Falling Star (A Shooting Stars Novel Book 2)

by Terri Osburn

  She laughed, and his gut tightened. “All right then.” Naomi took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Into the lion’s den we go.”

  Hands clasped, they stepped into a blindingly white kitchen that he assumed could have fallen straight out of Southern Living magazine. No stacks of mail on the counter. No dishes in the sink. Just total silence as five sets of eyes turned their way. Baker kept his gaze on the older woman holding a stack of plates.

  Naomi’s grip tightened as she offered a quick wave with her free hand. “Hello, everyone. I brought a guest.”

  A willowy figure with light brown hair embarked on a coughing fit, prompting the man beside her, wearing what Chance considered golf-course attire, to absently pat her on the back. An older gentleman transitioned from astonished to approving in a matter of seconds, as he shoved past what had to be Naomi’s intended escort for the evening.

  “Welcome to our home,” he said, wide smile revealing perfect, pearly whites. “I’m Benny Mallard, Naomi’s dad.” The patriarch turned to introduce the rest of the gathering, some of whom looked less enthused about the intruder in their midst. “Here’s our oldest daughter, Mary Beth, and her husband, Lawrence. Their girls are playing in the other room, but you’ll meet them soon. Our youngest, Baker, who I’m guessing you might have met outside, and this is my wife, Dawn.” With less zeal, he added, “This is Neal. He lives next door.”

  The pretty boy waved, drawing the baby blue Polo shirt tight across bulging muscles. Since when did doctors get that kind of gym time?

  In collective silence, they stared, either not sure what to say, or restrained enough not to say what they were thinking.

  “Naomi didn’t tell us you were coming,” her dad said. “So we’re all a little surprised.”

  Yeah. He could see that.

  “Nice to meet you all. I’m Chance Colburn.”

  The no-longer-coughing brunette muttered, “Oh my God,” as she reached for a pot holder and fanned herself.

  Naomi finally found her voice. “Chance coming was a last-minute thing. Mom always makes more food than we can eat, so I figured one more guest wouldn’t hurt.”

  Heavy plates slammed down on the massive island. “Of course,” Dawn said, unable to muster even a fake smile. “Any friend of Naomi’s is welcome here.”

  Curling into Chance’s side, Naomi corrected her mother’s assumption. “Chance and I are more than friends, Mom. You always say you want to meet the men I date. So here you go.”

  The announcement went over about as well as Chance expected, based on initial reactions. Big Sis chugged the wine in her hand. Her hubby bit his thumb to hide his laughter. And Mr. Next Door Doctor pinched his lips so tight Chance feared he might swallow them. All while Benny continued to beam with approval and Dawn openly simmered.

  “Naomi Marie, can I talk to you in the living room for a minute?”

  Clinging to his arm, his quasi date turned down the request. “We can talk later, Mother. Baker, would you pass us two waters from the fridge?” Little Brother did as asked, and Naomi handed one to Chance. “Are we ready to eat?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Benny said, rubbing his hands together. “I’m starving.”

  His wife wasn’t ready to concede the battle. “I don’t know that we can fit another place at the table.”

  “Oh yeah,” Baker cut in. “Priscilla couldn’t make it. But hey, Chance can take her place.” The boy would make a terrible actor.

  “Great.” Naomi set her purse on the counter before dragging her make-believe date around the island, bypassing her family and charging into the next room.

  Naomi had never been so mortified in all her life. Yes, she’d expected her mother to be annoyed that her plan had been thwarted. But open hostility to a perfect stranger was completely unacceptable. If she wanted to be angry with Naomi, that was fine. But she would not take that anger out on Chance.

  The family filed into the dining room, where Naomi and Chance had already taken their seats. She’d endured enough of these dinners to know the seating chart with her eyes closed. Mary Beth, her daughters Felicity and Madison—seven and five, respectively—then Lawrence all on one side of the table. Two-year-old Brianna’s high chair occupied an area at the corner between her mother and grandmother. Baker always shared the opposite side with Naomi, but tonight a third chair had been added to their side, and another next to Lawrence.

