by Cora York
Pulled pork, chicken, smoked ribs, corn, collard greens, baked beans, and cornbread filled the table. I was too nervy to eat much, but everything smelled heavenly.
Toe-curling insults flew around the table, followed by light-hearted laughter. Colt’s family loved each other dearly, and they showed just how much by making fun of one another. Their bond was one I badly wanted to share.
I sat quietly by Colt’s side, taking it all in. Before my mom died, there had only the three of us at home. Mealtimes were always quiet affairs unless my dad was lecturing my mom or me on what we’d done wrong that day.
Otherwise, we sat in silence, staring at our plates. It was as different as night and day when my dad wasn’t home. My mom and I brainstormed ideas for songs and sang our hearts out to golden oldies. How I wished I could share everything that was happening in my life with her.
“You coming back to the ranch, son?” Colt’s dad, Jonah, asked before licking barbecue sauce off his fingers. “Sure could use your help. These knees of mine ain’t getting any younger. You can hear them creak every time I take a step.”
“You’ve got Beavis and Butthead there to help you out,” Colt replied, draping his arm around the back of my chair. “They’ll lift you on your horse when you can’t get your leg over.”
“That’s what she said,” Brooks, his older brother by fifteen months, said with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“Shut up, dickwad,” Gunner, the baby of the family by five years, said.
“I’m not the one who needs to shut up, asswipe,” Brooks shot back.
Gunner grinned. “I’d slap you stupid, but that would be animal abuse.”
“Children, that’s enough,” Tricia said, rolling her eyes. “Not in front of Natalie. We’ll scare her away.”
“It’s truly fine,” I said with a smile. “I enjoy hearing them torment each other.”
With a glass of wine balanced between her fingers, she gestured toward her three sons. “When they get together, they revert to snot-nosed kids again. Ever since they could talk, they’ve been teasing each other to breaking point, but woe betide anyone else who tried to pick a fight.” She took a sip of wine, then placed her hand on top of mine. “Enough about them. Are we going to hear you sing tonight? I saw the video online. You have a wonderfully unique voice. If I hadn’t seen the words coming out of your mouth, I’d have sworn you were someone older who’d seen the hard side of living.”
“I was a severely colicky baby,” I explained. “My mom said my constant crying left me with an old lady’s voice.”
“Colt was a colicky baby, too. Five o’clock was his witching hour. Jonah would put him in the car and drive around for hours trying to settle him down. Lord knows he didn’t get the ability to sing from all the screaming.”
I glanced at Colt and winked. “He said he named this place The Strangled Cat because of how he sounds when he sings.”
His dad guffawed, and his brothers sniggered.
Tricia smiled like only a mother could and tapped Colt on the cheek. “He couldn’t carry a tune if he had a bucket with a lid on it. He can play the guitar like a fiend, though. Drove us crazy playing I Walk the Line. That boy loves him some Johnny Cash.”
I gave Colt an incredulous look. “You can play? What else don’t I know about you? Do you write, too? Where’s your guitar?”
He shook his head. “I can mimic pretty much every song I hear, and know talent when I hear it, but I’m not a writer. As for my guitar, it’s gathering dust in my office. It’s been a while.”
“We’re going to write a song together, and it’ll sell a million copies.”
“I’ll stick to pouring beers and shots. Thanks all the same.”
“We’ll see about that.”
After dinner, we sat around the table and gabbed, his brothers filling me in on embarrassing stories about Colt’s life growing up and all the mischief they got up to on the ranch. Like how they used to hook up with cute tourists when they turned part of their land into a dude ranch.
Emptiness welled up inside me. I wanted so badly to be part of their lives, to be enveloped in their love and warmth.
I wanted to bring our kids to see Grandma and Grandpa on weekends. I wanted them to ride horses and have Christmas mornings on the ranch.
Colt was in his element having his family sitting by his side. There was a contentment about him I’d never seen before.
He disappeared for a few minutes, and when he reappeared, he handed me my guitar. “Sing for us.”
I handed my guitar back to him. “Only if you play.”
“Like I said, it’s been a while. I’m rusty.”
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine. How about we do something by Montana Chambers? Everyone knows her songs. Let’s do Don’t Get Mad, Get Madder.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his eyes darkened. “Don’t think I know that one. How about Reba or Dolly?”
“Fancy has always been one of my favorites,” I admitted. “My mom could sing the hell out of it. Who doesn’t love a song about a mom turning her daughter into a hooker?”
“Fancy it is,” he said with a laugh.
We both walked up to the stage. Colt sat on a stool while I stood by the mic. When he began playing, my jaw dropped. My mom’s six-string never sounded better. “You’ve been holding out on me, cowboy.”
He grinned. “Not much time for playing these days.”
The audience hooped and hollered and joined in with us, and by the time we finished the song, we were both out of breath.
I glanced over at Colt and saw the joy in his eyes. We made a great team in and out of the bedroom. The audience called for more, and of course we obliged, singing everything from Dolly Parton to Patsy Cline.
