by Terri Osburn
“How’s it going, bud?” Ash asked. “Thanks for coming out today.”
“My pleasure. Which one is Jesse?” Mason asked, glancing from one face to the next.
“I am,” Jesse said, feeling as if she should have worn a name tag. Not that she was famous, but it wasn’t as if she were a complete unknown. “I appreciate you playing on my album.”
“I’m always up for working with Ash,” he said, turning his attention to the producer. “You have some song sheets for me?”
“They’re in my bag over here.”
The two men crossed to the other side of the room, and Jesse caught a look from Dana. Neither was impressed with the award-winning musician, nor did they miss the meaning of his comment. Mason wasn’t here because of Jesse. In fact, she got the impression he wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for Ash’s involvement.
Her annoyance ebbed as Ash distributed the song sheets, and she spotted her name at the top. Regardless of why anyone was here, they all shared one goal—to make the best album they could. And that album would have Jesse’s name on it.
Riding a wave of excitement, she and Dana followed Reggie out to his kit where they hashed out the first song. After so many months, Jesse was relieved to finally get this project underway.
“I really appreciate you doing this,” Ash said as Mason withdrew his Fender Stratocaster from its case. “Especially on such short notice.”
“You caught me with an opening.” He dropped onto the leather sofa and propped the guitar on his knee. “Though I almost passed when you mentioned who this is for.”
Ash tensed. “What do you mean?”
Dark eyes met his over wire-rimmed glasses. “The girl has a rep, man. You can’t pretend you haven’t heard it.”
“That’s idle gossip. You know how this town is.”
Mason tuned his guitar. “I’d have ignored it if I’d heard conflicting stories, but when this many people are all saying the same thing, I tend to believe them.”
“What exactly are they saying?”
“You haven’t heard it?” he asked, glancing up from the tuner.
“Humor me,” Ash replied.
“That she’s difficult, mostly.” Mason returned to his task. “Bossy. Likes things her way. Doesn’t play well with others, which explains why that duet thing didn’t work out.”
All utter bullshit.
“The duet didn’t work out because Taylor Roper got sucked in by a pretty talker with the age-old promise that he could make her a star all by herself. And if you heard that same description of a male artist, you’d be lining up to work with him. Being passionate about the music you want to make isn’t a character flaw, and the only reason Jesse gets shit about her perfectionist tendencies—which she aims at herself more than anyone else—is because she’s a female artist.” Ash rested his arms on the top of the acoustic in his lap. “If you don’t plan to put as much into this job as you would for anyone else, tell me now and I’ll line up another picker.”
Leaning back, Mason gave Ash a hard stare before his face split into a grin. “You seem pretty passionate about this project yourself.”
“I believe in Jesse. She deserves this break, and I plan to do all that I can to make sure we turn out the best debut album this town has seen in years. Are you in on that mission or not?”
“When you put it that way, hell yeah, I’m in. But what makes you so sure this chick has what it takes?”
Ash remembered Jesse’s reluctance to offer the rumor mill anymore fodder and opted to keep their past connection to himself. “She can play circles around half the musicians in this town—on multiple instruments—and she has a voice that doesn’t sound like anyone else. Her songwriting is just as good, and more importantly, she’s a true artist—musician, singer, songwriter—which is more than I can say for her former duet partner.”
“She’s really that good?”
“Stick around and you’ll see for yourself.”
After a brief hesitation, he nodded. “Okay, then. Which song is first?”
Relieved, Ash made an executive decision and changed the order they’d decided on the week before. “‘Save Yourself.’”
Mason shuffled the papers until he found the song. “What’s the tempo?”
“I’ll show you.”
Ash played the song on his acoustic and several bars in, Mason joined him. Ash wouldn’t be playing on the album, but since he’d worked out the songs with Jesse, he’d taken on the task of getting the session musician up to speed. They worked through the verses, made an alteration to the chorus, and then the hired gun let fly on the solo before the bridge. As they strummed the last chords, Mason looked up with a genuine smile.
“You two wrote this?”
He shook his head. “She wrote this one by herself.”
“Damn,” the man murmured. “If this is what we’re working with, I’m here as long as you need me.”
Shoulders relaxing, Ash reached for another song sheet. “Good. Because it only gets better from here.”
Twenty-One
This. Was. Heaven.
Hearing her song come together, note by note, verse by verse, played by the best musicians she could hope for meant Jesse spent the first part of the day pinching herself, and the other half stressing over whether the rest of her songs were as good as this one.
The session had begun with some shuffling since Ash changed the recording order from “Come See Me” first to starting with “Save Yourself.” Jesse had nearly argued, but remembered that though it was her record, Ash was in charge. And really, what did it matter in what order they recorded so long as they were recording her songs.
Reggie and Dana had learned the new tune, and Jesse tried not to choke on her nerves once it came time for vocals.
