Nick Of Time (Blue Ridge Romance 2)

by Allison B Hanson

  Her red hair looked wild spread across her pillow in the moonlight, and he thought of his fingers in it when she’d been on her knees in front of him earlier that evening. In the next second he was thinking of how she was able to help him write a song, and how she’d encouraged him to try to put the song out himself.

  There wasn’t anything lacking in her.

  He realized the only thing lacking was in him. He didn’t know how to go about being a guy who could give a girl like Nichole everything she needed, but he knew he was committed on some level.

  He only wanted her. He had no plans to run away or to be with anyone else. She had everything he wanted and then some. He thought about the dream, before he pulled back the veil. Up until that point he was calm and . . . happy. He didn’t feel trapped or scared.

  He brushed her cheek with his fingertips while she slept next to him.

  He was happy with her. If he could just figure out how to fall in love, he might be able to be happy for the rest of his life.

  Unfortunately, singing about something and living it were two very different things. He often wondered if people who were actually in love picked up on the deception in his songs.

  If the words he sang were real feelings, it might be enough.

  He woke in the morning to the sound of the phone ringing. He looked next to him, but Nichole was already up.

  His agent’s name peered at him from the display on his phone.

  He hadn’t heard from him in some time, so he was almost afraid to answer. He’d decided to take Nichole’s advice and try to put the song out himself.

  “Hey, Mitch.”

  “Hey, Tuck. How are you doing?” That was Mitch’s way of asking if he was still sober.

  “I’m good. Real good.” That was Tucker’s way of assuring him that he was.

  “Excellent. I got a call on that song you recorded.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Pearthorn Records wants it. And they want you to do it, alone. No Wilted Lilies. They’ll get you another band.”

  “Seriously?” His heart was beating a million beats a minute at this news. He remembered getting the call years ago that he was being offered a recording contract, and it had been nothing like the excitement he felt now. He didn’t know how to be this excited back then.

  “They love it. They think it’s going to be a big hit. They’re looking at giving it lots of play on TV and at sporting events. This could be your ticket back to the stage.”

  “Wow. Okay. What’s next?”

  “You need to come back home. Sign the contract, and then we’ll set up some dates. I’m working on getting the rights to some of your old stuff, in case they want to put you on tour, but if you’ve got anything else going on in your head, you might want to get it out.”

  “Actually, I do have a few other things I’m working on.”

  “I’ll schedule a studio so we can get them laid down.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Mitch.”

  “Stay clean, all right?”

  “Yeah. Absolutely. No problem. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “See you then.”

  “Wow,” Tucker said again, after he’d disconnected the call.

  “Good news?” Nic asked as she walked into the bedroom in nothing but a towel.

  “Yeah. I took your advice, and asked my agent to try to sell the song with me singing it. I was offered a deal.”

  “That’s awesome!”

  “I have to go back to New York.”

  “Right. Of course.” She seemed really excited for him, but he saw a flash of something in her eyes. Uncertainty.

  “Will you come with me?” The words were out before he thought them through.

  “What?”

  “You said you would spend a weekend with me there anyway. Let’s go this weekend. I’m going to be in the recording studio, and I have some meetings, but I could show you my place and the city. What do you think?”

  “For the weekend?”

  “Yeah. I might have to stay up there, but I’ll be back at some point. They’re hinting about a tour already. You’ll come see me if I go on tour, right?”

  “Sure.” She nodded.

  “Great. I’ll get us a flight for Friday when you get home.” He started messing with his phone while she got dressed.

  Home.

  It was strange how it had already begun to feel like home, and his actual home in New York was just his place. The difference was Nichole.

  At the idea of having to leave her while he went on tour, he noticed some of the excitement faded.

  Chapter 11

  They were packed and would be leaving early the next morning for the airport. She was looking forward to seeing Tucker’s place and being on his turf. Part of his other life.

  “Mitch just sent me the contracts. You can look them over on the plane and sign them before we land. He’s going to have someone waiting to pick them up.”

  She looked at him, not understanding.

  “Why would I need to look them over?” she asked.

  “You’re always supposed to read something before you sign it. Didn’t Cooper tell you that a million times, like he’s told me?” Tucker rolled his eyes as he held out the documents.

  She took them and glanced down, seeing her name listed as co-songwriter.

  “No way!” She pushed them back to him. “I came up with some words. I’m not a songwriter. I was just helping.”

  He pushed them back at her.

  “That’s exactly what a co-songwriter does, Nic. Help come up with words.”

  “Still, I’m not a professional. I shouldn’t be signing contracts or . . . getting royalties.” Her eyes widened as she noticed that part of the document.

  “Why not? If it hadn’t been for your contributions, this song wouldn’t be what it is. It might be completely different.”

  “I’m not signing this.” She decided to just cut to the chase.

  She handed it back to him, but he refused to take it.

  “You have to sign it. If you don’t, I won’t be able to release the song.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “No. What’s ridiculous is why you don’t want to be a part of the song we created together.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  He took a step back, looking at her as if it was the first time he’d ever seen her. She realized she’d hurt him.

