Made in Nashville: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance (12 page)

Her nose wrinkled to the smell of cooking. What was being made she couldn’t identify except to the point that it was something oily. As her other senses came to life she caught the sound of violent sizzling. She opened her eyes and with one hand pushed the rug away from her face. Her head was muzzy. She was on a couch. Jared’s couch. It was rough on her skin and it smelt funny. He’d said something about it belonging to his grandmother. She sat up.

Looking at her watch she saw it was morning. Her eyes were sore and her mouth was dry. She didn’t remember falling asleep …  but she did remember what happened at the offices of Micro Records.

She stood up and stretched her arms above her head as a string of curse words filtered in through the door to the kitchen. She headed that way.

‘Darn eggs! You don’t come from an Alabama chicken that’s for sure!’

Her breath caught in her throat as she entered the room. Jared had his back to her as he stood doing something with a frying pan over the hob, wearing nothing but jeans and his baseball cap. She kept silent, watched the contours of his back, the muscles twisting and shifting as he worked the food around. He had a tattoo at the small of his back, a bird. As he moved around the range she caught brief glimpses of his other markings. The tattoos on his obliques, the scar down his abdomen. She felt her insides take a turn, lust sweep up out of nowhere. What this guy did to her was unexplainable.

He noticed her. ‘Hey, good mornin’. I’m having a tussle here with the breakfast.’ He lifted up the plastic spatula he was using as if in explanation.

‘You have a bird on your back,’ Honor said, closing the distance between them.

‘Have you been checking out my pecker?’ He turned full frontal then and leaned against the range, watching her.

‘What?’ Her cheeks were already heating up just from looking at that washboard stomach, the tight muscular shoulders and upper arms.

‘The yellowhammer. It’s a woodpecker. National bird of Alabama. What did you think I meant?’ His eyes were sparkling with devilment and she loved that. She adored the way he was so comfortable in his own skin.

She touched his chest then and snaked a finger down the scar on his midriff, making her way south.

‘You wouldn’t be tryin’ to make sure I burned breakfast would you? Because I’m no chef. I do eggs and barbecue and that’s about all. You might spoil the only meal I’m capable of makin’ for ya.’

He was talking because he was scared. When she touched him he felt it more than skin deep. He was already hard and if she got any closer she would know that too. He couldn’t go there, he wasn’t ready. That sounded crazy but it was true. He couldn’t remember how many girls he’d slept with in the last year - since his career skyrocketed - but he hadn’t felt anything. Mild sexual satisfaction, a quick high and then nothing but emptiness. But he hadn’t wanted to feel. He didn’t deserve to. Was that still true?

He swallowed. Her hand was pulling at the studded belt, slipping it from the buckle. He closed his eyes.

His skin felt slightly damp like he’d showered. Had she slept through that? The thought of him underneath hot running water had her insides folding. It was all imagination; after all she’d not seen him naked. She wanted to. It was like he’d opened up a side to her she didn’t recognize, let alone know. She pulled the belt undone and felt for the first metal button at his fly. She unfastened it and that’s when his mouth crashed against hers. Hot breath, the stubble on his face, his firm insistent lips, the moistness of his tongue dancing with hers. She was getting a head rush with the excitement and adrenalin. She pulled at the second button, then the third. Her hand parted the denim and he was right there. No underwear.

A flood of heat soared through her and then he grabbed her hand and took it upwards and away, placing it on his chest as he kissed her again.

She broke away, out of breath and a little confused. She thought they’d cleared things up. She thought after the other night they both knew what they wanted. Was this another rejection? The way he looked at her, the way his body was reacting to her told her otherwise.

Her eyes were damp before she could check herself. She looked away, focused on the wooden tea, coffee and sugar canisters with moose antlers on each lid.

‘I’ve not had … ’ He paused. ‘Someone like you in my life before.’

The way the words came out sounded genuine and heartfelt. But what did it mean?

‘I just …  want to get things right.
Do
things right.’

He drew her head back, making her look at him. She blinked, tried to understand exactly what he was saying, see the translation behind his expression.

He let out a guttural sigh. ‘Truth? I want to get outta these jeans, rip your clothes off and take you right there, right on my kitchen table.’

Her eyes moved to the large, rustic chunk of wood that stood a little way away from them. It looked hand-carved and it wasn’t varnished. There would be splinters for sure. That thought gave her that tingling feeling again, shooting up from her soul.

