.” Without another word, I stride past them and into the studio to greet Gus, the guy who works the boards. “Who hired her?” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder, not bothering to see what those two are up to now that I’ve left them alone again. “Amie? The agency sent her over last week when Nelle called them for a temp.” I nod and place my sweet tea down and dial Nelle, leaving a message for her when I get the voice mail. “It’s Addy. Get another temp for the studio. I had to let this one go.” Just as I’m hanging up I add, “Preferably a man.” Gus is watching me with raised brows and a knowing smirk. “What?” “Nothing at all, Addy.” Smart man. “How’d the session go?” “The session went great,” Beau says from the open door. “Did you really need to fire that poor girl?” Gus chooses that moment to excuse himself. “I’m done for the day here, you mind locking up?” I wave him off letting him know I will. When he closes the door behind him Beau repeats himself.

“Did you have to fire her?” “As a matter of fact, I did. That’s not how we conduct business here. This is a recording studio, not a brothel. You might want to make note of that yourself.” Finished with this conversation, I sit at the table and pull out my laptop, ready to get to work. “A brothel? Seriously? We were just talking, Addy Mae. No need to get your panties all in a twist.” “I would have to be wearing them to have them in a twist,” I shoot back without thinking. You can’t say things like that in front of a guy like Beau. He proves it in the very next breath. “I don’t think I believe that. Dare you to show me.” I don’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling. I can hear it in his voice. “I’m not showing you the goodies, Beau.” Doing my best to keep my tone bored I pull up the calendar on my laptop. “I double dog dare you. You know you can’t turn down a double dog dare, Addy,” he teases. “Not gonna happen. You can’t dare your way under my skirt. I’m much harder to get than the women you’re used to.” With a smirk of my own over that little dig, I look up at him. That’s a mistake. His eyes are full of heat, wolfish. Like I’m Little Red Riding Hood and it’s about to go down. “I know. That’s what I like about you.” Beau steps further into the room. “Why’d you fire that girl?” He doesn’t even know her name. I don’t know if I like that or hate it. “I told you why.” “That was a lie. I want you to tell me the real reason, Sugar.” His drawl has a way of making the word sexy and just a little bit condescending all at the same time. Or maybe it’s just him. “It wasn’t. We can’t have our receptionists in the laps of our clients. It’s unprofessional.” One more step and he’s standing right across from me, his scent of leather and something fresh luring me in. This. This right here is why I’ve been trying to keep my distance. He makes me stupid. He smiles, talks to me all slow and sexy, and I melt. I’m no better than the girl I just fired. I’ve barely spent any really time with him, and already I’m affected. In a big way. “That’s a reason all right, but it isn’t the reason. You fired her because she was on my lap.” He places his palms on the table between us and leans down so we’re eye level. “Admit it.” “Why? Why do you want me to admit it? What happens then? You lay me down on the table here and dare me some more.” I huff out an exasperated breath and look away to gather my nerve and resolve. Bringing my eyes back to his, I sigh. “I can’t do this with you, Beau.” “Do what? Talk? This is hardly foreplay, Sugar.” He chuckles. “But it might as well be.”

“Just say that you like me. You try to act like you don’t, but you do. I saw it in the way yours eyes flashed fire when you walked in. I heard it in your twang when you gave her what for.” Beau catches his bottom lip between his teeth and smiles. “When you’re mad, your Texan is turned way up. All sassy and Southern.” He’s enjoying this. Fucker. I groan out. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t like you. I do. But I get attached to things…people…easily. I don’t want to get attached to you. I’m not saying that I am, but it wouldn’t be hard. And you goin’ around being all sexy and talking sweet and then add to that all the time we’re gonna be spending together basically pretending to be together, and I’m in trouble. I don’t want to be in trouble.” That was way more than I planned on saying, dammit. He’s got me rambling like a damn tumbleweed in a dust storm. “You think I’m sexy?” “Beau—” Straddling the chair, he lets his hands dangle over the back, drawing my attention. “Addy, you won’t get attached to me. I won’t let you.” His face has gone from playful and flirty to somber and deprecating. “I won’t let you get attached to me. I’ve seen what happens to good girls when that happens. I’m not the kind you get attached to because I’m not the man you’ll bring home to meet daddy. Not my thing.” I don’t know why that makes me feel more sad than relieved, but it does. He must still be really hurting over Jenny. “Not your thing anymore,” I prompt. “Nah.” He shakes his head. “Never was.” That leaves me more confused than anything. Determined to change the subject though, I turn my laptop around so he can see the calendar I’ve pulled up. I don’t want to talk about all the ways I can let him get to me or hurt for him because of the pain he’s carrying around. Best to focus on work. Work is safe. “So. I’ve got a couple things for this week and the next and then the benefit concert is after that.” I use the trackpad on the computer and scroll over to tomorrow. “I know it’s short notice but this will be a simple dinner for a local foundation that Stone and Willow contribute to. The charity raises money to help get more music therapy programs into schools. We’re going to be attending in their place.” “Okay. Not that I don’t like to do charitable things, but how is that going to generate good press.” “It’s by invite only, ten thousand dollars a plate. The press is interested in who is shelling out that kind of money. Wear a suit.” A low whistle slips from between his teeth. Not waiting for him to agree or disagree, I move on to the one I’m most excited about. “One of my contacts called me the other day with this and it’s perfect. They’re doing a ‘barn raising’ of sorts.” He lifts his brows in question, a little like I might be crazy. “Every year they choose a family in the community to build a house for. From the ground up, completely free. This year’s family is from my daddy’s church. A couple who lost everything in a tragic house fire a year ago. They’re

expecting their first baby in a couple months, so we’re going to build them a place to come home to. The news crews will be there the whole time, and it’s sponsored by Country All Day radio. My friend called to see if I had anyone to join me.” I’m practically bouncing in my seat over how perfect this is for him. He nods approvingly. “I’m in. Can I bring my brother?” “Of course! I’ll put his name on the list. We have to be at the site by six that morning, work starts at about seven or eight.” I make a note to add Sealy. “You’re gonna come out there that early?” I stop typing and look up at him. “Of course. I help out with the build every year.” He cocks his head, a dubious look on his handsome face. “You work with tools?” “Ummm, yeah. What, because I’m a girl I can’t get dirty? Well, I hate to tell you this, Beau, but I’m real good at getting dirty,” I tell him smugly. Then it sinks in. Shit. That didn’t come out right. The damage is already done though. I just wait for the fallout as he runs a hand over the dark stubble covering his chin. His hazel eyes alight with mischief. “That right?” Beau drawls out slowly. I fight the smile flirting over my lips and roll my eyes, not bothering to give him the satisfaction of an answer. There’s nothing I can say. I walked right into that one and left myself wide open. “When you put it that way, how can I say no? I would love to get dirty with you, Sugar.” The smirk he flashes is pure sex. And sin. And trouble. And just all the things I love and shouldn’t. I can almost feel the invisible lasso falling over my head and dragging me Beau’s way.

11

BEAU

ama!” The back door claps closed behind me as Shep leads the way into the “M kitchen. “Boy, stop yellin’,” my mom shouts from the sink, making me laugh. “I will if you will,” I tease. “Look at you. So handsome.” She cups a hand to my bristled cheek. “Thanks, Mama. Can you help me with this fu—darn tie,” I amend when she gives me the stink eye. “Course, baby. Where are you going all spiffed up?” Winding the red and black plaid tie around my neck, she hums softly. “I have a charity dinner to go to with Addy Mae.” Her hands still for just a beat. “Oh. I thought she was your boss or something.” She’s not fooling me. “I guess she is. She’s also gonna be attendin’ all kinds of things like this with me though. Better get used to it, woman,” I chide with a teasing grin. “It’s just so soon is all.” The worry in her tone is mirrored on her face. “Soon for what? We’re not together. But even if we were, I’d expect you to welcome her the way you did Jenny.” She takes a step back and shakes her head. “She was like a daughter to me. There will never be anybody able to fill her shoes.” “Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” I say frustrated with her. All over nothing really, since I have no plans to bring anyone home. “Now, Beau, you can’t be mad at me for loving that girl. You brought her into this family—” “And you kept her here,” I interrupt testily. The doorbell rings, saving us from saying any more. “That’s my ride. See you in the mornin’.” I press a swift kiss to her cheek and stride out the door. My good mood all but gone after the talk with my mama. The drive to Addy’s apartment is done in complete silence, the driver Jimmy hired not pushing for conversation. He did point out the convenient bar set up in the back of the limo though. Pouring a tumbler of bourbon, I toss it back and savor the burn as the alcohol

settles in my stomach. The little fight with my mother eats at me. One of the reasons I’ve stayed away is because I don’t want to talk about Jenny. About that night. I don’t want to take any trips down memory lane or have them all look at me in pity. None of it. I don’t deserve it, don’t want it. Why can’t they all just leave well enough alone? Bringing her up all the time isn’t going to change the fact that she’s gone. I wish it would. But it won’t. I’ve done my best to forget that she’s gone, instead convincing myself in some morbid way she’s just not speaking to me…again. I’m doing my best to forget what happened, push it all aside and bury it with whatever I need to. It hasn’t necessarily worked, but up until now I’m the only one who noticed. Now I’m surrounded by people who cared about her and our past which they feel compelled to help me keep remembering. Frustrated with my current mood and my mother for helping me into it, I try to shake it off. Instead focusing on the night ahead. Careful not to spill as the car navigates traffic, I pour another glass and sip this one as I watch the country hills give way to the lights of the city outside the tinted windows. We pull to a stop in front of a swanky building right on the water just a short time later. “Should I circle?” the driver asks. Just as I’m about to say yes I see her. She’s standing in front of the glass doors talking to an older gentleman, gesturing animatedly with a skinny red purse as her prop. Her hair is knotted to the side, just below her ear. A sexy black dress with little sleeves and a double skirt that falls just above her knees. Slowly my gaze follows the path of her legs to her bright red heels. Must be the reason she asked what color tie I was wearing. My gaze is drawn to a simple bird tattoo on the top of her foot, the urge to trace it with my mouth strong. “I’ll be right back,” I mumble as I step from the car, folding a stick of cinnamon gum into my mouth as I do. The second my feet hit the pavement, she catches sight of me and turns back to the man. “Hot fucking damn,” I mutter. Her back is completely bare. Tan and toned, I’ve never considered backs to be sexy until this moment. The top of her dress is held in place by a bow. A bow that would take only one good tug to undo. I find myself wondering if the dress would pool to the floor as soon as I got that bow untied. Aware of people around us pointing and taking their phones out to snap pictures, I step forward and take her arm to get her attention. “We gotta get goin’, Sugar. You messed around and caught some attention looking as hot as you do.” I wink at her in appreciation. Addy smiles in thanks and then glances around us. “Oh, wow. When did that happen?” I lean into her side and put my lips to her ear. “I reckon it happened when you turned around and they got a look at your back.” My hand settles on the small of said ridiculously sexy back and I have to stop myself from sliding my palm into the side of her dress and down over her ass. Or maybe even dip into the front of her panties. Fuck. All that from a bare back. Frustrated, I open the door, waving the driver away when he moves to do it. Addy and I slide in, and he shoots off to the hotel where the dinner is being held. “You clean up nice, Beau,” Addy says, reaching out to straighten my already straight

tie. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a hat. I like it.” The smile she hits me with is sweet and sexy, just like her. It makes me wanna write a song. A song about her and her smile. I better be careful or I’ll be the one getting attached. Smoothing a hand over my hair, I grin and can’t help but tease her. “You think you’ll be able to keep your hands off me? I gotta tell you, one of us is gonna have to show some restraint tonight, and with you lookin’ the way you do, it’s probably gonna be up to you.” The pretty blush that creeps over her cheeks just adds to her sex appeal. Wonder what it would take to keep it there all night. I’m willing to try. “Thank you. And yes, I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself, Beau.” “We’ll see, Sugar. We’ll see.” Addy sits back in her seat, crossing her legs and drawing my attention. I’d be lying if I told you I’m not trying to catch a glimpse of what she may or may not have on under her dress. I know for damn sure she’s not wearing a bra. Much more relaxed than I was on the way here, I lean back and move my whiskey glass to the cup holder on the bar. “You want a drink?” “No, thank you.” I wait for her to mention the fact that I’ve obviously had one. She never does. Doesn’t even look at me in that quietly disapproving way women have. I sink further into the seat as relief takes the place of the tension bunching up in my shoulders. I don’t want to always be on guard with her. Now that I see this whole situation in a different light I’m looking forward to spending time with Addy, but not if she’s gonna ride my ass the whole time. “So are these people going to be upset that they’re getting little ol’ me and not Stone Lockhart?” Hell, if it were me, I’d probably be pissed. She chuckles softly. “Upset? No. Worried? Probably just a little.” Nudging the toe of my shoe with hers, she grins wider, “The director is actually a really big fan and excited to meet you. I don’t think she knows a single song that Stone sings.” “I doubt that.” “No honest. She’s more of a Willow fan than a Stone fan. Willow has done a ton for them over the last year.” “What can I expect when we get there? Is there like a red carpet or something?” “Not at this one so much. There will be members of the press attending though. Brings in more awareness. Plus like I said, they love to write about all the movers and shakers and big money folks in there paying the big bucks for their seats.” We slow to merge into the long line of limos entering the hotel. “We could have walked here from my place.” “Well, I’m no Luke Bryan, but I do get recognized from time to time. Mighta been hard to get here before the dinner was over.” “You’re right. I’m sorry. I forget you’re not a normal guy.” My brows rise, a grin teasing across my lips. I can’t wait to see her talk her way out of this one. “Oh shit. That’s not what I meant. Not that you’re not normal, because you are, but not really.” Shaking her head, she puffs out a breath and grabs the drink I set aside, downing it in one shot. It

must go down smooth because she pours another, and that one follows the first. “You okay, Sugar?” There’s laughter in my voice as I watch her. Hell, maybe she’s the one who needs the babysitter. “I’m fine. These things just make me nervous is all.” “Dinners make you nervous?” “It’s not just a dinner. There are probably going to be somewhere around five hundred people here tonight. And I’m with you which means they’ll see me and pay attention to me. I’m not used to all that. I’m the girl in the background making sure everything runs smoothly, giving people hell when they’re not. I’m not a spotlight girl. It just doesn’t suit me. Or I don’t suit it.” The whole time she talks, her eyes are glued to the lights over the lake. Hands gripping her bag so tight her knuckles are turning white. “Hey. Sugar. Look at me.” I lean across the space separating us, and when she doesn’t look at me right away, I slide into the seat beside her. My arm along the back of the bench, I hook her chin in my other hand and pull her to look at me. “You can be whatever you need. You suit more than you think. You’re strong and smart and sexy.” I run the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip wanting so badly to have a taste of Miss Addy Mae Masterson. “You took on my mama and lived to talk about it. You can handle this.” She’s watching me without blinking, her eyes on my mouth. It’s killing me. She’s killing me. With her sweet smelling skin, the feel of her slender shoulder pressed into me, and her hazel eyes heavy and full of the same want coursing through me right now, all more than I’ve ever been able to resist. For once in my life, I have nothing to hold back for. No guilt to have me regretting my actions. And yet I don’t give in. Not like I want to at least. Dropping my hand from her face, I move forward, not able to contain the smirk when she sucks in a breath and holds it, and press a kiss to her cheek, just shy of her pink painted lips. Close enough to tease the hell out of both of us and leave us aching for more. “Now come on, Sugar. Let’s go so you can make me look good.”

A

ddy was right about one thing—actually a few things. It isn’t just a dinner. The press is everywhere and they are very interested that we are there together. And the charity head, Lauren Ryan, is a huge fan. “Beau, I was so thrilled when Willow called to say that you would be here. I was sad that she and Stone couldn’t make it, but she more than made up for it with you.” Lauren goes on, “I am so very sorry to hear about your sweet fiancé, Jenny. I read about it in Exposé Magazine, well, everywhere actually. Such a tragedy.” My hand tightens around Addy’s much smaller one. The urge to yank her away in every muscle fiber. Not for nothing, but every time someone mentions Jenny while I’m standing beside Addy feels like a slap in the face to her and makes me madder than hell on her behalf. I know that she’s here with me because she has to be, not because we’re together, but damn.

“Thank you. I’ve been eager to get Addy Mae out on the dance floor, if y’all could excuse us.” Giving a slight nod, I pull Addy into me and lead us toward the band and the dancing couples there. “I’m sorry about that. They shouldn’t be bringin’ her up with you standing there beside me.” “It’s okay, Beau. I know what a big part of your life she was. Your mama told me.” She gives me a smile. “And these people just want to feel like they know you. About your life. Especially your private life. That’s how it works.” I grunt in return. Knowing she’s right and still not liking it. “You two-step?” “What kind of question is that? Course I two-step.” Her laugh mingles with the fiddle from the stage. “In those heels? Watch out now!” I tease as I spin her wide then into my arms when the band starts up a cover of “Dirt on My Boots.” “I can’t sing to save my life, but I’ve got moves you ain’t never seen before, Beau McCrae.” “Is that right?” I ask in a slow drawl, catching her around the waist and pulling her so that we’re flush. “We’ll just see about that, Sugar.” I begin moving us with the rest of the people on the dance floor. Falling into rhythm with Addy is easy. It takes us two beats to move as one. Slow slow, quick quick. Our thighs brushing with every step. “You ready?” The second she nods, I take her hand from my shoulder and spin her under my arm and back. She ducks and follows seamlessly. She wasn’t kidding, she’s got moves. Addy grins an “I told you so” grin and follows my lead into another set of turns and spins. There are more and more people gathered around us as I push her around the dance floor with elaborate dips and lifts to go with all the spinning, and Addy stays with my every step, never faltering. For someone that doesn’t like to be the center of attention, she just danced her way right into the spotlight. The band sings the final chorus and I dip her nearly to the floor, my hand hooked behind her knee pulling her leg high and tight against me. I gaze down at her, a smirk on my face brought on by the wide smile, flushed skin, and panting breaths of the woman in my arms. She looks freshly fucked. The thought that this is what Addy Mae looks like after a roll in the hay has me hardening against her. Placing her upright before she can feel it, I gesture for her to take a bow. With a small curtsy, she turns into me and hides her embarrassment by burying her head against my chest. At that moment, the band starts to sing one of my songs. A slow song from my first album. The lead singer indicates for me to come up there. I shake my head no and place a hand to Addy’s bare back. Immediately she moves with me. “Isn’t this your song? Is that awkward?” She pulls back just far enough to look up at me.

I groan, “It is. Just don’t stop dancing. He wants me to get up there and sing.” “Don’t you wanna?” “I just want to be here with you right now.” I’m not sure why I said that. I realize that I mean it though. Addy doesn’t question me. Just nods and rests her hand on my shoulder as I trail my fingers up and down her spine. It’s intimate and familiar. More so than it should be. Than I should be with her, really. But I can’t find it in me to care much. I like touching her and until she tells me to stop, I’m gonna keep on touching her.

12

ADDY

T

he ride from the hotel to my apartment is such a waste of a good limo. By the looks of it, it’s going to take us longer to get out of the parking lot than it is to get to my place. Without a doubt the shortest car ride I’ve ever been on. “That was pretty tame for you, huh?” Turning my gaze away from the limos and town cars lined up trying to get out I find him smiling at me. He really is ridiculously hot. His dark brown hair is longish on top and combed to the side with a bit of a wave. His black suit with the black dress shirt and the tie made to look like red and black flannel is the most masculine thing I’ve ever seen in my life. The moment we got in the car tonight, I couldn’t help myself and had to touch it. “Tame?” “Yeah, tame. There were no half-naked girls throwing themselves at you or loud and obnoxious drunken people.” I’m referring to one of the stories Exposé had posted about him just a couple months ago. “Now don’t go believing everything you read in those magazines, Sugar.” His grin is so Beau. Mischief and heat with way too much bad boy mixed up with a whole lot of country. It should be illegal. That smirk alone will impregnate someone. I’m sure of it. Shaking off that thought I raise my hands, palms up. “Just callin’ ‘em like I see ‘em.” “We’ve spent some time together lately…other than my mama, what woman have you seen me with? Talkin’ to?” “What’s-her-face that I fired.” I look at him pointedly, pissy all over again. “She doesn’t count, Sugar.” He laughs. I think he likes that I fired her out of what we both know was jealousy. “The hell she doesn’t, Beau.” “Okay, fine. Other than her?” His tone is daring. “We haven’t spent all that much time together, and I don’t know what you’re doing in your free time,” I huff out. “Not a damn thing other than working the ranch with my brother and dad. Wanna help me fix that, Sug?” “Oh, now we’re going to nickname a nickname?” I pretend to dislike that he calls me

“Sugar” or the now-shortened form of it, but I don’t. I’ve never been called anything other than “Darlin’” by a man friend or other. I won’t be telling Beau that anytime soon, but it’s true. He shrugs. “You didn’t answer my question.” There’s a reason. Because the answer is yes. I want to fix that for him. I have myself convinced that the other day when I told him that I didn’t actually dislike him that something changed. Like we’re kind of an us, only not. But kind of. And this is where the whole I-get-too-attached comes in. Groaning inwardly, I school my features. “The only thing I’m helping with is to keep you out of trouble.” “I’d rather be getting into trouble with you.” His twang shouldn’t be sexy. I hear it all day. But it is. It’s different. Like his grin, it’s all Beau. And Beau is nothing but trouble. Sexy trouble with a drawl. Neither one of us even realizes we’ve arrived at my apartment until my door is being opened by the doorman. Before I can react, he’s getting out of the limo and holding out a hand for me to take. I hesitate because I know how his touch makes me feel. Hell, he’s lucky we had an audience out on the dance floor. Every time he ran his fingers up my spine, I wanted to wrap myself around him. Knowing there’s no getting around it, I place my hand in his roughened one and let him pull me gently from the low-slung car. I’m just about to thank him for a nice time and dash into my building and away from him when he entwines our fingers and leads us into the high-rise. Panicked, I blurt, “You are not coming up there with me.” Is that my voice? “Calm down, Sugar. I’m just walking you in. My mama raised me to be a nice Southern boy, mindful of his manners.” He leans in and whispers against my ear, his breath warm, his mouth brushing the sensitive area, “Unless you want to see how bad I can be?” The words fall from his lips, just dripping in sin. “I’ve seen how bad you can be,” I chastise as sternly as my breathy voice will allow. “Oh, you haven’t seen nothin’ yet, Miss Addy Mae. Not a damn thing.” He nods to George, the night security guard who holds the door for us to enter. We make it to the elevators, him like he’s been here a dozen times before and me damn near in a trance. The man has no clue what he does to me. That’s a lie. He knows. It takes me a second to realize he’s waiting for me since the elevator has no buttons but a key swipe. Fumbling with my pocket book, I take out my key card and swipe, the doors immediately swooshing open. Beau walks forward, guiding me into the mirrored car. I pivot so that I’m facing him. He has one arm extended above him, holding onto the doorframe. The fitted sleeves of his suit bunching and straining against the muscles underneath. I watch as he reaches for me, the scorching warmth of his palm like a brand on my nape, his hazel eyes shot through with green and blue and want and heat as they roam over my face. With a look, he has my heart racing, my breath hitching, and a dampness setting fire to my inner thighs. Slowly, eyes open, pinning me to the spot, he leans into my space. I sway toward his heat and Beau McCrae kisses me…on the cheek. Again. This time not quite as close to my mouth as the first time. I nearly growl in frustration when he straightens and smirks knowingly, taking a step back as the doors slide

closed. “Hot damn,” I murmur to the quiet, sexually charged elevator. “Hot fucking damn.” carlet, I don’t know what you’re doing awake, but I can’t talk. I have five minutes “S to get my behind out of the house.” I spin in a circle looking for my other gym shoe. “I haven’t talked to you since the other day when you had a hot date with Mister Sexy Singing Cowboy Guy,” she says on a yawn. “His name is Beau, and it wasn’t a date.” Spotting the shoe and slipping it on, I snatch my Arrows baseball cap off the hook and settle it on my head over my braided pigtails. “Whatever, tell me everything.” “There’s nothing to tell. We went to the dinner, we danced some, and then he dropped me off at home.” I stop next to my coffee pot, pouring a huge travel mug knowing she’s never going to drop this. “And he kissed me. Twice. On the damn cheek.” Scar lets out a whoop but it’s short-lived. “Say what now?” “On the cheek. Two times. Once in the limo and once when he walked me to the elevator at the end of the night.” “Did you wear the black dress I told you too? And the red heels?” She sounds so confused. Poor thing. “I did. And he liked them both. Told me so a couple times.” After blowing on the hot brew, I take a sip. “That doesn’t make any sense. That dress screamed ‘fuck me.’ You should have been thrown up against the wall at the end of the night.” A deep sigh slips out, muffled by the coffee I’m trying to burn my damn mouth off with. “I’m pretty sure I would have let him, Scar. I’m way out of my league with him. He’s fancy.” I giggle just saying that out loud. “I don’t even know what that means, Addy.” “It just means that I don’t need to get involved with a…a…super star. I might be best friends with famous people and work with them on a daily basis, but I don’t need to be getting involved with one. He’s kind of a big deal.” “Why the hell does that matter? You’re a big deal. Now shut up and tell me what happened?” “I did. He gave me a pep talk in the limo because I was nervous about going into the dinner and he kissed me on the cheek. Then again when he walked me to the elevator. I thought for sure he was going to kiss me. Really kiss me. And then he didn’t. Just kissed me on the cheek, and swoosh, he was gone.” My insides are tingling at the memory of that very brief, very hot, and super frustrating moment. I’m brought back to the present when I hear Scarlet laughing on the other end of the line. “Oh, he’s good. He’s got you right where he wants you. Better ask your daddy to say

a prayer for you. You’re about to do a whole lot of sinning in a big way.” “You’re not even funny. I’m hanging up. I have to pick up him and his brother before I go to the build site.” “Ohhhh, a brother? Is he hot?” She’s impossible. “He is.” “Beau hot or just normal guy hot? It always seems like one brother is way hotter than the other, like all the hot got used up on one of them and there’s not enough left over for the other. Well, except with Law and Judge. They’re equally hot, just differently,” she prattles on thoughtfully. Laughing, I interrupt. “Bye, Scar.” I don’t give her a chance to respond. I can’t if I ever want to get out of here. Sliding my earbuds in, I turn on the podcast I had been listening to and toss the phone in my purse. On my way out, I remember to grab the cooler bag I packed the night before with snacks and drinks for me and the McCrae boys. I’ve just made it to the parking garage when my phone starts ringing. Pressing the button on my headphones to answer the call, I sigh in exasperation. “Scarlet, I swear. Yes, okay. Yes, they’re equally hot. I’m spending the day with two ridiculously hot men, but I only want to see one of them naked, so there’s that. Happy now?” “Only if I’m the one you want to see naked?” Beau’s smooth drawl filters over the line. Oh. My. God. You have got to be kidding me. “Sugar? You still there?” He’s not laughing, but I can hear it in his voice. “Sorry. I thought you were Scarlet,” I say as nonchalantly as I can, my embarrassment hot across my cheeks. “So, am I the one you want to see naked? Or should I be jealous of my little brother? I can totally kick his ass, you know.” “How do you know I was even talking about you two? Conceited much, Beau?” I snort out a laugh. Please Lord let him believe me. “Oh? So you’re spending the day with two other hot guys?” “Did you need something, Beau?” This time he doesn’t bother to hide his laughter. “Just checking to make sure you were awake and to see if you were still picking us up, Sug.” “I’m on my way now.” “We’ll be up at the main house, see you soon.” He disconnects and I’m left leaning against my Jeep wanting to just head back upstairs to crawl into my bed and stay there for the next three years. Knowing that I can’t do that, I stow the cooler and hop in. I’m just turning onto the road when my phone chirps again. “Lord have mercy, is the whole world awake?” I mutter as I check the caller ID this time. I’m not making that mistake again. “Hey, Daddy. Everything okay?”

“Mornin’ sweetheart. Everything is fine. Is there any way that you can pick up a load of lumber over at Riley’s on your way out here? He was supposed to have it delivered but his boy is under the weather. It’s not a big load.” “I won’t be able to get it into my Jeep, but I’m sure we can bring Beau’s truck instead.” “I don’t want to put you out. I can make some calls—” “No, it’s okay. Let them know we’ll grab it.” “That’s my girl. Thank you, Addy Mae. Bye.” “Bye, Daddy.” Once I hang up with him, I give up on my marketing podcast and flip on the radio. Beau’s song is playing. There’s no way around it, the man is everywhere. Invading my life without even trying. Admitting defeat, I roll the windows down and turn the volume up. Singing loud enough to wake the cows in the fields along the road.

13

BEAU

I

’m on the porch sipping the coffee mama just brought out for Sealy and I, quietly thinking about how I missed being home. We’ve just finished the morning chores with the new hands my dad hired. I’m hoping having me and my brother here for this little while will show my dad how nice it would be to slow down a bit. He can afford to hire more help if he needs to. Stubborn bastard likes to work though. “Remind me again what we’re doing today?” Sealy asks on a yawn. “Building a house for a couple who lost theirs last year. Paper and radio will be there. Maybe they’ll mention your ugly mug helping out. You can use the good press as much as me.” I grin and take a sip from my mug. “Don’t you go lumpin’ me with you. I’m not ‘country music’s bad boy,’” he mocks. “No. But you’re no angel on the rodeo circuit either. It’s not my fault that bull riders aren’t as popular in the rag mags as country music royalty.” Teasing my brother is almost as fun as teasing Addy. “Country music royalty? Boy, you go and get kicked in the head by a horse when I wasn’t looking? You think you’re George Strait or somethin’?” Grinning at his ruffled feathers, I slip on my sunglasses, even though the sun isn’t quite up yet, kick back in my chair, and hum George’s “The Fireman.” When he flips me off, we both burst into laughter. Mama comes out on the porch smiling. “What are you boys gettin’ on about out here? Not that I mind, I’ve missed having you two home.” “Beau’s over here thinkin’ he’s George Strait.” “Well, son, I love you, but there can only be one King of Country,” she says apologetically. Sealy damn near falls off his rocking chair laughing at the epic burn my mama just dished out. “I’ll be sure to tell him that next time he calls me.” Truth be told I’ve met him only a handful of times at award shows. They don’t have to know that though. Just then Sealy stands and points. “Looks like your girl is here to save your ass from

telling any more stories to your mama.” “Watch your mouth, Sealy Wayne McCrae,” She murmurs halfheartedly, her features pinched as she watches Addy’s Jeep come up the gravel drive. I don’t bother to correct Sealy about Addy being my girl. I’m not sure why. “Mornin’ y’all,” she calls out as she climbs the steps to us. “Mrs. McCrae.” She smiles sweetly at my mama, probably hoping that it’ll help. It does not. “Mornin’, Addy. Nice to see you again,” she lies with a barely-there smile before going back into the house. Might as well just throw a “bless your heart” at Addy and walk away. Everyone knows that it’s a Southern woman’s way of saying all the nasty things she would never dare utter in the presence of company. “Well, look at you. You sure do look pretty.” Sealy looks over at me. “Doesn’t she, Beau?” my troublemaker little brother says, knowing that our mother is listening to every word from the other side of the screen door. “She always does.” And she does. Today she looks just as hot in her paint splattered jean shorts, tank top, and baseball cap with her hair in two long braids, as she did the other night in her little black dress and high-heeled shoes. I meant it when I told her she suits more than she knows. This Addy is no different from that Addy or any other she needs to be. She’s always true to herself, and that is sexy as all hell. My mama clears her throat and comes back out to the porch carrying a couple thermoses And a plate of fresh baked biscuit sandwiches. “I thought y’all would be hungry so I made breakfast to take with. There’s enough for all three of you.” Pecking us both on the cheek as she hands off the treats, she waves at Addy and goes back inside. Maybe she’s trying. “You ready, Sugar?” “Yes. But is there any way we can take your truck? My daddy called and asked if we could pick up some lumber on our way.” “Course we can.” “Great. I’ll get the cooler and meet you. “ Sealy pokes his head inside to let mama know that we’re leaving Addy’s vehicle behind and we set off to my truck. “You sure you don’t mind getting this thing dirty?” my brother calls out as I unlock the doors. “It’s been plenty dirty.” I’m a Chevy guy, my brother’s a Ford man. He blows me as much shit as he can about my truck of choice and the fact that this model was the price of a small farm. Placing the thermos inside, I go back to help Addy with the cooler. “Let me take that, Sugar,” I say from behind her causing her to jump. “Lordy, Beau. You scared the hell out of me,” she says a hand to her chest. “Why so jumpy? You over here thinkin’ about me naked?” “You wish,” she shoots back, handing me the cooler and closing up her Jeep.