  “Writing music that makes people feel something tends to be a bit dramatic.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m not releasing this song unless your name is on it and you get proper credit for your efforts.”

  “I’m not assuming any credit for something you did. I don’t want my name on it.”

  “I see.” He nodded slowly and backed away. His single bag was already waiting by the door, so it was an easy thing for him to pick it up and open the door. “Then I guess there’s really no reason for you to come to New York with me, because I won’t be recording after all.”

  “Tucker, wait,” she said, but he was already outside. He spun back to face her.

  “This is my job, Nic. I know for you it was just a few words to pass the time. But what you did was real, and I can’t take full credit for it. It wouldn’t be right. I’d know it wasn’t mine.”

  “Where are you going?” She followed him as he threw his bag in the car.

  “Home. I need to come up with my own song to sell them because I can’t use ours.”

  At his use of the word home she stopped. Up until now, he’d been calling the town house home. Now home was in New York. Without her. He was leaving.

  She didn’t understand why he was so upset, but there was no mistaking he was.

  He didn’t even say good-bye as he got in the driver’s seat and pulled out.

  With a sigh, she walked back inside and closed the door.

  “What the hell?”

  She glanced down at the innocent-looking papers in her hand. How could somethin
g so stupid ruin what she had with Tucker?

  Sitting at the table, she spread them out to read every single word, looking for some hidden meaning. And then she saw it.

  “Written by Tucker Matthews and Nichole Atherton.” Their names would forever be side by side on this album. Long after their relationship might end, their names would be linked together.

  Did he think she didn’t want that? Did he think she was rejecting him?

  Hadn’t she?

  She tossed and turned all night, guilt mixed with the uncomfortable emptiness of the bed she’d shared with Tucker.

  Where was their relationship—if she could even call it that—going? Wouldn’t it be better just to get it over with? At least now it was done. She wouldn’t have to worry about when the ax would fall.

  With that small comfort, she managed to fall into a restless sleep, but when she woke up she was no better. Her reasoning was sound, but something didn’t feel right.

  She was happy to go back to work on Monday, desperate for some relief from her thoughts. But she was distracted and agitated all week. She hadn’t heard a word from Tucker, and she hadn’t reached out to him either.

  “Are you okay?” Collin, one of the other doctors at the clinic, asked as he stopped in her office on Thursday afternoon.

  “Sure. Why do you ask?” She plastered a smile on her face.

  “Well, for one thing, there’s that smile. It looks as if it’s going to fall into pieces at any moment. For another, every time I’ve walked past your office, I’ve seen you in here staring out the window.”

  She let out a sigh and gave up on the fake smile.

  “Tucker went back to New York.”

  “And you wanted him to stay,” he guessed.

  “No. I knew he needed to leave. It’s fine.”

  Collin’s brows pulled together. He closed her door and came to sit in the chair across from her.

  “Did you tell him you were fine with him leaving?”

  “I didn’t get the chance. He wanted me to sign some stupid contract that said I was entitled to half the credit for one of his songs. I refused and he just left.” She waved her hand to indicate how ridiculous it was.

  Collin rubbed his forehead.

  “That was quite an honor, Nic.”

  An honor.

  She frowned at her stupidity.

  “I brushed it off like it wasn’t a big deal.”

  Collin winced. “I’m guessing it’s a big deal to him.”

  She took a deep breath and nodded.

  “I might not be in tomorrow,” she told him.

  “I don’t think you’ve really been here all week.” He stood and smiled. “Good luck.”

  When she got home she pulled out the contract and read over it once more, giving it the seriousness it deserved. It was an honor. He was asking her to be part of his life. Maybe not in the way she’d expected, but in a way that was important to him. She saw that now.

  Tucker had said it was real, and she had pushed it away because she was afraid.

  The next morning, she dressed and jumped in a cab to go to the airport.

  She finally relaxed when she was in the air, heading to New York. This was the right thing. Whatever happened afterward didn’t matter. She had to do this.

  She tapped the papers nervously against her thigh as she looked up at his building. She caught the door when someone was leaving and took the elevator up to his loft.

  When he opened the door, her heart was pounding.

  “Here.” She slapped the papers against his chest and sighed. “I’m buying a Corvette with my share of the royalties.”

  He bit his lip before a smile broke out across his beautiful face.

  “Thank you,” he whispered before he kissed her hard and pulled her inside.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  She’d been to New York the year before with Dennis. But Tucker knew local, non-touristy places. He spent most of Saturday dragging her around the city to see some of his favorite bands and small music venues. He introduced her to Carmine, his sponsor.

  Her favorite place, though, was his loft. It was clean and simple and had a huge bed and floor-to-ceiling windows. She could lie naked in his arms and look out over the city.

  “This is nice,” she whispered.