  If her mother had meant for Neal to sit next to Naomi, she must have intended to put Baker and his girlfriend on opposite sides. Thanks to a nonverbal exchange with her brother, he beat Neal to the empty seat next to her, leaving their neighbor the only seat left—next to Lawrence.

  So far, Operation Avoid the Doctor was going well.

  Lawrence and Mary Beth worked together to dish up the girls’ plates, while the others passed around platters of garlic-Parmesan chicken, new potatoes with asparagus, roasted carrots, and dinner rolls.

  Once everyone had their food, Lawrence kicked off the usual catching-up-on-the-week conversation. “How’s the new job going, Bake?”

  “Good. Real good. One week in, and I’m already assistant lead on a new start-up idea.”

  “Nice,” Mary Beth said. “How was the course today, Dad?” Unlike Naomi, her sister was a natural-born athlete. She loved to golf but hadn’t been able to use her clubs much since Brianna had come along.

  “We had low wind and plenty of sunshine. Can’t complain about that.” Her father sliced through a potato. “You need to get back out there with me.”

  “I hope to soon.”

  Conversation lulled as food was consumed. Naomi feared someone would muster up the courage to ask Chance something, and at the same time, she feared they wouldn’t.

  As if reading her mind, her mother said, “Mr. Colburn, how long have you known my daughter?”

  Multiple sets of silverware hovered in the air, everyone but the girls anxious to hear the answer.

  “Please,” he said, “call me Chance. Nay and I met seven years ago, when she worked PR for my first album.”

  He’d said they should stick with the truth, but she hadn’t realized how honest he intended to be. Nervous for the follow-up question, Naomi struggled to chew the bite of tender chicken in her mouth.

  “That’s odd,” her mother drawled. “She’s never mentioned knowing you.” Was she accusing Chance of lying or Naomi of keeping a secret?

  “That was back when I worked for Martha Reynolds, remember?” Naomi gathered carrots onto her fork. “Chance was one of the first artists I ever worked with. He wasn’t as famous as he is now, so I guess it never occurred to me to mention it.”

  Her mother cut into her own chicken. “He’s certainly famous now, isn’t he? Or maybe I should say notorious?”

  Heat spiraled up Naomi’s neck as anger closed her throat. Chance had come here as a favor. He didn’t deserve insults for his trouble.

  “Let’s talk about something else.” Stabbing a piece of asparagus, Naomi glanced across the table. “How’s the insurance business, Lawrence?”

  “Neal is a doctor,” Dawn announced, as if her daughter hadn’t spoken at all. “He’s joined a group of plastic surgeons associated with Vanderbilt Medical Center.”

  “I specialize in reconstructive surgery,” Neal explained. “Detail work, really.”

  “Maybe he’ll be working on some of your friends, Chance.”

  Great. Now she was expanding the backhanded insults to company. This meal could not end soon enough.

  “That’s a possibility,” he replied. “I hear nose jobs are all the rage with us country music folk.” Pointing his empty fork Neal’s way, he said, “Give me some business cards and I’ll pass them around at the next award show.”

  Neal reached for his back pocket. “Really? That would be awesome.”

  Dad put a hand on the eager surgeon’s arm. “Put the cards away, son. Chance is only kidding.”

  “Oh.”

  Naomi almost felt sorry for him. Neal was a guest at
this awkward dinner, the same as Chance was. Other than being her mother’s choice for her new son-in-law, he’d done nothing to earn a part in this farce.

  “I don’t see the humor,” her mother said, apparently taking offense at Chance’s joke. “Neal does real work. I was only suggesting—”

  “That people in my profession are vain,” Chance finished for her. “Yeah, I got it.”

  “I need more wine,” Mary Beth uttered as she edged her chair back.

  Their mother’s next words kept her eldest in her seat. “Maybe we should skip the alcohol for tonight. Out of consideration for our unexpected guest.”

  That was it. Bolting to her feet, Naomi tossed her napkin on the table. “This was a mistake.”

  Chance took her hand. “Nay, it’s all right.”