“Maybe all this hammer swingin’ will change your mind. I might even take my shirt off to help you along. You know, since it’ll be hot out and all.” “Do whatever you want with your shirt, Beau McCrae. It makes no never mind to me,” Addy says as she brushes past me. “Girl didn’t your mama tell you lyin’ was a sin?” I call after her, unable to keep my eyes off the sway of her ass in her cutoff shorts. Sealy honks the horn startling me to attention. I can see him laughing through the windshield. He knows exactly what I was doing. Catching up with Addy, I open the door and help her into the truck, a hand on her ass to give her a boost. She shoots me a look that I return with a wink. After shoving the cooler at a laughing Sealy in the back seat we’re on our way.

W

e pull up to the build site with a truck bed of lumber. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t all of these people milling about just as the sun is rising. “Wow. This is quite a turn out.” “Isn’t it great? This is the most we’ve ever had. I think it might have a little to do with you.” She grins over at me then says, “Don’t let it go to your head.” “Oh, it’s already gone to his fat head. You shoulda heard his ass this morning. ‘Country music royalty’ I believe is what he called himself,” Sealy tosses from the back seat making Addy’s eyes widen. Quickly she pulls her lips between her teeth as does her best to hold back a laugh. It lasts all of two seconds as I watch her, daring her to laugh. Her laughter just triggers Sealy’s snickering and pretty soon the two sound like a bunch of hyenas. “Y’all about done?” I ask over their chortles “Not yet, Your Highness,” Addy says on another bubble of laughter. My brother damn near falls out of the truck laughing his fool ass off. Muttering under my breath, I get out of the truck and go over to help Miss sassy ass Addy out. Her eyes shine with glee as she pats my cheek. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” Spinning on her heel when someone calls her name, she waves and takes my hand, pulling me behind her. “Hey daddy!” Addy says releasing my hand to give the big man in front of us a hug. “Daddy, these are the McCrae boys, Beau and Sealy. Guys, this is Wade Masterson, my father.” “Sir.” I nod, shaking his hand in greeting. My brother does the same. “Can’t thank y’all enough for being here and for picking up the wood,” he says in a booming voice. “Now come on over and meet everyone and we’ll start off with a little prayer and get to buildin’.” We follow behind him to one of the open-sided tents where everyone has gathered for their job assignments and instructions. There’s a refreshment tent, as well as a tent from the radio station where a DJ is setting up. When we walk up, I see the shift, the excitement

upon my arrival. They must have been spoken to about me being there and how to act or not act before we got here. Makes it just slightly less awkward. Addy tugs on my arm and whispers, “You okay?” She must have noticed as well. “I’m fine, Sugar.” I smile down at her. Been a long time since anyone asked after me and actually meant it. Tasks are given out, my brother and I are paired up, but Addy is sent off with another group. Before she walks off she asks again if I’m okay. I nod that I am and go off to tackle some masonry work with Sealy. One good thing about being home, with all this manual labor on the ranch and now this build I don’t have to go to the gym. I hand Sealy his tool belt from the back of my truck and fasten mine around my waist. “You ready to build some shit?” “Yes, sir. You ready? You gonna be okay so far away from Addy? Kinda hard to watch her ass from where we’ll be.” I give him a shove, “I’ll manage.” Maybe.

A

fter four hours of working hard, we break for lunch. I’m just about to go find Addy when she calls my name, motioning for us to come over to where she stands near the refreshment tent. Sealy and I walk over and she hands us ice cold bottles of water. She’s filthy. Her face is dirt-stained, her shoulders red from the sun, and the front of her shirt is wet with her sweat. “Thanks,” I murmur, downing the bottle in one long drink. She hands me another, and that’s when I notice a gash on her arm. Taking it gently in my hand, I turn it so I can see better. It could use a couple butterfly bandages. “What happened, Sugar?” Addy shrugs. “Nail from a loose board got me. I was just going to look for a first aid kit when I saw you guys.” “Let’s go get that kit. I’ll throw a couple butterflies on that.” I turn to Sealy. “Will you find us someplace to sit.” He nods and lopes off. “Come on.” With her hand in mine, I go over to the main tent and ask about the first aid supplies. They produce a red box, and without releasing Addy’s hand I take the box from the lady and thank her. Sealy found us a spot in the shade at the end of one of the long picnic tables they set out. “You guys take care of her arm, I’ll get us some food,” he says when we reach him. I nod in thanks and guide Addy to the bench, her back against the table. I sit to her side, legs spread wide, knees bracketing her. Silently I take the water bottle Sealy left behind and pour it over the cut. She hisses, “Oh that’s cold. It feels good though.” “I bet. It’s hot out here today.” Opening the kit, I take out some gauze and pat at the wound. Peroxide in hand I grimace. “This might sting a little, Sugar, but I gotta make sure it’s clean.”

Addy closes her eyes. “I’m ready.” With her slender arm in my hand, I can’t look away from her. The once tightly braided pigtails are now wispy with flecks of paint in them. Her tanned legs are covered in dirt, her hat flipped backwards just like mine, the sun bringing out the smatter of freckles across her cheeks and nose. When I don’t move, she cracks her eyes open to find me watching her. “You’re beautiful.” “I’m filthy,” is her quick response. “Doesn’t matter, I like you dirty,” I fire back. And I do. “Are you flirting with me?” “Only every time I open my mouth.” A blush works its way over her skin. She smiles at me and I can’t help but return it before going back to doctoring her. Slowly I pour the peroxide over her arm, blowing on it to ease some of the stinging. Once it bubbles up, I pat her arm dry and fix two butterfly bandages over the wound and then cover it with a wide waterproof bandaid to keep it clean while she works. All finished, I bring her arm up to my mouth and place a kiss over the freshly bandaged area. The goosebumps that flit across her skin shouldn’t make me hard. But they do. Knowing that she’s affected affects me. “Okay, I just grabbed a bunch of everythin’. I didn’t know what you guys wanted,” Sealy says, plopping down and breaking the moment Addy and I were having. “This is perfect, thank you so much,” Addy says, beaming at my brother. She stands and reaches for the first aid kit. “Just let me bring this to the tent, I’ll be right back.” I watch as she walks away, my eyes once again settling on her ass. “You’re awful, you know that?” “What?” I ask like I don’t know exactly what he’s talking about. “You sleeping with her yet?” “No. She’s my boss.” He raises his brows, a sandwich positioned in front of his mouth. “And that’s ever stopped you? I’m not sure anything or anyone has ever stood in the way of you getting what you want. You’re gonna let titles get in the way now?” Taking a giant bite of his sandwich he shakes his head. I don’t have time to answer. Addy is already sitting back down, smiling at us both as she unwraps her sandwich. “So boys.” She waits a beat. “I may have told the director that the McCrae brothers would sign autographs after the build for a little bit. Not long,” she rushes to reassure us. “Turns out not only do we have some country music fans here, but we also have some rodeo fans. Everyone’s tickled pink to be working alongside a famous singer and a professional bull rider.” I look over at Sealy who just nods, a mouthful of sandwich preventing him from speaking. Addy looks my way, “Is that okay? The radio station is going to make a big deal

of it and post pictures on their website as well. They’re hoping that it will generate even more help for any future builds.” “Whatever you need me to do.” I can see the words soak in as she looks at me. A little differently now than she did before. I’m not sure what shifted, but I’m glad that it did. Her expression is softer, more open. It makes me want to see what other ways I can get her to look at me.

14

ADDY

B

eau and Sealy have been signing anything and everything thrust at them— I think Beau even signed a hammer at one point—for nearly two and a half hours now. The sun has already begun to set and these boys are still smiling and taking pictures and never once complaining or looking like they want to be anywhere else. The people in line gush equally over both brothers which I’m happy about. I didn’t even know Sealy was a big deal until my daddy told me. The moment I was away from them after lunch, I looked him up on my phone and sure enough, Sealy McCrae is one hell of a bull rider resting up after an injury to his shoulder. I smile as Beau says something that makes a young boy in line laugh. The two men are sitting, heads bent, scribbling away. Sealy in a straw cowboy hat and Beau in his baseball cap cranked backwards, both of them covered in sweat and dirt. Hard to believe either one of them is the bad boy of anything when you see them like this. According to the stuff I read, Sealy has a bit of a reputation as well. Not quite as bad as Beau’s, but Beau has been on a streak lately. “They sure are pretty,” a voice at my shoulder says. Glancing over, I see an attractive woman I don’t know, her eyes taking in the McCrae boys much the same way I was, only she makes me want to stand in front of them and block them from her view. Instead I answer, “They certainly are.” She doesn’t respond, just continues to watch the boys interact with the people vying for their attention. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” I ask as politely as I can. It’s a little harder than one would think. I don’t know why I feel so territorial over a man I’m not even dating. But Lord have mercy, do I. “Oh, you’ve probably heard of me, I’m Tara Remy. I work for Country All Day.” She doesn’t hold out a hand for me to shake or anything, just kind of looks at me expectantly. Like she’s waiting for me to get all excited over who she is and who she works for. Not today, honey pie. My face is blank, the silence a little heavy but when she doesn’t bother to ask who I am, I decide not to offer it up. She’ll figure it out soon enough. When she realizes I’m not going to fawn all over her, she goes back to watching the guys. “I feel sorry for whoever Beau McCrae came here with,” Tara says coyly. The hair at the back of my neck bristles. “Why’s that?” I ask in a bored tone. She

either knows he came with me and she’s playing a game or she’s about to put her foot in a steaming pile of shit. “Because I’m going to make damn sure he leaves with me.” Her smile is wolfish, turning the face I found pretty just moments ago into an overly made-up mask. “I’ve read all about Beau McCrae in Exposé magazine. I have the picture from the last story they did on him pinned up in my work cubicle.” Beau picks that moment to raise his head from whatever he’s scribbling his name on, and our gazes meet. I don’t return his smile because I’m too busy trying to think about how I’m going to handle the situation I’m currently in. I have no right to be jealous or to be madder than a wet hen. Really, I should make nice with this woman because she’s with the station and she could do Beau a world of good with a feature about how hard he worked out here. A frown slips over his mouth, the first I’ve seen all day. He turns back to the last person in line, his smile back in place as he shakes the man’s hand and stands for a picture. I know he’s going to head over here any second, and I don’t want him to see my crazy showing again. Once in the studio was enough. I make an executive decision. One I’m sure I’ll be proud of later, but now almost tastes like defeat. “Maybe I should introduce myself,” offering my hand, “Addy Masterson with Hardy Candy Records. I represent Beau. He and his brother are here with me today.” Tara takes my hand, in a bit of a confused fog. The smug look on her face slipping just slightly before it’s replaced with one of delight. “So he’s not here-here with you.” I grit my teeth and give a strained smile. “No. We’re here in a professional capacity.” Taking my hand back, I watch as she not-so-discreetly wipes away the dirt I may have left behind . “Perfect. At least I won’t have to feel guilty about leaving with him then.” Her laugh is meant to be cute, I think. It’s not. It grates on my every nerve. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but as part of his team, I can assure you that Beau won’t be leaving here with anyone other than his brother and me.” That probably wasn’t as professionally stated as it could have been, but really. Do women have no self-respect anymore? Or is it just Beau that makes smart girls act dumb? “Where aren’t I going?” Beau’s beside me with a hand on the small of my back. I don’t answer that question, instead trying to be the professional I truly am, at least when Beau isn’t involved, and make introductions. “Beau, this is Tara Remy from Country All Day. Tara, Beau McCrae.” “Pleased to meet you,” Beau answers smoothly. I notice there’s not a hint of that usual sexy Good Ol’ Boy thing he does. Before I can put more thought into that, Tara holds a hand out for him to shake. He does, even as his other rests on my back still. Standing statue still, I try not to notice the way Tara lets her hand linger in a caressing manner when he pulls his back. “Beau, I would absolutely love to do a one-on-one interview with you for the station.”

Her voice drops into a seductive purr that she definitely didn’t use when talking to me. “That right?” His gaze lands on me, I can feel it on the side of my face. “Well, Addy Mae here is the boss, so whatever she says goes.” As I watch, Tara deflates, but only for a moment. “I’m sure you don’t mind since it would get him an exclusive. I would love the opportunity to paint him in a better light than those silly rag mags have been lately.” “Well, that is the point of being here,” Beau hedges. Now it’s I who begins to deflate. Tara perks up like someone just jammed a lightning rod up her ass. “See? It’s fate,” she chirps. The whole time they’re talking, I’m only half-focused on them. The rest of me is focusing on the swipe of Beau’s thumb over my spine. Over and over. Does he realize he’s doing it? Why is he doing it? Isn’t that kind of intimate? Do I care if it is? I don’t think I do care. I know I don’t want him to stop. I open my mouth to put an end to the whole stupid conversation, but Beau beats me to it. “As much as I would love the opportunity to sit and talk with you, I believe Addy made it pretty clear where I wouldn’t be this evening.” He chuckles. “I’m sure if you give the office a call, her secretary will set something up though. Isn’t that right, Sugar?” Looking down at me, he misses the eyebrows that disappear in Tara’s hairline at the endearment. So much for acting like a professional. “Absolutely. Nelle will be happy to check Beau’s schedule and get you on there,” I agree, although Tara looks much less interested than she did before. “Or I can just call Mark next week and set something up with him.” Mark is her boss and a friend. By the look on her face, she’s either surprised I know him or she doesn’t want me talking to him. “No, no. I’ll call Nelle. That’s great. Thank you. It was nice meeting you both.” Tara raises her hand in an awkward wave and quickly moves away. With a gentle nudge and a low laugh, he says, “You know, I never would’ve pegged you for the jealous type. You looked like you were gonna snatch her bald at one point.” But I think he might be right. Not that I’m going to admit it. “Not jealous. More like protecting your virtue.” “My virtue? I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you’re a little late for that, Sugar.” He winks at me and takes my hand. “Come on. We gotta go save Sealy from all these Buckle Bunnies here. He doesn’t have an Addy Mae Masterson looking out for his virtue like I do.”

P

rying Sealy away proves harder than I expect, but we finally do and say our goodbyes to my daddy before heading off. It’s nearly nine o’clock already and the thought of driving home is about as pleasing as you’d think. Beau takes a turn down an unfamiliar dirt road. “If you’re going to kill me, don’t toss me anywhere a gator can eat me when you’re done.” Sealy barks out a laugh. “You’ve been watching way too much TV, sis.” I noticed today that “sis” is Sealy’s endearment of choice. It’s cute. “Nobody’s killin’ anybody. This

is the road that leads to my place. I’m farther out from the main house. This is a shortcut.” Beau glances over at me before swinging his eyes back to the dirt road he’s navigating. “Plus, I couldn’t kill you. Who else would worry about my virtue,” he razzes. That elicits yet another laugh from Sealy in the back seat. “Don’t you worry. I’ll have my daddy pray for your sinnin’ ass.” “Somebody ought to,” he cracks, a smile kicking up the corner of his mouth. Before long, we pull up to a simple ranch-style house, similar to Beau’s, complete with wraparound porch. It’s hard to make out any details in the setting sun. I’ll have to make him give me a tour one day. “Sealy, thanks for all your help today. I’m glad you could make it.” “Me too. I had a lot of fun. Plus, I got me a couple dates out of it.” He grins in that reckless way that the McCrae boys have and raps his knuckles on the driver’s side door. “See you in the morning, little brother,” Beau calls to which Sealy responds with the middle finger. Beau shakes his head and throws the truck into gear and turns out of the drive…the opposite way we just came. “Change your mind about killin’ me?” “Not a chance, Sugar. This road leads us back home.” “Home.” Not “my place.” Silly how my heart lifted then skipped a beat over that Freudian slip. Lord have mercy, I’m going to have to put a rubber band on my wrist to snap every time I feel myself going there with Beau. He makes it easy though. For being painted as such a bad boy, I think he’s actually a really good man. At least from what I’ve seen so far. Yes, he likes the ladies, and they sure do like him, but how can you blame them? I wonder if the tabloids have it wrong about him and if he’s really this guy instead? I mean, I guess he can be this guy and a bad boy. This train of thought isn’t helping me. “What are you over there thinkin’ so hard about?” He startles me out of my thoughts. “Nothin’ really, just tired and sweaty is all. I need a cold shower and a nap.” Maybe not even in that particular order. “You worked hard today,” Beau praises. “Told you I liked to get dirty,” is my foot in mouth answer. “Careful now,’ he says, a roguish smile teasing his lips. With a smile of my own, I shake my head. With the window rolled down I can hear the soft buzz of the cicadas and the chirp of crickets, the scent of fresh grass and wild jasmine riding the breeze. Breathing it in, I let the scents and sounds lull me and my eyes drift closed. Only for a second though since Beau chooses that moment to go off-roading. “Sorry, Sugar,” he says as the truck rocks to a stop in a field of wildflowers. “Where are we?” I ask, confused.

“Just on the other side of my property. This is the river that my creek branches from. I thought we could use a cool down.” The suggestion is made like it’s the most natural thing in the world to swim in a creek, in the dark. Without swimsuits. In the dark. With a man I’m fighting serious attraction to with every breath he takes. Totally natural. “I can’t swim! I mean, I can swim but not with you. I don’t have a suit.” “You got underthings on today?” “Yes.” “Same thing as a suit. I’ll even keep mine on. You know, because I’m so virtuous and all.” He slides out of the truck and opens the back door, pulling things from under the seat. I twist in my seat to watch him put whatever it is he got and in the bed of the truck before coming around to my side and opening my door. “Come on, Sugar. Let’s wash this dirty off and cool down.” Taking my hand from my lap, he helps me out of the truck. “Beau, I am not skinny dipping with you. No good can come of that.” My voice is a little panicky because I don’t trust myself even half-naked around him. “Now you know that isn’t true. All good things happen to those who strip down and get nekkid,” Beau drawls out. He’s right, and even country as hell with his “nekkid,” I want to test out the theory. With a deep sigh I let him help me out and lead me to the back of the truck. Laid out is a comfy looking blanket and a couple towels. “Did you plan this?” I ask suspiciously. His deep laughter floats on the breeze along with the sounds of the country around us, goosebumping my skin. “No. I just always keep stuff in my truck. Especially now that I’m helping out here. You never know when you’ll need a quick dip after mending fence.” Okay. That makes sense. “You can change here in private, wrap the towel around yourself and then come down to the river if you want,” he offers. “Where will you be?” “In the river. Shamelessly naked.” His smirk is full of promise. Promise of all the things I suddenly want him to do to me. Or maybe not so suddenly. With his eyes on me, he takes his hat off and tosses it into the bed of the truck, running his fingers through his deliciously messy hair. Next he bends to unlace the work boots he wore today, different from the boots he typically wears. Straightening, he toes them off as he reaches to pull his shirt over his head in the way only a man can do. Immediately I’m brought back to the night I touched myself while watching Beau do something similar in his music video. Thinking about how turned on I was and how easily

my fingers slicked through my arousal and how much I wanted to be the woman he was in bed with isn’t going to help my current situation. My gaze travels across his shoulders, his chest, and down the toned muscles of his stomach. The thin trail of hair disappearing down the front of his jeans is a beacon drawing me in. I should look away, but when he reaches for his belt, sliding the leather through the metal clasp, I’m drawn to his hands, working effortlessly to get his pants unfastened. Every single one of my senses is amplified, my breathing coming in anxious puffs. My heart is galloping faster than a horse rounding barrels at the rodeo. Watching him slip the button through the hole and slowly ease down his zipper is foreplay. He knows the effect he’s having on me. There’s no way he can’t. I can feel his eyes on me. Watching my every reaction and not saying anything, just feeding it. When he hooks his thumbs inside the waistband of his jeans, I have to bite back a whimper. He pushes them slowly over his hips, over muscled thighs, revealing an erection I would love to reach out and touch. Glide my hand over the soft velvet of the head and squeeze the steel under the silk. Virtuous my ass. He said he would leave them on, he lied. “You okay, Sugar?” His voice is graveled, thick with the arousal I’m feeling and a hint of playfulness. My eyes fly to his and everything I’m feeling is right there on his handsome face. He’s as affected as I am. I swallow, willing my voice to work. “This isn’t a good idea, Beau.” My throat works as I swallow. “And put your boxers back on, you promised.” I pretend not to be disappointed when he pulls them back up, not that it does any good, I’ve already seen what’s underneath and the cotton material isn’t hiding that thing. My attempt is half-hearted at best. I know what’s going to happen here tonight if I get into the water with this man. This virile, beautiful, talented, and sexy man. I’m gonna get attached, and I won’t be able to regret it until the shine wears off sometime tomorrow.

15

BEAU

A

ddy Mae Masterson is going to be the death of me right here by the river on a hot Texas night. With the moon high above us and the stars blanketing the sky. The. Death. Of. Me. “Really not a good idea,” she repeats. Most likely trying to convince us both. It’s not going to work on me. She asked if I had this planned. I didn’t, but now that we’re here, I know exactly how I want this night to end. How I need it to end. Up until now, I’ve teased and flirted, hoping something would come out of it, but not needing it to. Until today. Now here I am needing this woman like I’ve never once needed a woman before. “From where I’m standing, it looks like a very good idea,” I reassure as I step out of my jeans and socks. Stepping over the pile of clothes, I put myself right in front of her. The smell of her skin, a mixture of vanilla and honey mingled with the sexy sweetness of her sweat, hangs on the warm breeze around us. Slowly, I reach up and take the baseball cap from her head and send it flying into the bed of the truck with a flick of my wrist. She brings her hands up and starts smoothing her hair. I bat her away, lifting one of the braids up to my face. With her eyes locked on my face, I inhale deeply, taking in all of the scents that make up Addy and then place a kiss to the plaited strands. “Beau.” It’s a whispered plea. Whether she knows it or not. Letting the hair fall back to her shoulder, I take the hem of her tank top in my grasp and ease it up inch by inch, exposing her to me. My knuckles brush against her soft skin as I go. I let the backs of my fingers drag over her breasts. When she closes her eyes, bottom lip clamped between her teeth, I stop moving, just standing still, my fingers still pressed into her. I wait her out until she opens her eyes again. Once she does and I see the need in her mossy gaze, I continue. Addy raises her arms until I’m dragging the little shirt over her head. Dropping the tank, I cup her wrists, held above her head still and then slowly trace my way down them with just the tips of my fingers, watching as they skate across her skin, a trail of fire I know she must feel. Gradually she lowers her arms to her sides but I’ve already moved on to her shoulders, my thumb gliding over the smooth skin of her collarbones before I boldly graze the swell of her breast. When the nipples pebble and press against the sheer, flower pattern of her bra, I have to swallow back a groan of my own. For as fast as my heart is beating, my breathing is even, my movements sure. How long had it been since I took my time like

this with a woman? As steady as my hands are, I can feel the slight tremble taking over Addy as I swipe my thumbs leisurely over the tips of her breasts. As much as I want to, I don’t linger. I let my hands span her tiny waist, fingers touching over her spine then drag my nails lightly over her skin, grinning when she shudders. Deftly I pop the button on her jean shorts and work the zipper down, the whole time praying she doesn’t make me stop. When she kicks off her shoes, using my arms to brace herself, it’s all the permission I need. I slip my hands into the back of her shorts, cupping bare ass and a tiny lace string. Pushing them down her legs, I crouch in front of her to work them over her thighs. Eye level with her lace covered pussy, it takes everything I have not to bury my face in that sweet spot. Back at full height, I take a small step back to get a better look. She’s homegrown sin with her braided pigtails, a cute farmer’s tan from being out in the blazing sun all day, and a matching set of lace cut out underthings. “This is what you wore to build a house? This? While working side by side with your daddy?” I admonish. “My God, woman. You better have him pray for both of us.” She places her hands on her perfectly rounded hips. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” “Not a damn thing, Sugar. Not one damn thing.” Knowing that if I don’t get her in the water soon, I’m going to end up fucking her against the truck while the moon glows down on us, I take her hand and tug. “Come on, let’s get you wet.” I glance back at her over my shoulder, the look on her face making me amend my current statement. “Wetter.” I wink and she slaps at my arm, embarrassed. Picking my way carefully over the uneven ground I lead us to the water’s edge. The river is about five feet deep here at its deepest. Knowing she can’t be much taller than that, I’m looking forward to having her wrapped around me. The water is cool against my heated skin but not cold. Easing us in, Addy clinging to my back as we get deeper and deeper, I reach behind me and lift her up, hooking her legs around my waist. My water slick hands settling on the underneath of her thighs, I dip us lower into the dark water, moonlight reflecting off the ripples that we’re making. The heat from her pussy pressed against my back is like a branding iron, leaving its mark on my skin. I’m in trouble with this one. When we reach the deepest point I snake my arm around my back, hooking Addy by her waist and swinging her around to my front. Never breaking contact, her arms rest on my shoulders, her legs wrapped around my waist. I run my hands down her back to cup her ass, letting loose a low groan. She’s so soft and wet and fucking perfect. I’ve got her held against the ridges of my stomach, just above where my cock is straining against my wet boxer briefs to reach her. “Beau, what are we doin’?” she asks in a breathy tone as I knead the globes of her ass. “Swimmin’.” “Beau McCrae you know damn well this is more than swimmin.’ This is trouble.” “The good kind.” I grin, dipping us lower in the water. “You ready?”

“Ready for what?” she asks, sounding a little anxious. “Hold your breath, Sugar,” I tell her right before submersing us completely. We’re under just long enough to wet our hair and rinse some of the dirt away. Breaking the surface, Addy reaches up to swipe at the water and hair on her face. With water still dripping from my own face, I fill the space between us by pressing her closer, tighter against me. The urge to thrust up or at least rub my cock against the seam of her panties is nearly overwhelming. I haven’t felt the need to dry hump anyone since damn middle school. She lets go of my shoulders and arches, her legs around my waist tightening as she dips her head into the water, laid out before me, taut stomach, tits bobbing on the water, just begging for me to taste. While I’m busy admiring the perfect mouthful of her breasts, she’s unbraided her hair, the long strands floating around her head as she slips under the water’s surface one last time. I don’t wait for her to wipe the water from her face or to open her eyes when she comes up. I put my lips to hers and suck at the water droplets gathered there. Swiping my tongue along the seam of her mouth, I demand, plead for entrance. When she lets me in, a feral growl rips past my lips and into her mouth. She swallows it and answers with a moan of her own. Her hands clutch at my shoulders, nails digging for purchase as I slide her against me. Our wet bodies add fuel to an already raging hot fire. I pull back, nipping at her mouth as I do, using her hair to hold her away from me when she tries to follow. Lowering her so that she can feel my cock nudge against her, hard, ready, so fucking ready to take her, I put my lips to her ear, our bodies creating a suction I’m not ready to break and tell her exactly what I want from her. “I want to fuck you right here in this river, with nothing but the stars in the sky and the moon shining down on us to witness you coming apart in my arms as I take you over and over again.” When she whimpers, I can’t help the cocky grin that makes its way across my lips. “I want my name to echo around us when you come.” I stop talking when Addy presses down on me, my cock nudging against her pussy. The lace of her panties and the thin material of my boxer briefs are the only things separating us. I’m about to change that. “There’s only one problem.” I sip a droplet of water from her earlobe. “I need you to promise me you won’t regret it later…because I’m gonna want to do it again.” “A-again?” she stammers out as she continues to let the water aid her in tormenting me. “I want you here, right now. And then I want to spread you out in the bed of my truck and do it all over. Fuck you until you can’t remember why we shouldn’t.” I roll my hips and give her something to really grind on. “Let me in, Sugar. Let me take that sweetness.” She nods her head, her breathing coming out in short pants, her pussy rubbing over the head of my dick pushing me right over the edge. Reaching in between us, I still her movements just long enough to pull myself free of the constraints of my boxers and slide her panties to the side, holding them there while I slip first one then two fingers through her slit and into her welcoming pussy. “Mmmm, so tight. So ready.” “Beau, please,” she pants, way past caring about the fact she thinks this is trouble.

That I am trouble. Always the gentleman, I give her what she wants and replace my fingers with my cock in one swift thrust, the water rippling around us, my name falling from her lips on an open-mouthed cry. She’s so goddamn tight. Spreading my feet wide on the sandy bottom of the river, I curl my hands over her shoulders to anchor myself to her. Addy’s heels dig into my ass as she uses it for leverage to lift herself off of me, meeting me thrust for thrust. The water around us churns with more than just a gentle ripple now as we race to fuck out all of the pent-up tension we’ve been dancing around since the day we met. This is going to be over way sooner than either of us wants it to be if I don’t slow us down. Rotating my hips clockwise, I throw her off the sensual rhythm she was using to kill me. With a tug on her hair, I pull her back just enough to line her jaw with greedy kisses, moving to her throat and shoulder. Nipping and suckling her skin, the taste of Addy mixed with the cold water of the river is intoxicating. “Beeeaaauuuu,” she all but purrs, her head falling back further, her pelvis pressed even tighter as she arches into me. “I got you, Sugar.” I use the buoyancy of the water to guide her on and off my cock in slow, steady glides, each time bringing me closer and closer to coming. Knowing that I’m running out of time and that there’s no way I’m finishing without her, I take one hand from underneath her and unclasp her bra, stripping it from her and flinging it in the direction of the shore, knowing good god damn well it isn’t going to make it to the bank. With her tits bared to me, I lean down and capture an already tightly budded nipple in my hot mouth, rolling it around, sucking as much of the globe as I can in my mouth before releasing it and lavishing the other with the same attention. Addy’s nails rake over my scalp, tugging at the long strands of wet hair, holding me to her as she rides me, finding her rhythm once again. The slip and slide of her pussy over my cock combined with the soft flesh of her tits across my chest is my undoing. I’m just about to reach between us to make sure she’ll be coming with me when she lets out a loud, strangled shout. It might be my name, it might be a prayer or some cussing, but whatever it is, it’s damn hot with her head thrown back, water glistening on her skin, the moon casting a milky glow over her naked body. Damn hot. Like some kind of sexy mermaid. Doing my best to hold back just long enough for her to ride out her orgasm, the moment her glazed over eyes meet mine, I show no mercy, driving into her with all the force the water will allow. Addy clings to my shoulders, her tits crushed between us, and licks at the water on my neck, biting and soothing and whispering filthy things that no preacher’s daughter should even know. The minute she nips my earlobe and demands, “Fuck me, Beau. Make me remember all the things I fantasized you doing to me,” knowing that she fantasized about me is enough to make me lose whatever control I have left. Just as I’m about to come, I realize that the reason she feels so fucking good, her pussy so warm and smooth and slick is because I don’t have a condom on. “Fuck,” I hiss between my teeth, knowing it’s too late to turn back now. I thrust higher and deeper and wait as long as I possibly can until I get that tingle in my spine, then I pull out, sliding my cock up and down between her folds. Using the friction of her panties and smooth come-

slick skin to finish me off, my groan of pleasure echoes around the river. Legs weak now that I wasn’t buried inside Addy and her sweet mermaid pussy, I dip us one last time to rinse off. Addy lets out a soft laugh, resting her forehead to mine. “Well, that escalated quickly.” “That’s been festering for weeks.” “Has it now?” she asks, a content smile on her face. “Since the day I met you and you tried to pretend you didn’t think I was sexy. I saw you checking me out.” Not able to help myself, I brush a kiss across her smile. One that she returns. “I did think you were sexy. And infuriating. Cocky,” she admits, pressing kisses to my mouth and stubbled cheeks. Thrusting against her, my cock already halfway to hard again, I give her a knowing smirk. “How cocky do you think I am now?”

