Our fans ate it up like they'd never seen two people kissing before. Of course there had been a few not so fond of the Michelle-Shay thing. They were easy to spot—they were the fans in Shay Rogan t-shirts, two sizes too small, and cut off jean shorts that showed more cheek than sorority girls on spring break. They wore buttons and pins and frankly, it was a little scary the way they glared at me as if I had stolen their boyfriend. Shay had dealt with it well, though. A few smiles a wink and a picture with the woman in question and all was well once again.
"You doing OK?" Shay asked, coming up behind me. He massaged my shoulders and despite my irritation at the whole thing, it felt good.
"I'm fine. Just tired."
"You’re pretty introverted when it comes to these things. You really need to get over that." His thumbs dug into the knot of muscles above my shoulder blades. I had to stifle a groan. Where on Earth had he learned to do that? I probably didn’t want to know.
"So now you're giving me career advice?"
"I wouldn't dream of it."
"Good. Because I'm too tired to deal with—oh. Yeah, right there."
Shay put his mouth close to my ear. "If you keep that up, darlin', we're going to have to find another closet." He pressed against me, his scent and the dark promise in his rough velvet voice sending warmth spiraling through my body.
"Stop." Even to my own ears it didn't sound very convincing.
But Shay broke off abruptly and put a few inches of space between us. "Hey, Rayna."
I turned to face Rayna as if Shay hadn't been whispering erotic nothings in my ear. "We were just discussing the signing." I felt like she'd caught us naked.
"Uh-huh." She shook her head. "This is gonna be a piece of cake. You two throw off sparks just standing there. I wish we'd thought of this angle sooner."
Shay grinned in the cocky-sexy way that made me either want to throttle him or put my mouth on him. "Me, too."
We left the record store and got into the car waiting at the curb. Daddy was already inside.
"How'd it go?"
"Fine. I'm just tired. I'm glad we're off tonight. I just want some food and a hot shower." We were staying at The Peabody and I was looking forward to a comfortable bed, a real shower and space to stretch out. Oh, and room service.
"Well, you can go back and get some food, but you and Shay need to work out what number you're doing tomorrow night."
"What?"
"People loved that duet," Rayna said. "Robert and I think you and Shay need to add that to the act, each night doing one of your old songs, but with a new twist. We think that'll pull people in and make them remember why you're a star who had been at the top in Nashville for so long."
I glanced at Shay. "Are you okay with this?" I wasn't certain Daddy and Rayna ever really ran anything by him. And he didn't have anyone at his back helping him make those decisions. It didn't seem to bother him, though. He was a loner type who just took things as they came. Still, it only seemed fair. For all that I wanted to smack the smile off his face most days, he'd been a good sport going along with whatever Rayna wanted to do.
"I'm up for it." He frowned at Daddy. "But if you're too tired tonight, we can work on it tomorrow morning."
His concern surprised me. I'd expected some crack about not being able to keep up. "No, I'm fine," I said. "I just need a little food and I'll be as good as new."
"All right. Your room at around 7 o'clock?"
"OK."
"You’re in the Presidential Suite," Daddy said. He turned to me. "I can come up if you want, sweetie."
It was clear he didn't trust Shay any farther than he could heave his body over the nearest bridge. Even though I was a grown woman and was definitely not a virgin, his concern was a throwback I hadn't felt in a while. I smiled. "No, I'll be all right Daddy. You need a break, too."
"OK. Call me if you need me."
We entered the hotel’s lobby and as always, I was awed by the beauty of the foyer with all the marble, the soaring ceiling and furnishings that spoke of old world elegance. Lansky’s was located there now, too—the store where Elvis bought all of his crazy clothing. And of course the solid travertine marble fountain that was the centerpiece of the whole place. The first time I had seen the Peabody Ducks march in, I was absolutely enthralled. I hadn’t known ducks could be trained. For a month afterward, I wondered what qualifications you needed to apply for the job of Duckmaster. Of course I had been 14 the first time we’d stayed there, so it was kind of like going to the zoo. A five-mallard zoo.
The staff greeted us by name. Daddy handed Shay the key card for his suite and I took mine and got straight on the elevator. I needed to unwind after the past few crazy days and I couldn’t think of anything better than soaking in a hot bath and having a glass of wine.
But once I got inside the room, the bed called louder to me than the tub. I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, wanting nothing more than to close my eyes and grab a power nap. But I had things to do—rehearsal, food, shower. They all seemed too much. And Shay. I needed a night off from him, too. All the sexual tension was exhausting. Always wondering what he was thinking, what he might do next, what my reaction should be.