He let out another noise of frustration and buried his head into her shoulder.

‘What is it?’ she asked, her hands clasping him to her.

‘You’re so straight down the line and I’ve made so many mistakes,’ he stated. He lifted his head then, his gray eyes heavy with sentiment.

‘So you won’t let me touch you because you think I’m too much of a good girl?’ The look she gave him was meant to challenge.

‘No. It’s not like that.’

‘Then?’ She took her hand out of his and felt for his fly, tugging at the final button.

‘God, Honor, you’re killin’ me here.’

His voice was rough with lust as she pulled at the denim.

‘I can’t …  we can’t.’ His tone was lace with determination but he hadn’t backed away.

A phone rang and broke the moment. He started back, knocking the pan of eggs as he shifted away from her.

‘Shit! I’m sorry …  I have to get that.’

He straightened himself out and headed to the hall.

‘I apologize for the eggs.’ They were the first words he’d spoken since he’d come back to the kitchen. Now he was eating with abandon as if nothing had passed between them.

The eggs were charred dark brown on the edges and the yolks were hard. Only the waffles were saving the meal. Truth was he didn’t know what was going to save the morning. A part of him was glad Buzz’s call had interrupted them. A bigger part of him recalled every sensation she’d pulled out of him.

She shrugged in response. That wasn’t a good sign. If he kept putting up the barricades she was going to start losing interest. That was the very last thing he wanted. But what could he say to make her realize it was all because of how much he felt for her? He looked up and saw she’d hidden her face in her coffee cup.

‘So, that was Buzz on the phone, my go-to guy. I told him about us last night and … ’ he started.

‘You told someone about us!’

She sounded horrified. Her eyes were out of the cup now and they were somewhere between wild and furious, her mouth open.

‘Is it a secret?’ he queried. ‘Do you not want to … ’

‘I don’t know, Jared. I still don’t even know what’s really going on.’

Her body language told him everything. He watched her put her coffee cup down.

‘I mean one minute your body’s telling me one thing and the next you’re pushing me away.’

She knew that had hurt him. She saw his eyes cloud over.

He nodded then. A slow, resigned nod that made her stomach turn over.

‘Jared.’ She felt bad now. Like a spoilt child who wasn’t getting the candy she screamed for.

‘No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have taken the liberty.’ He stood up, crossing the room. He dropped his plate into the sink and it made a loud clatter against the metal. He stood still then, with his back to her, hands rested either side of the draining board. She could tell he was both mad and sad.

She was being ridiculous and childish. She got up and went to him quickly. She enveloped him, putting her arms around his torso and laying her head against his bare back.

‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just …  wanted you so much. It was selfish and … ’ she tumbled out the words.

He didn’t reply but she could feel the motion of his breath as she held him. She just wanted to be close to him. Finally she felt his shoulders rise as he spoke.

‘When I touch you - if I get the chance to really touch you - I don’t want it to be like anything either of us has had before.’

She lifted her head to pay proper attention.

‘I want you to be my girl, Honor. I know you don’t know what that means to me but let me tell you.’ He paused, took another breath. ‘I haven’t had a girl in years. Because, the last time, the last girl I really cared about …  I needed her to believe in me and she couldn’t. I needed her trust and her faith and she just broke my heart.’

‘Jared.’ She pulled at his hips, encouraging him to turn around and face her. She looked up at him; saw the pain in his eyes. She could tell how hard that had been for him to admit.

‘Now I don’t want you thinkin’ I’ve been livin’ like some sort of monk all this time because that couldn’t be further from the truth.’ He managed a smile, touching her cheek with his fingers. ‘But there’s been no one special. No one like you.’ He toyed with a curl of her hair. ‘What can I say? I’m an old-fashioned Alabama boy at heart.’

She looped her arms around his neck and drew him towards her. She wanted him to know it was OK. She wanted to show him how much sharing that with her had meant.

His heart lightened a little as their mouths met and her body formed against his. He’d told her. He’d shared some of his past with her. It was a start and one he wanted to hold on to.

‘Since when have I been some sort of go-between for other artists?’

‘Buzz, come on, man. This is my girl we’re talkin’ about.’

‘Sshh! Last week I saw that reporter from Star Life magazine in here. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’s put bugs on the ketchup bottles.’ Buzz picked one up and turned it upside down.

‘I’m just askin’ if you’ll talk to Gear. She’s a great singer, I want her on the tour and she’s done with Micro. It all makes sense,’ Jared insisted.