16

ADDY

“Y ou lost my favorite bra,” I accuse as Beau hands me a towel to dry off. I should feel more panicked than I do. I just had sex with Beau McCrae, my client, outside, in a river, without a condom. I also admitted to him that I fantasized about him. I can only hope he forgets that. Knowing Beau, he won’t. All of that and I’m not feeling panicked, because he was right. This was bound to happen. I knew it and that’s why I tried to pretend I didn’t like it. So no, I’m not going to regret it, not tonight anyway. Tomorrow might be a different story though. “Funny, it was my favorite bra too.” He winks, a sexy grin pulling at his stubbled face. I watch in fascination as he rubs the towel over his muscled chest and arms. I turn to the task of drying myself before I knock him to the ground and have my way with him… again. I pick my tank top off the pile of clothes and slip it over my head, foregoing the shorts. I don’t wait to see what Beau puts on or doesn’t. My overstimulated senses need a break from him for just a minute. Going to the back of the truck I situate the blankets in the bed to form a comfy pallet for us to lie on. I wasn’t kidding when I said that this all escalated quickly, but I don’t feel uncomfortable or even awkward yet, so I just want to enjoy this moment. Strong hands wrap around my waist from behind, startling me. “Let me help you up,” he says in a husky voice. “I can do it. I’ve been in and out of it several times already.” “Oh, trust me, I know. I’ve been watching. I’m not sure I can take you climbing back up there one more time. That ass waving around in the air taunting me.” “I wasn’t waving anything.” I laugh, turned on by my ability to turn him on. Especially without even trying. “Whatever you say, Sugar. Just get your fine ass up there.” Beau lifts me like I weigh nothing at all, so I treat him with a little ass wiggle as I crawl on all fours up further in the truck. I’m rewarded with a drawn out groan. Finished with my torture for now, I flop back and wait for him to hoist himself up into the bed. Talk about torture, I think while watching him in his low slung jeans, unbuttoned and unzipped, as he goes around to the driver’s side and flips the radio on before joining me. We’re lying side by side in the back of his truck, music playing and the stars lighting up the sky, and I can’t think of a single place I’d rather be.

Feeling emboldened and a little bit entitled since we’ve just been intimate, I decide now is a good time to get to know Beau a little better. Doing it a little backwards, but whatever. “So, why music?” I shift so I’m looking at him. And what a sight he is. Hair mussed, bare chest, arms crossed behind his head making his biceps bulge. He’s not overly large, but he’s big enough and his arms are the stuff of fantasies. Literally. He has his ankles crossed, the denim like butter against my thigh when I brush against him. The man even has sexy feet which is totally unfair. “Why music? Well, my mama insisted I be well-rounded and not just some wild child.” He grins. “I was all football all the time from early on. My dad and I going to every home game down at the high school as far back as I could remember. My mama told him if I was going to play ball that I was also going to learn something useful. My mama clearly did not think much of football. So one day my granddad gave me a banjo. It had belonged to his dad. I thought it was so country.” A laugh rumbles in his chest. “But it did lead me to pick up a guitar, then the piano at church. Next thing I know I’m singin’ in the choir.” “You? You’re a choir boy?” I’m shocked by that little bit of information. “Yes, me. And Sealy actually. But then football took up more and more time, and I still had chores on the ranch, so that singin’ and playin’ was just something I did when nobody was around. I wrote songs and played my guitar when nobody was lookin’.” “But why?” “You know how it is here, Sugar. Small town football is a way of life. There’s not time for much else. If they knew I was puttin’ my energy into somethin’ else and had a bad game, it would be because I wasn’t focused enough. Dedicated enough.” “Your parents put that much pressure on you?” I don’t know why, but I didn’t get that feeling from meeting them. They both seemed to just want their boys to be happy. “No. The town though. Jenny.” His voice trails off. I’m not real crazy about bringing her up right now, especially after everything we just did but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious. “She didn’t like that you played or whatever?” I hedge. “No, she did, but we all knew I was going to go all the way with football. Even back in high school it was a given. I would play ball in college for a year or two and then go to the NFL. It was only a matter of time. She didn’t want me to lose focus of the big picture.” Beau goes quiet and I’m afraid I’ve ruined the night with my questions but can’t help to ask another. “Which dream was your dream? If you could choose now, would you still choose music?” “I don’t think anybody’s ever asked me that,” he admits. “I think back then, football was the easier choice. It made the most sense. When I got hurt, at first I was angry and depressed. But then it was almost as if I was relieved. I didn’t realize that music is what I really wanted. I knew I was made for better than ranching. Not that it’s not an admirable life,” he amends with a grin.

“When they told me I wouldn’t play ball again at one hundred percent, I had decisions to make, and I had to make them quick. I found out really quick who my friends were and who they weren’t. I didn’t realize that music was a viable option until a little later. Until I tried all the wrong shit first.” We both laugh at that. This is a side of Beau I don’t think anyone gets to see. That he’s showing it to me is dangerous to my heart. “So why Austin and not Nashville? I mean, that’s the obvious choice for an up-andcoming country star.” “It is. And I went. I left everything and everyone behind and did the Nashville thing. Playing all the dive bars, living off of frozen burritos and ramen noodles. Hell, I slept in my truck more times than I can count.” “Jenny didn’t go with?” I ask, genuinely curious. “Not at first. She was still in school. Then by the time she was done, I wasn’t sure I wanted her to come. I wasn’t exactly killing it there.” With a shake of his head, he stares up at the sky and the million stars, lost in his thoughts. “What changed?” “I think I was homesick. I was having a hard time finding my place in Nashville. I wasn’t country enough for country fans, and I was too country for the non-country crowd. Even now it’s the same fight. But then it was worse. I was ready to pack it up and come home so many times.” With a deep sigh he rolls his head to look at me. “She caught me at a weak moment. I finally gave in and she was there within a couple days. Then Jimmy found me a year later.” Now it’s me lost in thought. I want to know more, but I don’t. I want to ask what happened to them and if he still loves her, but I’m afraid to ask. He makes the decision for me. “Enough of all that shit. I wanna know about you.” I groan and flop on my back. “I’m super boring.” Beau runs his fingers down my bare thigh. “I wouldn’t say that. You have a filthy mouth and a smokin’ body. Two very not borin’ things, Sugar.” I can feel the blush creeping over my face. I can’t believe I said the things I did. And how do I not react to Beau McCrae telling me I have a smokin’ body? “So you say you get attached easily yet you’re single? How does that happen lookin’ like you do?” “You sweet talkin’ me for a reason?” I laugh at that since I already gave him the goods. “I was burned pretty bad by the last serious relationship I was in. I got…attached.” I roll my eyes. “He did not. And ever since I’ve just been working to build Hard Candy with Willow and the guys, so haven’t had time.” Shrugging like it’s nothing. “And there’s never been anything between you and Jimmy or any of the Wrecked guys?” Scrunching my nose at him, I shake my head. “Hell no. Jimmy and I have known each other since preschool. Our mama’s are friends, and the guys and I basically grew up together as well. My granny sold the farm when my gramps died. I was about fifteen, and

moved into a small house right next door to Willow who lived next door to Law, Judge, and Stone and then Arrow was a few miles away,” I rattle off. “Guys don’t care about that, Addy. I guarantee all you had to do was say the word and any one of them would have—” “Don’t,” I interrupt. “Even the thought is gross to me.” I shudder. “So you wouldn’t have let them take you…swimmin’ in the river had they asked?” He shifts so that he’s on his side, head propped up by his hand. With a sexy, knowing smirk he waits, looking relaxed and content. And hot. So, so hot. “Not a chance.” My voice has a little bit of a dazed tone to it. Dazed or needy. I’m not sure which exactly. “And what if they had wanted to kiss you?” Beau rubs his thumb over my bottom lip, his eyes locked on mine when he leans in, hovering just a breath away from my mouth. “They wouldn’t have,” I whisper. “I would.” He closes the space between us, kissing me softly at first, and then more deeply. My mouth opens to allow him entrance, his tongue just barely dipping inside to taste. A tease really. Doing my best to scoot closer, he pulls back. “I would have kissed you every chance I got.” Rubbing his nose against mine, he nips at my bottom lip. “I would have kissed you anywhere you wanted.” He gives a slow swipe of his tongue. “I would have kissed you until you begged me to fuck you.” Oh God. “With my mouth, then my cock.” A whimper slips past my lips, making him smile. “Is that you beggin’, Sugar?” Watching me, he lifts a handful of still damp hair and smoothes his fingers over the strands, casually bringing them up to his nose, inhaling before placing a kiss and then releasing them I nod yes. Then shake my head no. Which elicits a laugh from him. “You’ll have to work on that.” He kisses the tip of my nose and slides to the end of the truck bed and hops down. Disappearing inside the cab, he comes back with a guitar. He makes climbing back into the truck look way more graceful than I ever could and settles beside me again, this time sitting back against the cool metal frame, guitar resting on his lap as he strums. “You ever been to one of my concerts?” “No. I’ve never been to any concerts as a fan. I’ve always been on the sidelines or backstage working.” “That makes sense. So when I go on tour for Hard Candy, you’ll be there?” “Just depends.” I shrug. “If I wanted you there would you come?” “Yes.” I don’t even hesitate. I probably should have so I don’t seem so eager but I can’t deny him. I feel as if he doesn’t often ask anyone for anything, and he may be speaking in the hypothetical, but I’m not. If he asks, I will be there.

He nods and starts humming along to the song filtering through the open windows of the truck, fingers working over the strings of his guitar in an almost lazy way. “Did you put this on?” It’s “Speakers” by Sam Hunt, the lyrics kind of perfect for our current situation. Now it’s his turn to shrug, a mischievous grin on his face as he starts singing. Not only is this my favorite Sam Hunt song, it’s dead sexy. He’s dead sexy. “You know you kind of look like him?” I muse. Beau shakes his head. “I’m better looking.” Winking he closes his eyes and goes on serenading me. I wish he’d put on one of his own songs, but this will work too. I watch mesmerized as he caresses the guitar, his muscles dancing underneath the tanned skin of his arms. The cords in his neck taut as he sings. I can’t take my eyes off of him. I move closer, his eyes open and following my every move as I straddle his legs, not breaking eye contact. “Your lips, your hair, your smile, your touch…” He doesn’t get any further. I nudge the guitar off his lap and swallow the rest of the verse in a devouring kiss. Beau McCrae on his own is a force to be reckoned with. Beau McCrae with Sam Hunt as a wingman is tsunami level and is getting him so laid right now.

17

BEAU

W

hen she pulls open the door, I let out a long, low wolf whistle. “Girl, I don’t know how you do it, but you make jean shorts and a tank top look like one hundred percent sin, every damn time.” She signals for me to be quiet and says into the phone, “I’ll call you back, Willow.” A pause as she listens and then a solemn, “I promise.” She disconnects and opens the door wider for me to come in. “How did you get up here?” “Your door guy is a fan. I’m pretty sure he’s downstairs calling Exposé Magazine right now.” I wish I were kidding. “Well, at least he has good taste in music.” She’s awkward. Won’t look at me. This is what she was afraid of. Not me though. She’s crazy if she thinks I’ll let her make this weird. I close the door behind me as she flits off to the kitchen to get coffee mugs down. “You about done?” Leaning back against the butcher block counter, I cross my arms over my chest. Her head snaps up. “Done with what?” “With this weird shit you’re doin’.” “I’m not being weird.” I don’t answer, just look at her with a bland face, waiting for her to be truthful with herself. “Okay. I’m being weird. I just don’t know how to be now…now that we…” Struggling to find a word or label, she trails off and waves her hand back and forth between us. “Say it.” Huffing, she puts the coffee mug down. “Fine. Now that we’ve slept together.” “That’s funny—I don’t remember sleepin’ at all.” There’s no use fighting the smirk working its way across my mouth. “I remember you screamin’ my name and tellin’ me you fantasize about me. That I do remember. Vividly.” Addy just glares at me, a flush creeping over her skin. I jerk my chin in the direction of the coffee pot. “I’ll take cream and sugar, Sugar.”

With a shake of her head she pours our coffee, handing me mine. “You’re infuriatin’, you know that?” I wink and take a sip from my mug. “So, what brings you here? You’re supposed to be in the studio.” “Just came from there. Apparently the new receptionist the temp agency sent over had a family emergency. His wife went into labor.” Addy meets my gaze over the rim of her coffee mug not even a little fazed by this. “So I went to the office but you weren’t there. Nelle said you were working from home so here I am.” “But why?” I didn’t actually know the answer to that. No, that’s a lie. It’s because I wanted to see her. I wanted to hear her laugh and inhale her sweet scent. I wanted a chance to kiss her again, and if I’m honest I was hoping she’d let me strip her down and fuck her in a proper bed this time. “Need your help. My mama’s birthday is next week and I need help picking something out for her. She doesn’t like flashy. Bought her a new car one year. She returned it, got a cheaper model and donated the difference to her church,” I say chuckling at the memory. Addy grins. “Probably didn’t even tell you, did she?” “Nope. She sure didn’t. So are you finished with work? Can you help me?” “Do I need to change?” I take the opening she gives me to look her over. Hair down and wavy, little pink tank top with a lace up front,tiny jean shorts, just long enough to not be indecent, but just barely, and a pair of black Chucks on her feet, that sexy black bird tattoo high on her foot making me smile. “Sugar, the only way you could look any better is if you were naked. And I’m okay with that too.” If the tightness in my pants is any indication, I’m more than okay with it. “Uh uh. That was a one-time thing.” I raise my brows and she corrects herself. “Two and a half time thing. We can’t keep messin’ around like that. What if we have a bad fallin’ out? We still have to work together.” She places her hands on her curved hips. “What if your mama finds out? She hates me. She won’t like it at all. And what if Jimmy Don or anyone at the label hears? It won’t look good for me.” “You done now?” I ask, taking a step closer, swallowing up the space between us. “No. I have a million reasons. I can go for hours.” “So can I.” Biting my lip to keep from laughing when she rolls her eyes at my innuendo, I go on. “That’s a whole lot of what-ifs.” I wrap my arms around her and tuck my fingertips in the back pockets of the tiny shorts, since that’s all that will fit in there. “You’re crazy if you think that was a one-night thing. I haven’t even shown you my best moves yet.” Bending so that I can reach her better, I kiss the very corner of her mouth, smiling when she turns into it. “I’m not askin’ you to change your name, Sugar. I’m not askin’ for more than to be the one you call when you wanna have a little fun. Want you to be the trouble I can get into.”

She still doesn’t look convinced. I’ll have to work on that today because now that I’ve had a taste of Miss Addy Mae Masterson, I want more. “Let’s go, Sug. If we don’t get out of here now, we won’t be getting out of here at all.” I waggle my eyebrows at her and release her so she can get her things. “Where did you have in mind?” Addy asks as she slips on her sunglasses. “There’s a bunch of shops she loves downtown.” “Here downtown?” she asks, surprised. “No. Georgetown.” “Oh, me too. I can stop at a couple of my favorites while we’re there.” “We’ll see,” I tease, pulling my own shades on as we head to the parking garage.

T

he ride back to Georgetown is done with Addy on the phone handling some business at the recording studio with another of their clients. I guess I didn’t realize how much she actually handles there. As I’m pulling onto Eighth Street, she’s finally slipping her phone into her purse. “Everything okay?” “Yes. I’m sorry about that. We signed this new band just recently. All girls, totally awesome. You would not believe how many people in the industry give them shit. All the time,” Addy says, her aggravation apparent. “How so?” “Just any way that they can because they’re women.” “Wow. So what can you do for them from here?” “Not much. They’re actually on tour right now. They’re on their way to Canada for a few shows. The crew I hired to accompany them is basically trying to call the shots because they’re just women, and clearly these guys don’t know how to deal with them being in charge.” She puffs out a breath in irritation. “And that isn’t going to fly. I’m going to send Arrow and Lawson to handle it I think. People will see those two goons and run the opposite direction.” She laughs. “We can go back to your office if you need to work,” I offer. I say “we” because watching her like this is hot as hell. She’s in her element. It reminds me of that first day I met her and she took not an ounce of shit from me. If I wasn’t so bitter about the whole label thing and hungover from the night before, I’m pretty sure I would have tried convincing her to come home with me that very day. “No. No. That’s what cellphones are for. As long as you don’t mind it if I have to take another call.” Addy glances over with a hopeful face. Giving her a sly grin I reach for her hand and place it on the bulge biting into my zipper. “You take all the work calls you want. Hearin’ you all fired up has me feelin’ a certain way.”

“Does it now?” Loosened up and a little less “what iffy” than she was at her place, she gives my cock a firm squeeze, and a rub for good measure, making me groan. “You keep that up and I’m gonna take you home and let you be in charge of me for a while.” I’ve half a mind to drive away right now. I can get my mama something another time. Addy must not be as lust-addled as I am right now though. “As nice as that sounds, it’s time to shop.” She hops out of the truck like she didn’t just have her hand on my dick and stands there grinning at me like all innocent like. Leaning across the center console, I look over my sunglasses at her. “Now you know good and well that you have me harder than a diamond cutting glass and you’re gonna just stand out there smilin’ at me?” Smile wide, she gives a little curtsy and shuts the door. “You’re meaner than you look, Addy Mae,” I call out. Getting out I do my best to adjust myself without drawing much attention and round the truck to where she stands. “So, where first, mean girl?” I ask, taking her hand and waiting to see what direction we’re going to be headed. When she tries to disentangle her fingers from mine, I hold tighter. My brows drawn, I chide, “Oh, it’s okay for you to put your hands on my cock but not for me to hold yours in public?” I don’t even know why I’m making a big deal of it, but I’m all in now. Jenny used to always give me shit for my lack of PDA. With Addy, a woman I’ve known for a few weeks, I’m acting like a school boy with a crush. “It’s not that, I just…I don’t know.” “Do we need to have another talk? You using me for my body, Addy Mae?” I pretend to act hurt. “Oh my God.” She laughs. “I’m just trying not to make this more than it is, and you make it hard with simple things like this. Sweet things. “ With a shrug of her shoulders, she looks over past me, at her feet, across the street. Anywhere but at me. And still again I don’t know why I’m pushing this. I should be happier than a pig in shit that she doesn’t want more. But it bothers me. All my life I spent giving women as little of me as possible because they always wanted so much more than I was willing to give, and here I’m the one pressing for more even when I made it clear I didn’t want anything but a little fun. Little trouble. Somehow I’m giving her hell for not holding my hand. I’m not going to look too deeply into the why’s of that. Probably won’t like what I come up with. “You about done?” I ask her once again thinking that this is going to be a frequently asked question. “Fine, give me your damn hand. But seriously, if I get attached, you’ll only have yourself to blame.” She pokes a finger in my chest with mock sternness. I shouldn’t push because I don’t want her attached. But I’m past that. “Trust me, if you get attached, it won’t because I made you hold my hand.” I wink and slide my sunglasses back on my face.

Not wanting to draw attention to us, I try to blend. I don’t look around and my sunglasses help me to not make eye contact with people. Addy must notice. “You know. If you want to be in disguise, you should not wear your typical Beau McCrae uniform of T-shirt and jeans with a baseball cap. I’m totally gonna have you wear a cowboy hat or something next time. Then you really won’t be recognized.” Twisting my hat so it’s backwards, I follow her into a knitting store whispering, “It’s not the hat that gives me away. It’s my buns-of-steel ass.” Addy sputters out a laugh drawing looks from some of the little old ladies milling about. “Shhh, you’re gonna get us noticed.” She straightens, “Sorry.” “So you knit?” I ask, curious as I glance around the store filled with blankets and booties and sweaters, hats, stuffed animals, you name it. “Oh God no. I just love the stuff in here. Honestly, I’m the most uncreative person on the planet.” She shrugs. “I can’t sing or play an instrument or draw or make things. I’m good at other things, just nothing that includes creativity.” “Oh, you’re good at one thing for sure,” I say softly enough for only her to hear. “You’re trouble, you know that?” I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth and try not to laugh. “Does your mom knit?” “No. I don’t think she can sit still long enough.” “I believe that. Does she drink tea? They have great teas here. You can make her up a little basket.” At my blank look she says, “I’ll help you make a basket.” “That’s what I needed to hear, Sugar.” “Just don’t tell her it’s from me. She might donate it to the church like she did her car money.” We both laugh because I can’t deny it. “How did you find this place?” I ask her. It’s pretty unique. “Well, I went to Canada to visit Willow and she’s obsessed with this little place there called Spun which is a bakery, bookstore, and yarn store that also offers classes and stuff. I fell in love with it and started looking for something similar nearby and this is what I found.” I nod and point to a purple shawl thing. “How about that?” “It’s beautiful and it’s light, so she can wear it whenever,” she says, brushing a hand over the pretty scarf. “I think she’ll really like it. Okay, now go pick some tea so we can get out of here. I think I’m growin’ a vagina.”

A

n hour and a half and three more stores later, we have some pretty cool stuff for my mama and for Addy. “Let’s drop this stuff in the truck and get some food,” I suggest. Shopping will apparently make a man hungry. “Oooh, yes. And then maybe ice cream at Scoops.” “We might could do that.” I chuckle at her excitement. Once the bags are locked in the truck, we take off walking down the street, hand in hand. A gentle breeze blowing around us catches Addy’s long hair, blowing it across her face and tickling my arm from time to time. Still doing my best not to make eye contact with anyone, I keep my focus on her as much as walking will allow. That’s all I need. Fall flat on my face because I can’t keep my eyes off Addy and her tits teasing me with every step she takes with their slight jiggle and sway. “Anywhere you want to go?” she interrupts my dirty musings. “Up to you since I dragged you along with me.” “Why don’t we head over to Austin Avenue and go to Wildfire. Which by the way happens to be the name of that all-girls band I was telling you about. Seems fittin’, right?” The whole while she’s talking I’m watching her profile. She doesn’t even realize how gorgeous she is. Just like this. Hair blowing on the breeze, dressed in a simple top and shorts. I’m not even sure if she has makeup on. If she does it’s not so you’d notice. I stop walking, reeling her back into me when she keeps going a handful of steps. There is no way I’m going to make it through dinner without getting my hands on her. My lips. What I really want I can’t have in public, so this will have to do. Ever since I got some of Addy Mae Masterson the other night, I feel a little addicted to the taste of her sweet, sinful sugar. Maybe I should be worried about getting attached. Not that it’s ever been a problem before. Leaning against the brick wall of the storefront behind me, I give another tug, bringing her flush against me. Addy looks up at me questioningly. “What’s the matter? Did someone recognize you?” Her tone is hushed, as she conspicuously glances around, thinking she’s being sly. “Nope. I’ve just gone long enough and you’ve been teasin’ me something fierce with these shorts.” Tugging on the hem of the frayed denim, I look down into her upturned face, wishing I could see what was behind those sunglasses. I’m going all on body language right now, and the way she clutches at my T-shirt and leans into me, I’m certain we’re on the same you-better-kiss-me-like-you-mean-it page. I cup her ass and lift her off her feet so that she has to hold onto me. Hands snaking over my shoulders and into the hair at my nape, she’s the one smiling down on me now. “Now who’s drawing attention?” “Sugar, I don’t care who’s watchin’. They just better hope that I can keep some control and not strip you down in the middle of downtown Georgetown.” With her hair hanging around us in a curtain, she smiles, lowering her lips to mine for

a soft lingering press of a kiss, quick flash of tongue. Just the tiniest taste. Just enough to leave me wanting so much more. She’s playing with me now. “I’m pretty sure you can control yourself until you get me back to my place.” “Your place? No, ma’am, that would take a saint. You should know by now, I’m no saint, Sugar. I’m a sinner. The best kind though.” “Then you better take me to church, Beau.”

18

ADDY

B

eau growls into my mouth and puts me back down onto to my feet.

“Let’s go, Sugar.” He tugs my hand so that I’m following behind him. His long strides eat up the pavement as I damn near jog to keep pace. “Beau, if you don’t slow down you’re gonna pull my arm out of socket,” I laugh. “I’m sorry. You gave me the green light and now all I can see is the finish line, and it’s so damn hot.” He grins down at me, slowing to a more normal speed. Once at the truck, Beau unlocks my door and helps me in, giving my ass a caressing pat when he boosts me up. The man is incorrigible, and he sure does love my ass. Smiling at the thought, I settle into my seat, fastening my buckle as I wait for him to get in. An idea forms, since torturing Beau is so much fun. He gets in and makes quick work of getting us out of our parking spot and on the road. Radio plays softly in the background. The trip to his place from here isn’t long, and I want to put my plan into motion before we make it too far, before I lose my damn nerve. Nonchalantly, I unclip my seatbelt and lift the center console, sliding over to tuck myself in right next to him. “Whatcha doin’ over here, Sugar?” he asks, glancing at me before turning his attention back to the road and the big old tractor he’s now stuck behind. “Oh, nothin’ much.” I smile coyly, running my palm down his thigh to cup him through his jeans. He’s already half hard. Again the thought that I can excite him without doing much at all is a heady aphrodisiac. “There you go again wantin’ me just for my body. Gotta strong arm you into holdin’ my hand, but you’ll hold onto my dick.” He cracks a smile and widens his legs as much as he can in the cab of the truck. “Go ahead and use me, Sugar.” Sugar. I never thought endearments could be sexy, but Beau has a way of making it just that. My gaze is on the side of his face as I slip his button free and carefully slide down his zipper, watching his expression soften in desire. This Beau is just as dangerous as the one who wants to hold my hand. Seeing him open and vulnerable to my touch makes me feel powerful and that’s something I’m not used to feeling with a man. In my office, yes. With a man, never. With that in mind, eyes still fixed on him, I slide him out of his boxer briefs, stroking over the satiny skin covering the hardness beneath. Bolder by the second, I reposition

myself, easing myself down so that I can take him into my mouth. The moment I slip the head of his cock past my lips, he hisses out a litany of curses. Smiling around him, I swallow as much of his length as I can. On my knees, I hold my hair to the side with one hand, the other working in tandem with my mouth. The sounds coming from Beau are all the encouragement I need. My rhythm is thrown off when I feel his roughened palm slide over my shoulder, pulling my tank up as he does, tracing the bumps in my spine then slipping his hand into the back of my shorts to palm my ass. I moan appreciatively when he gently runs a finger through my ass cheeks, feathering over my sweet spots. Taking him even deeper, he gives a thrust, testing my boundaries. I’m coming to find I don’t have any with Beau and if his dick weren’t in my mouth that might could worry me. But not right now. Right now I’m reveling in the taste of him on my tongue. His fingers playing with my ass, and the heady scent of want and sex in the cab of the truck. I pull my mouth off him with every intention of asking him to pull off into a field somewhere and fuck me when he slowly pulls his hand from me. “Addy, I’m gonna need you to not pick your head up and very slowly put my cock away.” As soon as he says it, of course my head flies up and I look out the back window just in time to see the flashing lights of the cop car. Gone is all my brazen wantonness of just a second before. Now I’m in straight panic mode. “Oh my God, I’m going to jail for prostitution!” I wail, scrambling back into my seat to buckle up. “No, you aren’t. I’m not paying you to give me road head. Lewd and lascivious conduct, maybe,” he says grinning at me while he calmly tucks himself in and pulls to the shoulder of the road all in one smooth maneuver. Soon as the truck rocks to a stop, he makes quick work of his fly. A knowing smirk still playing on his lips. “Beau! This isn’t funny. I cannot go to prison! I’m too naïve. I’m the preacher’s daughter, for mercy’s sake! They’ll make me their bitch.” I’m near hysterics now as the officer taps on the window. Beau can’t even pretend to keep a straight face. “Sugar, just calm down, I’ll handle this.” “‘Calm down’ says the famous guy,” I mutter under my breath. He rolls down the window chuckling the whole time. “Hey there, Sheriff, h—” “I was looking for my contact!” I blurt, pointing like a maniac at my eye. Beau sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth, snorting out a little laugh while the stern-looking Sheriff silently deadpans me and then flips his attention back to Beau. “Beau, thought that was you. Heard you were in town. Didn’t think I’d bump into you quite this way, though I shoulda known. This isn’t the first or even second time I’ve pulled you over for this kind of…mischief.” Oh lovely. Now I’m a Beau ho. “Give your parents my best, tell ‘em I’ll see them at church on Sunday. And Beau, pay

better attention to the road. “ He shifts his attention to me and gives me the obligatory hat tip and disapproving “ma’am” before heading back to his cruiser. The moment he pulls out to pass us, I punch Beau right in his arm which is a mistake because the thing is like granite.