The session had run smoothly from that point on, a dream come true sort of day. Only one thing felt off for Jesse. Ash had been all business. He gave no hint of their history together, nor cast her a warm glance that said he hadn’t forgotten the kiss they’d shared three days before. Not that she wanted him to act any differently. After all, she had been the one worried about more rumors. The one who’d decided that ignoring the kiss was the smart thing to do and that she needed to be alone to break her unhealthy habit of jumping from one relationship to another.
All of which her head agreed with, but her heart had been voicing a dissenting opinion since she’d crawled out of bed Sunday morning following a very vivid dream in which Ash had done more than just kiss her.
Jesse had spent the rest of the day much as she had the one before—looking for an apartment and coming up empty. The options were either too modern, too expensive, or came with the kind of roommates that scurried under walls when the lights came on.
The apartment hunt had done little to keep her mind off Ash. After the accident, when he’d disappeared from her life, Jesse had spent months crying, and then a year convinced that he would come back. Hope had eventually been replaced by heartbreaking acceptance, and at some point, devolved into righteous indignation. The last had simmered for nearly a decade and had sustained her so long as Ash was the villain in her memory.
Now that he was the villain no more, Jesse found herself pondering a plethora of what-ifs that would lead her right back down the same road she was trying to get off. Maybe if he’d come back into her life at a different time, when she hadn’t been with someone else and subsequently dealing with a bad breakup.
Then again, when would that have been? Jesse took a mental stroll through her dating history and couldn’t find a time when she wasn’t either with someone, getting over someone—typically an embarrassingly short period of time—or getting involved with someone else.
The therapist her parents had forced her to see when she’d nearly flunked out of her freshman year of college due to a lack of effort had been right. Jesse was trying to fill a hole and so far, she’d only managed to widen the gap.
“Did you want to take another run at the vocal?
” Ash asked, interrupting her revelatory moment.
He’d been working on the drum track with Reggie, which had allowed Jesse time for her mental meanderings. Mason Dexter had left nine hours into what was now a ten-hour day, and Dana had stepped out to take a call from Ingrid.
“Yeah,” Jesse said, snapping back to the present. “I can do that.”
Before she could drag herself off of the comfortable leather sofa, Dana returned from her call. “I’m afraid we need to go. Ingrid’s car won’t start, and I have the jumper cables.”
“Oh.” Without her own vehicle, Jesse had to leave with her ride. “I guess we can work on the vocal tomorrow.”
“You don’t have your Jeep?” Ash asked.
“Dana’s SUV was bigger to hold all the gear, and it seemed pointless not to ride together.”
The bass player flashed an apologetic expression, and Ash said, “I can take you home.”
She couldn’t let him do that. “No,” Jesse said. “That’s too far out of your way.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, his tone insistent. Ash turned his focus on Dana. “You go and if the jumper cables don’t work, let us know, and I’ll come see what I can do.”
Brows high, the bass player looked to Jesse. “Do you care?”
Before Jesse could answer, Ash waved her on. “We need to start on the next song tomorrow so knocking the vocal out tonight will keep us on schedule.”
Decision clearly made, Dana said, “Okay, then. See you guys later.”
“See you at home,” Jesse said, annoyed. While she did want to work on the vocal, she didn’t like the decision being made for her. Once her friend was gone, she asked, “Where’s Aiden?”
“I sent him home,” Ash said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “Go on into the vocal booth, and we’ll start from the top.”
There was only so much being dictated to that Jesse would tolerate. “Is this what every session will be like? You barking out orders, expecting me to jump like a trained puppy?”
Now she had his attention. “I didn’t bark anything. Do you not want to work on this?”
As if she had a choice. “Since my ride just left, I guess I might as well.”
“Hey,” he snapped as she vaulted from her seat like a bratty teenager. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t like having decisions made for me.”
“You said you wanted to stay, so I offered to take you home. What’s the problem?”
Jesse was determined to contain her anger. She would not prove them right. She would not be difficult to work with.
“Nothing. I’m fine.” She marched toward the door, wishing they were doing a song that required more rage than sympathy.
Ash reached the door before her. “You aren’t fine.”
“Just let me by. I don’t want to be here all night.”
“It seems more like you don’t want to be here at all. What’s the issue?”
“The issue is that I feel as if I’ve been ordered to stay after school like some misbehaving child. You let everyone else go and then made it so that I can’t leave until you say I can.”
“I sent everyone else home so that I could stop pretending that I don’t want to kiss you every time we’re in the same room. But by all means, call Dana back and go home if that’s what you want.”
His words doused her anger like running water on a lit match. “You want to kiss me?” Jesse asked, forgetting her vow to stay single.
Ash locked his hands on his hips. “That’s all I’ve wanted to do all damn day.”
Melting like a snow cone in a sauna, Jesse trailed a finger down his chest. “You were really good at hiding it.”
Taking her hand, he said, “There are cameras. They record video, but not audio. For obvious reasons.”
She glanced around and spotted a small, round device in the far corner of the room. She’d wanted to avoid more rumors, and Ash seemed ready to respect her wish. Turning back, she asked, “So that’s why you’ve kept me at a distance? Acting like we barely know each other?”
He nodded. “Yeah, that’s why.”