  “No, it is not all right.” She turned on her mother. “Rudeness and disrespect have never been tolerated in this house. Never. Yet the first time I bring a man home that I truly care about, you treat him like a . . . a criminal.”

  Her mother stood, slamming her hands on the table. “He is a criminal, Naomi. Do you think we don’t read the papers? He was in jail just last year. The man is a drunk.”

  Fire raged behind Naomi’s eyes as her hands curled into fists, each nail pressing divots into her palms. “That’s a bit of a pot-and-kettle statement, isn’t it, Mother? How much wine do you consume in a day?”

  “We all need to calm down,” her father said.

  “You calm down.” Naomi shoved her chair backward. “Chance and I are leaving.”

  Mary Beth wadded her own napkin and set it on the table. “We’re going, too.”

  “What?” Lawrence said.

  His wife shot him an impatient glare. “I said, we’re leaving.”

  “But we just started eating,” Felicity pointed out.

  After lifting the child off her chair, Naomi’s sister reached for her middle child. “Get your shoes on, girls, while Daddy fetches Brie’s bag.”

  Finally catching on, Lawrence leaped into action. “I can do that.”

  Naomi waited for Chance to stand up. With unhurried movements, he rose to his feet and dropped his napkin on his chair.

  “It was nice to meet you all. Have a good night.”

  Before they reached the edge of the dining room, her father jumped to his feet. “Dawn, say something. This is ridiculous.”

  Her mother chose to remain silent.

  Drowning in embarrassment and guilt, Naomi picked up her pace, thankful for Chance’s warm hand in hers. She wouldn’t have blamed him for pulling away. This was her fault. Naomi never should have let him do this for her.

  As they passed through the kitchen, Naomi grabbed her purse off the counter.

  “Hold on,” Mary Beth called, catching them at the door to the sunroom. “I’m sorry,” she said to Chance. “That was inexcusable, what my mother said back there. I want you to know that she doesn’t speak for all of us. Lawrence and I would love to have you guys over for dinner some time. I promise, it’ll go better than this.”

  Moved by the show of solidarity, Naomi fought back tears as she hugged her sister tight. “Thank you.”

  With a squeeze in return, her sibling said, “Anytime.”

  Chapter 17

  Most of the time, Chance accepted his role as outcast without complaint. He’d earned the strikes against him. Done little to change people’s perceptions of the bad boy who chased trouble like a hound chased a rabbit. But for just a second, he’d forgotten how badly his missteps affected the people around him.

  When they reached the limo, he ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Naomi sniffled as she wiped away a tear. “I’m horrified right now. No one should be talked to like that.”

  “Technically, she was talking about me. And everything she said is true.” After so many meetings, saying the next words should have been easier by now. “I am a drunk.”

  She grasped the front of his shirt. “Don’t say that. What happened last year isn’t who you are. This is who you are.” She pressed her forehead to his chest. “A man who would face down a self-righteous shrew of a mother because her cowardly daughter couldn’t face her down alone.”

  Awed by her adamant defense of his undeserving character, Chance wrapped his arms around her. “You didn’t look like a coward when you burst out of that chair. For a minute there, I thought you were going to turn over the whole table.”

  Naomi sniffed again. “I wouldn’t do that to my nieces.”

  Even in anger, she thought of others first. Chance could learn a lot from this woman.

  “Let’s go for a ride,” he said. “Victor is ours for the night. We might as well use him.”

  Stepping away, she patted his shirt back into place. “You’ve done enough for me already. I should probably go home and figure out how I’m going to fix this.”

  As far as Chance was concerned, Naomi shouldn’t have to fix anything. Regardless of what Dawn Mallard thought of him, she’d embarrassed and insulted her daughter tonight. If anyone needed to right some wrongs, it was her.

  “Come on. I know the perfect spot. Nothing but tall grass and crickets chirping.” Lifting her chin with one finger, he brushed away a tear with his thumb. “Take a break from the world for a while, Nay. You deserve it.”

  Dark lashes lowered as her eyes dropped to his mouth. “That does sound like a nice place to visit.”

