Hard To Love (Rockin' Country #4)

by Laramie Briscoe

  Growing flustered, she opened the door wider so that he could come in. “You know you’re hot. Just stop.”

  He laughed, crossing the threshold. “I love the way your eyes eat me up though. Makes me feel like I could take on an entire country on my own and beat the shit out of a world champion welter-weight.”

  She had no doubt he could do those things either. “What are we doing today?”

  “Spending the day together; we haven’t done that enough.” He walked over and wrapped her in his arms.

  She inhaled the spicy scent that was him and rested her head on his chest. “Sounds good to me. Let’s go!”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  * * *

  Since Jared had never done the touristy things Nashville had to offer, Shell was excited when he parked in a garage off Broadway.

  “I’ve never walked up and down Broadway or Printer’s Alley or any of that hokey stuff,” he told her, a smart-ass smile on his face as he said the word hokey.

  “It isn’t hokey, you asshole. This is part of the history of Nashville.” She laughed as they got out of his truck.

  March in Nashville was a crap-shoot. It could either be cold, with winter sticking around and even snow, or it could be nice, with spring making an emergence. Luckily for them, spring was making an emergence. Grabbing her jacket and his hand, she directed them out of the parking garage, and they randomly began walking.

  Up and down the city streets, they walked, talked, and window shopped. As they made a turn, Jared stopped them by pulling on her hand.

  “Has Hannah ever played here?”

  She saw they stood in front of the Ryman. “She has.” Shell smiled, remembering that night. “It was early in her career, before the Bridgestone or even the Woods at Fontanel came calling. I have to tell you though; I’d rather her play a venue like this than the arena. When they say that’s the church of music, they aren’t lying. You walk in that place, and you can feel it.”

  “I’d love to play there,” he admitted. “An all-acoustic show, Reaper and Harmony. Damn, could you imagine it? Their voices meld so well together, you singing back up, me playing an acoustic guitar. I’m gettin’ chills thinking about it.”

  “Why don’t you tell them?” Shell looked up at him. “Not everything is about Reaper and Harmony, ya know? There are other people involved too, and I bet they would be all for it. I’m not kidding when I tell you it’s one of the most amazing venues in the world that we’ve ever been in.”

  “Maybe I will.” He squeezed her hand. “What’s it gonna hurt? Right?”

  “Right.” She grinned up at him. “The worst thing they can say is no.”

  Maybe that was it though; maybe he didn’t want the rejection. Rejection had been such a big part of his life. “You’re right. I gotta get over the fear of people thinking my ideas are shit.”

  “It happens to everybody, J. Doesn’t mean anyone is saying they don’t want you in their lives. They’re just saying that maybe that’s not for them at that moment. Positive thinking.” She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Get outta here with that shit,” he teased as he curled his arm around her neck and pulled her close. “I don’t know about you, but I have a sweet tooth.”

  “I got all the sweet you need, right here,” she teased back, winding her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

  * * *

  “This is the kind of sweet tooth I was talking about.” He moaned as he took a bite of his banana split.

  “This is amazing.” She answered his moan with one of her own as she took a bite of her brownie à la mode.

  They were quiet as they both tore into their ice cream. As Jared slowed down, he began speaking. “How’s the demo business going for you?”

  That was the last question she’d expected from him. She didn’t talk about this with many people, and as far as she could recall, the two of them had never had a conversation about it. “I love it,” she answered honestly. “I love to sing, it’s one of my passions, but I don’t want anything else that goes with it. I don’t want people telling me what size to be, what food to eat, what color my hair should be, and I sure as fuck don’t want fans trying to control my life. This lets me do something I love while having none of the commitment.” She winked. “And if there’s a great song I think Hannah might like, I tell her.”

  “You little spy.”

  “You have to do what you have to do in this business,” she argued.

  “I think the country business is way more cutthroat than the rock business, to be honest.” He took another bite of his ice cream. “There seems to be a lot of backdoor deals.”

  “You have no fucking idea. I’m glad Hannah’s taken this time off. She needed it to regroup, and to be honest, so did I. It’s difficult advocating for her all the time when all I want to do is tell people to shove it up their ass.”

  “I think that’s what I love about you more than anything else, you’re a bulldog. You protect Hannah with everything you have, and you make no excuses for it. At the same time, you keep her honest about her own shit.”

  She dropped her spoon. “If you haven’t noticed, Jared, I do the same shit for you.”

  He hadn’t noticed, and he felt stupid for not noticing, but now that she’d said it, he realized she spoke the truth. His life had completely changed when he’d met her, and it’d changed for the better. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.” He leaned over, kissing her, tasting the chocolate against her lips.

  Shell breathed easier than she had in a long time. For the first time in months, there wasn’t a voice in the back of her head telling her not to completely let her guard down because he’d hurt her before. There wasn’t that feeling that this could all be ripped from her. Instead, she felt hope and like this would work out. It was the best feeling she’d ever had in her life.

  They finished up their ice cream and took off down the street, walking back towards his truck. “It’s starting to get dark. I guess I should take you home,” he said as they made their way back into the parking garage.

