Sometimes I have to remember,
Tonight’s not the end. Tomorrow will come.
And it starts all over again.
I’ll never stop tryin’, until your heart is mine.
’Cause nothin’ has ever felt this right.
Good night, my Katie. Good night.
I swallowed hard. Lucky winked at me and started playing the next one.
“Shit,” I whispered. This suddenly felt very real. Like publicly real. Very different than on the phone at two in the morning. I was wrong. Two a.m. was fantasy land, and this was the real world.
“Here.” Skylar took Peyton’s drink from her and stuck it in my hand. “Throw it back. All at once. You look like you just saw a ghost.”
I swallowed most of the glass, feeling the burn all the way to the pit of my stomach. Sexy Candy tasted like pink rubbing alcohol. I took in a few breaths and looked back up at the stage. Thankfully, Lucky was focused on the other side of the room.
“Was that the first time you’ve heard that song?” Skylar put an arm around my shoulders.
“No,” I whispered. “He’s sings it to me on the phone.”
“Ah. So that’s what you two do in there all night.” She smiled. “It’s a really good song.”
“It’s about me.”
“Yeah, I figured that part out.” She laughed.
I felt the alcohol as it rolled into my system. It was okay. I felt okay. “I didn’t know it at first. I thought he was just sending lyrics from one of his songs. Then I realized it was for me. And it made me feel—I don’t know. It was different when it was like some secret between us. I didn’t think he would actually perform it live.”
We watched the next couple of songs with her arm still around me. Lucky switched to his other guitar and spoke into the mic. “Did y’all like Sasha?”
Everyone clapped. Some guy whistled in the back. “Well, she’s coming back out, and my drummer from my band in Nashville is here. But he’s got this little man complex and will only take the stage if there’s a standing ovation.”
I heard Clark yell something I couldn’t understand as he climbed the steps. The giant of a man jumped behind the drums, which seemed like a toy set once he sat down.
“He’s like a sexy lumberjack.” Peyton didn’t even bother to whisper. “Don’t you think?”
I nodded as my head spun a little. That drink was stronger than I thought—and Peyton had drunk five. No wonder she thought Clark was a lumberjack.
Sasha got back behind the piano. A loud mix of notes came through the speakers as Lucky warmed up on the electric guitar. “So when I play here, I usually do a few throwback covers. So let’s kick it off with a little Lynyrd Skynyrd.”
Lucky’s fingers moved rapidly, and then Clark joined in on the drums with Sasha on the piano. They blended together so effortlessly, like they had done this a hundred times before tonight.
As they headed into the chorus of Gimme Three Steps, he looked out into the crowd. “Come on, y’all. You know the words.”
I looked out across the audience. They were singing along with him. Lucky launched into a long guitar solo in the middle and then turned it over to Sasha who seemed much happier than when she played her own set.
They followed it with Free Bird. His fingers moved on the guitar so fast, so amazing, so beautiful. This side of Lucky was incredible.
Something bubbled up inside me. It was different watching him after having just spent the hour before with the normal guy in the Center of the Universe. But, now he was on stage as this talented guitarist who made the room come alive with his music. He was both of them. He was Landon Evans. He was my Lucky.
As the feeling consumed my thoughts, I closed my eyes for a second. He was my Lucky. I was falling for him. More and more each time we talked. And tonight, I literally felt it with every note he played. I was falling for him.
I opened my eyes, staring at the stage. I might be okay with that idea.
The song ended, and he grabbed a bottle of water and tipped it back. Sitting down on the stool, he flashed the grin that would no doubt make him famous one day. A couple of ladies on the other side of the room squealed and he winked at them. “I got one more for you.”
He switched to one of his own songs. It was slow. The pace had a slight swing to it. His voice came out low and sexy. Lucky looked back over at me. I blushed as he smiled. The attraction grabbed me as the giddiness rolled around inside me. I felt like we were talking in some secret code. He was playing just for me, and I was the only one watching.
His words. His voice. It was just like all those nights on the phone.
Except he was physically in front of me. His shirt clung to his chest, covered in sweat. His lips brushed the mic several times as his heart poured out into his words. The more I watched his mouth, the more I wanted to kiss him. My tongue ran absently over my bottom lip. He winked at me, which made me blush.
His voice was everywhere, vibrating from the speakers. Low. Deep. The sway of the song, the constant beat of the drums.
All of the intense pieces were mixing together in the sexy darkness of the bar. It was getting hot in here. My fingers gripped my thighs as he caught my gaze again and grinned.
“Are you two eye-fucking right now?” Peyton whispered in my ear.
The heat flushed my cheeks as I glanced over at her. Maybe I was attracted to Landon Evans just as much as Lucky.
The red dirt billowed out from behind the truck as we flew down the road. He grinned at me a few times before reaching across the seat and taking my hand. “Have you ever been this far out of town?”
“No.”
“It’s better in the spring. All green.”
I leaned back against the seat taking in the scene. I was still tired from last night—one of many long nights in a string of long nights over the last couple of weeks.