I closed my eyes, but all I could see was Shay. Sitting next to me, holding my hand, kissing me. Touching me. Those sexy smiles of his all aimed at me. I drifted away. Just five minutes, I thought. Just five minutes and I'd get up and get in the shower.
"Hey, sleeping beauty," Shay said in my ear.
Sheesh. I couldn't even nap without dreaming of him.
"Michelle," he said and touched my arm. "You awake, beautiful girl?"
I blinked slowly, the fog from my head clearing. I opened my eyes to find Shay lying next to me on the bed. He was on his side, his head propped up with is hand and he was smiling down at me.
"What...are you doing here?" My voice was sleep-husky and the room was dark. "How long have I been asleep?"
"It's eight o'clock," he said. "When you didn't answer the door, Rayna let me in with the spare keycard."
"Oh," I said. "Oh. God." I sat straight up. “Sorry. I guess I fell asleep.” I stretched and let out a huge yawn." Cobwebs still stuck in my brain. I felt like I'd slept for a hundred years and yet hadn't slept at all.
"I knew you were too tired to rehearse tonight." He frowned a little. "Sometimes I think they push you too hard."
"I'm fine." I scooted to the edge of the bed. He was too close, this was too intimate. And he was being entirely too nice. "I just need to hop in the shower," I said. "Then I'll be ready to go. Give me ten minutes."
"Take your time," Shay rolled to his back. "I'll just lie here and enjoy the fact that I'm in your bed."
"Alone," I unzipped my bag and pulled out my bag of toiletries.
"You'll be back."
"To work," I said. "That's all."
"Ah well, a man can dream. I'll be thinking about you all wet and naked in the shower, though." There was a twinkle in his blue eyes and I had to admit I kind of liked the gentle teasing. It wasn't as heavy and erotically laced as his normal taunting words. This was Shay-light. And I liked it a little too much.
"And steamy, slick with lavender-scented soap," I added, then shut the bathroom door with a smile on my face, too. Maybe we really could get along.
*****
Shay lay on Michelle's king-sized bed until the shower turned on. She was exhausted. The dark circles and dull look in her eyes said that loud and clear. They both had the same tour schedule, but she put so much stress on herself it was wearing her down. Couldn't Gordon see that? If he was so concerned for his daughter and her career, it should be a no-brainer. It was a wonder she hadn't burned out long before now and it was obvious why she didn't enjoy being on stage anymore. If Michelle was his responsibility, he'd make sure she got enough to eat, got enough rest and maybe even had some time for fun once in a while.
It really wasn't his job. Michelle was a big girl and could tell her father to piss off if she wanted to. But
something deep inside him had broken open at the sight of her curled up on the bed and sound asleep as if she was five years old. Somewhere deep inside, he thought she probably was.
Well, tonight he was taking responsibility whether she liked it or not. The rehearsal could wait. It was probably going to be better with less practice, anyway. The spontaneity was what made it work. Maybe they shouldn’t mess with success.
The first thing Michelle needed was food. Shay picked up the phone and since he wasn't sure what she liked he ordered a little bit of everything—steak, chicken, a turkey burger, pasta— and then added a bottle of white wine, beer and a selection of desserts, too, promising the kitchen a hefty tip if they got it there in 20 minutes.
While he waited for the food, Shay lowered the lights, turned the TV to a music channel playing easy listening music and pulled back the curtains. The hotel didn’t have balcony rooms, but he opened a large window in the dining area to the night breeze and breathed deeply. He didn't know about Michelle, but when he was trapped indoors too long, especially in the city or on a tour bus, he really missed the simple pleasure of wind on his face and sunlight on his skin. Being outdoors always eased whatever was bothering him.
Shay stood at the window, looking at the lights, hoping Michelle liked what he was trying to do for her. He hoped she wasn't going to take it as just another come-on, although he couldn't blame her if she did. He'd come on pretty strong from the beginning, throwing her desire for him back in her face. He supposed he had been trying to get even in some way this whole tour. Even though he need ed this to work for his own career, it had also been a chance for him to prove that he wasn't some piece of white trash that Michelle and her father could throw away when they were done with him. And so he'd purposely been in her face, playing on the attraction she had for him—pushing her, making her admit it, forcing her to give in to it.