  He leaned up against the quarter-panel, pulling her between his thighs and giving her another kiss as he ran his hands down her back.

  She leaned up so that she spoke in his ear. “What if I told you I don’t want to go home tonight? What if I told you instead that I want to go home with you?”

  “I’d say that sounds like the best news I’ve heard all day.”

  She kissed his neck. “Then please, take me home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  * * *

  On the way to his condo, it had gotten darker, and clouds had rolled in, signaling a spring storm. They could feel the electricity of it cackling, almost like the electricity between the two of them.

  Jared led her up the condo, never letting go of her hand. When they walked inside, he finally dropped it to take his jacket off and throw his keys on the counter. “I didn’t even give you the tour last time you were here,” he told her, putting his hands in his back pocket, trying to keep them to himself.

  “I only need to know where the bedroom is.” Her eyes were bright, her cheeks were flushed, and he wanted to make sure that look stayed on her face.

  He didn’t know what he had done to deserve this, didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her, but he wasn’t going to be a dumbass again. There were only so many chances she would give him, so many times he could expect her to look the other way. “C’mere,” he whispered, crooking his finger at her.

  She came to him, not asking any questions.

  The trust she gave him never failed to bring him to his knees. Picking her up, he placed her on one of the high-top chairs that he used at the breakfast bar. Using his hands, he tilted her chin up to him and melded their lips together, coaxing hers apart, allowing him to slide his tongue into her mouth, allowing him to move her head to his liking. Slowly, his hands moved from her chin, down her shoulders, her sides, her stomach, to the edge of her T-shirt.
Once there, he fisted the shirt in his hands and pulled his lips away from hers, lifting the material off her body, leaving her in a black lace bra.

  “Damn, I like that.” He caressed her flesh through the lace, watching as her nipple hardened against his palm, liking the way it poked out between the scraps of lace. “Feel good?” he asked, taking in the look on her face.

  “Yeah.” She nodded, putting her hands behind her on the flat countertop, using it prop herself up and thrust her chest towards him.

  Jared took the hint and unhooked the front clasp of the bra, sliding the straps down so that it hung at her wrists. “Don’t move your hands; keep offering those tits up to me.”

  She did as he asked, not moving a muscle.

  Taking his bottom lip in between his teeth, he widened his stance and leaned forward, curling his fingers around hers on the countertop. As he leaned forward, it put him at eye level with her chest. He quirked a brow and swooped in, grasping the hard flesh between his teeth, using his tongue to stroke against the nub before letting go with his teeth and sucking deeply.

  Her head lolled back on her neck, and it felt like he spent hours there, caressing, biting, licking, and sucking. She felt boneless, more turned on than she’d ever felt in her life.

  “Jared,” she breathed loudly, trying to move her hands so that she could push herself further into his mouth.

  He refused to release her hands and bit down harder when her legs came off of the seat and curled around his waist, bringing her hot heat in touch with his hard body.

  “Goddamn, Shell,” he cursed as he pulled away from her. His hands went to her thighs and he lifted her up around his waist as he walked towards the bedroom.

  * * *

  Shell had never been so excited in her life as she was when he set her down on the soft cushion of what she assumed was his bed. No light was on in the room, and because it was cloudy outside and rain beat against the window, it gave them a soft, muted glow. It was enough to make her think she was in the middle of her own romance novel.

  Watching as Jared straightened and rid himself of not only his shirt, but his jeans and boots, she went to work on hers. If he got naked, she damn well wanted to get naked too. Within minutes both of them were as bare as the day they were born, and he’d scooted her further back on the bed before taking a knee and sinking against her.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he praised her, his stubbled cheek rubbing against her shoulder as he buried his mouth in her neck.

  She flexed her fingers against his shoulders as he nipped at her sensitive flesh, soothing the burn with the soft lash of his tongue. It was a mysterious mix of hard and soft, and she didn’t know which one she would get. Keeping her on edge and guessing seemed to be his game today. When his mouth moved down her chest, again capturing her turgid flesh, her hand did some exploring of its own and circled around his hard length. She moaned as it jumped in her hand, and so did he.

  “Damn, that feels good,” he mumbled against her skin. “Don’t stop.”

  She began moving her hand up and down his length, using the lubrication that was already there to ease her strokes. When his breathing picked up and it became a sharp inhale through his nose, she used her palm, sliding it over the tip before going back down against his hard flesh. Squirming against him, she tried to get closer, wanting to be as close to him as she’d ever been.

  He trailed one hand down her stomach, and using two fingers, he breached her body, groaning against her flesh. “Fuck, Shell, you’re so wet.”

  “I know.” She scissored her legs against him. “I want you. Please don’t make me wait!”

  They were the most honest words she’d ever spoken. She did want him—in every way that she could have him. That scared her more than she cared to admit, but she’d never lived her life playing it safe.

  He withdrew his fingers from her body and lifted himself up on one arm. Pushing her hand from his dick, he used the hand he’d had inside her body to give himself a few strokes before he leveled himself on the bed and pressed home.