Letting go of my fingers, Lucky shifted gears as we turned into a gravel driveway. I peered out the window, seeing a house with a little round tower on one end that reminded me of a castle. Lucky parked the truck in the circle driveway and pointed up toward the roof. “That right there on the end is Mia’s princess room.”
“Because every little girl needs a princess room?”
“Exactly.” He laughed.
I surveyed the outside of his brother’s home. Colt must be pretty successful with his company because this house was gorgeous. I followed Lucky around the scattered toys across the lawn.
The walkway by the patio had MIA and ZACH permanently etched into the ground. The sight made my heart flutter as the nostalgia swept through me. Those kids would step over those words a thousand times. And those names would still be in that exact same spot when they packed their cars for college.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Shaking my head, I quickly caught up with Lucky and he put his arm around my waist. We walked around the pool that was covered with the winter tarp. He stopped in front of the building on the other side. I burst out laughing, seeing the door to his “pool house.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Well. I’d imagined you living on a cot next to inflatable rafts and a giant rubber ducky.”
“A rubber ducky?” He opened the door, letting me go in before him.
“How was I to know your brother’s idea of a pool house was something from MTV Cribs?”
The inside was beautiful with a fireplace and dark wood. It reminded me of some posh cabin in the woods. I turned around, looking for the stuffed grizzly bear. Instead, I got a full view of granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.
“Colt didn’t originally have this as part of his house. He added it about two years ago. You know, every country superstar needs a place to hide from the cameras.”
“Oh, so now you think you’re a country superstar?” I gave him a playful whack to the arm.
Lucky grabbed me from behind, wrapping his arms around my whole body, pinning my hands to my sides. He kissed the sid
e of my jaw and then pressed his lips on my neck. “If you start hitting me, I’ll just have to hold you down and torture you.”
I relaxed into his chest. I liked the feel of him. The way he curved around me. The way he fit against my body. I tipped my chin back, seeing the smile on his face. He was too cute for his own good. And last night, I did see a superstar on that stage. But I wouldn’t let him in on that little secret because it would just make his head blow up ten times bigger.
Lucky let go and went into the kitchen. “You want something to drink? I got Coke and beer. Maybe some lemonade if Mia didn’t drink it all.”
“Coke’s good.” I walked into the living room, seeing several guitars on a stand and scattered papers by a keyboard. “You play piano?”
“Yeah, sometimes I write on the piano. I play by ear, which makes writing songs interesting. I have to go back and figure out the notes I’m hearing in my head.”
“So you play regular guitar, electric guitar, and piano.”
I glanced over, seeing his amused grin. “Acoustic guitar.”
“You play that too?”
“No, that’s what you’re calling a regular guitar.”
“Oh.” My fingers ran over the keyboard. “I’m impressed.”
I expected one of his funny comebacks, but he didn’t say anything. Lucky just flashed that lazy grin as he watched me. I blushed and went back to my tour of his place.
He had a record player with hundreds of albums stacked on the shelves. And then in a slot on display at the top, I saw an old cover with a signature. Leaning up on my tiptoes, I peered at the writing.
I gasped. “You’ve got a signed Johnny Cash.”
“I do,” he said as he came back into the living room with my glass of Coke. “Have you actually listened to something on vinyl before?”
“I . . . well—I guess not.”
He gestured toward the shelves. “Pick something out.”
My fingers moved softly over the edges. Pulling out one here and there, seeing the classics. Some I recognized and some I didn’t. Then I was surprised. He had a whole shelf of new ones. “They still make records?”
“Yeah, they still make records.” He shook his head. “This is sad, you know.”
I went to the next shelf. It was an entire collection of Conway Twitty. Well, this must be someone he really liked. I pulled out a random greatest hits album and handed it to him.
Lucky carefully took the giant disc out of the cardboard holder. “Most of these came from Wally. He played a couple of tours with Conway.”
As the room filled with sound, Lucky came over to me and lifted my drink from my hand, setting it on the coffee table. “Come on.”
And before I knew what was happening, his hand was on my waist and we were dancing. My head fell back in laughter as Lucky spun me around in a circle. He pulled me against his chest as his hips swayed back and forth.
“I’ve heard this one before, but I thought it was an Elvis song.”
He stared back in horror. “Oh, no. You didn’t just say that. It’s Only Make Believe was written and recorded by Mr. Conway Twitty himself in 1958.”
“I’m sorry?” I shrugged. “I don’t know that much about old country.”
“Well, I guess we have some work to do.” He kissed me softly as the next song played on the record. The words of Hello Darlin’ filled the room.
“This song always makes me feel sad,” he whispered.
“It does?”
“He loved her yet somehow he lost her. And he sees her after all this time, maybe at a grocery store, while all these people are moving past them. And it’s loud. But he just stares at her. Tries to have this normal conversation, which is the music. But on the inside he’s dying, which are the words.”
I didn’t say anything as I listened to the song. Such a steady beat on the outside. Then on the inside, heartbreaking. It was very deceiving. “You’re right. It’s actually a very sad song.”
As we continued to dance, the record player switched to a fast song. Lucky started singing the words to Tight Fittin’ Jeans and gave me a little slap on the butt.