If I never ever played on stages bigger than this one, that would be okay because I was having the time of my life with the man I loved.
When we finally got off stage, Tricia hugged me tightly. “Dang, girl, you’ve got some pipes.”
“I’m all sweaty,” I protested.
“Oh, hush. Whatever you’ve done to my son, you’ve made him happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. He might say you’re nothing more than friends, but I think you’re the one.”
“I recall you saying the same thing to me once upon a time, Tricia,” said a voice from somewhere behind me.
I spun around and couldn’t believe my eyes. Montana Chambers stood a few feet from me with two hulking bodyguards on either side.
My eyes widened, and my jaw fell open. “You’re...you’re. Wow. I—”
“Well, looky here. The bitch is back,” Tricia spat.
“Nice to see you, too.” Montana’s cheeks were flushed, and her words sounded slurred, as if she’d been drinking.
Confusion muddled my brain, and I glanced at Colt, looking for an explanation. “Did you invite Montana here as a surprise for me?”
His lips narrowed until they nearly disappeared, and he shook his head.
An ugly expression filled Montana’s face, and she gave me a cold smile. “Saw on YouTube that my ex found himself a new plaything. Thought I’d come see for myself.”
I glanced from Montana to Colt and back again then icy realization washed over me, and shock followed my surprise. She was the bitch who broke his heart. “She’s—Montana Chambers is your ex?”
“Aw, he didn’t tell you, darlin? We were together for a very long time.”
“What the fuck do you want?” Colt demanded.
“I’m playing a show at Bridgestone Arena tonight. Thought I’d visit some of my old haunts. You sounded amazing up there, baby. Brought back some memories. I miss you. Miss us.” She sashayed toward him, then draped her arms around his neck.
Fury leaped into Tricia’s eyes. “If you don’t get your hands off my son, you no-good, liquor-guzzling whore, I’ll slap you to sleep.” She moved toward Montana but Jonah placed a hand on his wife’s arm to hold her back.
Montana shrugged, unaffected by Tricia’s threat. �
�As trashy as always, Mrs. Flynn. You can take the girl out of the trailer park...”
“You should know.”
My anger rose, and I stepped forward, but before I could get close enough to rip her away from him, Montana’s bodyguards got in my way.
“Aw, your little girlfriend looks like she’s about to pitch a hissy fit, Colt.”
He unhooked her arms from around his neck and pinned them by her side. “Enough.”
Chapter Six
Colt
Every muscle in my body turned to stone. Emotion warred inside of me and memories—good and bad—flooded back.
How fucking dare she walk into my life unannounced after two years of silence?
Some customers had their phones up, recording everything, and being media savvy, Montana played up to the cameras.
She placed a lingering kiss on my cheek that turned my stomach. The stench of liquor from her breath told me she’d had more than a few fingers of whiskey.
“What do you say we make sweet music together like we once did? No one’s been able to make me hit the high notes quite like you.”
“My office now,” I growled.
“Never thought you’d ask. It can be just like old times,” she said, flicking her hair over her shoulders. “Remember what we used to get up to on your swivel chair?”
Confusion filled Nat’s face, and the betrayal in her eyes cut me in two. I should have told her about Montana. Should have told her the woman who broke my heart was her idol.
I would explain everything to her as soon as I could, but for now, I needed to deal with the liquor-soaked problem standing in front of me.
“Take care of Nat, Mom,” I said and stormed toward my office, followed by a giggling Montana.
Once we were alone, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of my jeans and pressed her breasts against my chest.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I asked, unhooking her fingers and putting some distance between us.
“Continuing where we left off.”
I took a good, long look at her. Sure, on the outside, she was every cowboy’s wet dream—curvy and blond with an all-American smile, but on the inside, she was a dark and ugly egomaniac.
“Un-fucking-believable.” I gave a bitter laugh. “You think you can walk in here drunk and act like nothing happened? Like you didn’t erase me from your life?”
“Don’t be like that, Colt, baby. We were great together. I made a mistake. I should never have left you.”
“Took you two years to figure that out?”
“When I saw the video of that beached whale up on my stage, I just knew I had to get you back. You belong to me.”
“Her name is Natalie, and she has more talent in her little finger than you do in your entire liquor-soaked body. She’s not someone who uses people then spits them out.”
“You know you want this,” she said, running her hands up and down her body. “You know you want me. Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about fucking me again.”
I snorted. “You look good, Montana, but I stopped wanting you a long time ago. Get out of my bar and out of my life. We’re done here.”
“You can’t mean that.” She cried big heaving sobs, but I wasn’t fooled. Her crocodile tears wouldn’t work on me, not anymore.
“Your acting coach teach you how to cry on cue?”
Her lips twisted into an ugly smirk. “My tears are real, you heartless bastard. I’ll end you, and I’ll end this shit hole bar of yours. One word from me and I’ll make sure you never work in this town again. This place’ll be closed within the day.”
“You threatening me?”
“No one rejects me. I could buy and sell you a hundred times over, and as for your little girlfriend, her career is over before it’s even begun.”