W

e pull through the ranch entrance in silence, me mortified and him trying not to laugh. It’s what I get for trying to be daring. I’ve never in my life given as Beau called it “road head,” and the chances of it ever happening again are slim to none. Just as we’re passing his parents’ house he slows. “Reckon we should stop in and say hi to my mama?” The laughter in his voice is unmistakable. “You’re not even funny, you know that, right?” I huff. Once we pull into his gravel drive, I have half a mind to tell him to just take me home but I know the chances of that happening are as slim as the chances of the road head thing. I didn’t really want to go home anyway, but I would love to be a little less embarrassed. Helping him grab the shopping bags, I follow behind him into the house. “You hungry? We never did get to eat. I don’t even know if I have anything other than some watermelon and cereal. I haven’t been to the store,” he calls as he drops the bags in the guest bedroom and comes back to where I’m standing in the kitchen. I’m suddenly a little awkward with him again and he is definitely not. He invades my space as I lean against the counter, my hands gripping the edge behind me and him bracing his own hands on either side of mine, legs spread wide so that I’m positioned in between them. I want him in my space. All of my spaces actually. So I’m glad he has no reservations. Confused as hell by it, but still glad. “So food or sex first? Either way I need to eat.” His grin is roguish and full of promise. “What?” I sputter, laughing at his audacity. “Two things that us Texas boys love to eat, pussy and watermelon. And if you do it right, you eat em’ both the same damn way.” “What is it with you Texas boys and watermelon things?” I ask amused, thinking about Stone’s obsession with watermelon candy. Beau just looks at me blankly and asks, “Is that a trick question?” “I don’t think so. “ My soft laugh turns into a surprised yelp when he lifts me and wraps my legs around his waist as he carries me through the house and into his bedroom. The large bed in the center of the room inviting with all of its throw pillows and steel gray duvet. He walks right up to the king-sized bed and places me in the center of it. Straightening and removing my shoes and tiny socks, he removes his own shoes and shirt before kneeling in between my legs, making the bed shift. Reaching for me, he carefully undoes my shorts, peeling them down my legs and tossing them over his shoulder leaving me completely bare from the waist down. “Christ have mercy, Sugar. You gotta stop going out like this without tellin’ me. Better

yet it’s probably best you don’t tell me because I’d never let you leave my side or my bed.” “I wasn’t planning on leaving the house when I got dressed this morning,” I tell him although it wouldn’t have mattered. I go sans panties more often than not. His gaze is fixed on my center, hot like a touch. I can feel the wetness building as he takes his fill, a hand dipped into the front of his pants to stroke over himself. God, this man is sinfully sexy. There’s sexy and then there’s Beau, and he’s on a different level. I have no defenses when it comes to him. They all go up in flames the minute he looks at me, says my name, touches me. I’m so screwed. Every second I spend with him, I’m just setting myself up for the fall. The high will be so damn consuming and wonderful. And the fall…the fall I fear will be shattering. “Get outta your pretty head, Addy. There’s no room for thinkin’ in here. Only feelin’.” Pinning me with a heavy-lidded gaze, he waits for me to agree before he shifts focus. “Only feeling’.” I whisper huskily. Nodding in approval, he lies flat on the bed, putting himself face to face with my pussy. God help me, I should be embarrassed, but I just want his mouth on me. His hands, roughened in the most delicious ways, pass over the skin of my inner thighs, pressing into my flesh, making me open even wider for him. He swipes a tongue through the gathering wetness making me shiver in anticipation. “This is what I want you focused on. My mouth on you. How wet your pussy is. How good I’m gonna make you feel.” Another swipe, followed by a kiss, right on my clit. “Those are the things I want fillin’ your head.” He looks up at me, face framed by my thighs, his dark hair already mussed, his hazel eyes filled with a desire I’ll never tire of witnessing. It’s a sight so erotic I wish a could capture it to look back on later. “Only me. Only you. Only this. Right here and now. The rest will keep. This won’t.” I nod, incapable of using words to convey my acceptance and he grins. “Good girl.” Those are the last coherent words before he buries his face in my pussy. Nuzzling into me and leaving open-mouthed kisses in a fiery trail from one thigh to the other, he stops in the center to pay special attention to my clit. His tongue dipping into me over and over before sliding through my slit, nibbling on the tender flesh along the way. Side to side, up and down. There’s not one inch of me he’s not devouring. It’s not long before I’m clawing at his scalp, lacing my fingers through his hair so that I can hold him to me while I come in waves of pleasure all over his face. Shamelessly riding his tongue while his name falls from mine. Skin ablaze, I watch, panting as he kneels, sheathing himself with a condom before sliding into me in one powerful thrust. My eyes close all on their own as I try to decipher the feelings I’m overcome with. The pleasure so intense it’s almost as if I don’t have an outlet for it. It pings through every one of my nerve endings leaving me feeling raw and breathless and reaching for more even as it’s all crashing around me. All too much and not enough and then too much again. I’ve never experienced anything like it and doubt I ever will again. Beau yanks down the front of my tank, taking my bra with it, leaving my tits to bounce

against his hand, tightened nipple rubbing against his palm adding yet another layer of pleasure to my already overstimulated senses. My hips jerk to meet his every thrust, spurring him on as he chases after his own release. When yet another orgasm comes crashing down around me, he waits until I’m riding out the tail end of it then slows his pace to a languid roll of his hips like he’s in no hurry. “I could watch you come all day long, Sugar. It’s the only time you allow yourself to be completely free.” I moan out my pleasure when he takes hold of my exposed breast and uses his grip to gain leverage as he thrusts hard and high. Over and over, my nipple caught between his thumb and forefinger. I’ve never been a screamer, but when Beau presses my legs back even farther, tossing my legs over his shoulders, he’s given himself VIP access to my elusive G-spot and he works it over with bruising accuracy. Pleasure-pain has stars exploding behind my closed eyelids and me screaming at the top of my lungs, with zero fucks given about who might hear. “Beau. Oh God, right there. Fuck me right there. Don’t fuckin’ stop.” I have no filter or volume control and it’s all his fault. I topple over the edge yet again, hurtling into the most intense pleasure, and watch in satisfaction as he follows, muttering out his own brand of filth, an “Addy” slipped in every now and again, making me smile. Collapsing on top of me, he’s careful to keep his weight on his forearms so he doesn’t crush me, letting us both come down from that sexual euphoria. Once we’re breathing evenly instead of panting, he raises himself back and smirks. “That’s what I like to call the watermelon crawl,” he teases in an exaggerated drawl. “You’ll never look at it the same again. All you’ll be able to imagine is me eating your pussy like it was a slice of the juiciest, tastiest, ripest watermelon at the picnic.” Oh God. He’s likening my pussy to a watermelon and I’m not even mad about it. In fact, I’m excited about the next time he wants to let his watermelon-eating country boy shine.

19

BEAU

“I ’m on my way over there now. I just have to stop by the label right quick. I won’t

be late.” Disconnecting the phone, I pull into the garage at Hard Candy. My brother is convinced I’ll miss mama’s birthday. I’ve no clue why. The attendant waves me in, recognizing my truck now, and I whip in next to Addy’s Jeep, smiling to myself at the thought of seeing her. She’s not supposed to be in today. Something about a meeting with someone in Dallas. Grabbing the papers Jimmy asked me to sign and bring to Nelle, I walk to the elevators and ride it straight to the 18th floor. When I walk down the hall, I find Nelle’s desk empty which is totally unlike her. She doesn’t leave her post for anything. I put the papers down and jot a little note on her sticky pad so she can find them, then walk over to Addy’s office. I’m just about to knock when I hear my name. “So you’re spending real time with Beau then, not just label stuff?” a voice asks. I’m pretty sure it’s Willow by the tone—she’s not my biggest fan. Scarlet’s voice I would recognize and she is a fan. “Not really.” That’s all Addy offers up, then, “Okay, a few times.” “I hope you know what you’re doing. I would hate to see him hurt you the way Calvin did. You have a thing for the bad boys…” “Hello pot…” Addy interrupts, laughing. “Which is why I’m telling you. You’re a lot like me, and everything might be great now, but it wasn’t for a long time because I loved the ultimate rebel. Trouble through and through. But it was exciting. So I get it. They’re easy to fall in love with.” “Whoa whoa. Who said anything about love?” I should walk away and let the girls carry on, but I’m rooted to the spot. “I know. But it’s only a matter of time if you’re spending time with him, and let’s be real. You don’t spend time with a man like Beau McCrae and not sleep with him.” Well, she’s right about that. “I’m a lady and would never kiss and tell,” Addy says, coyly. “You just did,” Willow snickers.

“Whatever.” “I would never tell you what to do or who to screw—if that were the case I would have stepped in over Calvin.” They both have a laugh at that. “I just want you to be careful, ya know? Break ups with rock stars, or country stars as it were, aren’t as easy as just your regular Joe. You still have to see them splashed across the magazine covers when you’re just trying to buy your gallons of ice cream. With other women, on TV, the radio. The list is endless. Hell, look at me, I moved to another damn country to get away from my breakup.” “We both know that’s not exactly how it went down, and on top of that, we aren’t dating. Just having really great, I mean, really really great sex.” A shit-eating grin slides across my mouth. I’ll have to make sure to put in some extra effort next time I get her naked for that one. Deciding that I’ve invaded their girl talk enough, I turn to go when I hear Willow say, “That’s all good and fine, but are you spending any time with anyone else? Because if you’re not, you’re in danger of falling head over heels for the bad boy of country music and nobody would blame you. But he has a reputation for a reason.” Suddenly I’m not sure how much I like Willow. “You see, that’s another thing, I don’t think that he’s what they make him out to be. Yes, he’s been a little wild in the past, and he’s cocky and all that, but he’s so much more. You should see him with his mama, and he’s sweet to me. Funny as all hell and I haven’t had to get on him about anything we were worried about. No benders or women on the tour bus. He’s done everything I’ve asked of him with little to no complaint. I just…I just think that he’s not exactly what they paint him out to be. I think that they have him wrong and I see the real him.” “Oh, honey. You’ve got it bad.” Hearing Addy say those things about me, giving me credit where I don’t deserve it, makes me feel sick. Not only did I just stand here and invade her privacy, but I have her believing I’m a better man than I am. I promised I wouldn’t let her get attached, but then I went ahead and laid the ground work for her. As quietly as I can, I turn and go the way I came, a bitter taste in my mouth. Leave it to me to fuck with the good girl. Again. Mama, open Beau’s next. Maybe then he’ll quit poutin’ over there,” my “H ere, brother says, handing my mom her birthday gift, the one Addy put together for me. “Beau, this is so lovely, darlin’. Y’all didn’t have to go to so much trouble,” she gushes. Same thing every year, and every year we dote on her, always making a big fuss since she’s lived without all the frills and pretty things most women who don’t live on a ranch with a bunch of boys have. “Well, it’s not a car that you can return, but I think you’ll like it anyhow.” I crack a smile, doing my best to not get stuck in my thoughts and ruin the night for her. “Oh hush. I didn’t need all those bells and whistles. Just power locks and windows will do me,” she says for the hundredth time since the day I surprised her with it. She

gasps when she unfolds the tissue paper Addy wrapped the shawl in. “This is just gorgeous. Oh, I can’t wait to wear it to church on Sunday. I have the perfect dress to go with it.” She puts it aside, her smile bright as the sun over the simple gift. Making her way through the other things in the basket and fawning over each one, she places them all back in, still smiling. “Those ladies did an excellent job on wrapping and arranging this basket,” she admires. Here we go. “Actually, Addy did it.” I wait all of four seconds for that to sink in—I counted. “My my. Must be serious then?” It’s posed as an innocent question, but by the look on her face you’d think I just kicked her puppy. “Mama,” Sealy says in a warning tone. “What? I’m just asking a question is all.” “Jo, leave the boy alone. He’s kept his behind out of trouble these last few weeks for the first time since he was born. Jenny, as much as I adored the girl, was never able to do that.” And that’s my cue. “I have to get up early to move the cattle,” I say as if my brother and dad don’t have to as well. I wave at my dad feeling like I should apologize for the fight he just got himself into on my behalf. With a plastered-on smile, I buss a kiss to my mama’s cheek. “Happy birthday, Mama. I’m glad you liked your presents.” “Thank you, baby,” she says then goes back to glaring at my dad. Sealy must see it too because he follows behind me with his kisses and goodbyes and jumps into my truck. “Man, is she gonna give him what for,” he says with a grimace. “I know it. You shoulda stayed and helped him out,” I suggest. “He’s a big boy. He can handle himself.” I grunt in agreement. He’s quiet for a few beats. “So you gonna tell me what your deal is tonight?” “Don’t have a deal.” “You kiss your mama with that lyin’ mouth?” Sealy tsks. “What’s on your mind, brother? Is it Addy? Because I gotta tell ya, I’ll take her off your hands for you if—” “Shut up, Sealy,” not giving him a chance to say something to make me hit him. “Ahhh, so it is Addy. Girl that fine is bound to get you all twisted up.” “Ain’t that the truth,” I huff out. Before long, we’re in front of Sealy’s place. “I’ll go grab us some beers.” I nod and get out of the truck and go around back to drop the tailgate. Out here in the country, a man has something eatin’ at him you either talk it out with a fishing pole in your hand or with your boots swinging from the back of his truck or a water tower, and tonight I don’t much feel like climbing. Eyes turned skyward, I let the quiet of the night and the

shine from the stars help me find a little peace. Overhearing Addy and Willow today just complicated the hell out of everything. Hearing the screen door clap shut, I look up to see my brother headed my way with a beat up boombox-style radio I recognized from when we were teenagers and a chest cooler big enough to hold a case or more of beer. “It’s gonna be one of those nights, huh?” I laugh. “I figure you could use a good drunk. You’ve been out here on the ranch lying low for a while now. And we can’t drink without sad country songs.” “That I could. And you’re right about that.” Grabbing the radio from him, I fiddle with the dial while he slides the cooler into the bed and hops up to sit beside me. Rummaging in the ice, he cracks the top on two beers, handing me one just as I settle on a station and set the boombox on the cooler. “Okay, now we’re ready. Beau McCrae, tell your little brother all about it,” Sealy teases. For a minute I don’t answer, just stare out and watch the fireflies light up around us, not knowing where to start or how much I even want to tell him tonight. My beer dangling between my legs, I raise it to my lips to take a swig, buying more time. Finally accepting defeat, I give in. “I overheard Addy talking to her friend about me today.” Sealy sips his beer and waits for me to continue. “Willow, her friend and one of the partners at the label wants for her to stay away from me for the most part.” “Addy’s a big girl. She can make up her own mind,” he interjects a little testily. “I know it. But Willow was right about most of it. I have a reputation and I come by it honestly for the most part. I mean, I’ve done the things they’ve said. All those gossip magazines and rag mags aren’t makin’ shit up most days. I do a damn good job of makin’ their job easy.” The both of us laugh at that. “I’m not gonna say you’re a saint, because I would be lyin’, but not all of what they say is true. And if it is, they’re distorting it to fit their needs.” “Maybe.” Tossing the empty bottle into the cooler, I pull out another. “Maybe not. But Addy came to my defense. Thinks I’m a good guy and that they paint me in an unfair light.” Remembering back on what she said, I feel my gut churn. I don’t deserve her vote of confidence, her trust. I don’t want to be that guy for her. People end up expecting more out of me than I’m capable of giving. “She gives me too much credit.” “I think she’s right and it’s you who doesn’t give yourself enough credit.” My brother is my biggest fan in life. Always in my corner defending me to anyone who will listen. He’s a lot like Jenny in that aspect. But with Sealy it’s because I’m his brother and he’ll be damned if he’ll let anyone talk shit on me. With Jenny it was always about appearances and blowback. “Well, regardless of what you think, I don’t deserve that kind of blind faith from her.” Swallowing back the last of my beer, I grab another one, ignoring how easy they’re going

down. “It’s my own fault though. I pushed her to let go with me.” “Any idea why?” I’m not sure if he’s using some kind of reverse psychology on me or what, but I answer anyway. “Because she makes it easy to be me. She couldn’t give two shits about all that fame and fortune bullshit most girls do. She doesn’t treat me like Beau McCrae, country music’s bad boy. She treats me like Beau McCrae ranch hand from Georgetown, Texas.” I shake my head and take a deep pull from the bottle. “I reckon I like it and want her to keep doin’ it, so I pushed when she’d pull knowing I didn’t really want more but not able to help myself.” “So now what’s the problem? You’re scared? You don’t want to be committed? What?” “I’m not scared. I’m just sick of being something I’m not. Someone I’m not. I don’t want to be in another relationship I have to constantly fight my way out of.” I’ve never admitted that to anybody—hell, I’ve never admitted it to myself. “Do you think you’d have to? You just said yourself that Addy lets you be you,” Sealy reminds as he hands me beer number four. I must look like I could use it. “Doesn’t matter.” I tip the bottle to my mouth. “So what are ya gonna do?” “Nothing. Reckon my true colors will shine through before long. They always do.” “I think you’re wrong about all of it.” Sealy shakes his head at me. “You always were hard on yourself.” “It’s not me I’m hard on. It’s that loving me is hard on everyone around me.” My brother’s voice is pitched low when he says, “Addy isn’t Jenny, Beau.” “I know it. But I’m still me.”

20

ADDY

T

he morning has been pure hell. Everything that could go wrong has. It’s probably a good thing that I’m going out of town for a few days for the label. My thoughts are constantly wandering to Beau and how I feel about him in such a short time. I just need to get away from everyone and clear my head, I think. So lost in my thoughts, it’s gotten to the point where I told Nelle I’m going home before the whole damn building comes tumbling down. Now two hours later I’m covered in sweat after running three miles around Lady Bird Lake. If it weren’t so damn hot I’d gladly go three more. Pulling the buds from my ears as I walk into my building, I forgo the elevator and hit the stairs. Might as well get all the steps in I can. The moment I walk into my apartment, the phone starts ringing. I pick it up off the counter and am barely able to suppress a groan when I see that it’s Jimmy Don. I’m sure he wants to know if I’m going to the concert tonight. I’ve been avoiding them both for a few days now after my talk with Willow. Plus, Beau hasn’t really gone out of his way to call me either. So I’ve just been working on more studio time and publicity. I’ve had Nelle send them the details so that I didn’t have to. I needed to put just a bit of space between myself and Beau. Before I think on that for too long, I answer the phone. “Hey, Jimmy Don.” With my head in the fridge I yank out a cold water and twist the cap, drinking deeply. “I know you’re probably getting tired of this, but I need a favor. I was supposed to be at the school concert with Beau, but there’s an emergency with one of my other clients that I can’t delegate. I just left there and now I’m walking through the airport right this minute, hopping a plane to Nashville. Is there any way you can go?” At my silence he continues hurriedly, “Addy, someone has to be there to represent him.” He’s right. I just hadn’t planned on it being me. “Of course. What time do I need to be there?” I look at the clock on the microwave hoping I have time to shower. Jimmy Don sighs in relief. “It starts at seven. You’ll have to be there at about six to make sure everything is set up and that Beau is in place.” In place? Where the hell would he be? Cutting through my thoughts, Jimmy goes on, “I’m going to send Beau’s brother Sealy to come get you so that you don’t have any problems getting onto the field. Nice fella—” “I know, we’ve met. He did the build with us, remember?” I’m already walking into the bathroom and stripping down. I don’t have a ton of time.

“Oh, that’s right. Good. That makes it easier. I’m texting him your address now. You’re still in the same apartments over by Lady Bird, right?” “Yeah, the penthouse now though.” I’m standing at the opening to my shower, ready to hang up. “He’ll be there around four I’m guessing. It’ll take some time to get out of downtown on a Friday night.” “That’s fine. Good luck with whatever you have going on. I’ll take care of everything.” “I owe ya, darlin’.” “Yeah, yeah. Safe travels.” I disconnect and put the phone on the counter before jumping into the shower. I have no time at all to wash this sweat or the feelings of excitement over seeing Beau again away. Good thing Willow’s not here to call me out on it.

F

orty-five minutes later and Sealy is helping me into his truck. Buckled up and heading into Georgetown, I turn to him. “Thanks for coming to get me, I could’ve driven.” “This was easier. I have your little badge thing to get you onto the field where they have the stage set up. They’re taking it pretty seriously down there. You’d think Beau was George Strait or somethin’ the way they’re actin.’“ He chuckles, switching lanes. “Who’s there with him now? Jimmy Don had this all set up on his own. I honestly don’t even know what’s what,” I admit, hating that feeling of not being in control. Sealy reaches for a folder on the dash and hands it to me. “He’s got his boys with him and my parents. Everything you need is in there. Jimmy said you’d want it.” I sigh relieved making him laugh at me. “Control issues, darlin‘?” “Just a bit.” I open the portfolio and am so happy to see that Jimmy Don is as organized as I am. Scanning over it quickly, I’m confident that he’s covered all the bases. Stage and light rental, security, house band, breakdown, and clean up. Everything. Damn, he’s good. Once we hit the city limits, we’re stuck in traffic. “Where in the world did this come from?” I mutter. “Beau. They’re all waitin’ to get into the parking lot of the school,” Sealy says, pointing ahead to where the police are directing traffic. Glancing at my watch, I ask, “Are we gonna be able to get in there on time?” He grins a devilish grin so like his brother’s. “I’ve got us covered.” Pressing the call button on the steering wheel of his massive truck, the cab is filled with ringing. “Sealy? Where you at, buddy?” “Coming up on the school now, stuck back a ways though.”

“Ride the shoulder to the entrance. They stop you, tell ‘em I said it was fine.” “Thanks, Davey. See you in a few.” He disconnects and cranks the truck out of traffic and starts driving down the side of the road. People honking and cussing as we pass. “We’re gonna get lynched.” He smiles. “Probably.” I’m finally able to see the school when a police officer waves Sealy down, and I start chanting to myself “Please don’t let it be the Sheriff” over and over. “Boy, what in the hell do you think you’re doin‘?” “Sealy McCrae, sir. Davey’s my cousin, he’s waiting for me up at the entrance.” I lean past him, “We’re with the band.” I don’t know why I said that. Sealy swivels his head my way, mirth swimming in his eyes. The older officer just shakes his head like we’re a lost cause. “Go on then. Davey’s right up thatta way.” “Thank you.” We both say as Sealy continues on. “We’re with the band?” He tries to smother his laugh but can’t. “Smooth, Addy Mae. Reaaaal smooth.” “Shut up!” I laugh. “I have a problem with authority figures, I go into panic mode. Just ask your brother.” I think about that for a second and recant, “On second thought, do not ask him anything.” Sealy throws his head back and laughs richly. “Oh, you know I’m asking now. I can just imagine.” Navigating the crowd in the lot he parks the dually next to Beau’s tour bus and hurries out to help me. “Come on, sis. I’m sure my parents are drivin’ him crazy by now.” I slip the badge around my neck and slide the portfolio from Jimmy Don under my arm, following after Sealy. About as tall as Beau, his strides somehow aren’t as long making it easier for me to keep up. The crowd shifts and I fall a bit behind. Sealy reaches back and grabs hold of my hand and pulls me through the crowd with him. We’re stopped at the stage by three huge guys sporting security shirts and cowboy hats similar to Sealy’s. Flashing our badges they let us through, smiling at me briefly before going back to looking like they’d kill anyone dumb enough to try to get past them. As soon as we’re through, I see Beau standing with his mama and dad. My heart doubles in time as I take a second to appreciate the fine man he is. Black baseball cap pulled low shields the top portion of his face from me, but I love that he hasn’t shaved in a few days and is sportin’ a beard that on him looks all kinds of right. I’ve never met a man who could be handsome in so many ways. But Beau could. There’s not a woman alive who isn’t beside herself over the arms this man has. Showcased tonight in his black cutoff shirt. I let my gaze wander lower, hovering over his butt in his whitewashed denim, all the way down to his black lace-up boots. And then up again. Because, damn. Only this time when I get to his face I notice two things. One: the black baseball cap he’s wearing is my Arrow’s hat that I must have left at his place. And two: he’s looking right at me and

therefore saw me ogling him. The smirk splitting his lips confirms it. Unfortunately the frown on his mama’s means she also caught me. And then his smirk turns into a frown that mirrors his mama’s, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Confused, I see that his gaze is on mine and Sealy’s still-locked hands. He better not be acting jealous over something like that. Dropping Sealy’s hand, I walk over to the small group. “Hey y’all.” I smile a little self-consciously. Nobody looks particularly pleased to see me other than Mr. McCrae, and that’s pushing it because he’s a pretty even-keeled guy. “Mrs. McCrae, happy belated birthday.” “Thank you,” she says. And then I notice her husband give her a small nudge. “And thank you for your help picking my gifts out. Everythin’ was lovely.” That had to be painful for her. It sure does look like it was. Bless her heart. “You are so welcome. We had a lot of fun.” Beau lets out a little snort, and I glare at him. Just then someone from the crew comes over to ask Beau if he’s ready to do a sound check. I excuse myself to go with to make sure everything is as it should be. This has always been one of my favorite parts of the job. I love the energy of a live show, making sure all the cogs are in working order so everything runs smoothly. “You don’t have to be over here you know, Addy. You can go hang out with Sealy if you want,” he says blandly. So he is jealous. “Why, Beau McCrae I do believe you’re jealous.” I can’t help but tease him. It’s about damn time I made him lose his head a little since it always seems to be me. He’s standing there, arms crossed over his chest looking out over the field looking hotter than the hot summer night. “Not jealous, Sugar. Just never did like to share with anyone. Especially my little brother.” His gaze lands on me for the briefest of moments before he goes back to looking out at the stadium transformed into a concert venue. He’s not his usual flirty, smooth Beau McCrae self. I try not to dwell on it or let it bother me too much. Maybe this is how he is before a live show? Probably nerves and all that. “I’m not big on sharin’ either, so you don’t have to worry about that,” I try to reassure him. He gives a barely noticeable nod, not saying anything. Okay, I don’t like this Beau much. Note to self to not come to any more of his shows in a work capacity. After everything checks out with the sound, I leave Beau to get ready while I go and touch base with the rest of the crew, making sure they’re in place and aware of what their job entails today. And staying far away from Beau’s ornery ass. I manage to keep myself busy until it’s time for him to go on. I walk over to the left wing of the stage where he’s drinking a bottle of water, the corded muscles in his throat making me want to run my tongue down them. So much for Willow being my voice of reason. I can’t remember a single reason why I shouldn’t fall for Beau. Even if he’s not himself today. He’s standing with the band that travels with him, his bass player the only constant, the rest of them rotating out from what Jimmy Don and Stone explained to me. His parents are

sitting in the other wing on lawn chairs, Sealy standing behind them smiling at something their dad is saying. I love that they’re all here for him. Deciding that I’ve avoided him long enough, I go and stand beside him, silently slipping my hand in his in an effort to comfort him, soothe whatever storm he has brewing. He glances down at me and I see that there’s something going on behind those pretty hazel eyes of his. Now’s not the time to push though. I just want to show him that I can be there for him without asking for anything in return. The stadium is so loud with the school’s very own a capella group opening up for Beau, there’s no use trying to talk to him right now anyhow. We stand and listen to the group do a mashup of current pop and country songs, and when they finish they file off stage to ear-piercing applause. “They’re so good!” I shout. Just to engage him. He nods in agreement, and yells, “They didn’t have anything that cool when I went here.” Just a few words but I’ll take them. The music director, who is acting as emcee tonight, takes the stage adjusting the mic. “Thank you so much to Pitch Please.” I can’t help but snicker at that. “I don’t want to keep y’all waitin’ any longer. Heck, I don’t want to wait any longer. Please welcome to the stage Georgetown’s very own Beau McCrae.” Her final syllables are drowned out by the welcoming roar of the hometown crowd. I’m just about to wish him luck when he takes me by complete surprise. He presses a kiss to my temple and gives my hand a squeeze before letting go and jogging onto the stage, arm raised in the air in greeting, biceps bunching and flexing as he adjusts the mic stand. He gives the band a second to get into position. “Hey now, Georgetown!” he bellows into the mic, a Texas-sized grin on his face. Watching him work the crowd, seeing and hearing how they respond and how that makes me respond, I’m not sure how I ever thought I could fall into bed with him without falling in love with him. I remember back to him telling me that he won’t let me get attached and how even then I knew it was a lie, but I let myself believe it because I wanted to know what it felt like to be wanted by a man like Beau. Not because of his status, but because of him. Even then I was drawn to him. Almost immediately, he launches into an upbeat song, the crowd singing along, jumping up and down as he moves across the stage, pointing and singling out people as he does. His smile is infectious, his energy the type of stuff that should be bottled and sold, and his presence there on stage the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Until he looks my way and winks.

A

fter about an hour he wraps the show up, standing at the edge of the stage singing his last song, taking outstretched phones and snapping selfies with them. The man is a born entertainer. I’ve never seen him play football, but I can’t fathom him being better at anything else. Watching as he strides off stage, sweat glistening across every bit of exposed skin, dampening the front of his tank, I’m about half a second away from becoming a groupie.

The moment he reaches me, I launch myself at him, never once wondering if he’ll catch me or worrying that his parents and his brother are waving and hollering from their side of the stage. When his arms wrap around me, I press my lips to his, my faceswallowing smile not making for much of a kiss. The band walking past us pats him on the back and catcalls. “You were amazing! I can’t believe how amazing you were!” I yell over the crowd losing their ever-loving minds out there. He’s about to say something when the principal steps to the stage and raises his hands to quiet everyone down. Beau lets me slide down the front of him, and all of a sudden what he had to say doesn’t seem so important. Lord have mercy, this man has put a spell on me. I’m convinced. Back on my feet, I move to his side and take his hand, doing my best to give my attention to the man on stage still trying to get the attention of the audience. Once the principal finally has everyone quieted down, he thanks them for being here and tells a little bit about why they’re here and going on about what good the ten-dollar ticket sales were going to do for the school and community, and then he pulls the rug from under me, bringing me back to reality. “And as many of you already know, just a few months ago we lost one of our own. Jenny Holmes was a shining star during her time here.” Beau’s hand tightens around mine, but I’m not sure if it’s meant to reassure me or if he’s looking for an anchor. “Cheerleader, honor student, Prom queen just to name a few memories. In fact, she held court with the man you all came to see tonight. So many of the pictures hanging in our halls are of the two of them from their time here.” I’m standing rigid, staring straight ahead but not actually seeing anything. All of a sudden I’m hyper aware of Beau standing next to me with his hand in mine while people remember the life he had with their golden girl. To everyone who knows Beau, he belongs to Jenny. His mama, all these people standing here with tears in their eyes and sadness marring their faces that just moments ago were beaming with happiness and pride. Then there’s me. The fill-in. The imposter. Just hoping to be something to him one day. Talk about being doused with a bucket of cold water. All that’s missing is a slide show. “Her life will always be celebrated here in Georgetown. And to help us do that, the Women’s Guild has put together a slide show.” The high I was on just moments ago watching Beau perform is nothing compared to the low I feel now.

21

BEAU

A

fucking slideshow. I swear if my mama had anything to do with this or knew about it and let me come into this blindsided I swear I might never forgive her.

Addy has gone to stone beside me. Her hand which was warm and welcoming just a moment ago is now limp and clammy. I can’t even imagine what this must be like for her. She’s been so wonderful tonight, even with me being a dick. After eavesdropping on her and Willow the other day, I’ve tried to distance myself and give her some room to see me for the man I really am and not the one she thinks she can see. Hardest thing I’ve ever had to do is be cold to her when every inch of my being is screaming for me to hold her, kiss her, do whatever I can to make her smile. And now this fucked up situation has me wanting to be anywhere but here, drinking until I get so far gone I can’t remember my own name let alone hers. As the pictures on the big screen flicker one after the other, I can feel Addy pulling further and further away, not so much physically because I still have her small hand tucked in mine, but emotionally, she’s turning into herself. Part of me wants to chase after her and reel her back in, and the other part of me thinks this couldn’t have come at a better time. Before either one of us is more invested than we already are. The crowd oohs and ahhs and cheers as my and Jenny’s faces flash on the big screen. Homecoming, Prom, football games, tailgate parties, bonfires, graduation. Some from college. And someone was even nice enough to offer up pictures of us at my first concert. Me on a high I never wanted to come down from, one I wasn’t sure I’d find after the end of football. And Jenny was right there with me. Just like she always was. What they don’t have a picture of is the fight afterwards, or the one during prom. The football game where I passed more yards that game than any quarterback had in the school’s history and instead of going out and celebrating she insisted we stay in and map out our future and what she saw for us. Because Jenny wasn’t meant to be a rancher’s wife. That was the one thing nobody could deny about Jenny. She had dreams and ambitions too big for this small town. I hang my head, not wanting to look at the memories everyone has a one-sided interpretation of but knowing I can’t just walk away either. I squeeze Addy’s hand but get no response from her. She’s watching the whole thing unfold in front of us like a train wreck. Her pretty face is ashen and set in what can only be described as defeat. Looks like we both fucked around and got our feelings involved.

When the last picture pops up on the screen, I turn to walk away, tugging on Addy’s hand only to come face to face with Jenny’s older brother. “You know, Beau, you’ve done some really low things in your life but this has got to beat all.” “Jeff. I’m not sure what you’re gettin’ at, but I can assure you now is not the time or the place.” I place a hand on the small of Addy’s back, hopeful I’ll be able to lead her away before this turns ugly. Jeff and I have never been on good terms. Can’t say that I even blame him as Jenny’s big brother. “Her. I can’t believe you had the nerve to bring some woman to Jenny’s tribute concert,” he spits out looking at Addy like she is something off the bottom of his shoe. “This was never meant to be a tribute concert, Jeff, and Addy isn’t some woman.” Before I can say more he cuts in. “Typical Beau. My sister is dead from loving you. She forgave your every transgression and what did it get her? Nothing more than a broken heart as a souvenir and a headstone next to my mama. Over and over she turned a blind eye to the man you truly are. But I see it. I see what the magazines have to say. The women you flaunt all over and then drop like they’re trash.” He’s gearing up for a fight, and I’m more than ready. I don’t need anyone to tell me about why Jenny is dead or the type of man I am. “Now wait just a minute. I don’t kno—” “Leave it alone, Addy. He made his mind up about me a long time ago.” Jeff lets out a humorless laugh. “Wasn’t hard, Beau. My sister thought you hung the moon, and all the while you were off chasing your own dreams and every skirt that passed your way.” “You know nothing about our relationship. I never asked for forgiveness, She gave it freely for reasons I won’t stand here and explain to you. Now I understand that you’re hurtin’ and that you hate me, but I won’t have you take that out on Addy.” “Take up for your flavor of the month, Beau. She’s nothing but a poor man’s Jenny.” I take a step forward with intent to lay him flat out in the dirt but Addy pulls me back by the arm. My name soft on her lips. “Addy is a lot of things. A poor man’s anybody isn’t one of them. You’d do best to keep your opinions on that to yourself.” “My sister—” “Your sister wasn’t as innocent in our relationship as you think.” “Just what in the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demands, his chest rising and falling with his angry breathing. “It means I won’t stand here and speak ill of the dead. Not to you. Not to anyone.” Taking Addy by the hand, I pull her in the opposite direction. “Come on, Addy. We’re done here.”