‘To you maybe. It makes no sense to me and I can almost guarantee Gear will feel the same.’ Buzz folded his arms across his chest.

‘Why?’

‘Why? Because you’re their bestselling artist for two reasons. You’re a great musician
and
everybody loves you. The guys want to mate you; the women want to mate
with
you. A girlfriend on the scene now, right before your tour, that’s not going to gel well.’

‘I want you to ask them. If they don’t sign her up someone else will. At the end of the day it’s business.’ Jared took a sip of his coffee. He was serious about this. Honor needed this. Micro had messed her around and stitched her up. That didn’t sit well with him.

‘At the end of the day it’s career suicide. Why would you want to do this? Why would you want to do this
now
when you have the biggest tour of your career coming up? When you’ve been nominated for Best Male Vocalist at the Marlon Awards.’

‘What?’ Jared dropped his coffee cup. ‘What did you say?’

His head was thumping. Had he heard right?

Buzz’s mouth opened in a broad, white-toothed smile. ‘I didn’t want to tell you on the phone. This is huge, Jared.’

It
was
huge. Although the CMA’s were the biggest and most well-known country music awards, the Marlon Awards were just as prestigious. Last year Vince Gill had been given his place on the Outstanding Contribution Roll.

The awards night took place on the final night of the four-day Marlon Festival, at the former Grand Ole Opry House, now the Ryman Auditorium. That place had a magic about it. Despite his music being as non-traditional country as you could get, that venue did something to him.

‘Jeez! I can’t believe it. Man, that’s the best news.’

‘I know. And it needs to be handled carefully.’

Buzz’s tone took him back down to earth with a bump.

‘Jared, you don’t need any distractions from this opportunity. You need to keep your eye firmly on the prize here.’

He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rising up. He knew exactly what Buzz was trying to say and he didn’t like it one bit. This situation had never arisen before because there had never been anyone in his life like this before. He wasn’t about to sacrifice his new relationship with Honor just because Buzz thought it might affect his chances of winning an award.

‘I’m not gonna stop seein’ her, Buzz.’

Buzz took in air through his teeth and shook his head.

‘How long have you known me? I’ve never had anyone before. I like her, Buzz, I really like her and if it loses me a few crazy-ass female fans as a result then we’re just gonna have to deal with that.’

Buzz didn’t respond. He was tapping his rubber tipped pen on the screen on his iPad.

‘I want her with Gear. Either you call them and set something up or I will.’

‘Do you want her with Gear? Or do you just want her away from Dan Steele?’

That comment had him balling his hands into fists and sitting back against the booth. He took a breath then adjusted his cap. His voice was slow and deliberate.

‘This has nothin’ to do with him.’

It was true, in a way. He couldn’t say he was disappointed Honor wouldn’t be working out of the same record company as the guy, but unless he stepped out of line again he wouldn’t waste his energy on him. This was all about getting Honor to a better place. Someplace that deserved her.

‘Does she know about this? Has she asked for your help?’ Buzz inquired.

‘Hell no! If she knew she’d probably kill me. She’s proud, Buzz, she wants to do everything on her own but … ’ Jared started.

‘You want to look out for her.’

‘Sshh! If that reporter’s bugged the ketchup bottles my reputation’s gonna be in shreds.’

She rolled the owl around in her palm. It was still there on the shelf in Target. The one with the slightly wonky eye. The encrusted shells rubbed against her hand and she took a breath, letting the piped instrumental music roll over her. Why was the local discount store the one place she felt at peace? She did need a little calm after the grocery section though. She’d invited Jared over for dinner and she really couldn’t remember the last time she’d cooked for anyone. Whenever Mia came over she ordered in pizza or Hot Mo’s Chicken. Last time they’d both gotten drunk and Mia had entertained herself clapping at all her appliances and doing poor Reba McEntire impersonations, even though she knew Honor’s house was a country free zone. Now she had extended the invitation to Jared she didn’t know what the hell to cook. She’d spent ten minutes deciding between a rutabaga and a sweet potato not really knowing what to do with either of them.

‘Hey, doll, will you look at this?’ Mia held up a turquoise crop top with the words ‘Ride ‘em Cowgirl’ emblazoned across the front in sequins.

Mia had called her for a rundown of the latest events and when Honor had told her about Micro she’d insisted they met over her lunch hour.