I pointed up to the corner of the room. “See those cameras up there? They just recorded every word you said. If you do anything to Nat or me, I’ll post those videos everywhere I can.”
A small flicker of fear showed in her eyes, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. “I’d sue you.”
“Go right ahead.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Get help, Montana. Go to rehab.”
“Rehab? Please.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. “I’m not an alcoholic. I don’t have a problem.”
“Sure you don’t. What time did you have your first drink today? Breakfast?”
“None of your business.”
“Why did you really come here? Don’t think about trying to feed me some horse shit about how much you missed me.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Life was easier when I sang here. I could walk down the street and go for dinner without having a hundred cameras pointed in my face. I can’t even take a crap without paparazzi camping outside my door, and if my records don’t hit number one on release day, I’m called a has-been. There are days I wish I’d never had any success at all. I want what I had with you.”
For just a second, she looked like the young, wide-eyed woman who’d strolled into my bar all those years ago—lost and vulnerable.
“When you walked away from me, you left that life behind. I hope you find whatever you’re looking for, but you won’t find it here with me. Please leave.”
She swallowed hard and rolled back her shoulders. “I guess I’ll get going. Thanks for nothing. A long time ago you said you’d always be there for me. Guess that was a lie.”
She turned to leave, and I couldn’t believe what I was about to say. “Go stay on the ranch for a while. Take some time off. The holiday cabins are secluded enough. You won’t be bothered.”
“Like your mom will agree to that.” She looked over her shoulder and gave me a watery laugh. “She hates me.”
“You broke my heart. You treated me like dirt. She hates what you did, not who you are.”
“Nope. Pretty sure it’s hate.”
“Suit yourself. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“I’m tired, Colt,” she said in a small voice. “You’re right, I need to get away. Maybe after this tour, I’ll take some time off and go hide out in the wilderness.” She threw her arms around my neck and buried her head in my chest. “I’ll get sober. This time I mean it.”
Although we’d been intimate a thousand times or more and had seen each other at our best and worst, having her in my arms felt like I was hugging a distant relative.
Her visit was an unwelcome one, but it was one I’d needed to put the past where it belonged. I was ready to move on with my life and let Nat know how I felt. Time to be honest about my feelings for her.
There was a knock on the office door, but before I could ask who was there, Nat stormed in. The devastation on her face when she saw Montana in my arms all but broke my heart.
“You fucking bastard,” she spat, her face turning to steel.
Natalie
I couldn’t catch my breath and held on to the doorframe to stop from collapsing. My chest hurt so much I was sure my heart was cracking into a million pieces. How the fuck could he do this? The lyin’, cheatin’, no-good son of a cocksucker.
If she was back for him, I didn’t stand a chance. Smoking hot millionaire country singer or down on her luck penniless wannabe. Not a hard choice to make.
Angry tears flowed down my face and dripped from my chin. I needed to get as far away from him as I possibly could.
I shoved away from the office door and bolted toward the apartment. The only things I wanted were my notebooks. I’d grab my guitar from the stage on the way out.
Why hadn’t he been honest about Montana? Told me that my idol was the one who’d stomped his heart to smithereens?
How could I have fallen so hard for someone incapable of confiding in me? All this time, he was waiting for her to come back. Was that the reason he’d posted the video of me online—to make her jealous so she’d come running?
I wasn’t sure how, but I’d find somewhere else to live and somewhere else to sing. I
’d busk every hour God gave me on every street corner to make ends meet if I had to.
I didn’t need him.
I didn’t need anyone.
Men couldn’t be relied on because, in the end, they’d either hurt you with their fists, their words, or their actions.
Not only was I furious at him, but I was also pissed at myself for being so fucking dumb.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I’d honestly thought he was the one.
“Nattie, wait,” he called, running into the apartment after me. “Let me explain.”
“Don’t come near me,” I sobbed, turning to face him. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know how much I admired her. Was I just a stopgap till she came back?”
The confusion and pain in his eyes stopped me in my tracks. “It’s not what it looked like or what you think. She needs help.”
I rolled my tear-swollen eyes heavenward. “Oh, please. It was exactly what it looked like and from what I could see, it looked like you were helping her a whole bunch. I never want to see you again.”
Part of me ached to fall into his arms, to have him stroke my hair and kiss the pain away.
“Listen to me before you do or say something you regret,” he implored.
“Walking into this place was the first biggest mistake of my life,” I screamed, half-crazed, my eyes stinging, my nose running. “Trusting you was the second.” Sobs wracked my body, leaving me a gasping mass of emotion and splintering pain.
“I can explain,” he said, sounding desperate.
My sobs receded, and I caught my breath. “You have exactly one minute before I walk away.”
“She doesn’t want me. She only thinks she does.”
“Do you want her?” I asked, tears clogging my throat, making my voice sound syrupy.
He shook his head. “I want you. Only you. From the second you came into my bar, there’s been no one but you.” He brushed his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping away some of my still falling tears. “I—”
Before he could continue, Montana strolled into the apartment with her bodyguards in tow.