I nearly mow right into my family in my hurry to get the hell away from Jeff before I lay his ass out. Sealy stands there looking madder than one of the bulls he rides. Next to him my mama wrings her hands anxiously. My father is standing tall behind his wife, grasping her shoulders. He nods his head at me in approval, and I feel it all the way to my damn soul. Didn’t realize I needed it ‘til now. Walking past them, my brother reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. I shoot him a look of appreciation and keep moving, practically dragging Addy behind me. I’m not sure where I’m supposed to be, if I’m supposed to be signing autographs or giving speeches or what, but none of that is happening tonight. God, I haven’t been this angry and frustrated in a long while. I’m pissed for Addy, that Jeff thought he could talk about her like that. I’m pissed that I couldn’t just knock him on his ass. I’m so pissed that everyone thought it would be okay to turn this into a damn memorial and drag all this shit to the surface again without saying a fucking word to me. “Fuck!” I shout causing Addy to startle. She doesn’t say anything though. Just lets me lead her through the darkened parking lot to my truck. I parked farther away from everyone else so that I could get out of here without fighting the traffic. Even more glad that I did now seeing as how I’m not fit for socializing. Wrenching open the door on the passenger’s side, I wordlessly lift Addy into the truck and buckle her in. I don’t trust myself to speak right now, and I’m grateful that she doesn’t feel the need to fill the quiet. I shut the door and circle the truck and get in. Firing it up, I go the back way out of the school and head toward Addy’s place, although mine is only a few miles down the road. I don’t want anyone to be able to find me there right now. I don’t want to talk to Sealy or my parents. Especially not my mama if she had anything to do with this shit show tonight. As the truck eats up the road, the mad just builds and builds in the silence of the cab. I glance over at Addy, her hair blowing in the air around her from the rolled down window. She sits quietly, beautiful, lost in her own thoughts. There’s so much I want to say. So much I need to say but can’t right now. “You okay?” I say through the gravel in my throat. She nods. “Are you?” “No,” I answer honestly. “Me either,” she admits after a pause. Thirty minutes later, I’m pulling into the garage under her building. Getting out, I go to help her but she’s already down. I don’t ask if I can come up with her. I just follow behind trying to get my thoughts and emotions in order. Once we’re up in her apartment, I’m ready to just detonate from all the bottled up frustrations and feelings I want no part of. I watch as Addy silently puts her things down on the table, bending to take off the sexy sandals she had on, leaving her in this spaghetti strap one piece thing that’s been driving me insane all night. She walks into her living room, padding over the plush carpeted area to the floor-to-ceiling windows, a side sill decorated with books and candles and her view of Lady Bird Lake.

Tossing my keys on the counter, I go and join her. Standing behind her, I gather her long hair in one hand, kissing the shoulder I’ve just exposed. A slight shiver moves through her when I do it again. Raising my head I meet her gaze in the reflection of the glass. I can see the same hurt and anger there that I’m feeling, right along with the need and desire. Knowing that we don’t need words right now, eyes still on her, I slowly draw the zipper on her romper down. My knuckles brushing over her smooth skin along the way, gliding over the rounded globes of her ass at the end. Taking my hand away, I watch as the top falls from her shoulders and catches on the tips of her bare breasts. Sliding my arm around, I hook my fingers in the neck and yank, the movement making her tits sway gently. I watch as my hand, tan even against her sun-kissed skin, trails down her abdomen, dragging the material with me until I’m cupping her. My cock hard, pressed into her ass, I have to force myself to take the slightest step back. The moment I do, the cotton material falls from her body, pooling at her feet, making it so all she’s wearing now is a smattering of goosebumps and my hand. The reflection doesn’t allow me to see her as clearly as I’d like but that just stimulates the rest of my senses into overdrive. Sight. I can’t drag my eyes from her. Focused on the vision in front of me I watch as my fingers slip through her delicate lips, already slick with her need, then disappear inside her pussy. Sound. The way she sucks in a breath and tries to hide a whimper of pleasure when I twist and thrust deeper this time. The only sound she’s made since we arrived. Smell. Her skin smells of her vanilla and honey body wash and desire. The scent of sex and lust swirls in the air around us. Touch. The feel of her insides trembling against my hand, her ass pressing back against my cock without her even noticing. Taste. I open my mouth over her shoulder and bite the tender flesh lightly. Gazes locked, I slide my fingers from inside her, dancing them over her stomach, slowly teasing over her tightened nipples to her mouth. Slipping one finger in, rubbing it over her tongue before retreating and sliding the same Addy-scented finger into my own mouth, letting the flavors of her need fill me with an urgency to take. Take and take until neither of us have anything left to give. All of the frustration and anger from earlier is now pooling in my cock, screaming for me to fuck her until I can’t think straight. Drown in her sounds and taste and smell. Touch every part of her until she can feel me in places she thought unreachable. Fighting that anger, I wrap her long hair around my hand. Pulling her head back, I put my lips to her ear and whisper roughly, “Make me forget.” Three words. So much meaning. Such a big job. Addy’s gaze never wavers. She widens her stance, raising her hands to brace herself against the glass. Without words, she gives me permission to use her body to wipe my memory clean. To bring us both pleasure from our pain. It’s a connection I’ve never shared with another person and one that scares the hell out of me. But not enough to walk away right now, even though I know I should. Growling low in my throat, I yank at my belt, attacking the button and zip of my jeans,

working them and my boxer briefs down my thighs with one hand as we watch each other in the reflection, the darkness of the night sky and the lights of the city creating a spectacular backdrop on Addy’s skin. With my cock in my hand, I nudge her legs a little wider with my knee. Bending to get under her, I drag my length through her slit. From clit to her ass, back and forth, applying pressure to the sweet spots with every swipe. On the third pass, I drive into her, my fist tightening in her hair, bending her like a bow with each tug and thrust. Addy comes apart all over me, her pussy squeezing around me to the point of pain as she comes, my name falling from her lips as she trembles in my arms. I slap my hand onto the window next to hers, pressing her into the cold glass, flattening her tits against it, not caring about who may or may not be watching from the ground. Almost hoping that someone is witness to this branding, because that’s exactly what it is. With every stroke of my cock, I’m branding her onto my soul. Every time I slide out of her and then back in making her cry out in pleasure, I’m branding her onto my skin. And when I come inside of her, our eyes hooded, the anger gone and replaced with our pleasure, I brand myself onto every part of her. The moment that sinks in, I leave.

22

BEAU

S

tone Lockhart is one talented bastard. We’re sitting in the studio going over my album and the songs we want to feature and the ones we want to save for the next or cut all together. It’s been four hours and we’ve danced around the topic of Addy and her job as my babysitter the whole time. If he asks, I’m not sure what I’ll say. “Yeah, it’s going great. Oh, and the sex is fuckin’ amazin’. But I don’t want anythin’ serious so I’m doin’ my damnedest to make her hate me because that’s what I’m good at.” Maybe I should. Hell, he might kill me. That would make things a bit easier. He breaks through my thoughts “So tell me about this song, bro,” Stone says through a haze of cigarette smoke, strumming absently at a banged up old guitar sitting on his lap. “Which one? There are twenty of them.” I snort out a laugh. “Ahhhh, so you wanna play it that way.” Chuckling, he snubs out the cigarette and starts playing something, his fingers moving over the strings in practiced ease. Confidence just oozing off the man. That’s when I recognize the song he’s playing. “Can’t Love you.” The song that Addy wanted to put out as my first single with Hard Candy. The song I won’t be singing anywhere for anyone. Stone stops playing and leans back in his chair waiting me out. “You like it? You can have it. I’m sure you can make it a little more rock and roll than country.” I shrug. “Be careful. My beautiful woman did that once. Wrote a song about us when we were going through some shit, sold it to another artist. She still regrets it.” “I won’t regret it.” I stand to pack up my guitar, suddenly done with this whole conversation. “I don’t care what you do with it. It’s not goin’ on the album though. I don’t know how it even got on the demo. I’ve only played it a handful of times tryin’ to get it right.” “Sit down, Cowboy,” Stone says waving me back to my seat, chuckling. “Clearly this is a raw nerve. I get it. We’ll shelve it for now. Come back to it when it doesn’t hurt quite so bad.” “Don’t hold your breath.” Stone grins and walks over to the piano. “Let’s figure out what song you do want to let fly then. We want to launch something right after the awards show, hopefully get

everything wrapped up before I head back to Canada with my girls.” “Do you miss it? Being on tour all the time?” He snorts, “Hell no. We did that shit for a few years and it took its toll on us. Mostly me, but I love being involved in this side of the business. I mean, we still tour, but not insane schedules like we did with the other label. I get staying relevant and keeping costs down and all that shit, but it’ll burn you out, man.” I nod in agreement. “My last tour was eight months and it was nonstop. I think I slept for a week when I finally got home.” “Yeah, bro. We won’t do that to you. Once we get all the details on this album hammered out, you and Addy can sit down with Jimmy and get your tour worked out. Addy handles all of that. She’s amazing at what she does.” I feel like he’s baiting me. Like he’s asking me, “Did you really fuck my friend and walk out before your belt was even buckled?” The tone of his voice, the opening he just gave me to agree with him and tell him how awesome she is. He has no idea just how amazing I think Addy Mae is and in how many ways I’ve been amazed by her. “Sounds good. I’m actually meeting with her and Jimmy after this.” “To talk over the radio music awards, right?” “Yeah, that and I think we have some charity thing coming up too.” I’m betting money that Addy isn’t coming to lunch today let alone attending anything with me. I can’t blame her. “How’s that working out? I haven’t been able to read the report that Addy sent to everyone the other day. Don’t you dare fucking tell her that shit though. She looks like a petunia but she can be a pit bull when it comes to business.” I laugh, knowing he’s right. “She doesn’t come out half steppin’.” She’s all in with everything she does. “No. No, she doesn’t.” Shaking my head I can only smile. She can be vicious but she can also be unsure of herself. Of how people see her. Her place in this business and with her friends. That’s a side of her that I’ve been able to see. To help soothe. She doesn’t let that mask slip often, but when she does, I want to wrap her up in my arms and tell her she’s better than she knows. At everything. And then I fuck it all up. “I think so far it’s been good. She’s lined up some really awesome things, a few interviews that I’ve done over the last couple of weeks on top of the charity stuff. She really does keep my ass out of trouble, so yeah, I’d say it’s working.” Chatting with him so casually about all of this while knowing how I left the last time I saw her makes me feel like a piece of shit. “Good. I knew you guys would be a good fit. It helps that she’s not dating that douche bag Calvin anymore. He would have never let her spend so much time with you.” “Oh yeah? Jealous guy?” My interest is piqued. She’s never really mentioned her ex. Only that she did what she does and got attached and that he didn’t. I didn’t push because

I didn’t want her to ask about Jenny. “I’m a jealous guy. He was just a fucking punk. Always telling her what to do but in a way that it made it seem like it was her idea, ya know? And stringing her along while he went out and did whatever. I have no clue what she ever saw in him. We all hated his ass.” “Where’s this Calvin, prick now?” I’m close to seeing red knowing that some dick treated Addy that way. What right did I have after the way I’ve treated her though? Plus, she isn’t mine. There’s a little voice in my head laughing at me right now at that. She may not be mine for the long haul, but she’s mine for now. Or she was. “No clue. They broke up and I haven’t heard her mention his name since. Matter of fact, don’t you tell her I said anything. She’ll be pissed, and I need her to babysit next week so I can take Willow out for her birthday,” Stone says, pointing a finger at me in warning. “I won’t.” The bile churns in my stomach as I think about him confiding in me like this. I know good god damn well that he wouldn’t if he only knew. “All right. Enough gossiping like a bunch of old ladies, let’s get this shit worked out so that we can get out of here.” Pulling my guitar back out, I join him over by the piano, Addy on my mind now more than the music I ought to be thinking about.

I

’m caught out front of the restaurant signing some autographs and taking pictures when the manager comes out to rescue me.

“How’d you know I was out here?”

“I overheard a table talking about it so figured I better save you.” The man smiles and waves the fans away politely. “Your table is waiting.” He holds open the heavy door and welcomes me to Moonshine. The place I first met Addy. Leading me back to the table, my heart pounds loudly enough to be heard in three counties when I see that Addy is already sitting, a drink in her hand. “Hey,” I say softly. Testing the waters. “Where’s Jimmy?” I’m glad he’s not at the table, it gives me a minute to let her lay into me if she’s gonna. As well as appreciate how fine she looks today. Her long hair is down in pretty waves, a fitted denim shirt rolled up to her elbows and tucked into a lacy pink skirt tight enough for me to bet she’s not wearing anything underneath it. The thought of bending her over this table and hiking that skirt up around her waist has me going hard right here in the middle of the damn restaurant. Chances of that happening here or anywhere else are slim to none. “He’s on his way. Called a little while ago. There was an accident or somethin’ that slowed him down,” Addy says, in a detached tone. Once we’re both seated, the waiter comes over to get my drink order before flitting away excitedly. “Well, you just have everybody in an uproar today, don’t you?” Her tone dry, she looks

at me and her eyes are completely flat. I need to see some fire. I know she’s pissed, know I hurt her, and that I might not deserve anything more than what she’s dishing out right now. But I want it. “It might be you. You look good enough to eat, Sugar.” She pays absolutely no mind to what I’ve just said. Doesn’t even bat an eyelash. My drink makes it to the table in record time, the bus boy and our server asking for autographs and if they can take pictures with us. Addy politely declines, offering instead to take the picture for them. “I feel like there might have been a tip off that we were going to be here today. I can usually fly under the radar, but it seems like everywhere I go today I’ve been stopped.” “It might have something to do with the fact that people know you’re in town now, especially after the interviews and concert. They may be looking for you,” she offers, taking a sip from her copper mug. She’s not quick enough to hide the hurt I catch on her face though. “Could be.” I shift in my seat, waiting ‘til she looks at me. “I’ve been meaning to call you,” I begin lamely. Apparently she thinks so too because she rolls her eyes. “I have. I’ve just had a lot on my mind the past few days.” Equally as lame, even to my own ears. “Doesn’t matter, I’ve been busy setting up some tour dates for some clients, yours included.” Her tone is strictly business, ignoring my attempt to talk about what happened to us. She’s always such a contradiction. Most women never want to stop talking about their feelings. Frustrated, I lean forward, crossing my arms on the table. “Are we gonna talk about what happened?” “Nothing to talk about.” She doesn’t even look up when she says it, just continues to peruse the menu when I know damn well she knows the thing front and back. Fine. Perfect. “You know what? You’re right. This thing we were doing wasn’t real anyway.” I sit back, trying to get the smell of her out of my space. So that I can think. “It’s all pretend, Addy. This, me and you, isn’t real. Just your job, right?” I bite out. I know the words will hurt her. Make her mad. Hope for it even. She reels back in her chair, the pain flashing across her face. It’s quickly replaced with disgust. “Ahhh, I get it. You got what you wanted the other night, and now it’s a little too real for you. Had to leave before I went ahead and fell for your bullshit and got attached.” She taps a long painted fingernail on the table. “Well, Beau, you promised me that you wouldn’t let me get attached and you didn’t. But that’s because you were never free. You knew that competing with a ghost was impossible. So you win,” Addy says quietly. I shrug off her comment, not letting her see how close to home she is. Not about the ghost thing because she was never in competition with Jenny, but about everything feeling too real. About me getting in too deep. I force my lips into a smirk. “Pussy is pussy, Addy girl. If I didn’t get it from you, I would’ve just got it from someone else,” I say snidely. Each word a physical blow to both of us.

“Fuck you, Beau,” Addy hisses, unable to say more when we hear Jimmy’s voice. He’s walking our way looking more frazzled that I’ve ever seen him. “So sorry I’m late, y’all.” He waves Addy away when she goes to stand. I’m not sure if he realizes that she was standing to leave and not to be hospitable. He instead bends to peck her cheek which I decide I don’t like, which I also decide is completely fucking ridiculous since I’ve just blown up any connection we had. “We just sat down a minute ago ourselves,” I answer. “Well, I would have been here sooner, but I got caught up outside by some people looking for autographs and some pictures.” The last thing I want to do is have to sit here and make small talk, but I also don’t want to sit in awkward silence and give Jimmy time to figure out I’ve just trashed Addy. “That’s probably because of this,” he says, tossing a copy of Exposé Magazine on the table, Addy and I on the front page looking downright cozy. “Well, that didn’t take long, did it?” My amused tone doesn’t match the pinched look on Addy’s face. The picture on the cover is one of she and I while we were shopping for my mama. Her up against a wall, holding on to me as I lean into her. “They’ve got a whole spread of the two of you,” Jimmy says, signaling for the waiter. “Do I dare look at the inside?” Addy asks Jimmy, bitterness dripping off of every syllable. If Jimmy notices, he doesn’t say anything. “You knew this was gonna happen, Sugar. I’m not sure why you’re actin’ like they’ve just posted naked pictures of you or somethin’. This is the whole reason behind all of the shit you guys got me doin’,” I bite out, a little pissed off. Why is it such a bad thing to be on the cover of some damn gossip magazine with me? She embarrassed? I take a swig of my beer and lean back in my chair, my ire getting the best of me. “We can find someone else for me to run around town with if you don’t want to be seen with me. I’m sure we can round up plenty of willing women. Wouldn’t want you to get caught slummin’ it, Addy Mae.” Her face goes from pinched to pissed in two seconds flat. “You can do whatever you please, but that’s not what I was sayin’ at all and you know it. Don’t put words in my mouth, Beau.” Her voice is pitched low so as not to attract attention from the other diners, but it carries enough heat to let me know she is just as mad as I am, just for a different reason. “What am I allowed to put in your mouth then, Addy? Just so we’re clear.” Jimmy cuts in, “That’s enough, Beau. What the hell has gotten into you?” I watch her as I tip my bottle back again, not answering him. I wanted fire, I got it. Addy stands and tosses a file onto the table, training her attention on Jimmy. “There’s the information you needed. I’ll talk to you later in the week.” Without another word or glance in my direction she strides out of the restaurant, the heels of her nude high heels clicking away like a hammer tapping nails into a coffin. How the fuck did this turn bad so quick?

“What in the hell was that?” Jimmy demands in a harsh tone. “Fuck.” I scrub a hand down my face, instantly feeling remorse and like the biggest fucking hypocrite. “I’m pretty sure that was ego with a little bit of fear and some panic thrown in. But I can’t be certain.”

23

ADDY

B

ending at the waist, I drag in air. As much of it as I can without passing out. Sweat drips down my spine, my temple, my stomach. Adele wailing “I Miss You” in my ears rivals the banging of my rapidly beating heart. I can’t seem to run fast enough or far enough to outrun the heaviness in my chest right now. Being fucked by a man you’ve only just realized you’re in love with, then kissed like you mean something to him right before he walks out your door, all while his come is still trickling down your leg, will give you something to try and run out of your system. Seeing him yesterday and keeping my head held high was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. When he lashed out at me at lunch I was done. I can see through all of his bullshit. He’s scared, and when Beau is scared he acts out—that’s why I had to be his keeper. But I’m not gonna be the one who allows that from the man in my life, and whether he wants to admit it or I want to admit it, Beau McCrae is the man in my life. Jenny may have accepted this side of him, but it won’t be me. Maybe he wants another Jenny. Or maybe he just can’t move past losing her. I refuse to live in her shadow, one foot in and one foot out of his life because it’s not enough for me. I won’t be that girl for anyone anymore, the one who cares too much while they care too little. Have I gone ahead and fallen in love with the bad boy? Yup. But that doesn’t define me. He doesn’t define me. I’m ready to take off running again after my little pep talk when Willow and Scarlet come barreling out of my building waving to get my attention. “Oh my God. Are you okay?” Scar asks. “You look like you’re about to drop dead. Are you going to drop dead?” With my breathing still labored, I give her a death glare. She just throws her head back and laughs at me. “Is that supposed to scare me? Honey, I used to be a model—those bitches are savage. You’re gonna have to try harder than that.” Willow just shakes her head and hands me a bottle of water that she pulled out of her purse followed by a granola bar. Both of which I take and am grateful for. “Who the hell are you? Mary Poppins?” Scar laughs, trying to pry Willow’s bag open so that she can get a look at what else she might be hiding in there. “Ha! No. It’s called being a mom. Get out of my purse, there’s nothing in there for ho bags like you.” I sputter a laugh, choking on my water. “That’s not a purse. It’s a satchel or like carry-on luggage.” Never does she defend her

ho bag status. I love these girls. “What are you two doing here”? I ask when I finally catch my breath. Scarlet waves around a copy of Exposé, the one with Beau and me on the cover. I groan and take a huge bite out of the granola bar. I don’t want to talk about this right now. There will be no way around it though. Not with these two. They both just look at me with “well?” faces. Sighing in resignation, I brush past them into the building, leaving them to follow. I swipe my card for the elevator and then send them up. “I’ll meet you guys, I’m gonna take the stairs to cool down.” They both look at me like I’ve lost my mind. Giving a little finger wave, I head for the stairs. I’m going to need the time to gather my wits. The two of them together is a force to be reckoned with. They’re sitting on my couch with Mason jar glasses of wine when I come in. I’m betting money that was Scar’s doing. “I’m jumping in the shower. Be right out.” “Hurry up, Addy Mae. Don’t think you can avoid us forever, sweet cheeks! And why the fuck don’t you have real damn wine glasses?” Scarlet calls. After taking the world’s fastest shower—I don’t dare dawdle, they’d have come in to get me—I rub a towel over my head and pad out to the living room to join them, avoiding looking at the windows that Beau had me plastered to. “Come sit down and dish, baby.” Willow smiles and pats the seat next to her. Flopping down she pulls my feet onto her lap and Scar hands me a glass—or jar, as it were—of wine. “So, tell me about this…” She flips open the magazine and points. Right there covering the whole page is a picture of Beau with a handful of my ass as he lifts me for a kiss right in the middle of downtown Georgetown. I want to rip it to shreds. Totally irrational but that’s where I’m at right now. When I don’t answer, she points to another. “And how about this?” A picture of Beau and me at the build when he was bandaging my arm. This one was where he placed a kiss on the bandage. Was that only a couple of weeks ago? How did it go so bad so quick? I can feel the tears pricking the backs of my eyes. Doing my best to blink them back, I avert my gaze. It’s too late though, Willow’s too perceptive. “Oh no. No. No. No. Addy,” she wails. That’s all it takes for the tears to start flowing. Taking the towel I was using on my hair, I bury my face in it and let the soft cotton absorb the tears and the sounds of my sobs. Willow doesn’t say anything, just scoots closer and rubs my leg. I can hear Scar in the kitchen getting more wine. A few minutes later I pat at my face with the towel knowing I must look a wreck. “You okay now?” Willow asks, smoothing my hair back from my face. I nod, sniffling. “You got distracted, didn’t you?” Scar pipes in, reminding me of the talk we had when I first met Beau.

I nod again then blow out a shaky breath. “I got distracted as all hell.” She looks at me sympathetically, shaking her head. “You know I hate when Willow’s right. Why you gotta let her be right, Addy?” I can’t help but laugh at that. Willow doesn’t gloat, not about this. “So, what happened? Those obviously aren’t happy tears.” “I’m not even sure.” Taking a gulp of my wine, I start at the beginning and tell them about his mama and how right off the bat she let me know I was not Jenny. Then I told them about the build and the river. “You had sex in a river? You rebel.” Scar nudges my leg, sounding impressed and maybe a little proud, if I’m honest. Continuing, I tell them about him serenading me in the back of the truck and what that led to, and of course Willow demands to know what song. “‘Speakers’ by Sam Hunt.” “Ooohh, that’s a good one.” I don’t deny it. Worked like a charm on me. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Go ahead.” So I go on to tell them how he showed up here the next day and the road head incident but have to stop when Scar falls off the couch laughing. Once she has herself under control I go on and on. Choking back tears all the while, not doing too bad until I get to the concert and have to relive that whole thing again. “Her brother said what? Oh, hell no,” Scar says, a vicious curl to her lip. “Beau took up for me and put the guy in his place, but still. The whole thing took a toll on both of us.” Tipping my glass at Scar she pours more Moscato into it for me. I tell them about us coming back here but not how it all went down, just that he left me. Never even got his pants all the way off before he had them fastened up and headed out the door. “That motherfucker. You have to be kidding me!” Scar is off the couch pacing and cursing. “He was hurting.” Willow holds up a hand to silence Scarlet. “I’m not making excuses, but boys are dumb. They process and deal in ways that make zero sense,” she says softly. “He’s had a rough few months. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for him to have to stand there coming off that high of performing to having his world tilted on its axis.” “You are so right, Willow. So right. And I would have forgiven him for that…tensions were high, emotions were raw. I would have forgiven him for just walking out of here. When I was done crying. But then he went ahead and acted a total damn fool at lunch and now he can go fuck himself right in his feelings,” I say vehemently. “That’s my girl!” Scar encourages. It hurts me to even repeat the stuff he said to me. I didn’t know that Beau, and I for damn sure didn’t like him. The tears are falling once again, faster now as I think about it and how it was that moment I realized I loved him. I knew by the depth of the hurt his words inflicted. Ain’t that special? Scarlet hands me a tissue and the entire bottle of Moscato, this time making me snort out a little laugh.

“So you know why he showed his ass in such an epic display of douchebaggery, don’t you?” she asks from where she sits on my floor. “He’s distracted, same as you. Only instead of talking it out like normal people, he’s hitting the panic button and lashing out. “ I truly believe she’s right, but that doesn’t excuse him. I won’t make excuses for his actions, which from the sounds of it Jenny did. “Doesn’t matter at this point. I won’t sit around and let him treat me like that until he’s ready to admit he has feelings for me.” “Hell no you won’t,” Scar insists. Willow has been a little quiet and I can only imagine that she’s thinking about all the crazy her and Stone went through to get where they are now. Their love is what they write epic love songs about though. “Don’t you guys have an award show to attend tonight?” Willow asks softly. “I’m not going. I don’t even want to look at him right now, let alone pretend with him on the red carpet.” I blow my nose, absolutely miserable. “Are you going to call him to let him know?” She looks at the slim watch on her wrist. “It’s only a few hours away now.” There’s a frown marring her forehead. “Wasn’t planning on it. He’s a big boy. He’ll get it figured out,” I huff. “Should we, as the label, be worried?” Was she really trying to guilt me into going for the company’s sake? “I’m not going. You can call Stone and tell him this was his fucking idea, that he can go. I’m not.” I’m not sure I’ve ever been that snippy with Willow. “This right here is the reason I told you this was a bad idea. There’s no way to resist a man like Beau.” She’s not helping. “Will you be able to work with him? Obviously not right this minute, but eventually?” Willow asks with concern in her tone. Not for the label, but for me. I know that. I’m just on edge. “I will. I just need a day or two to not feel so sad, ya know?” Willow has known more pain and sadness in her life than everyone I know put together. She’s also endured and conquered and come out on top. “I do. It’ll all be fine; you’ll see. Everything always has a way of working itself out, Addy Mae. This is one of those times. I feel it.” She pulls me into her side, hugging me tight and rocking us from side to side. She always was the best at fixing things, but now that she’s got Lyric she has this mothering thing on lock. My eyes drift closed, a tear sneaking past my lid as I think about how royally messed up everything is right now. Suddenly Scarlet asks, “Are those handprints and possibly a… boob on your window, Addy?” My eyes fly open and I shoot straight, looking to where she’s pointing. My face is hot from embarrassment. Scarlet and Willow are both staring at me now with mouths agape and eyes wide while I avoid their eyes. “Maybe?” “Oh my God, you are a ho bag!” she exclaims, falling all over us in a fit of infectious

laughter. I needed this today, needed them.

24

BEAU

A

ddy didn’t show up. Not that I thought she would. Not after the way I treated her. I’ll be lucky if she ever speaks to me again, honestly. Still, I waited at my place where we were supposed to meet long after the agreed upon time before leaving for the airport and Houston. It’s a sad fucking day when Country’s Hottest Bad Boy gets stood up. Tossing back the rest of my fifth bourbon of the evening, I pour another from the hotel’s well-stocked bar and think about skipping the awards myself but know Jimmy would probably quit on me as pissed as he is for lunch and the thing with Addy. I’m batting a thousand. Why I thought fucking around with Addy was a good idea I’m not sure. I should have known better. Best laid plans and all that shit. I’ve never felt a pull like that before though. Couldn’t have denied myself even if I wanted to, and I didn’t want to. So I didn’t and now I’m paying for it. Showing up to this award show half in the bag is probably right up there with bad fucking decisions, but I’m about to do that too. Again. Thankfully this one isn’t the damn CMA’s or anything. Still a big deal with celebrating all of country’s biggest radio stations and TV networks. I’m just thankful Jimmy turned them down when they asked if I would perform. I think he was worried I’d show up drunk and fall off the damn stage. I’m supposed to present an award though, so I guess he wasn’t worried enough. The room phone rings letting me know that the driver has arrived. Grabbing the suit jacket off the back of the chair, I head down. Time to live up to this stupid nickname, I guess. By the time we arrive at the theater, I’m more convinced than ever that I want to be anywhere but here. The paps are lined up shouting, cameras flashing, TV stations with mics hoping to catch an interview. I want to tap on the driver’s shoulder and tell him to just keep driving. The bourbon I had at the hotel, and the two I just downed during our drive over is too much and yet not enough to deal with this shit tonight. The limo rolls to a stop as we inch toward my spot in the queue. Rubbing a hand over my face, I smooth down the short beard I’m rocking and slip into my jacket, grateful that I skipped the tie. Grabbing the pack of cinnamon gum from my inside pocket, I unwrap a piece and pop it my mouth. When the door opens for me to exit and start my trek down the carpet, I don’t even bother trying to muster up a smile. I just raise my hand and nod, giving them what I hope looks like some semblance of a smolder and not the man version of resting bitch face. “Beau! Beau, over here!”

“Who’s the new girl?” “Are you together?” “Is she here?” The questions come at me from all angles, I answer none. What am I gonna tell them? “Nah, she’s at home never speaking to me again because I’m a dick.” Bet they’d eat that up. I’m about to start what feels a bit like a walk of shame or maybe a roadside sobriety test with everyone watching. The bourbon coursing through my blood tests my ability to walk a straight line. I can feel its mellowing effects in every one of my limbs, the nowrelaxed set of my shoulders and that haze that takes over your mind and makes you do stupid shit. “Beau! Hi.” A manicured hand lands on the sleeve of my black jacket. For half a beat I think it might be Addy, but my skin doesn’t light up like someone hit me with a cattle prod, so I know it’s not. I drag my eyes up the slender arm, over a bared shoulder, until I land on her face. Blonde hair, brown eyes, wide mouth…I can’t place her. I blame the bourbon. “Tara Remy. We met briefly at the build in Liberty Hill. I’m with Country All Day Radio.” Ahh, now I remember. The chick Addy shut down cold. “Good to see you.” I drop my gaze and let it travel over her in appreciation. She must notice because she pops her hip, letting her dress fall apart some to reveal a slit that goes nearly to her damn waist. First thing I notice? Her legs aren’t the same sun-kissed shade of tan as Addy’s. Shit. Tara loops her arm through mine, leaning into me so that she can be heard over the crowd. “You here by yourself tonight?” There’s so much packed into that one question. Are you alone? Do you want to fuck me? Can I show you how good I am with my mouth? Will we get caught? All of this in those five words and the press of her tits against my arm. Looking down at her, even through my alcohol fogged mind, I know the answer. “Yes.” Her grin is meant to seduce. Slow and sexy, with a hooded look full of invitation. It doesn’t. “But not by choice. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to see a man about a drink.” Disentangling her arm from mine, I stride away, leaving her standing there looking stunned. I bet not too many men have turned Tara down in her lifetime. Hell, just a couple months ago I wouldn’t have. “Smart move there, Beau. That one will give ya something whiskey won’t wash off,” Arnie Platt, a respected older guy in the industry, says slapping me on the back as he slides past. I shake my head and laugh. “That I don’t doubt.” He stops and points to the paparazzi here, three rows deep. “They’re hungry tonight. Like vultures at a dead man picnic. They heard I was gonna be here I reckon.” He lets out a booming laugh that I can’t help but chuckle at. “You take care of yourself tonight, stay out of trouble. I like not seeing your ugly mug all over the grocery store magazine rack. Keep it that way.”