“You’re funny.” I laughed.
And then I found myself spinning out in a circle again before he moved to a real country two-step. I stumbled along. My feet went in the wrong direction, and I slammed into his body.
“Katie, you gotta let go and let me lead.”
“What?”
We stopped moving as he stared into my eyes. “You’re trying to lead. That’s not how this works. You have to let go and let me control this.” He put one hand on my waist and then held the other. “Close your eyes and trust me. Just listen to the song.”
The room went dark as I took a deep breath. The music moved with a solid beat. We moved across the floor, slowly as I got used to him. He pulled us a little closer together and whispered in my ear. “See how much better this is.”
The warm tingles spread through my body each time he brushed against me, which was actually more seductive than holding me tight. His hips bumped against mine. It was a teasing dance as he moved me across the floor while my eyes remained closed.
I heard the song playing softly.
I heard him breathing.
I heard the sound of my own heart as it got faster with every step.
The record switched to the next song. I continued to concentrate on the words and the music instead of my feet. As the lyrics played in the room, a nervous feeling moved slowly through me. We danced slower and our bodies got closer until there was no space between us. And then Lucky sang the words to I’d Just Love to Lay You Down next to my ear.
My eyes flew open, but I couldn’t look at him. Not when I felt every finger touching me. The way his chest was warm against my breasts. And his hips. They were pressed tight, so very tight against me while Conway Twitty sang causally about having sex in the grass—at least, I think it was in the grass.
“You’re not going to look at me now, Katie?”
“During the song about sex?”
“You’re funny.” He laughed, placing a soft kiss on my cheek. “There’s more to the song than sex.”
I finally met his gaze. Our eyes held for a moment as I searched his face for the answer to a question I had yet to ask. The one I knew would come up eventually since he got back yesterday. “Do you want to have sex with me? Is that . . . is that why you brought me here today?”
“The truth?” His eyes soften. “Yes, I want to have sex with you. But not until you want to.”
I nodded. But I felt the overwhelming pressure of how quickly this was moving between us. And sometimes I just needed a moment to catch up. I took a step away, separating us. “This is all moving really fast, Lucky. Maybe not for you. But for me. This is fast. We just met.”
He seemed worried for a moment, reaching up and tugging on his hair until his smile returned.
“Darlin’ . . .” He exaggerated the word, turning on his teasing charm. “I didn’t invite you over to get naked today. But if you said yes right now, then we’d be in the bedroom. But I’m okay with just dancing. ’Cause I really like dancing.”
I couldn’t help but smile even as the confusion stayed intertwined in my thoughts. Sometimes he was just so sweet and addictive, pulling me in, making everything seem okay. He closed the space between us, placing one hand on my waist and another on my cheek. His thumb ran over my skin.
“Don’t be afraid of me or what’s going on between us. Maybe it’s fast. But if you spend your whole life worrying, then you will forget to live. Don’t get caught up in the maybes.”
“The maybes?”
“Maybe this is forever. Maybe it’s for now. Maybe we will have sex. Maybe we won’t. It doesn’t matter because we are having fun right now. I like you. And I like spending time with you.” His arms circled around me, holding me close again. “And right now, I like dancing with you. That’s all that matters.”
I knew he meant it. And that was even harder. He was a guy who
lived in the moment. And I wasn’t. My smile faded a bit. “I’m sorry to be this way. It’s just hard, Lucky. Being with you. Not knowing the future. And not having some sort of plan. Everything about you is like the complete opposite of a plan.”
“True, but it makes it an adventure. Don’t you think?”
“And the pain harder in the end if we don’t work out.”
“That’s the risk, I guess. But nothing good comes without a risk.” His eyebrows knitted up. “I would never intentionally hurt you, Katie. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“So just let go. Have fun with me.”
I felt a sudden wave of emotion. His soft words. The sincerity in his gaze. The record switched to a slow song, and I fell under the spell of the music.
He leaned in, kissing my forehead before running his nose down mine. Our faces were almost flush as his lips brushed mine with a feather-light touch. “Have fun with me.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
Lucky smiled as our feet began to move again. I laid my head against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart against my cheek. I liked dancing with him too. Closing my eyes, I thought about what he said. “So you like dancing better than sex?”
“That’s not what I said.” He chuckled.
“That’s what I heard.”
“You’re funny.” He kissed my cheek. “And beautiful. And sometimes I forget to breathe when I look at you.”
The nervous waves floated through me. His words made me feel special in a way that was hard to accept sometimes. He was just so free with them, like he said whatever popped in his head.
“You should put that in a song,” I whispered. “Might make you famous.”
“Maybe.” I heard his laugh as he held me a little tighter. “Or maybe I just want to say it to you.”
We danced through the next song on the record. No twirling or spinning this time. Just two bodies pressed together as the music played.
“Whatcha doing?” The tiny voice came from next to us.
My eyes flew open. Lifting my head up from his chest, I saw a little girl with brown pigtails and a large shaggy dog. Lucky laughed. “Well, Mia. We’re dancing.”
My Lucky Days: A Novel Page 9