‘That will only attract attention,’ Honor told her, putting the owl back on the shelf.

‘That’s what I’m counting on. I have a date tonight.’ She draped the top over her forearm.

‘Please tell me it isn’t with one of those creepy guys we met in One-Eyed Walt’s.’

‘It’s not one of those guys we met in Walt’s. It’s a guy I met at Cody’s after your performance the other day.’

Honor brought the cart to a halt beside her friend. ‘Well, don’t keep me in suspense, who is it? Is it Vince Gill? I heard a rumor he was there you know.’

‘It’s not Vince Gill. His name’s Byron and he is hot!’

‘Oh my God, Mia, Byron Starks? I know him. He’s a guitarist. He’s a friend of Jared’s. He was there when it all went south at Walt’s with …  you know, the “Dan Steele Situation.”’ Her voice tapered off towards the end of the sentence. The less she thought about him the better. She’d had several messages from Larry since she’d walked out of the meeting and one from Radley Stokes. She hadn’t even listened to them once she knew who was calling. Nothing either of them could say would make her change her mind about quitting. She just didn’t know what step to take next.

‘I know! Freaking weird, right? But we got talking before we got whisked off to the after party – you know, the one you left me at – and we’re meeting for beer and a bucket tonight,’ Mia exclaimed excitedly.

‘Beer and a bucket? Romance is not dead in Nashville.’ Honor laughed and shook her head.

‘Well he suggested that freaking chic place that just opened up. You know the one where you have to dress in silk and pay with a platinum card. I don’t have silk, apart from panties, and how can you get drunk when one glass of wine will probably set you back the price of a Les Paul?’

‘Oh, Mia,’ Honor said, still laughing.

‘I’m not a three sets of silverware girl. If he’s gonna take me out he needs to know what he’s letting himself in for from the get-go,’ Mia said with a nod.

‘Honesty. I like it. And so will he,’ Honor answered, smiling at her friend.

‘And how about you? I don’t even know what that vegetable in the cart is. Is that a vegetable? Why are you buying stuff you don’t recognize to feed a guy who’s the face of Alabama Hot Sauce and Old Skool Burgers?’

‘He’s the what?’ She knew about Pure Nectar but how many endorsements did Jared have?

‘I can’t believe you’re dating country hot property and you haven’t even Googled him yet?’ Mia tutted. ‘Before you serve him up something a chicken would turn its beak up at, look him up on Wikipedia.’

Honor looked into the cart. Why had she put in turkey mince? Or any of the other food. She was making dinner for someone she’d tried to disrobe that morning and she hardly knew anything about him. Mia was right. The only way to learn enough in time to get this right was to do an internet search.

‘You know more about him than I do, don’t you?’ Honor remarked, moving forward with the cart.

‘Definitely. Especially if you tell me what he’s like in bed,’ Mia said with a snort of laughter.

‘So what did you go for in the end? Ooo ribs, that’s a good call. Alabama Hot Sauce, I’m liking your style. Corn dogs. Well I know you have a thing about them. Coors, the choice of beer is approved,’ Mia said as Honor started to pack things into bags.

‘Good. If he doesn’t show up I’ll give you a call and drag you away from Byron and your bucket of chicken.’

‘Don’t you dare. He’s the first really hot guy I’ve dated for at least three months. Since the gorgeous Leroy left me for Mexico.’

‘His loss,’ Honor replied, placing the beer down into the bag.

‘Excuse me, Miss Blackwood. A customer asked me to give this to you.’ A sales assistant had approached them and was holding out the ceramic owl with the wonky eye to her.

‘What in the hell is that?’ Mia said, looking at the ornament in disgust.

‘What customer? Who?’ Honor asked, looking over the assistant’s shoulder at the shop floor in the hope of seeing something.

‘A gentleman, ma’am. It’s all paid for. He just asked me to come give it to you,’ she responded.

‘Now that’s freaking weird,’ Mia stated.

This was Dan Steele. She knew it. First the flowers and now he was following her around Target picking gifts for her? Her blood pressure headed north.

‘What did he look like? 6ft? Dark spiky hair? Kind of handsome?’ Honor asked.

‘I guess. I didn’t really pay too much attention. I just took it and …  have I done something wrong?’ the young girl asked.

‘No, doll, we’re all good here. Take that ugly thing, Honor and let’s go. If Dan Steele’s in the parking lot I’ll throw it at him.’