  “I don’t remember this bed being so warm and soft before,” he said after rolling on top of her. She didn’t for one minute pretend she was the first woman in Tucker’s bed, but it was a nice line regardless.

  On Sunday morning he kissed her and got up to take a shower. “I need to go into the studio to sign some papers and put two tracks down. I made a list of places you might want to see. And here’s the number for a car service that can drive you wherever you want to go.”

  “Can’t I go with you to the studio?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t going too far.

  “You want to come to the studio?” His brow creased. “It’s just a lot of me singing the same thing over and over again.”

  “I’d like to be there so when I hear the song on the radio, I’ll know I saw it happening.”

  He bent and kissed her.

  “I would love for you to be there.” He bit his bottom lip in an attempt to keep his smile contained, but it didn’t work. “But if you get bored, you can leave. I would understand. It’s not as much fun as it sounds.”

  He was right. Watching someone record a song is tedious and boring, but Nichole smiled when he looked over at her and gave him encouraging thumbs-up. He had a short meeting with someone while she waited in the lobby. Finally, it was over, and they were able to spend the rest of the afternoon eating takeout in his bed.

  “So, I need to stay here for some other meetings before I meet up with the tour. I’m opening for Zombie Ferrymen.”

  “Wow.” She’d heard of them. They weren’t her favorite, but they weren’t bad. “That’s great!”

  She did a good job hiding her anxiety. She understood he needed to stay, but she needed to leave soon so she could catch her late flight.

  “I’ll take you to the airport,” he said.

  “No. It’s fine. I can get there on my own.”

  “Still, it will give us a little bit more time together,” he pointed out. She gave in with a smile.

  Something twisted in him as he kissed Nichole good-bye.

  “This isn’t over,” he said as he pulled her close one more time.

  “No promises, remember? Just enjoy your tour, and if you happen to swing by Roanoke when it’s over, I might just be happy to see you.” She smiled at him like it was that easy, but he saw something in her eyes that said the opposite. She was being strong for him. He didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

  He kissed her once more and watched her walk away. He wanted a drink.

  He would have called Carmine to talk it out, but he’d misplaced his phone at some point.

  He had the cab drop him off at Carmine’s house instead. As bad as he felt, he might need Carmine to sit on him to keep him out of a bar.

  “Where’s your girl?” he asked.

  “I just dropped her off at the airport. I’m feeling kind of . . . uneasy.” Uneasy wasn’t the word, but Carmine understood. Tucker was in a bad place.

  “Come in. Let’s talk it out.” He held the door open so Tucker could come inside his tiny apartment. He lived alone, but his sister lived in the next building, so he spent a lot of time with his nieces and nephews. “So talk. What’s the problem?”

  “There’s no problem really. I got a contract for a tour. It’s not big, but it’s something. I wanted this. I wanted to prove to myself I could do it without the booze and the pain meds.”

  “So what’s wrong?”

  “Seeing Nic walk away from me . . . I don’t know.” He shrugged, feeling stupid.

  “It hurts?” Carmine asked, studying his face.

  “Yeah. Real bad.”

  “Shit, boy!” Carmine said with a wide smile, showing his gold tooth. “You went and got
yourself in love.”

  “No I didn’t.”

  “The hell you didn’t.”

  “No. You’re crazy.” Tucker shook his head quickly. “I don’t do that.”

  “You do now.” There was no convincing Carmine that he wasn’t in love, so Tucker just rolled his eyes and let the guy laugh.

  “So, how do I handle this?” he asked when Carmine was done. He still didn’t agree with his assessment, but it didn’t matter if he could help.

  “You’re happy with this girl?”

  “Yes.” Very.

  “You’re happy with this deal?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you start drinking again, you’ll end up losing both. It comes down to that.” Carmine made it pretty clear.

  “Okay.”

  “This isn’t your first dance. You know what to expect out on the road. You know how to avoid the pitfalls that sucked you in the last time. You know yourself. You know your triggers and how to avoid them. You need to trust yourself.”

  “All right.” Tucker wasn’t big on trusting himself, but he nodded.

  “And don’t fuck it up.” Carmine chuckled, and Tucker shook his head. “If that girl is meant for you, she’ll be there. If she ain’t, it’s her loss.”

  “You’re such a romantic,” Tucker teased as he stood up to leave. He felt stronger. Carmine believed in him. Nichole believed in him. He just needed to believe in himself.

  “I don’t have a bus?” Tucker asked Mitch as he arrived at his first show.

  “You only have a few shows. You don’t need to deal with the expense of a bus. I’m booking you nice hotels for now. You’ll survive.”

  “Okay.” He kind of felt like a loser without a tour bus, but Mitch was right. He was an opening act with only a few shows. He didn’t need a bus.

  During rehearsal, he started to feel the excitement he’d missed since his last show over a year and a half ago.

  When it was time for him to go on, he could hardly wait to get out on the stage. It wasn’t a jam-packed auditorium, but it was a good showing. There were a few people wearing Wilted Lilies tour shirts who sang along with his older stuff.