Knowing he’s right and knowing that it’s because of Addy that I haven’t been, I decide to keep it that way. Shaking his hand, I thank him and stride away from the red carpet and the entrance, back to have my car brought around. If I walk up on that stage drunk, it will be worse than me not showing at all. I don’t want to do that to myself or Addy.

I

wasn’t able to get a flight out of Houston last night and I was in no condition to drive, so I stayed at the hotel, taking the first available flight out this morning. Hungover and ornery as hell, I slip my shades on my face and pull my baseball cap low as I walk through the airport. God bless anyone who crosses me today. My phone starts going off in my pocket, and I see that it’s Jimmy, and I send it to voicemail. I know he’s had to have heard about me being a no-show already, and I’m not ready to deal with all that yet. A few minutes later my phone starts vibrating again. I pull it out to see that it’s my brother. “What’s up, Sealy?” He answers with a too-loud laugh. “And just how much did you have to drink last night?” “Fuck off,” I mutter, searching for coffee now that I’ve made it through security. “What do you want?” “Just wonderin’ where you were and why Jimmy is callin’ me lookin’ for you?” “Long story. Just tell him you haven’t talked to me but last you heard I was gettin’ on a plane and comin’ home.” “You okay?” “I am now. Or I will be. Just gotta get home and take care of some stuff is all.” “Some stuff like Addy?” “You Dr. Phil now?” “You sure are cantankerous today, big brother.” He laughs. “I’ll see ya. Do you need me to come get you?” “Nah. I’ll get there. Bye.” I disconnect the phone and turn it off so that nobody else can call. Ordering a coffee, I find a quiet corner of the terminal and wait for my flight while I plan out all the things I may or may not say to Addy after I have a talk with my mama.

H

eading to the exit in Austin, I see the paparazzi a second before they see me. They must have been tipped off in Houston. It happens all the time. An airline employee will call a magazine or radio station and tell them what time to expect me and where and they’ll make a few bucks. I wish they’d just let me pay them double and not make the damn phone call. “Beau, Beau, over here!” they start yelling through the terminal. I catch the eye of an

employee who nods in understanding and goes off to get security. I don’t like to travel with bodyguards, and I can usually just blend, but once they bring attention to me, it can get crazy. Walking beside me now as I move through the airport to the exit, they have their cameras rolling. A young hipster looking guy fires questions at me. “Beau, how’s the new label?” “Do you have a stylist?” I look at him like he’s crazy and he shrugs. I know from experience that they’ll just keep yelling out the most random shit until I start answering. “When’s the new album coming out?” “Is it true you might do a collaboration with Stone Lockhart?” I nod. “Maybe.” “Who is your pick for the Super Bowl this year?” “Season hasn’t even started yet, man.” I laugh. Coming up on the exit, I see security rounding the corner to make sure everything is fine. “Tell us about the new girlfriend! We saw the pictures; you guys look great together.” He hollers this last question out right as security is ushering me toward a town car they must have had waiting. “She’s hot, right?” I can’t help but tease. I’m not telling them she’s not my girlfriend or that she hates me right now. I just go with it. “Not as hot as the last one!” the cameraman calls out as I’m ducking into the back of the car. Good thing because I might have punched his rude ass. As we start rolling away, I lower the window when the driver stops to let people cross and tell the two guys still following after the car as closely as they can. “You better clean that lense, brother. She’s smokin’.” Rolling up the window, I tell the guy where we’re going and thank him for saving the damn day and settle back for the short ride to my place. Wondering how much damage control I’m going to have to tackle once I start answering my phone.

25

ADDY

S

itting behind my desk, I scroll through the emails that were waiting for me, making this the Mondayest Monday ever.When Nelle buzzes, it’s a welcome

break.

“Miss Addy, Jimmy Neumann is on line one for you. Are you ready to start taking calls?” “Yeah. Go ahead and put him through,” I say absently, reading an email from Bear regarding Wildfire’s contract. When the phone beeps letting me know she’s transferred the call, I pick up. “This is Addy.” “Addy, it’s Jimmy. Have you received a call from the association yet?” “Umm…what now?” I close the emails so that I can pay attention to what he’s saying. He sounds frazzled. “I just got a call. Apparently Beau was a no-show last night in Houston. He was supposed to be a presenter. I saw pictures of him on the red carpet though, so I’m trying to figure out what happened.” Son of a bitch. “Have you talked to him?” “Not answering. Sealy said he’s flying so I’m waiting to hear back. I just wanted to give you a heads up.” He pauses. “I thought you were going with him?” I start typing his name into the search engine. “Yeah, change of plans.” The very first picture that pops up is from Exposé, a picture of him and Tara Remy on the red carpet of last night’s event. The blood drains from my face, my fingers go numb, and the sound of my heartbeat in my ears makes it impossible to hear what Jimmy Don is saying. “Addy? Can you hear me? Hello?” he calls into the receiver. “Did you do any research?” I try to keep the tears that are running down my cheeks out of my voice, dashing them away angrily. “Not yet. I just got the call.” “Well, you’ll have your answers. Are they fining him?” I hit mute quickly so that I can sniffle without him figuring out that I’m crying.

“No, I explained that he was there so something must have happened, perhaps an emergency.” “If sleeping with Tara Remy is an emergency, I would say yes,” I say flatly, trying to turn my sadness into anger so that I can deal with this in a professional manner and not like the broken-hearted fool I am. “What?” Jimmy asks baffled. Scrolling through, I see a couple more pictures and then a “Breaking News” video. “I have to go. I need to call Stone and Judge to do some damage control with them before I tackle the media. If you get a hold of him, let me know please. Also call the association back and tell them that he will be donating whatever the amount of the minimum fine is to their charity.” “I’m on it now.” He pauses. “Are you okay? I mean—” “I’m fine.” I cut him off. I just want to hang up so that I can figure myself out. “Call me when you have more information.” I hang up before he can say anything else. For several minutes after I end the call I sit staring at the screen, the way she leans into him, holds onto his arm, smiles seductively. He looks so handsome. The beautiful bastard. All in black—black pants, black shirt, black shoes and jacket. He oozes sex appeal and confidence. His hair is combed to the side and his now almost fully-bearded face smiling down at her the way he’s smiled at me dozens of times before just about kills me. Deciding I haven’t punished myself enough, I hover over the headline of the video. “Exposé catches up with Beau McCrae in Austin where we ask him about his new new girlfriend who sources say is Tara Remy with Country All Day Radio. Here’s what he had to say…” Burying my head in my hands I practice my breathing as tears drip from my chin onto my desk. Damn him. I told him I didn’t want to get involved. That I get attached. And he promised. Sighing in defeat, I grab a tissue and turn the video on. It must’ve been taken just this morning when he landed. He looks a whole lot rougher than he did the night before. Even with his hat pulled low, I can see the bloodshot eyes. I can’t even find it in me to feel happy about that. Wearing a backpack, his headphones, and a white shirt that stretches over his barreled chest and thick arms, he makes his way through the airport while they pepper him with questions. When they ask him about his new girlfriend my stomach drops and my breath hitches when he answers back about how hot she is. And seriously, bless the camera guy who said I was hotter. I’m giving him exclusives with all of our artists from now until forever. I watch through the tears in my eyes as Beau jumps into the back of a town car and makes a point to roll the window down and correct the guy on team Addy. I watch it twice more just to torture myself, the tears flowing freely. When I watch it for the third and final time, I spin away from my desk and take in the skyline for a beat before stalking off to my bathroom to fix my makeup, cursing Beau McCrae and the day I met him. Then I curse him again for making me cry. In the bathroom, I splash my face and blot away the moisture, taking my mascara with it. Knowing that it will be futile to reapply it, I don’t. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I say a little prayer because the way I’m feeling right now, I need Jesus so that I

don’t do bodily harm to one Beau McCrae. So maybe it’s him who needs Jesus. With a deep breath, I leave the bathroom as fixed as I’m going to be and buzz Nelle. “Yes, darlin’?” she asks gently. She must know something. I don’t pretend to know what or how already. She’s like a gossip wizard. “I need you to get Stone and Judge here. Tell them they can bring whomever from the label, but I need a meeting, or at least a conference call, and then I need for you to get Beau on the phone for me.” My voice wobbles a little on his name, but I don’t let her coddle me. If she does, I’ll cry, and I can’t afford to cry anymore right now. There will be time for that later. “Anything else, Miss Addy?” “Hold all my other calls. I’m only dealing with this mess today.” “I’ll take care of it all.” “Thanks, Nelle.” Pacing the floor of my office, I rub at my temples and try to wrap my head around all that’s happened. In a few week’s time I’ve fallen head over heels for a man I wasn’t supposed to fall for. A man who won’t let me into his past but tries to make me feel like part of his present. A man who I don’t think is capable of loving another woman like he did the one who died. And then that same man breaks my heart before I even told him it was his.

J

udge, Law, and Arrow are on speakerphone while Stone and Willow lounge in the conference room, their daughter, Lyric, hanging out with Nelle. “So what’s up? Why the rushed meeting?” Arrow asks through the

speaker. I look to Stone who nods for me to go ahead. “Well, as you guys know, we signed a new country artist a couple months ago after he was dropped by his label, and we were working on his image and creating opportunities for good press.” They all answer with a round of yeses. “I got a call from his manager earlier that he was a no-show at the country music radio award show last night where he was supposed to be presenting. They’re not fining him, but we are and that fine will be whatever the association’s lowest fine is and will go to their charity” Stone and Willow nod their heads. “I think that’s fair,” Stone says. “What do you mean a no-show? Weren’t you supposed to be there with him?” Judge cuts in a little curtly. “I was. I decided not to go.” “So this is as much on you as it is on him. We signed him with the understanding that you would keep him in line,” Judge replies. I can tell he’s in a mood, and lucky for him, so am I. “And I have. I’ve organized events and interviews, charity functions and book readings, and I’ve gone to nearly every single one of them. I’ve also set up his tour dates

and all of his studio time on top of the release of the album we’re finishin’ up for him. That’s not includin’ the stuff I’ve done for the other clients we have or the trips to concert venues to make sure things were as they should be. What have you done, again, Judge? Because last time I checked I wasn’t your fucking assistant anymore.” Stone and Willow are both looking at me with raised brows and wide eyes. I’m not one to pop off or lose my cool, and I’ve just done both and dropped some colorful language while I was at it. Lawson cuts in with a slow clap and a deep rumbling chuckle. “Guess she told you, bro. About damn time.” He laughs some more. “I think what Addy Mae is trying to say here is that she’s busting her ass making sure the office and everything there runs efficiently while you deal with your fucked up love life and the shit you delegate to her, and she’s doing it all while sleeping with this Beau dude. Only they had a fight and she decided she wasn’t going and then he fell back on his old ways. That about sum it up, Addy?” I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. I’m past all that today. I had a moment of weakness, and that weakness was Beau McCrae. Nothing I can do about it now. I am a little concerned about how easily Law sussed it out though. Am I that transparent? Stifling a sigh, “Yeah, Law. That about sums it up,” I answer honestly. “I’m so good at this,” he gloats. “I’m sorry, Addy,” Judge says. I know he means it. And honestly I don’t feel overworked or taken advantage of. I’m just not the person to cross today. “Apology accepted.” I don’t bother apologizing because I’m not sure yet that I am sorry. “So do we need to do anything moving forward, or was this just to be sure everyone was brought up to speed?” Willow asks, looking at me with unmasked sympathy. I showed her the article and video before the meeting started. “Basically. I just didn’t want there to be something mentioned somewhere and you guys not know, and I also wanted to be sure that it’s being handled the way everyone agrees it should.” “Whatever you think, Addy,” Arrow replies. The rest of them agreeing. “Okay. That’s all I needed then.” I say goodbye and disconnect the call, my eyes falling on the very quiet pair watching me. “What?” I ask, pulling together all the stuff I thought I might need for the meeting. “You okay, sweetie?” Willow asks. “Yep.” Anything more and I’m gonna cry, and I may never stop. “Want me to beat the shit out of him?” Stone asks, and I’m not convinced he’s not serious. “Maybe. Can we put a pin in that offer?” “Abso-fucking-lutely.” Nodding in appreciation, I stand to leave. “I’m going to see him now since he’s not returning anyone’s calls. Pray for him. I’m about to take him to church and not the kind he

likes.”

26

BEAU

B

are feet slapping on the hardwood floors of my bedroom, I rub a towel over my head, feeling human having showered. After not sleeping but for a couple hours in Houston, I came home from the airport and crashed. Shep raises his head from his bed in the corner; he must’ve come in while I was in the shower. Stooping down, I run a hand over his soft fur on my way to the dresser. I need to get dressed and turn my phone on to deal with the calls I’m sure I’ve missed. I’m surprised someone isn’t beating down my door yet. I’m pulling a shirt over my head and reaching for my phone to power it up when there’s a knock at my door. Guess I spoke too soon. Through the frosted glass, I can see that it’s Addy. My heart kicks into double time. I wasn’t expecting her, and though she’s the only one I really care about talking to, I’m not sure I’m prepared. I open the door, ready to start apologizing for the way I treated her and to go from there. I don’t even get the chance. “Did you ever for one second stop to take not only your career into consideration but mine when you decided to not show up last night?” she demands as she steps around me into the house. “Well, hello to you too, Sugar.” It’s clear that she’s not in the mood for my lame ass attempt at humor. Shep must recognize it too because he slips out the door before it closes. “Just once, once maybe you could stop and think about what you’re doing and the impact it might have on others.” “Ahhh, so we’re talkin’ about last night then. I actually did take you into consideration—” “Oh, I’m sure you had my best interests in mind while you were fucking Tara too,” she bites out. Fucking Tara? What in the world is she even talking about? And how does she know I was even talking to Tara? She’s on a roll though, and I don’t get the chance to recover from my confusion. “I get that you’re hurt over Jenny, but did you love her so damn much that you’re willing to tank your career? Hurt the people around you that truly care about you? Do you really think that’s what she’d want for you? No-shows and random women? If you’re going to go up in flames for her, at least do it with some damn dignity.” Her face is flushed in anger and that’s when I notice that her eyes are slightly puffy

like she’s been crying. Has she been crying? And why does she think I was fucking Tara? “You about done?” When she just glares at me, I figure it’s safe to continue. “I’m not sure what you’re getting on about, but I left the award show—” “Oh, I know why you left. It was pretty fuckin’ obvious why you left by the pictures and your braggin’ to the paps at the airport. I saw it and then I heard it loud and clear, Beau.” “Damn it, Addy! Stop and listen for a minute, and I can tell you exactly what happened!” I raise my voice to be heard over her, but it doesn’t even slow her down. “No. You know what? I won’t. I made excuses for you because the love of your life had just died. I made excuses for you because I don’t know how I would pick myself up after a loss like that, but I’m done because now you’re not only hurting yourself but me as well. I will not stand by and let you take me down because of how much you loved Jenny. I’m truly sorry, and I’m trying to be understanding, but I can’t anymore.” I run my hands through my hair in frustration. “Addy, you don’t understand—” “Then make me! Make me understand! Did you love her so much—” “No, okay? No! I didn’t love her enough!” I shout, cutting her off. I can’t take anymore of her speculation. The guilt will be my undoing. It’s what’s been eating at me ever since that night. Hell, ever since I met Jenny if I’m honest. Finally quiet, she blinks rapidly, a look of confusion on her pretty face. “God damn it, you’re like a pit bull,” I mutter. “Did I love Jenny? Yes. But I don’t think I was ever in love with her.” “I don’t…I don’t understand,” Addy sputters. “You imploded after her death.” I snort out a humorless laugh. “Guilt will do that to you.” Scrubbing a hand over my face, I sit on the arm of the couch. “That night, Jenny came to see me. I told her I was done. That I was done pretendin’ for her sake and for my mama’s. Done havin’ everyone look at me as this asshole set out on hurtin’ their precious Jenny.” Shaking my head I’m brought back to that night. How she didn’t hear a word I said, and I try to make Addy understand. “Jenny, I mean it. I’m done. I’m done with all of this.” “Beau, if you’re talking about that…that woman last month, I’ve already forgiven you. Now, we have your parents’ anniversary party next week—” “No. You’re not hearing me. I don’t want your forgiveness. I’ve never wanted it. I want you to tell me to go fuck myself. I want you to be madder ‘n hell and slap me in the face.” “Oh my gosh, you’re being ridiculous. Of course I forgive you. I know you don’t mean to.” “Jesus Christ, Jenny. Of course I mean to! I’m sleepin’ with other women out in the damn open. I don’t even try to hide it anymore. You wanna know why?” Not waitin’ for her to answer or to offer up some excuse for me, “I do it because you don’t hear me. You never have. I’ve been tellin’ you since high school that this wasn’t what I wanted. That you and I were not meant to be together. I’m just as much to blame though because I let you

manipulate me and use my mama to keep me right where you want me. I let myself just get comfortable, but no more. That’s not love. This is not love. I am not in love with you.” I’ve never told a single person about the fight we had that night. Not even Sealy, though he knew about a lot of my problems with Jenny. I feel as if a weight has been lifted. “Beau—” “I told her I was done, for good. Her answer was ‘I’m pregnant.’” Addy gasps, her hand covering her mouth. “I called her a liar. Told her there was no way. We hadn’t even slept in the same bed in months. I knew this was a last-ditch effort because she knew I would never turn my back on a child, and God knows, my mama wouldn’t have that.” Rubbing my damp palm down my thigh, the rough of the denim almost soothing, I continue, “Then it got ugly. She threatened to tell everyone I hit her, end my career, just anything she could think of. She slapped and kicked me and called me names and used words I didn’t even know she knew. For the first time in all the years I’d known her, I felt relief. Relief that I was finally honest, that she was finally pissed off at me, that I would finally be free and she could find a man who would love her the way she deserved. She was a good girl. She was just never the girl for me.” I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly to give myself a second. “When she realized I wasn’t going to budge, she said she wouldn’t be some rancher’s wife, that she’d kill herself before she let that happen, and it would be all on me.” I clear my throat of the emotion. “She left after that and wrecked her car about a mile down the road from my Nashville apartment.” I look up at Addy just in time to see her wipe at a stray tear. “Don’t cry, Sugar.” My voice sounds rough even to my own ears. “Do you…do you think Jenny did it on purpose?” she asks softly. I look out the window and think about it before answering. “I do. But then I just don’t know. She’s never been one to give up so easily, so maybe it was an accident. Either way, it’s on me. Just like she said.” Mulling that over a minute, I stand abruptly, “I need a beer, you want one?” “No, thank you.” I can see her wheels turning. Trying to process all I’ve just told her. From the kitchen island I tell her quietly, “I know treatin’ her like that doesn’t make me a good person, but Jenny had a way of bringin’ out the worst in me. She made me want to act out and push the limits on everything, on life. I have so many regrets when it comes to her and our relationship, but my biggest regret, aside from letting her leave that night, will always be the other women. I never wanted to be a cheater. Made me feel like the worst kind of person and then that made me act out in other ways.” I laugh sardonically. “Like a damn child.” Addy cracks a small smile which gives me hope. It feels so good to tell Addy how I truly felt about Jenny. Just then my phone pings from my pocket with a message and then again and again in rapid succession. “Lord have mercy,” I mutter pulling it out to find out who in the hell is blowing me up. My brother. Over and over. Figuring he can wait, I turn my attention back

to Addy to find her no longer smiling but looking at her phone too. “What in the world does everyone want?” I ask in exasperation. I still need to find out what all the Tara mess is she was talking about. “Jimmy Don has a lot going on after the Exposé piece this morning,” She tells me, the hint of a smile she had been wearing completely gone. “From the airport? I didn’t even really say anything.” I’m so confused why that would cause any issues. Especially with Addy. “Listen, I have to go. I have some things to take care of. Thank you for telling me your story; you didn’t have to.” She tucks her phone into her purse. “I’ll call you in a few days with a new game plan. Please call Jimmy before he has a heart attack.” Her tone is subdued. I hate it. A few days? No way. I have so much I want to say still, but she’s already got one foot out the door. “Addy—” “Beau, please. We can talk later.” It’s clear she wants to be away from me, so I let her go for now. Ain’t no way I’m waiting a few days to talk to her again though. “All right, Sugar.” The door is closed and she’s gone quicker than if she were on fire. My phone starts going off in my pocket again. “God damn it.” Pulling it out, I see a thumbnail picture that Sealy sent me. SEALY: WTF BEAU?! I open it up and just stare in shock. “You have got to be shittin’ me.” There, bold as you please, is a picture of me and Tara Remy on the red carpet with a headline that says: TARA REMY IN, ADDY MAE MASTERSON OUT AND SEE HOW THE BAD BOY OF COUNTRY MUSIC TELLS OUR CAMERA GUY THAT HIS NEW NEW GIRL IS HOTTER THAN THE OLD NEW GIRL. Throwing the door open, I pray I can catch her, pretty certain I can’t. Stepping out in the yard, her Jeep is gone. Sliding a thumb over my phone, I call her. She sends it right to voicemail. I hang up and try again. Again right to voicemail. Walking inside I wait for the beep. “Sugar, I just saw the pictures and the article. That is not what it looks like. Call me.” Disconnecting, I’m contemplating my next move when there’s a tap at my door. Spinning around hoping it’s Addy, I’m disappointed to see it’s not. My mama walks in and smiles. “Did I just see Addy pass by the main house?” “You did. And I really have to go after her.” “Can we talk a minute first, baby? This can’t keep,” she says, her hands clenched together. I’d rather be chasing down Addy and explaining the Tara thing, but my mama looks pretty serious. “Okay, mama.” She nods, a look of relief flashing across her face that soon gives way to nervousness.

What in the world could she have to be nervous about? Grabbing my untouched beer off the coffee table, I motion for her to follow me into the kitchen, knowing she’ll be more comfortable there. “Come on ,you can make some tea or coffee or something.” Tossing my beer, I sit at the counter and watch as she happily flits around my kitchen, all the while my nerves are shot and my leg is bouncing like mad. Never in my life have I wanted to shoo my mama out of my house so badly. My need to get to Addy is about to make me forget my manners. “I won’t keep you long, Beau, but I have things that need sayin’.” “Okay.” I have absolutely no clue what’s on her mind, but it’s not often that my mama asks for my time. She takes a fortifying breath. “I did you a great disservice by pushing Jenny on you for all those years.” That was not what I was expecting. “She was my best friend’s daughter. Mary and I used to plan y’all’s wedding when you were just babies. Then when Mary died, I felt like I owed it to her to see it through. To make sure the dreams she had for her little girl could still be, even if she wasn’t here.” “I didn’t love her, Mama,” I say as gently as I can. “I see that now. But I couldn’t see it before Addy.” I tilt my head in question. “I’ve not had the chance to spend a lot of time with her, but the time I have spent I see how you are with her. How you dote on her and come to her defense when your foolish mama treats her poorly.” She covers my hands with hers. “You look at her the way your daddy looks at me.” I sure do hope not, because when I look at Addy all I can think about is getting her naked and being inside her. All joking aside, this is a big leap for my mama. “I think if you give her a chance, you’ll really like her,” I tell her. “I already do. That’s what scared me so much, I think. I felt like I was being unfaithful to Mary and Jenny. Took your daddy givin’ me a stern talkin’ to to see how ridiculous I was bein’.” With a soft chuckle she says, “He’s right so often I hate to admit it to him. He really did open my eyes to quite a few things, but this weighed the heaviest on my mind. I just want you to be happy. I’m afraid I kept you from doing that for a long time.” Tears pool in her eyes, damn near killing me. I can’t take the women in my life crying today. “Please don’t cry, Mama. Things with Jenny weren’t always bad, and you know what? I’m just as much to blame. I’m a grown ass man. All I had to do was put my foot down. It was just easier sometimes to let the two of you have your way. That’s all in the past now though. I need to look toward the future, and I need you to understand somethin’.” I dip my head to meet her eyes straight on. “Addy is my future.” Her tears come faster now, but these are different. These tears slide from smiling eyes. “Better go get her then, baby.” She makes a shooing motion for me to get out of there. Pecking her cheek, I scoop up my keys and phone and slap a hat on my head. “Beau, tell Addy I said hi.” She grins.

“Yes, ma’am,” I call as I head out the door feeling like the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders. Even with Addy mad at me, I feel good. I know I won’t give up until she’s not. I’ve fucked up a lot of things with her in a short amount of time. I’m done with all that. I don’t wanna be her long list of what-ifs anymore.

27

ADDY

D

amn him. Damn Beau McCrae for making me want to hug him when I’m still so mad at him. After hearing his story about Jenny and the hell he’s been living since her death and why, I didn’t have it in me to tackle Tara with him. He doesn’t owe me any explanations anyhow. No, fuck that. He does and I’ll get them, just not today. Today I need vodka or maybe ice cream. Or maybe both. Instead of heading back to the office, I pass right by it and go on to my place. I don’t want to deal with anyone there. I can put out fires from my couch if need be. I haven’t talked to Jimmy Don again, and other than a text from Judge apologizing and one from Willow telling me she loves me, oh, and three calls from Beau, my phone has been quiet. Nelle has probably threatened them all with bodily harm. Pulling into my parking space, I take the elevator to my apartment, willing myself to keep my shit together until I get there as a sudden onslaught of tears hits me. It’s gonna be a long damn day. Once inside, I kick off my shoes and start peeling my clothes off, leaving a trail as I head for my bathroom and my huge soaker tub, pausing only briefly to snag the Moscato and a Mason jar on my way. Completely naked by the time I get there, I crank open the taps on the tub and drop a bath bomb in before filling my Mason jar with Moscato. Looking at myself in the mirror, I groan at my appearance. My hair is a windblown mess and my eyes are puffy from crying. After Calvin, I swore I’d never cry over a boy again. That was clearly a lie. Putting my glass down I start pinning my hair up into a messy bun, calling out to Alexa to play some music. She must be able to gauge my mood from my tone because just as I’m slipping into the tub, “Tin Man” by Miranda Lambert comes on. Fitting. Sinking further into the hot frothy water, I let the words of the song wash over me. The tears streaming down my cheeks again mingle with the bath water. I don’t do anything to wipe them away, just give myself this time to get it all out, because after this bath I’ll be damned if I cry another tear over a man who has already moved on to not-so-greener pastures. I don’t care what he says. I’m prettier than that bitch Tara Remy all day and twice on Sundays. By the time the water has become too cool to be relaxing, I’ve made my way through half a bottle of Moscato and my fingers are all pruny. I’m contemplating adding more hot water when Sam Hunt’s voice fills my bathroom making me groan, remembering the night on the river. I’m just about to tell Alexa to shut up, when there’s banging on my door, followed by the doorbell, then more pounding. Sitting abruptly, I send water sloshing over the side of my tub. “Shit.” Only two people I know would cause a ruckus like that, Scarlet

and Beau. Saying a little prayer that it’s Scar coming to check on me, I step out of the tub, drying as quickly as I can, Sam still singing “Speakers” and someone still beating down my door. Snatching my robe from the hook, I shrug into it, tying the sash as I stomp out of the bathroom. I almost hope it’s Beau, just so I can scream at him for being so damn obnoxious. Throwing open the door, Beau’s fist stops midair. His mouth hangs slightly, eyes roaming over me from the top of my pinned hair to the tips of my pink painted toes and all spots in between. And damn those spots for noticing. “What do you want, Beau?” I fume. He’s about to answer when his eyes dart past me to my apartment and the strewn clothes everywhere. “Who’s here, Addy?” he demands as he slides past me into the apartment, picking up my clothes as he goes, scanning the room for what I can only assume to be another man. Good, let him see what it feels like. Only there is no man stashed away, and he’s got Tara. He comes back into view and tosses my clothes onto the couch. “Who’s here?” “Nobody’s here, Beau, not that it’s any of your business.” “Oh, it’s my business all right, Sugar,” he drawls, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Was your business. Could’ve been your business.” The Moscato is giving me a healthy dose of liquid courage. “But you decided to play church with Tara Remy, so it’s none of your damn business who worships at my altar.” Okay, I should probably stop with this analogy. “Is that right?” “That’s right. Can’t ride two horses with one ass, Beau.” I cross my arms over my chest and raise a brow, daring him to disagree. A low chuckle rumbles from him. “No, don’t reckon you can.” He stops and points in the direction of the bathroom. “That our song playin’?” “We don’t have a song,” I huff. “We do. And it’s this one. Least ’til I finish writin’ yours.” “I have a song?” For a minute I almost let myself forget how mad I am at him. I’ve never had anyone write me a song before. It doesn’t last long though before I’m picturing him singing for Tara like he did for me. “Why don’t you go put some clothes on so we can talk,” he suggests, probably thinking he found an opening. “No, thanks. I’m good,” I insist. He tilts his head to the side and gives me a slow perusal. His eyes are full of heat when they make their way back to mine. Well, shoot. “Suit yourself, but I’m but a mere man, Sugar. I can’t promise that I’ll be able to concentrate while we’re discuss things knowin’ you’re standin’ there practically naked.”