The man knew how to take the air out of a woman’s argument. “Oh. I didn’t realize.”
“That was the idea.”
Jesse took a half step forward, and Ash nodded up toward the camera again. “Right,” she said, shifting away from him in what she hoped looked like a normal movement. “Strictly business.”
Amber eyes darkened as he visibly relaxed. “Okay, then.”
How was she supposed to ignore their code when he looked at her like that? The sentiment, combined with the confession about wanting to kiss her, struck Jesse momentarily speechless, and after what felt like an eternity of staring silently into each other’s eyes, Ash swept past her and across the hall to the control room.
“I’ve got everything cued up so let me know when you’re ready.”
Not sure what to do with the memories flooding back, or the conflicting emotions threatening to overrule the firm decision she’d made to stay single, Jesse stepped into the hall with the lyrics she was about to sing playing on a loop through her mind. Save yourself, indeed. She needed to save herself from the temptation of Ash Shepherd.
But did she want to? No. No, she did not.
This. Was. Agony.
Ash had been fine working with Jesse until that damn kiss on Friday. She’d played cool through their lunch and the rest of the afternoon had been about work, but she was all he could think about throughout the weekend. When she’d walked into the studio lounge this morning, practically glowing with excitement, it had taken every ounce of control he possessed not to kiss her senseless. Controlling that urge had put him on edge all day until he’d found an excuse to get her alone.
He hadn’t expected the pushback once he’d managed to do so, but the softness in her eyes when he’d revealed his true intentions gave Ash hope that he wasn’t wading back into this particular pond alone. Jesse was still fresh off a breakup, so he knew the timing wasn’t right, but they had months to go in the recording process. By the time the album was finished, they’d be into the new year. A perfect time for new beginnings.
And second chances.
“Do we have to eat here?” she asked as Ash turned into a parking lot off Trinity Lane.
They’d agreed to grab dinner on the way to her temporary home, and in front of them sat the unassuming gray building that housed the East Nashville Beer Works Taproom restaurant. One of Ash’s favorite places to eat, though he didn’t get up here as often as he’d like.
“What’s wrong with this place?” he asked. “They serve the best pizza in town.”
She sank down in the seat. “Five Points is better, but the pizza isn’t the problem.”
Jesse looked as if she were going to ooze onto the floorboard. “Then what is the problem?”
Sighing, she straightened in the seat. “A guy I used to date worked here.”
“How long ago was that?” Ash knew she’d been with Dimitri for more than a year, so she presumably meant someone else.
“About the time I met Ryan so . . . fifteen months ago.”
“Then he probably isn’t here now.”
The sinking resumed. “I don’t know if I want to chance it.”
Growing concerned, he asked, “Did this guy hurt you?”
“What?” She spun his way. “No. Nothing like that. I mean, he wasn’t the best boyfriend ever, but Frankie never hit me.”
Not exactly a glowing review. “Then why do you look scared to go in there? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Well . . .” she hedged. “We didn’t end on the best of terms.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I sort of . . . disappeared.”
“You ghosted?” Ash asked.
“Was ghosting a thing back then?”
“Answer the question, Rheingold.”
“Before you get all judgmental on me, I had a good reason.”
Doubtful. �
�And what was that?”
“I found out that I wasn’t Frankie’s only girlfriend. I was just the only one who wasn’t sporting a big fat engagement ring.”
That was a good reason. “Then I doubt the guy is still holding a grudge, and the odds that he still works here are slim.” Ash reached for his door handle. “Let’s eat.”
She was slow to meet him around the front of the truck and plodded to the door as if marching to her own execution. Ash took her hand and tucked her close against his side. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” he said, joking to lighten the mood. He seriously doubted the dude would be here.
Within seconds of stepping inside, a booming baritone echoed off the metal walls. “You’ve got some nerve coming in here, Gold.”
Jesse tensed, and Ash went on alert, searching the room for the source of the voice. A mountain of a man, covered in tattoos and sporting a leather vest that could double as a keg Koozie, charged their way. As he drew closer, Ash tensed for a fight he had no chance of winning, but instead of throwing a punch, the big guy whisked Jesse off her feet and spun her in a circle as laughter rolled from deep in his chest.
“I thought you were dead or left town until I recognized that gorgeous voice of yours in a Honkytonk Daisies song. What are you up to now, little darling?”
Ash bristled at the endearment but was smart enough to keep the irritation to himself.
“I’m recording my solo album,” she replied, returning to Ash’s side. “How is Savannah?”
He assumed Savannah was the one who’d gotten a ring.
Frankie snorted. “She left me six months ago.” Brown eyes narrowed as he assessed Ash. “I see you’ve got another pretty boy. Didn’t that Dimitri asshole teach you anything, doll? The pretty ones can’t be trusted.”
“You couldn’t be trusted,” Jesse reminded him. “And this isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my producer. Ash Shepherd, meet Frankie Snow.”
Despite declaring Ash not her boyfriend, she slid her hand into his while making the introductions. Extending the other hand in greeting, he said, “Nice to meet you, Frankie.”