  It had never been like this with another woman, not in all the years he’d been having sex or been in relationships, it had never been like this with anyone else. He pumped his hips, pulling in, pushing out, as he cupped her face in his hand, bringing their lips together. His other hand grasped her fingers, pushing them deeper into the mattress as he owned her body.

  “Deeper,” she begged. “Faster.”

  Digging her heels into his lower back, she urged him on.

  He let go of her hand and pulled the lower part of his body up, resting on his knees and thighs, leaning so that he could grasp the headboard. Using it for leverage, he thrust deeply into her, causing them both to groan.

  “Stop holding back.” She moved her hands up her own body, grasping the tips of her breasts, twisting them with her own hands.

  He growled as he watched, his measured strokes becoming haphazard and faster. His rhythm faltered when she gasped loudly and squeezed his body with hers. A loud yell from him, and he was spilling himself deeply into her body.

  As they lay there, both trying to catch her breath, she told him what was in her heart. “I love you.”

  But there was a part of her that wondered when they’d actually get to the root of the matter, when they’d actually have it out.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  * * *

  “Sorry I’m late,” she whispered as she had a seat next to Jared in his Monday meeting. “The demo session ran a few minutes over, and then I hauled ass over here.”

  “It’s good. I know this one is really out of your way, and I appreciate that you come to it.” He put his arm around her neck, pulling her close to him.

  Since the other night at his condo, they’d been spending more time together. In one way, it felt like they were closer than they had been, but in a completely other way, she felt as if there was this rift between them. She hadn’t been able to put her finger on it, and she hadn’t wanted to bring it up with him, because she knew when he asked her what was wrong, she wouldn’t be able to explain herself. Snapping herself out of it, she gave her full attention to the meeting, because she learned a lot at these things too.

  “Today, we have someone who came to me and told me they wanted to speak,” the leader said as he nodded towards a woman Shell recognized as one of the wives.

  She’d seen her at other meetings and had noticed she was always with her husband. He was with her today, and he grasped her hand, nodding towards her. It was powerful, the way they gave each other the strength to do what needed to be done. She watched as the woman took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

  “I normally stay quiet at these things, because honestly, I feel often that this isn’t necessarily my fight. I feel like I’m just a passenger on this ride, but over the weekend, my mother-in-law came to visit, and she said some things that upset me. She told me that I enable him, that I’m his problem.” Tears were apparent in the woman’s eyes. “And I just need to know that there’s another spouse here, woman or man, who knows where I’m coming from. I love this man, he’s my life, and I’ve dedicated so much of my time to try and help him. I struggle with depression now because of the things this disease has put us through, and to hear her say that…” The woman stopped speaking, the tears taking over as she shook her head.

  Shell watched as the other woman’s shoulders shook—giving in to the emotions she was feeling. Shell also listened as not one other person opened their mouth, not one person offered to tell this woman that they got where she was coming from, when she knew that over half the people in the room did. She figured that was because so often, as someone who loved an addict, you had to keep your mouth shut, bite your tongue, and learn to live with it. That’s what so many people told them. Not wanting this woman to feel like she was alone—and knowing that she wasn’t—Shell did something she’d never done in one of these meetings. She spoke up.

  “No, I get it,” Shell said quietly from where
she sat next to Jared, smiling softly at the other woman, offering comradery where many times there wasn’t any.

  He turned, giving her his full attention. She’d never spoken in these meetings—ever, and he wanted to know what she thought more than he wanted to breathe his last breath. Maybe here, in this moment, he could see what the disconnect was between them, because since their last encounter, he’d been feeling it too.

  Shell looked at the woman head-on, not glancing over at Jared. “You love this man who is everything to you, and then you realize you’re second best, you’re never gonna be as important as the drugs he takes.” She stopped for a moment and licked her lips, gathering her thoughts before she continued. “Then you ask yourself, what’s my damage? Why do I keep doing this to myself? Why do I keep letting him and the drug dictate my life? When did I become not good enough? When did his love of that trump his love of me? How do you believe that again? How do you believe they can ever love something as much as they love the feeling that drug gives them?”

  Jared felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach as he heard her continue speaking.

  “Or better yet, was I ever good enough? Then you come to places like this, and you learn you’re an enabler. Fuck if that doesn’t suck too. Because then it becomes your fault. It’s easy for people to lay blame at your feet. They ask, why don’t you love him enough? Why don’t you make things easier? Why do you let him do this to himself?”

  Tears were falling now, and her voice was hoarse as she kept going.

  “But the question I ask myself is why doesn’t he love me enough? What does that drug have that I don’t have? What makes me be second best when I’ve given everything to this person who walks all over me and then pretty much laughs behind my back, and I cry wondering if they’re going to live or not?”

  She swallowed roughly, wiping some of the tears away.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m not a victim here, but this kills me. How can this man who I love more than life, who I’ve given everything to—my love, my body, my trust, my soul, fuck, myself to—not care. How can he not look back and see I was there with him as he lay in a shower puking up drugs so that he wouldn’t die.” She finally looked at him, and the pain in her eyes was enough to bring him to his knees.