Every syllable he just spoke is dripping with sex. I hate that it’s that easy for him. I have to convince myself to school my features and not allow him to see what him being here, his words, and the want in his eyes does to me. I need to be stronger than that. I need to find that mad and hurt I’ve been carrying around all day and hold on to it. “I’m sure your new girlfriend won’t like that.” Apparently Moscato makes me bold and petty. “Don’t have a new girlfriend, Sug. Only got you,” he says it so matter-of-fact like that’s all it takes. “That’s not what the tabloids and paparazzi say.” “So now we believe everythin’ the rag mags have to say? If that were the case, I’d have five kids, an island, and be from outer fuckin’ space. Come on now, Addy. You know better than that mess,” he chastises. “I saw the pictures, Beau.” “They’re not what you think. Not at all what they look like.” “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.” I roll my eyes. “Tell me what I saw then, Beau. How did the two of you end up on the red carpet all cozy like?” “I was drunk—” I put up a hand to stop him. “You do know that’s the worst way to start a story, right? Especially one like this. Next you’ll claim it wasn’t you.” “Woman, will you just let me finish? I have a mind to put somethin’ in that pretty little mouth of yours to keep you quiet.” I just glare in response, somehow knowing it’s not quite as menacing as I hope. “As I was sayin’. I was drunk when I got there. I was upset about the way I had treated you and about you not showing up, so I figured why the hell not, and drank way too damn much.” He shrugs his shoulders and continues. “I was just gettin’ ready to do the death march down the red carpet when Tara came up to me.” I snort out a breath indelicately interrupting him once again. This time he just grins. “She had to introduce herself again and remind me who she was because I didn’t remember her from the build.” That pleases the hell out of me. “Anyway, she asked if I was there alone—” “Which you know is code for, ‘wanna have sex?’” I snap. “I reckoned it is.” Beau smiles. “I told her no and walked away and ended up talkin’ to Arnie Platt.” “Wait, you told her no? Why?” I ask confused. “Easiest damn thing you’ve ever asked me,” he mutters. “Because she isn’t you, Sugar. She is lacking in all the ways you’re not, but mostly just that she isn’t you,” he drawls out slowly so I understand. As I process that, he goes on. “I got to talkin’ to Arnie and he made mention of how nice it was to see me out of trouble, and it dawned on me then that it was because of you that I hadn’t been. Not because you babysit me or anything, but because you bring out the best in me. I told you earlier that Jenny brought out the worst in

me. Made me be someone I didn’t always like. With you it’s just the opposite. I wanna be a better man when I’m around you. Not just for you but for me too.” He takes a step closer to me. “When Arnie said that, I knew I couldn’t get up on that stage drunk and embarrass myself and you. So I made the decision to leave, knowing that it would be better to not show up at all than to show up wasted. So when you asked earlier if I ever take anyone else into consideration before I do shit, the answer is yes. For the first time I did. I took you and how it would look on you into consideration.” I can’t even pretend there aren’t tears in my eyes right now. How quickly we jump to believe the gossip columns. “And the video this mornin’? “Didn’t even realize that there were pictures of Tara and I floatin’ around, so when he kept on sayin’ ‘new girlfriend’ I just assumed they meant you since we were just on their cover. That’s why I got so pissed when they said my ex was prettier. I thought they were insultin’ you.” He’s frustrated just thinking about it. “You think I’m prettier than Tara?” Yup, Moscato equals petty. I might need to take note of that. Beau closes the gap between us, sliding his arms over the silk of my robe until they’re locked at the small of my back, “Sugar, I don’t think there’s a woman in the world prettier than you.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “And I promise to never make you regret forgivin’ me. I treated you poorly and said some awful things, but I didn’t mean a single one. Killed me to say, but it’s because I was scared.” I lean back so I can see him fully. I knew that was the reason for the things he said, but I needed to hear him say it. I needed to see it and believe it to be true. “That night, leaving you here was…I’m sorry. It was all too much. I didn’t know what to do with all of that emotion. I promised not to let you get attached, and there I was, more attached than I’d ever been in my life. I lashed out and acted a fool. I promise you’ll never see that side of my ass again.” “You’re attached?” I ask quietly. “Like tick on a deer.” He winks playfully. I’m still reeling. A lot has happened and my emotions are raw. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something so badly. To the point I was afraid to trust in it. “Can I ask you a question?” “Anything.” “Why? Why me, why now?” Beaus grin is slow, his drawl low and sexy, “I met a girl.” He shrugs, “I met the girl. Then I fell in love.” Tears in my eyes, I couldn’t dim my smile even if I wanted to. “Smartest thing you’ve ever said, Beau McCrae.” Looping my arms around his neck, I press into him, reveling in the feel of his warmth and hardness against me. Amazing the difference a few hours can make. Just this morning my heart was heavy, my soul crushed, and now it’s floating so high I don’t think it’ll ever come back down.

“You ready to go to church?” he whispers in my ear, slipping his arms under my ass and lifting so that I’m wrapped around him. “The church of Beau McCrae, where there’s more to do on your knees other than pray,” I tease. “That’s the one.” “I love you.” All teasing gone, I tell him what I know to be true. I love him. Beau stills, then settles under me. “That’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said, Sugar.”

The End

EPILOGUE

Beau

T

hree Months Later…

“Beau, we gotta get outta this bed. Your mama is gonna be coming for us soon if we don’t get there to help her.” Her mouth is saying one thing, her body snuggling into my chest says another. Flipping us so that’s she’s under me, I grin down on her. Hair a tangled just-fucked mess, lips puffy from my kisses, and her skin a pretty pink shade from my beard. Yeah, I’m not letting her out of this bed just yet. “I think we have some time yet for some sugar, Sugar.” My drawl is as slow as my gaze roaming over her breasts, her nipples pebbled tight like two perfect, little berries. Bending my head, I pull one into my mouth and release it with a pop. Addy groans, arching into me. “I thought we didn’t have time?” “We might have a little,” she says sweetly. With a knowing grin, I slide down her body, kissing each little bit of skin I leave exposed. “Reckon there’s time for a little watermelon crawl?” I ask against the soft skin of her stomach. “Okay, I’ve got time for that,” she murmurs. Settling in between her legs, I press her thighs wide, leaving her open for me. My mouth hovering just above her sweet spot, I glance up to find her watching me with fire in her eyes and a flush on her cheeks. She’s beautiful. I swipe my tongue lazily through her, my eyes on her the entire time. “I love you like this,” I tell her as I hook an arm under her leg so that I can spread her wider with my fingers. She can’t help but give a little hip roll. “Like what?” she pants out. “Open and wet. Needy for my mouth on your pussy.” My thumb circles over her clit while I nibble at her thighs. Knowing that it’s sweet torture for her.

“And I love you like this.” “How’s that?” Still teasing, I place a string of kisses up her pussy without putting enough pressure to give her what she wants. “That pretty face of yours is framed by my thighs and that talented mouth all over my pussy.” Her tone is thick with the want coursing through both of us. I have zero control when she starts talking dirty and she knows it. Just hearing the word “pussy” fall from her lips drives me wild. “Told you there was so much more to do on your knees than pray.” Smirking at her moan of agreement, I do us both a favor and bury my face in her center, lapping and sucking at the soft skin of her thighs, her clit, every crease and crevice. Like the country boy I am, I devour her just as I would a piece of watermelon, sweet juices glistening on my lips, a smile on my face. I could die a happy man right here when she comes, my name a satisfied moan rolling off her tongue.

E

Addy

veryone’s here to celebrate Beau’s new release with Hard Candy. All the Wrecked boys, Willow, and Scar. Beau’s band and crew, plus Jimmy Don and Sealy. Beau’s parents, of course, and some of his friends and family I haven’t yet met. Beau’s parents have a big barn on the property that they use purely for parties like this. We even have a live band, go figure, playing from a makeshift stage. “Hey there, darlin’, how you doin’ over here?” Beau’s mama asks, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. She and I have become thick as thieves now that she and Beau had a come to Jesus about Jenny. Dropping her arm, she points. “They can be a little overwhelmin’ when they all get together,” she says of the McCrae clan huddled over by the bar setup. “Yes, ma’am, they can.” I can’t help but laugh. They’re overwhelmin’ because they’re all so damn hot. I’m not sure why she thinks they are, but I can tell you it’s the issue I’m having. Just then Beau glances my way, our eyes meeting without hesitation. Like he knows exactly where I am and he feels the heat of my gaze. He says something to the guys and strides over to us in that loose-legged walk he has. “What are my two favorite girls gettin’ up to?” Beau places a kiss to his mama’s cheek and then one to mine before slyly dragging his mouth to my ear and nipping at my lobe. I can smell myself on him mingled with his own scent. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever encountered in all my days. How I keep from dragging this man off and having my wicked way with him all the time is beside me. I can feel the heat of his gaze on me as I stand here with him and his mama and think dirty things about him. I blink quickly, smiling up at him sheepishly as his lips curl into a knowing smirk. Damn it, he knows me so well. “Nothin’ much, just admirin’ all you good lookin’ McCrae boys.” Ahhh, so we were on

the same page. “That right?” Beau asks. “Mmm hmm,” I murmur. “Oh my word, what is that man doin’? I’ll talk to you later, babies,” Jolynn calls as she barrels off after Beau’s daddy. “So you were checkin’ out my cousins, huh?” Looping his arms around me, he rests his hands on the small of my back, the thin material of my sundress doing nothing to protect me from the heat of his touch. “Just admirin’ the view is all,” I tease. “I’ve got a view for you to admire,” he retorts. “Should I take you back to the room and—” I put a hand over his mouth because God knows what filthy thing will fall from his lips. “I’m still plenty happy from earlier thank you,” I answer just as Willow and Stone come over. “Hey, you two, almost time for the big announcement,” Willow says beaming. They just came back from Canada for this party and the announcement. “Sure is,”Beau says, as he tucks me into his side. “I need to eat before any of that goes down. Your mom is killing me with all that food in there,” Stone says, jerking a thumb toward the barn. “She’s got enough to feed an army, of course.” “Good fucking thing because I’m about to eat like one,” Stone laughs, making us all join in. “You boys go grab some food while Addy and I talk girl-talk,” Willow says shooing them away. Pressing a lingering kiss to my mouth, Beau leads Stone to go grab some food. “So things are good then?” “Things are fantastic,” I answer honestly. And they are. They couldn’t be better if I dipped them in batter and fried them. Okay, I’ve been hanging out with his mama too much. “And what do your parents think of him?” she asks, knowing that would be important to me. “They love him. We just flew to Florida so that Mama could meet him. She’s been there taking care of my memaw for some time now, and Daddy’s been down too since after the build.” “That’s good! Especially because they hated Calvin.” “Everybody but me hated Calvin. That shoulda been my first red flag,” I scoff.

Willow laughs, “Ain’t that the truth.” I can look back and joke about it now, and that’s because of Beau. He’s shown me what love is supposed to look like and what it means to love someone in a capacity you never thought possible and to have them return that love. That was the real kicker. He loves me just as hard as I love him. I’m not sure what I did to deserve that love, but I know with him, it’s not something I had to coerce out of him. It just came natural. I’m still lost in my little love-haze when Beau calls my name from the barn. Willow and I both look only to find him and Stone with massive wedges of watermelon. Both of them grinnin’ like the dirty fools they are. I shake my head, my eyes squinted in laughter as Beau does lewd things to the poor fruit. “Oh God, these Texas boys. Can’t take them anywhere,” Willow chimes in, though she doesn’t seem near as disgusted as she’s trying to sound. It doesn’t take long for the party to really get going—the music is louder, the drinks and food flowing freely, people two-steppin’ around the barn. As soon as the song ends, the band calls Beau to the stage. Pressing a kiss to my temple, he strides to the stage area and hops up, thanking the band for being there and for doing such a great job. “I ought to be worried,” he chuckles into the microphone, “these boys can sing my songs almost better than I can.” The crowd gathered around him laughs along. Once they settle down, he continues, “As most of you know, I had a big summer. Lots of changes. All for the better, though I didn’t know that at first.” He grins. “I signed with a new label. Jimmy found me people who understand what music means to someone like me. Another family. And in doing so, I wrote some pretty amazing songs with some pretty amazing people. People I would have never in a million years thought of collaborating with.” I smile, because I know how sitting on this information was killing him. “Stone and I wrote a song together over the summer that we’ll feature on this album.” Everyone shouts and whistles their congratulations. People near enough are slapping a smiling Stone on the back. “But,” Beau says in the mic, quieting everyone once again. “That’s not the only thing I got out of this partnership with Hard Candy Records. I also met a girl. A woman who laid me flat on my ass.” What in the world? My hands clasped in front of me, I do my best not to lose my cool. “A woman who takes none of my shit.” That’s met with snickers all around. “A woman whose name I want to change.” My heart stops as Beau’s sexy smoldering gaze pins me to the spot. Oh my God. He didn’t just—he couldn’t have. Could he? I can feel all of the attention shift to me as I stare at Beau trying to figure out what he’s saying to me. I don’t have to wonder for long. With my eyes bulging out of my head, I watch as he jumps down from the stage and walks over to me and drops to one knee in the Texas clay. “Sugar, you’re the first person I’ve ever loved more than myself. Now I may talk slow, but I want to love you even slower.” His soft drawl tickles over me as he takes my trembling hand in his much larger, much steadier one, and slips a ring on my finger. “Let me be the one. I promise to always do the watermelon crawl, take you to church, swim in the river by the light of the moon, and to always walk the line.” I can barely see him through the tears swimming in my eyes and clinging to my lashes.

Never did I think this day would come and never did I believe it would come this quickly. “I want to write you into every one of my love songs and sing to you from the bed of a pickup truck until we’re too damn old to even climb up there.” He grins, his thumb swiping over the ring he placed on my finger. “Addy Mae Masterson, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Let me change your name,” Beau says softly. Forgetting all the people around us watching with hearts in their eyes, a sob breaks through. All I can do is nod my head yes and try not to topple him over when I launch myself at him. Finally finding my voice with my lips against his, tears of happiness falling from my eyes, I whisper, “You can take me to church. Both kinds.” I laugh when he spins me around before putting me back on my feet. Beau looks down on me, a content and happy smile splitting his lips, lips I want on me in the worst way and says in that slow, sexy drawl of his, “You bet your sweet ass I will, Sugar.”

SUGAR is just one of six scandalous romances from Best Selling Authors.

Read all about it in Expose, the gossip column to sink your teeth into.

Each story in the Expose Collection is a STANDALONE. See them all here: Expose Collection

Read on for a taste of Adriana Locke’s Expose story Lucky Number Eleven.

LUCKY NUMBER ELEVEN ADRIANA LOCKE

PROLOGUE

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Exposé Top Story: Best Making Headlines

he temperature skyrocketed in Chicago this week and it had nothing to do with the weather. Our two favorite ballers went head-to-head (or should we say helmet-to-helmet?) on the practice field and there’s video to prove it. Sources tell us the (sweaty, aggressive, hot-as-hell) fight that got Branch “Lucky” Best, Finn Miller, and visiting Columbus quarterback Callum Worthington ejected from practice (you must see this video!) was not over a fumbled play. It was over nothing less than Layla James Miller, Finn’s younger sister. Does Layla’s name sound familiar? It should. Until about five minutes ago, you could find her on Callum’s well-formed arm…until he gave us whiplash showing up in Tahiti with the face of Ares Cosmetics, Carly Mathewson. But Callum and Layla aren’t dating anymore, so where’s the beef? Give us a sec. Layla James is now scoring with Branch. Yeah. We’ll give that a minute to sink in. Word has it Finn isn’t all that hyped about his sister playing ball with his (former?) best friend. Branch’s playboy image is well-known and even better documented. A keyword search of his name on our site alone brings up thousands of hits of him with women and rarely are two the same. The question remains: why does Callum care? We’ll have to wait and see. In the meantime, we’ll be crying in our Rosé and hoping our favorite bromance gets back on track. (And, seriously, go watch that video!)

A few months prior …

1 BRANCH

“T

his is why you’re hot.”

“Really?” I sit back, lifting a water bottle to my lips and smirk. My eyes don’t leave hers. “I had no idea.” That’s a lie. This look, the one that’s currently melting her panties straight off her teeny little waist, has worked in my favor since I discovered it at the ripe old age of fourteen. Should it have worked on my math teacher? Probably not. But it did make acing algebra about a hundred times easier. I could use it then without even really knowing what I was doing. Now, with fifteen years of experience under my belt, I can play this look like a fiddle. Fanning her face with a stack of index cards outlining the questions she’s supposed to ask me for Exposé Magazine—something I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing—she blinks rapidly. “Tell me something no one knows about you.” I place the bottle on the little table beside me and shift in my seat. Her last question is the only question that is asked in every single interview I’ve ever done. Every last one. And they all think it’s so original. I used to humor reporters and give them something to print, but in the last couple of years, I’ve thought better of it. Maybe my self-promotion has gotten better. Maybe there’s less to tell (since they already know so damn much). Or maybe I’m simply a little more cynical than I used to be. Either way, I loathe this question. It’s like just because I’m a public figure they’re entitled to every detail of my life. “Branch,” she gulps, her cheeks turning a shade of crimson, “my notes from this interview aren’t going to be very … helpful.” “And why is that?” She refuses to look at me. “Let me see your notes,” I say, reaching for the index cards. “Um, no.” “Oh, come on,” I tease. “What’s on there?” “Just … I need something substantial so I don’t get fired.” The slightly pouty lips, dipped chin is a look women give me all the time.

“Nice tactic.” “Tactic?” “Yeah. You’re appealing to my emotions.” “I don’t know what else to appeal to.” Roaming my eyes down her face to the low-cut blouse that showcases a nice set of Bcups, I let them linger for a long couple of seconds before bringing them back to her eyes. I lift a brow. “I’m sure you have no idea other than appealing to my … emotions.” “Well …” Her gaze drops to the paper on her lap as she turns an even deeper shade of red. “How many interviews have you done?” “Total? Or sports?” “Total.” “Five,” she admits with a sigh. “I only got this one because the sports writer got meningitis.” “So you’re here by default?” I ask, leaning forward. My arms resting on my knees, I clasp my hands in front of me. “No. I’m here because I begged for the opportunity.” “To interview me?” I nudge. “Something like that.” “Do you beg often?” Her tongue darts across her lips, leaving a trail of wetness. “Only when necessary.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. There’s something about the gesture, a tinge of normalcy behind the overt sexiness, that makes me reconsider. As I try to talk myself out of giving in, I also wrack my brain for some fun fact that can help her save her job just in case she’s not feeding me a load of shit like I suspect she is. “I hate dogs.” Her eyes light up like a scoreboard. “You hate dogs?” “I know, I know—this is a complete asshole thing to say. I get it. But the Blaney’s Doberman left a lasting mark on more things than the back of my right thigh. For some people, it’s clowns. For me, it’s four-legged beasts. To each their own.” Her pen flurries across a legal pad, the sound reminiscent of Coach’s dry erase marker on the whiteboard at practice. “What else do you hate?” “Oh, no. I gave you one thing,” I say, not falling into her trap. “What do you love then?” “My mama.” The door leading into the makeshift interview room opens. Finn Miller struts in,

yanking a pair of sunglasses off his face. “Ready, Party Boy?” he grins. “Yeah, I think we’re done here.” I look back at the reporter as she gulps. “Got what you need?” “More or less,” she says slowly, innuendo thick in her tone. Finn chuckles beside me as I slide off the leather chair. “Thank you, Branch. For everything,” she says, her voice all breathy. “Dear Lord, what did you give this one?” Finn asks. “An exclusive,” I joke, shoving my Legends hat backwards on my blond hair. “Oh, that’s what we’re calling it these days?” The reporter, whose name I didn’t catch, clutches her notes to her chest. “Maybe we can all three do something together one day.” “That’s called a threesome and I’m in,” Finn deadpans. Her mouth drops open. “I meant an interview!” “Sure you did,” he chuckles, holding the door open for me. “Let’s go, Branch. Time’s a-wastin’.” “Good luck with your column.” Giving her a nod, I follow Finn into the deserted hallway. There’s a spring in his step that worries me a little as we make our way towards the elevators. Why I agreed to accompany him on a weekend getaway without actually getting details is beyond me. The last time I did this we ended up ice fishing in Michigan. Who does that? “Where are we going again?” I ask, hoping he’ll forget he didn’t tell me and just spill it. No such luck. He punches the down button for the elevator and leans against the wall. “You’ll love it. I promise.” By the cheesy grin on his face, I have doubts.

CHAPTER 2 LAYLA

Poppy Quinn wrinkles her perfect button nose at me “H ow ya doing over there?” from the driver’s seat. “That face isn’t my favorite on you.” “Um, I only have one face.” “That would be incorrect,” she says matter-of-factly, turning her gaze back to the winding road ahead. “You have a bunch of faces and that one, the one you’re making right now, makes me feel like downing a shot of tequila.” “Everything makes you feel like downing a shot of tequila.” The scenery turned green at some point over the last hour, the greyscale of Chicago washing away with the vividness of lush grasses and dense forests as we head south. I’ve taken this trek countless times to the little cabin my parents purchased on Lake Michigan when I was a baby. My older brother, Finn, and I spent every summer up here until we moved out and went to college. Glancing at Poppy’s furrowed brow, I sigh. “I’m fine. I promise.” “It was the song on the radio, wasn’t it? You were fine until it came on.” “I am fine,” I insist, sitting up a little taller in my seat. “I’m on my way to my favorite place in the world with my favorite person in the world,” I say, laughing as she dramatically places a hand on her heart. “That’s so touching. Hits me right in the feels.” “What’s there to be upset about?” I forge on. “Just that my ex-boyfriend is on a vacation to Tahiti, one that I was supposed to be on with him, that I planned, mind you. Instead, he’s with Carly Mathewson, the model he’s probably been cheating on me with. No biggie.” Fists clenched at my sides, I imagine Callum Worthington with that blonde bimbo in the perfect over-the-water bungalow that I picked out. My feelings about him are all over the place. I had myself convinced I was in love with him, but I’m too not upset about not being with him anymore to have really loved him. My anger isn’t even from losing him. It’s from feeling like I was a little placeholder in his bed until he was ready to move a new body in my place. The fact that she’s a freaking model is just icing on the cake.

My mom says mistakes aren’t mistakes unless you fail to learn from them. I definitely learned from this Callum ordeal—most of all that I’d be capable of setting my morality aside if the situation were right. I’d have no qualms about going all Misery on him if I could get away with it. My conscience is eased by the fact he’d probably like the attention. Second of all, I learned to trust my gut. I was at a football game with a friend that interviewed players for a pseudo-sports blog. Callum and I started talking while she was finishing up with the coach, and when I looked up, it was a year later and he was telling me he didn’t want to see me anymore. My gut told me that day to stay away from him. I was turned off by how much he talked about himself and found some of the simplest thing annoying. Still, his charm could be turned on and his gestures grand when he wanted them to be and it was enough for me to consider I was just being picky. I should’ve been pickier. “You know,” I say, “I just wish I knew why.” “Why what?” “Why he bothered to lead me along if I didn’t matter…and I obviously didn’t matter. Did he love me? Did he cheat on me with everyone I suspected?” Looking at Poppy over my shoulder, I shrug. “It just hurts my feelings.” “I’m going to try super hard to remember that I have to validate your feelings, even when they’re stupid—” “Really?” “Yes, really,” she insists. “It’s been three months and who the hell cares why he told you to leave? Just be glad he did.” “Yeah …” “You can’t seriously miss the dick.” “Oh, I do miss the dick,” I say, tongue-in-cheek. Her laugh floats through the car, her long, dark locks shining in the summer sunlight. “So he could deliver more than a well-timed pass, huh?” “He was decent. Not the best, not the worst. I think he thought just being Callum Worthington gave him another couple of inches.” “I told you not to trust a quarterback,” she reminds me. “You should listen to me more. I know things.” “And you knew he was no good just because he’s a quarterback?” “Yup. Think about it. Quarterbacks only release the ball. In the grand scheme of things, it’s telling about their make-up.” “Oh, smart one, please tell me more.” “Let’s backtrack,” she says, making a circle pattern in the air with her finger. “You dated a kicker before Callum, right?”

“Yes.” “And you had to constantly bolster his confidence, right?” “Yes.” “That’s because kickers have all the pressure. Ever heard of ‘icing the kicker’?” “How does this have to do with Callum?” I laugh. “Quarterbacks don’t take hits well and if they don’t perform, they’re traded for something better. Plus,” she continues, “they pass the ball. They don’t hold on to it for long. It’s a clear sign of commitment issues. Once they’re in the pocket for too long, if you feel me, or feel too much pressure, they down the ball. Throw that thing at the ground if they have to.” “You’re crazy,” I giggle. “I’m a thinker,” she says, tapping her temple. “On that note, I don’t think you should date more football players.” “You and Finn both.” “Me and Finn. I like the sound of that,” she winks. Before I can reply, she hustles on. “If you’re all not heartbroken, why are you hauling my city ass to the country for the weekend? You know I don’t do things like … this,” she says with a wave towards the cornfields lining both sides of the road. “I’m not heartbroken, but that doesn’t mean I want to sit around and think about being traded for a model. That bruises the ‘ol ego a little, you know?” “Just tell Finn to put a bounty on him when they play Columbus.” “I think that’s already done,” I laugh. “He had a moving company come get my stuff back to Chicago and the one guy told me my brother said he had their bail money plus a bonus if they could get a fist in Callum’s face.” “I love your brother.” I give her a look. Poppy and my brother have definitely hooked up in the past. It’s usually for just a night, sometimes two, in the midst of a celebration. They’re both fun, kind of goofy, and two of the biggest flirts I know. They’re also two of my favorite people in the world. I think they could be great for each other, with some work. While loyalty may be a strong trait of both, monogamy is not. “I don’t like that face either,” she grins. “It’s judgey.” “Weren’t you just telling me a minute ago how bad football players are for my health?” “No, I was telling you how bad kickers and quarterbacks are. I didn’t say a word about tight ends, and I think Finn Miller has one hell of a tight end.” “Ew,” I say, making a face. “That’s my brother.”

“That’s one heck of a fine specimen whether he’s your brother or not—” “There!” I spot the rusted blue gate that indicates the start of our property and almost jump up and down in my seat. “Ooh! This is it!” “Don’t have a heart attack on me.” The gravel cracks under the weight of the SUV as we slip through the gates and follow a narrow track up the hill. “You’ll love it up here,” I gush, taking in the familiar surroundings. “The lake is beautiful, and there are no neighbors for a mile or so any direction. There’s a little town not too far away where you can get the best lemon cake ice cream anywhere.” “Sounds rad,” she mutters. “It is rad,” I sigh happily. “I haven’t been up here since Callum tossed me to the curb so he could move Carly in or whatever the hell he’s doing, so just pretend to love it so I can be happy.” “That’s what I’m here for. To make you happy.” “This is why I love you,” I say, patting her on the shoulder. With each roll of the tires, my problems drift a little further away and memories of my childhood roll in. Summers filled with flip-flops, hamburgers grilled on the back porch, s’mores, and lightning bugs come flittering back, making my cheeks ache. The windows go down as butterflies scatter from the tall grass lining the driveway and the glistening water appears in front of us. It’s the color of the sky before a storm—a deep, dark blue. Waves splash happily against the shoreline, and I close my eyes and just revel in being here. Poppy pilots the car to the front of the house and shuts off the ignition. “Oh, this is gorgeous.” “It so is,” I sigh, opening my eyes and pointing towards the lake. “Look at how peaceful the water is today.” “Uh, I was talking about that …”

You can get Lucky Number Eleven here: Buy Now

FROM MANDI

As always, I must start by thanking you for taking a chance on me. For choosing me when there are so many amazing books by amazingly talented authors out there. I’m still, and always, humbled and beyond grateful. Each book I write, I do so with you in mind. Thank you for your unwavering support.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I have to start by thanking my husband and my boys. Every single day they make me who I am and give me the chance to live out all of my dreams. The dream of being a wife, a mom and now an author. Without their love and encouragement and ability to go with the flow when our life is thrown into total chaos while I race against deadlines I wouldn’t last five minutes in this industry. Ran, my husband, my best friend. You are the ultimate book boyfriend. You make me want to be a better me and love me even when I’m not. I couldn’t life without you. Love you, baby.

To my boys, put this book down right this second! But knowing you you’re not listening to me so just know that I love you and thank you for being proud of me and super braggy about me being an author. I love you a bushel and a peck!

To my girls, Even though you’re a thousand miles away doing your own thing, I love you just as much as when we were all under the same roof and hanging with your parents wasn’t quite so lame. Xoxo

To my mom, dad, sister and brother, Thanks so much for all he love and support. You’re still not allowed to read this.

To my peers and fellow authors who offer advice and support and friendship just because we’re all in this together. It takes so much to release a book from beginning to end not too mention the time spent in between. I’m so grateful to have such wonderful people in my corner. Especially, Adriana Locke, Corinne Michaels, Cora Cade, Kennedy Ryan, Rebecca Yarros and Shea, Beth Ehemann, KL Grayson, MC Decker and Gia Riley to name a VERY few. I could sit here and list them forever and I still wouldn’t touch on all the

talented authors I have to turn to when I need them. Whether it’s a pat on the back or a kick in the ass. So thank you. From the bottom of my cold black heart.

Addy, WE DID IT! Lol It almost killed us but we got it and I wouldn’t have done it without you. Thanks for always including me and for being the best easy friend a girl could ask for.

My Beta and proofreading team, Carleen, Candace and Steph, Joy, Emma, Jen and Susan: It takes a village and I can’t thank you enough for your help and your eyes and your friendship.

Bitchesnachos, You’re my shit. Love you all to bits.

Carleen, You know how much I hate this but I couldn’t not tell you that I love you. That your friendship and willingness to drop everything to help mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I promise your guy is coming. Now I need to go wash this off.

Coco, My fiercest friend. Thank you so much for being you always! I love you a ton and will never let you quit me.

Corinne, My friend for life. You inspire me to do better and keep on my ass when I start to slip. I love you a ton. More than a ton.

Emma Louise, You’re too good to me always and I am so lucky to call such a talented, kind person my friend. Love ya lots!

Ladies of Exposè: Addy, Ava, Frankie, Mia and Willow,

Thank you so much for doing this with me. It was such a pleasure and an honor to work together on this project. You ladies are pretty damn amazing and ridiculously talented! xoxo

Kari, Thank you for always being my beck and call girl! You make such beauty in such a short amount of time. I promise to one day not be last minute Lisa. But probably not.

Lauren, My books are more beautiful because of you. You inspire me with your visions and help me to create art. I love you a ton and am so grateful for your friendship and support. Thank you for always being there.

Life…ish members, Thank you for always being a drama free place to talk about everything and anything.

Lisa, The best editor in the world. Thank you for being so amazing and FLEXIBLE. And also for still not quitting me although I make you work so hard.

Mandi Beck’s Books, You guys make my world go round. My happy place no matter what’s happening in Facebooklandia. Thank you for being with me.

Mandi’s Lover and Fighters, I hope to one day make you work harder lol Thank you for being in my corner even when you have nothing to do.

Mellie, My favorite dirty girl. Thank you for being my queen researcher. I love you to bits. Thank you for always having my back even when it’s not the easiest decision.

Stephy Poo, Thank you so much for always being there to help me whether it’s book related or just

being a friend. You’re a constant in my life that I’m forever grateful for. Thank you. Love you a ton!

Give Me Books, Thank you so much for being my go to on this project. You’ve all been so uncredibly wonderful!

To the ladies of IG, TEACH ME YOUR WAYS! Lol seriously, thank you for all the love and the encouragement and the beauty you make out of my words.

Last but not least to the Bloggers big and small and all pints in between, You are the heart of our community. Your job gets harder and harder as more and more incredible books are released. Thank you for choosing me. Even if it’s not to read but to help promote and get the word out there. You’re amazing and I thank you.

Nita Banks, You’re a trailer genius and I love your face. Pretty enough to be a model.

I’m sure I have forgotten someone and I promise it wasn’t on purpose. If you feel forgotten I am incredibly sorry and I promise you were not. I can’t do any of this alone and thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

ABOUT MANDI

Mandi Beck has been an avid reader all of her life. A deep love for books always had her jotting down little stories on napkins, notebooks, and her hand. As an adult she was further submerged into the book world through book clubs and the epicness of social media. It was then that she graduated to writing her stories on her phone and then finally on a proper computer. A nursing student, mother to two rambunctious and somewhat rotten boys, and stepmom to two great girls away at college, she shares her time with her husband in Chicago where she was born and raised. Mandi is a diehard hockey fan and blames the Blackhawks when her deadlines are not met.