  Giving in to temptation, Chance pressed his lips to hers, gentle, demanding nothing. The kiss lasted only a heartbeat, but rekindled a yearning he’d buried deep the day she’d walked out of his life.

  “Come with me.”

  Her forehead brushed his chin as she surrendered. “Okay.”

  Never in her thirty years had Naomi ever screamed at her mother. Not when she’d repeatedly invaded her privacy. Or embarrassed her in front of her friends. Or insisted on living with her the entire first week of Naomi’s freshman year of college. With a sigh of acceptance, she’d endured the constant meddling, judgment, and demands that were an unavoidable part of being Dawn Mallard’s daughter.

  Tonight, that acceptance had come to an end. As the limousine traveled the streets of Nashville with the sun fading through the trees, Naomi held tight to Chance’s hand, replaying the episode with her family in her mind. What could she have done differently? She supposed making Chance’s appearance less of a surprise would have been a good place to start. A simple “I met someone and he’s coming to dinner” might have at least saved Neal from witnessing such an embarrassing scene. Naomi had been so set on derailing her mother’s plan, she hadn’t thought the whole thing through.

  In truth, she’d been too focused on the concept of having a date with Chance, even a fake one, to concentrate on anything else. Which was not easy to admit. She hadn’t hated him in a long time, mostly thanks to a short stint in therapy. After Naomi had had three unexplained panic attacks in two months, April had convinced her to seek help. That led to therapy, where she’d learned the source of her problem.

  Naomi was, as the therapist had put it, high-strung. She set high standards, both for herself and others, and she also internalized her emotions—anger, stress, fear, and sadness being the most brutal. Always willing to fix a problem, she’d endured the sessions, done the work required, and come out the other side significantly lighter. One of the weights she’d let go of was Chance. But no longer hating him hadn’t meant she’d forgiven him.

  Regardless of the changes he’d made, the past remained an issue for Naomi. His sleeping with Martha had broken her heart, but his failure to apologize or explain had deepened the blow. Did she really want to know why, after all this time? Knowing wouldn’t change the past. Wouldn’t undo the ugly way they’d parted. And neither would dwelling on it, or holding grudges.

  Considering her current situation—riding in a limo, hand in hand with the man in question—maybe forgiveness had finally come. Could it really be that ea
sy? Nothing had been easy for Chance. If she’d wanted karma to bite him in the ass, Naomi had certainly gotten her wish. Look where he was today. A recovering alcoholic with a criminal record and a failing career, unless together they were able to orchestrate the greatest comeback of the decade.

  Chance had served his penance. It was time to leave the past behind.

  “You okay over there?” he asked, as if sensing a change.

  “I am.” Naomi lifted their hands to place a kiss on his knuckles. “You’re a good man, Chance.”

  He watched her with a cautious expression. “Some folks would argue with that.”

  “Let them argue.” She leaned her head on his strong shoulder. “I know the truth.”

  The moment Chance dropped a kiss on the top of her head, the dividing window descended. “Sir, there’s a gate ahead.”

  “The chain isn’t locked. Just slide it off and pull on through.”

  Lost in her own thoughts, Naomi hadn’t noticed how far they’d gone. There wasn’t a light to be found in any direction. Victor exited the car and she watched him cover the dusty ground to a wide gate.

  “Are we trespassing?”

  “Don’t worry. I know the owner.”

  So they wouldn’t be arrested, but the statement did little to ease her mind. “Where are we? This looks like the middle of nowhere.”

  “Looks can be deceiving.” Chance reached above him and pressed a button, sending a section of the roof sliding forward. A thin pane of tinted glass did the same, revealing an expanse of sky quickly filling with stars. Pausing with a twinkle in his eye, he said, “Stars and crickets chirping, as promised.”

  The sound was faint, but Naomi had no doubt the volume would increase as the night grew darker. The scent of honeysuckle and pine filled the car.

  “That smells wonderful. How far did we drive?”

  “Not far. We’re just south of town.”

  Victor returned to his seat and moved them into a dark field. Tall grass brushed the car on both sides and an owl hooted in the distance. Naomi felt as if they were driving into the pages of a book. A children’s story, in which the moon might start talking at any moment.