ALSO BY MANDI STONED A Wrecked Novel Amazon US Amazon UK Amazon AU Amazon CA

RHYTHM Wrecked Novella 1.5

LOVE HURTS Caged Love Series Book One Amazon US Amazon UK Amazon AU

LOVE BURNS Caged Love Series Book Two Amazon US Amazon UK Amazon AU

TWISTED An Imperfect Love Kindle Worlds story Amazon

FIND MANDI

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STONED MANDI BECK

PROLOGUE STONE

H

ead swimming, hands clammy, and with cold sweat trickling down my spine, I stand on the stage with the lights beaming down on me, hotter than the fucking sun. With the music humming through my body, I let the deafening roar of the crowd wash over me like a balm to my toxic soul. I would kill for a fucking line of blow right now. This should be more important than any high. Then again, so should she. I shake my head to rid myself of that shit and the world of hurt that goes along with it. There’s no time to waste on things I can’t change, not on this stage anyway. I smile at them, raise my arms, and motion with my hands for them to give me more, and they do. I feed off their energy; the stadium is alive with it and I need it to breathe life back into me. Not that I fucking deserve it. Reaching for my mic stand, I bring it to my mouth and give them my “rock star” smirk. The one that says I’m the guy your mama warned you about and the one that your daddy has dreaded since the day you were born. “Hello New York!” I yell into the mic, making them go even crazier. “Are you guys ready to rock?” Behind the drums, I give Lawson the cue to start the countdown and the show begins despite the fact that my heart isn’t really in it tonight. She isn’t waiting in the wings for me. Two hours later we head off stage toward the dressing rooms and the after parties that I love a little too much. Wiping the sweat from my face, I almost miss her standing there with her back against the wall, that sad damn look on her face that I put there. Willow was here. I was crazy to think she wouldn’t be. With new- found confidence I watch as she gives the guys a wave as they greet her. Knowing that something isn’t right with us, the boys are smart enough not to linger. “Willow.” Her name leaves my mouth on a strained breath. I was sure that I would have to hunt her down and beg for forgiveness after the shit I said to her. The accusations I hurled all while tears streamed down her face. Shit I can barely remember because I was so fucking high. Words that I thought I’d said in a dream, only when I woke up to find her gone, I knew it wasn’t a dream. More like a goddamn nightmare, and I was living it. “I need to get my things out of the hotel room, and I don’t have my key. My name isn’t on the reservation so they won’t give me one at the front desk. I wasn’t sure if you were

planning to leave right after the show or not, so…” She trails off. “I won’t take long, and I’ll leave it at the front desk for you, for when you get back.” All of this is said in a cold, detached ramble that I’m not used to hearing from my Wills. Her face looks drawn, her eyes red-rimmed. I broke her and that kills me. We’ve been together for years, and in one night, I threw it all away. And for what? I can’t even remember right now. No, that’s not true. It wasn’t just one night. I’ve been throwing her away every damn night for months. Chasing that high, letting the paranoia seep in where it didn’t belong. “I just need to grab my stuff and then I have a flight to catch.” She’s so…empty. Void and despondent. It stabs at my insides. Bile churning with the knowledge that I snuffed out her light. “You—you’re leaving Wills?” The pain I feel at that rocks me. Shaking her head at me, I see the tears glistening in her hollowed out eyes. “Don’t. Don’t call me that! The only reason that I’m even still here is because my purse is in the room with my phone and ID in it. Otherwise, I would be home by now.” There’s an underlying thread of hysteria and damning heard in her words. It hits me then just how big of a bastard I really am. I hurt her, forced her to walk out on me last night, all because of my insecurities, my need to occupy that place of numbness, my heaven and her hell. And now she tells me that she had no phone, no money, no clothes. Nothing. “Where did you stay last night, Wills? Where did you go without your purse?” She flinches mildly and then shuts down again. “Don’t worry about it, Stone. I’m not your concern anymore. You don’t have to take care of my ‘needy ass.’ I can take care of myself.” I can see the anger flaring, red creeping across her beautiful face, but I can also see her lip quivering as she recounts the hurtful things I said to her last night. Words meant to hurt but that were in no way true. I was a dick, I screwed up, and I know in my heart she won’t give me a chance to make it right. I pushed her too far for too long, and now she’s done. “Willow, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean any of it. I was drunk and stupid. Please, baby, let’s talk about it. As soon as the tour is over we can go away just you and me.” There’s desperation in my voice, fear lacing my words. I can’t lose her. I’m not me without her. “I’m finished talking. I am sick of being accused of things I would never do. I am over walking on eggshells with you, afraid to upset you. Worrying that I’ll end up alone in our room again, in another strange city that I followed you to, wondering where you are and who you’re with and what you’re doing. Hoping this high won’t be the one that you take too far. I’m done with all of it. I love you and I have stood by you, putting up with all of it because I wanted to support you. To be there for you because I know that you are under a lot of pressure, but now I’m done. I’m going home. I see now that I never should have left.” This is all said with such finality that I feel panic bubbling up inside me. I open my

mouth to beg her to stay and talk when a trashy-looking blonde walks up and slides her hand up my arm. “Stone, I thought you were going to call me,” she whines as she strokes her fingers back and forth over the tattoo on my arm, the willow tree that I got as a surprise for my girl long ago. I snatch my arm away from the blonde and look up at Wills, my eyes wild. “Baby, it’s not what you think. I swear to you, Wills, it isn’t.” I have no clue if that’s the truth. “Save it, Stone. I heard you loud and clear last night. You’re not made for one woman. I was stupid to think that you were. Can you please just give me the key so I don’t miss my flight?” Her voice is laced with the anger and pain that she’s feeling, that we’re both feeling. “Will—” “Please!” she cries out, stomping her foot. I’ve never seen her this way. So emotional yet detached at the same time. The blonde still standing there, watching it all. I shake my head, imploring her with my eyes, since my words don’t mean anything right now, begging for her to not do this. Taking in a painful breath, I pull out my wallet and take out the room key. Handing it over to her, I try one more time. “Willow, please don’t leave. Not like this,” I plead with her. She takes the key card from me with a trembling hand, careful not to touch me when she does. “I’ll be out of the house by the time you get back into town. I’ll leave my keys over at the studio with Addy,” she says, looking right through me. She flicks a glance over at the girl who still hasn’t moved and then back to me. “You got what you wanted, Stone. You’re single and free to do whatever and whoever you want without having to worry about sneaking around. Don’t keep her waiting — she looks like a sure thing.” With that little parting remark, I watch the woman of my dreams walk away and out of my life. There isn’t enough music in the world that could make the pain of losing her go away. This isn’t where our song ends; I won’t let it. Only I’m not sure I have much of a choice. And just like that, my heart stops beating in rhythm.

CHAPTER 1 STONE

I

raise my fist to pound on the door again when it flies open. Judge stands with a phone to his ear and gestures me into the suite that he’s sharing with Lawson. Squeezing by him, I toss my duffel onto the floor and drop down next to Law on the couch. He gives me a high five and puts a finger to his lips to indicate we need to stay quiet while Judge handles whatever on the phone. I nod in understanding and drop my head back and close my eyes, my head heavy from the pills I just took but my mind feeling light. Free. This fucking tour has lasted forever. The longest eight months of my fucking life and I’m ready to be done with it. Ready to be home with Wills. I’m jostled by an elbow in the ribs. “Yo. What the fuck, man?” My eyes bounce around a little, my vision dancing before focusing on Law. “You high, Stone?” he asks, concern evident in his tone. “No. Just tired.” The lie slips from my lips effortlessly. I’m so used to it now. They need to stop riding my ass. Watching me and asking every five fucking minutes if I’m using. I make every show, sing the songs, never miss a beat, so what it matters, I don’t fucking know. His eyes narrow, assessing me, trying to decide if I’m lying. Judge breaks our stare down. “What’s with the duffel?” I pull a cigarette out and light it, taking a drag before answering “I’m going home. Willow’s gonna be pissed that I haven’t been home yet. She hates being there alone.” Law opens his mouth to say something when there’s a knock at the door. Blowing smoke rings, I watch Judge go and let whoever it is in. I’m not sure who called a band meeting, but we’re all here. Arrow enters the suite with chin lifts in greeting. “You look like shit, man,” Arrow informs me, as he folds his lanky build onto the love seat across from me. “You’re a real sweet talker, you know that?” Flicking ashes into the empty beer bottle on the table next to me, I watch him eyeball me just like Law did. “Stone is going home…to Willow,” Judge informs them. Ro’s head swings in Judge’s direction and then back to me. “Willow is home?” The disbelief in his voice pisses me off. “Why the fuck wouldn’t she be? She’s pissed at me, but it’s Wills. She’ll be there.”

Rising from my seat, I go to the bar and fill a glass with ice, cracking open the bottle of Johnnie Walker that Judge always requests in each of our rooms. Mine was missing this trip. It didn’t go unnoticed. I’m glad his is still full. Once I’ve drained the glass I refill it, taking it back to the couch with me. The warmth of the smooth liquor mixing with the relaxing effects of the Oxy I popped before coming down here, and I feel good. Numb. Until I look up and see them all watching me, their looks a mix between disgust, pity, shock, and trepidation. “What? Why the fuck are you all staring at me?” I bellow. “Always fucking watching me. I’m sick of it.” Shaking my head, I take my seat, careful not to spill my drink as I fall back into the supple leather, my legs stretched out in front of me. Ignoring my question, Ro speaks up. “Bro, she left more than eight months ago, dropped her keys off at the studio with Addy, and none of us have talked to her since. We even hired a PI who can’t find Willow,” he says carefully. “Have you heard from her at all? Has there been new news from the guy Addy hired?” “No. I’m positive she’s there though. Where the fuck is she gonna go, Ro? This is my Wills; she wouldn’t just quit me. Her aunt’s dead; we’re her only family. She didn’t leave,” I tell him in exasperation. “She didn’t just ‘quit’ you, Stone. You pushed too fucking far and forced her out,” he spits out. He’s still mad at me for Willow leaving. He hasn’t said it, but I know he is. His soft spot for her a little more than brotherly I think, and it’s really starting to piss me the fuck off. “You don’t know shit, Arrow. Wills is at home. You’ll see.” I’m sure of it. She has to be. “Stone, bro, maybe it’s time to get some help. Judge and I will set it all up, and I’ll do all that I can to fin—” I interrupt Law and shoot to my feet, “I don’t need help with anything. Not with Wills, or anything else.” Slamming back my drink I put the glass down and scoop up my bag. “I’ll be in Austin if you need me. If not, I’ll see you in a couple weeks when we head back out.” Without another word I stalk out of the room past all of their condemning fucking looks and slam the door behind me. The walls rattling from the ferocity. Fuck them.

T

he car comes to a stop in front of my house at the end of Comanche Trail. Dane, my bodyguard, turns from the passenger seat. “You gonna be okay, Stone? I can stay here tonight if you want.” Reaching for the handle with a trembling hand, I shake my head no. I just want to get inside, get my hands on Willow, and get out from under the prying eyes of Dane so that I can find my stash and pop an Oxy, maybe two, and just chill with my girl. I’d love a fucking line right now, but that’ll have to wait ’til later when my contact here in town drops some off. Can’t fly with that shit and can’t make any stops on the way home because Dane would lose his fucking mind, so I made arrangements. “Nah. I’m good. Just gonna Netflix and chill with Wills, don’t need you around for

that,” I tell him with a smirk as I step from the vehicle. “Stone, Willo—” “Is here.” My voice holds more confidence than I feel, but I’m all about if you believe it, it will be. And I need it to be. I slam the door before he can say anything else and throw my hand up in a wave as I make my way up to the front door. Sliding my key into the lock, I rush into the eerie quiet of the house, the only sound the beeping of the alarm as I go to the wall to disable it. Duffel dropped at my feet, I place my guitar case down and step over it and walk into the kitchen. No Willow. From there I head into the living room, noticing that there’s a picture missing from the mantel, and no Willow. Bounding up the spiral staircase I crash into our bedroom and throw on the lights. My heart frantic, my gaze touching on everything, but seeing only the things that are missing. No book on her nightstand, no jewelry on the dresser, no picture of her parents, no music journal. Stalking to the dresser I start yanking open drawers leaving them hanging haphazardly. No panties, no shirts, no pajamas. There’s a roaring in my ears that has me unable to hear a fucking thing other than my outof-rhythm heartbeat as I rip open the door to the bathroom. No perfume, no lotion, no brush. I move to her closet. No dresses, no pants, no shoes. No. Willow. No fucking Willow. “No. No. No. NO!” My yells echo around the bathroom, ricocheting in all of the empty spaces and bouncing back to slap me in the face. “No.” Determined to find her, I dash out of the room and barrel down the stairs into the basement studio and wrench open the heavy door. No custom-made Martin, just an empty stand. No laptop. Just a music-less room. No Willow. With my chest heaving, struggling to get my mind right, I slide onto the piano bench, placing my forehead to the cool, polished wood. Finally, I admit to myself what I’d already known. What I knew the moment I called and the phone was disconnected. What deep down I’d known from the moment I watched her walk away but denied because who the fuck was I without her? Willow was gone. She’d left me. And there was not one single person I could blame other than myself. Raising my head, my gaze lands on the framed picture that she put on the piano in every place we’d ever lived in. The picture that was left behind. The picture of us on the red carpet for the very first time. Our hands are locked and Willow beams up at me in pride, her smile so beautiful, the happiness radiating through the photo. And me, looking down into her upturned face, love and need reflected in my gaze, in the way I touched her. Her favorite picture, and she left it…and me. Snatching the picture up I exit the studio and head upstairs, grabbing a bottle of tooexpensive whiskey from the pantry as well as the bottle of Oxy I had stashed in the medicine cabinet of the guest bathroom. I try not to look around me, pretending like there aren’t any voids in the room. That I’m not missing anything, as I snag my guitar and collapse onto the couch. The picture in my hand feels like lead. I place it on the coffee table in front of me, sitting back I stare at it, willing Willow to walk out of it and into my arms. How the fuck was she gonna leave me? After all that we’ve been through, she fucking left me? Yanking my phone out of my pocket, I try calling her again, but again I get the same detached voice telling me that the number has been disconnected. “Son of a

bitch!” I roar as I whip the phone at the exposed brick wall of the living room, watching as it shatters into a million fucking glittery pieces. With fumbling hands, I pop open the top on the pills, spilling a few of them onto the hand-scraped wood table and using the bottom of my whiskey bottle to crush them into a fine powder. From my wallet I pull out a credit card and arrange the crushed up pills into even little lines, not caring that I’m losing so much of the precious powder in the grooves and valleys of the rough wood. Tossing the card aside, I reach into the hidden pocket and wiggle out the little aluminum straw nestled there. Head bent over the table I blow through all four rails of Oxy, one after another, relishing the burn that comes just before the numbing fog. “How you gonna do me like that, Wills?” I ask the empty room. The empty house. The empty fucking life I’m suddenly living in. Whiskey in one hand, I reach for the picture I’d brought upstairs. My vision is blurred but I don’t need to see to remember what Willow looked like in it. How beautiful her dress had been, her hair, her smile. I don’t need to see to remember us winning our first award and her showing me just how proud of me she had been. I remember all of that. The way she tasted that night in the back of the limo, and every day after. I don’t need to see shit to remember how she likes to be touched. The soft smell of her skin. All of that is ingrained on my soul. I don’t need to see…what I can no longer see. Mind racing, trying to recall every little thing Willow, I take a long pull from the bottle in my hand. Liquid fire hits my stomach; I welcome it. I need it to forget. The part of me needing to let her memory go has me tipping back the whiskey once again, but it doesn’t make her go away quick enough. So I take another swig and then another ’til there’s only a swallow left. Limbs heavy, eyes shaky, I can still see her, hear her. With fingers that feel disconnected from the rest of me, I dig out three pills and toss them in my mouth, crunching them between my molars and shuddering from the bitter taste. Washing it away with the last drops of whiskey.

I

don’t know how long I sit there just strumming and humming, falling in and out of sleep, but it seems like days when the doorbell finally chimes. Staggering to my feet I make my way to answer it, knowing it’s going to be my boy with my goodies. As I walk by the clock hanging on the wall, I see that it’s already morning. I’ve been sitting here for hours. “What took you so long?” I ask, my tongue thick in my dry mouth. “Sorry, dude, I didn’t know you were back in town, and I was on a run. I know how you feel about me sending anyone else. You’re gonna be really happy to see me when you get a taste of this shit though,” he says excitedly. Probably high on whatever he’s brought already. I throw the door open wider for him to enter and head back into the living room. “Your girl’s not here, right?” His eyes dart around the room nervously looking for Willow. “No, wouldn’t have called you if she was,” I bite out Ron throws his hands up in surrender. “My bad. I got something to take that edge off.

You’ll be pissing fucking rainbows and shit,” he laughs at himself. “Just lay the shit out, I’ll be right back.” My mood has gone to absolute shit, him asking about Willow bringing my reality crashing down on me. Stalking from the room, I head down to the studio to where the safe is and pull out a stack of cash. I don’t count it, he won’t either. It’s way more than I’ll owe him, but I don’t care. I just want him to give me the drugs and get the fuck out. I give him extra so he doesn’t talk to the press or anyone else. It’s the perfect setup. He makes a few thousand off of me, I score and we’re both happy. With that thought in mind, my steps are lighter as I bound up the stairs and back to where Ron is. I just need that numb and then tomorrow I can work on finding Wills. “Holy fuck. Did you think I was throwing a party?” I laugh a little in surprise at all he has on my coffee table. Baggies filled with rainbow colored pills, pristine white powder, green buds, a brownish powder along with a few others I can’t make out in the dim light. My palms start to sweat at the sight of it all and I wipe them down the front of my jeans. Anxious to get him out of here. “I know that’s not how you operate, but I’m going out of town on another run and I wanted to be sure you had all you would need. I brought some new shit too. You usually stick with just the pills and Yao, but you have got to try this Black,” he says nudging the bag with the weed in it toward me. Plopping down next to him, I toss the banded money at him and pick up the baggie. “You know I don’t smoke this shit.” Holding it up to the light I see that it’s not only green but also brown and white mixed in. Like it’s been rolled in something. “What the fuck is it?” “Bro, it’s weed laced with opium and meth. Get you so high you’ll be feeling good for days.” His face takes on a dreamy smile, like he’s reminiscing about a fond memory and not trying to sell me on some shit. I toss it back at him. “I’m not fucking with meth. Just the blow and all the pills. You can take the rest of that with you.” I don’t need any of the other shit. “All the pills?” Glancing at the dozen or so baggies before looking back up at me with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, I’m heading back out in a couple weeks. Not sure when I’ll be able to hit you up again.” My leg starts bouncing, the need for him to leave stronger and stronger the more we talk. I don’t want to talk to him about this shit. I want him to drop and go. I’m not a social user. You won’t find me sharing a line with anyone. I hide away from the world to be alone with whatever it is I’m dipping into. Maybe because I know I need to hide it from Willow, from the guys. And I’ve become accustomed, maybe because in a way I feel if nobody sees me doing it, then I’m not actually doing anything wrong, as fucked up as that sounds. I stand and gather up all the plastic bags, dropping them in a box on the end table, signaling for him to get the rest of his stuff. I start making my way to the door—I’m finished with him and now he needs to get the fuck out. He takes the hint and slides everything back into his backpack and hurries after me.

“OK, man. Just message me when you get back into town. Always a pleasure doing business with you.” With a little salute he jogs to his Hummer, climbs in and drives away. Finally. With a steadying breath, I walk back to my couch, stopping at a painting hanging on the wall of me and Wills. It was from a shoot we did for the label. Snatching it up, I saunter over to the end table and grab one from there as well before sitting on the couch. I place the pictures next to me—I’m now surrounded by Willow. My fingers brushing over the canvas, I gaze longingly at our tangled limbs, my hands buried in her hair, and let the pain of losing her wash over me. She was mine. I had her. Reaching for one of the little bags full of pills, I dump four tablets in my hand, not sure what they are and not caring. I toss them back, swallowing past the dryness of my parched throat. I’m ready to not feel. I don’t want to miss her; I don’t want to remember. Just want to be numb. Lighting a cigarette, I take a long drag, looking down at the picture under my hand through a haze of smoke. Slowly I trace the lines of her leg, her arm. Without thinking I begin tracing out words to our song across the canvas just like I would on her skin. The rhythmic motion of my fingers calms me. That and whatever pills I took. When I start to feel too tired to hold my head up, I grab for the bag of coke. Tapping some out on the table, I pick up the straw and blow through a few lines. I’m not ready to sleep. When I sleep, I dream about Wills, and I can’t handle that shit right now. Another smoke clamped between my teeth, I light it and go back to my tracing. After a few passes though I know something’s not right. That I’m not right. Squeezing my eyes shut I trace over and over, cigarette pinched between my fingers, trying to focus on my breathing that’s getting harder and harder. To the empty room I whisper the lyrics to the song I’m leaving behind in ashes on the canvas. Doing my best to ignore the riot I feel going on inside of me. Fuck me. I’m done. I’m a dead man. I should be more upset, but without Willow, I honestly don’t think I give a fuck. At least I’m not doing it with my dick in my hand. Plus, all the greats go out at twenty-seven, right? Close the curtains, baby. I can hear the fat lady singing.

T

here are muffled voices around me that I can’t make out. Each word slices through my head like an axe. One whack after another as I try to chase after them. My eyes dart around behind closed lids, the lights on the other side of them unable to penetrate the darkness. Even as it burns them and sends shooting pain to my already tortured brain. I can smell that I’m in a hospital although I can’t pry my eyes open to see. I can smell the death and sickness, the cloying antiseptic mixed with too sweet flowers. Not sure how the fuck I got here, but it can’t be good. I try to speak but can’t make my mouth move and give up, instead trying to block everything out and disappear back into the void. Just as I start to drift again I hear someone say, “Willow,” but I don’t have the strength to stay and try to listen to what they’re talking about. To find out if she’s here. But then I hear it again and I have to fight the pull, the darkness and quiet, no matter how much it hurts. Prying my eyes open, I blink rapidly, moaning at the pain. I try to raise my hands to cover my eyes, but I can’t. They’re being held by someone, or something. Blinking I try to bring the room into focus, but it’s like being in the middle of a fucking snow globe.

Everything is fuzzy and sounds like we’re underwater. Law’s face swims in front of me. I can hear him calling for me as someone I don’t know pulls him away. I try to call out to him, but nothing comes out. And then everything slows, and quiets, and it all fades to black.

T

he pounding in my head is like a persistent tapping instead of the all out hammering it was before. My throat is scratchy and my mouth has to be full of cotton. The light sneaking in under my cracked lids doesn’t make me cry out in pain like it did before, so I open them slowly, bit by bit. Afraid to move my body since my insides literally ache, I scan the room without turning my head. Covered in flowers it looks like a God damn funeral home. Next to my bed Law sits in a chair, head thrown back, snoring softly, with his feet propped on the end of my bed. Nudging his foot with mine, I watch as he comes to. When his eyes land on mine, I do my best to give a small smile, but I can’t around the tube protruding from my mouth. “Hey, man, hey. Don’t try to talk. I’ll get the nurse,” Law says excitedly. I try to move my arms to swipe at the annoying tube, but find again that someone is holding them down. Only there’s no one else in the room. Tearing my gaze away from Lawson’s face, I look down to find my wrists strapped to the bed with thick, padded leather. What the ever loving fuck? I yank and struggle, but they don’t budge, and all I do is tire myself out. With wild eyes I search for Law who stepped into the doorway to call for someone. He comes back to the bed with a man dressed in scrubs right behind him. “You’re awake. Fucking hell. I’m so happy to see your ugly fucking ass awake.” He doesn’t look happy. I try to raise my hands again to pull the tube from my throat so I can speak, and again, there’s no give. The man in the scrubs is talking to me but I can’t hear him over the screaming in my head. He shines a light in first one eye and then the other, and still he speaks and still I can’t make out what he’s saying. I try to convince the demons inside me howling in anger to quiet, but it’s no use, and before I can bend them to my will, I feel myself slipping away again.

W

eeks, days, minutes, hours…I have no clue how much time has passed, only that I’ve slipped in and out. Awake long enough to see that Willow isn’t here. Long enough for the guys to jump excitedly, the doctors to pierce my skull with their little light in my eyes, and then I’m gone. This time, this time feels different though. My skull isn’t throbbing, just pulsing. My eyes feel full of grit, my mouth and throat too. It’s clear of the tube though, so that’s a plus. Testing to see what else they’ve freed me of I flex my wrists but no luck. I’m still strapped to this fucking bed. Blinking the room into focus, I see Law sitting in the same chair next to me, looking down at his phone, and across the room Judge has himself crammed into a recliner with a small blanket, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Or me…the almost dead. Opening my mouth, I try to speak but a weird croaking sound comes out, startling myself and Law. He looks up at me, grinning. Judge stops snoring and sits up confused. “You gonna stay with us for more than a minute this time?” Lawson asks as he comes

closer, offering me a sip of water. Taking it I nod but stop when my brain starts to rattle a bit. When my mouth is at least wet, I speak. “Why am I tied to the bed, Law?” I ask, not recognizing my own voice it’s so weak. He looks to Judge who is now making his way over to us. “A couple reasons, Stone,” Judge says in a sober tone. He takes a deep breath, glances away and then pins me with watchful eyes. “Did you try to kill yourself? Did you take all that shit on purpose because Willow wasn’t home?” he asks carefully. Eyes narrowed, I start to deny it and tell him to go fuck himself but don’t. I stop to think about what I was doing, and why. “I wasn’t…I wouldn’t…I just wanted to forget.” My voice is low, my eyes already growing heavy. Pressing my head against the pillow, I look at each of them, one after the other. “I took all of them on purpose, but not to off myself.” Admitting that to them is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I know they’ve known every time I was high, but we’ve never spoken about it. They would ask, I would deny, and that was the end. Willow’s the only one that called me on my shit. Their eyes never leave my face, I can see them trying to decide if I’m telling the truth or not. “That’s one of the reasons you’re strapped down. They weren’t sure what they were dealing with. Weren’t sure if you woke up if you’d be a danger to yourself,” Judge says grimly. I nod in acceptance. Embarrassed. “And the other?” They glance at each other, and then back at me, deciding something with a shared look between them. “You’ve had some mild seizures,” Judge informs me. Again I nod, closing my eyes. “Okay.” What else can I say? Nothing. I don’t have the strength, and I know why I was seizing. I know because I can feel the need to be high even now clawing at me. Making my insides roil and my anxiety climb. The urge to lash out at them, tell them to fuck off, is so strong I squeeze my eyes tighter still. Maybe if I pretend to sleep they’ll go away. Maybe the doctor will give me something to help with the pain. Unlikely. I’m in the hospital because of an overdose, not a motherfucking car accident. But I just need…something. “Willow.” Her name falls from my lips before I can stop myself. Cracking my eyes just enough to see them, I watch as Judge shifts from foot to foot and Law looks at the ground. She’s not here. But why would she be? She wasn’t at home. How would she even know I’m in the hospital? She changed her number. But I didn’t. My eyes pop open and I ignore the pain it causes. I feel like my whole body is tender, rubbed raw. “My phone?” I croak out quietly. Sipping again from the straw Law is offering me. “Busted into a million fucking pieces, dude,” he tells me, face pinched. “Judge, I need it.” “Stone. You’re in the damn hospital because you OD’d on who knows what, nearly burnt your damn house down, and you’re worried about your damn phone?” Judge asks, exasperation and anger making his tone harsh, grating on my nerves. “Get me the fucking phone!” I demand as sternly as I can in my weakened state, my

breathing becoming labored the more pissed I get. “Hey, calm down. We’ll get you the phone. No worries, okay?” Law soothes. He knows me. Knows why it’s so important. “Wha-what do you mean I nearly burnt my house down?” I ask them, trying to fight my way through the fog. “You must have been smoking. You burned through a picture and it set off the alarm and when the security company couldn’t get a hold of you, they called me since I was next on the list. They sent out the cavalry, thank fuck. We met them here.” He looks at me and I can see the worry in his eyes still. “You scared the ever loving shit out of us, man.” I don’t get the chance to reply, ask about the house, or even apologize to Law. The door opens and a doctor I think I remember from the last time I was awake comes in. “Ah, Mr. Lockhart, you’re awake. Maybe we can keep you that way,” he says in a jovial, irritating as fuck voice. “Gentlemen, if you’ll leave us alone for a few minutes.” The Doctor dismisses them with a smile. As they walk to the door, Lawson assures me they won’t be far. “Judge. Get me my phone.” With clenched fists I try to lighten my tone. “Please.” He looks like he’s about to argue and then nods and stalks out. Turning to the doctor, I watch him warily. “Can you please unstrap me? I wasn’t trying to kill myself.” He glances up from his chart, “Weren’t you though?” Head cocked he watches me. “No. I wasn’t. It was an accident.” I don’t know how much to even say to him. How much can I tell him without incriminating myself? I vaguely remember the police being in the room one of the times I came to. Can everyone just leave me the fuck be? Changing the subject I ask what I really want to fucking know. “When can I leave?” My head is swimming now. I grind my back teeth trying to fight the nausea that’s all of a sudden got me ready to hurl all over Dr. Gold. “Well, that’s up to you, Stone. We’ve been slowly weaning you off of the meds for the last two days since you’re clearly breathing fine on your own. Now we wait for you to keep conscious for longer periods of time and you’ll have to be evaluated by a psychiatrist. It’ll be up to them, and you, when you can be discharged.” His smile is too bright, his tone condescending, and I want to punch him in the fucking face. “Whatever,” I mutter. Then something he said registers with me, they’ve been giving me drugs. I’m sure not what I normally score but I’ll take whatever. “Can you give me something for the pain then?” The bitterness is there in my voice no matter how I try to bury it. “I’m sorry, no. The attending psychiatrist will be in here shortly now that you’re up and actually communicating, and they’ll be in charge of your care and your meds. We’ve been weaning you off in order to help with your detoxification. The rest is up to him.” Glaring I watch as he straightens. “You’re a very lucky young man. This could have ended worse than it did. The amount of drugs in your system should have killed you. Would have killed you had you not been brought in as quickly as you were.” When I don’t express my

gratitude or acknowledge what he sees as my luck, he closes the chart in his hand and hangs it on the foot of my bed with a clang. “Do you have any questions that I can answer for you, Mr. Lockhart?” I give a curt shake of my head. “I’ll let Dr. Risa know that she can come see you now.” And then he’s gone. Shoes squeaking across the floor as he exits. Not sure why, but I test my restraints one more time. When they don’t budge, I just close my eyes and try to quiet my racing thoughts enough to go back to sleep. Or back into a coma. At least there I was allowed some fucking drugs.

“I ’ve been in here for five fucking days. I want to go the fuck home, Law,” I shout. Pacing in front of the window of the too small hospital room.

“Dude. That’s not even an option right now. You have two choices: jail or rehab. That’s it. End of story,” Lawson tells me for the tenth God damn time. “Judge busted his balls working with the record label and the lawyers to get the charges against you dropped and that’s the only bargain they’re willing to make.” Arms folded across his chest, he has his feet planted wide like he thinks he’s Billy fucking bad ass. He’s not. “I don’t need to go to fucking rehab,” I spit, scratching at the back of my neck and the prickling under my skin. “We’re supposed to be back on tour in a few days,” I remind him. Trying a different tactic. “Tour’s been canceled until you get your shit clean, Stone. It’s not a negotiation.” “Don’t treat me like I’m a kid. I’m a grown ass man. A fucking rock star! I fuck who I want, I drink what I want, and I do whatever fucking shit I want.” My voice rises louder and louder until I’m yelling, veins bulging in my neck, and still, Lawson looks unfazed. “Yeah, well, motherfucker, you’re not doing any of that now, are you? Where’s Willow, bro? You ain’t fucking her, that’s for damn sure. Can’t get any of that smooth ass whiskey you love so much in here or those fucking pills, and you damn sure can’t get any of that nose candy you’ve been trying to kill yourself with,” he bites out with a little more heat than before but still looking calm and collected as I stand here sweating and ready to throw the fuck up. “You keep living like a rock star you’re gonna die like a fucking rock star,” Lawson vows solemnly. “Now get your shit. The plane leaves in an hour. You check into rehab tonight. Judge pulled some strings, has you set up in a nice place called Paradise in Hawaii. Real fucking fancy. Has your alias and everything else taken care of already.” “Law—” “No other option, Stone. This is your only choice,” he interrupts. “Listen, if you ever want to get Willow back, you have got to be clean, man. I promise to hire someone different, someone more competent than the guy we have now, to find her while you’re working on you.” Holding out his hand to me he asks, “Deal?” Turning away from him to stare out the window, still scratching at the skin that feels too fucking tight, I mumble, “Just take me to fucking Paradise.”

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