Maybe it was time to let all that go. Working with her for the last few weeks during rehearsals and on the road made him realize there was more to her than a Nashville princess. She worked hard, she took a lot of responsibility—not just for her performance—but for everyone who worked for her. She'd been performing since she was a kid. While he was playing baseball and going to high school dances, drinking beer with his buddies, and parking out on Lover’s Lane, Michelle was working, worrying and trying to support a whole group of people who depended on her for their livelihoods.
Maybe her life hadn't been all glitz and glitter and getting whatever she wanted. Michelle was successful but she’d worked hard to get there and had given up things he’d taken for granted.
Maybe it was time to knock this chip he'd carried on his shoulder off. Time to accept Michelle for what she was and who she was. Start over.
The knock at the door startled Shay and he went to let room service in the suite with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step.
*****
The warm water was pure heaven and by the time I'd turned off the taps, the bathroom was filled with lavender-scented steam. I felt more relaxed than I had in weeks and the only thing that would have made it more perfect was if I could just crawl under the covers and get a good seven or eight hours of sleep. But that's not how my life worked. Five hours was good, six was a luxury. Then it would be a workout in the hotel gym, hair and nails, a meeting with Daddy and Rayna, whatever appearances and promo they had scheduled, and then on the bus to head for the next stop.
Some of the tension crept back into my neck and shoulders as I slathered moisturizer on my face and wrapped my hair in a towel. Realizing I'd forgotten the yoga pants and cami I usually slept in on the bed, I slipped on the hotel's big fluffy bathrobe and opened the door.
The aroma of good food hit me right away, making my stomach growl. When had I eaten last?
I walked into the dining area of my suite. The table was completely filled with plates and trays of food. Shay sat at the table waiting for me.
"What's all this?" The scent drew me closer and my stomach growled. "I was just going to order a salad."
"Yeah, that's why I thought I'd do the ordering," Shay said, grinning at me. His gaze travelled down my robe-clad body but for once he didn't make a crack or some sort of sexual innuendo. "You need some real food to keep your energy up."
"What about rehearsal?"
"Sit down," Shay said, moving around the table to pull out my chair for me. "Eat first. Real food, not rabbit food."
"Wow. Full service."
"Absolutely." He went to his seat across from me and started pulling the lids off things. "Steak? Chicken? What sounds good?"
"Steak," I said. "And a baked potato. If I’m going off my nutritionist’s food list, I'm going big."
"That's my girl." Shay forked a huge steak on my plate as well as a baked potato smothered in golden butter and sour cream.
Then he put the same on his plate. "Save room for dessert."
"Tell me you got something with chocolate."
"Chocolat a’la Bavaroise from that fancy restaurant downstairs.”
I smiled at him. He’d butchered the pronunciation of the name, but I’d been to the Peabody enough to know that he was referring to my favorite dessert from Chez Philippe, a sort of triple chocolate and hazelnut streusel...also known as plus five pounds on the bathroom scale.
Something seemed different about Shay and it wasn’t just his going out of the way to be nice to me. Gone was the animosity that usually lurked just under the surface, even when he was kissing me, touching me, or making me come apart in his arms.
"Thanks for this, Shay. It's nice."
He shrugged. "I charged it to Gordon’s room."
I did laugh then. Daddy didn't like him and Shay knew it, but he didn't let that get to him. Daddy didn’t intimidate Shay like he did most of the people in the business. Daddy was a stage dad to the max and had always fought fiercely for whatever he’d felt I was due.
I cut into the steak and forked a piece of perfectly grilled beef into my mouth. "Oh my God," I said. "This is heaven."
Shay nodded. "It's not bad." He helped himself to a baked potato and reached inside the champagne bucket to pull out a Rolling Rock. "Want one?"
"Sure," I said. "It's been forever since I had a beer.” I looked at the label. “Got any Lite?”
Shay rolled his eyes. "Please tell me you're not one of those women who thinks she’s fat. You can’t weigh more than about 120 covered in Jello.”
"I've been on a diet since my first publicity stills. I sort of have a love-hate relationship with food, I guess." I eyed the bowl of pasta salad, one of my favorites. “I love it, my wardrobe lady hates it.”
"Here," Shay said, scooping a huge portion onto my plate. "Tonight, no diet. Just eat, drink and be merry. You can hit the treadmill tomorrow."
He smiled at me and something inside melted a little bit. "You know, when you're not being an annoying asshole, you can actually be a good guy."
"That's what all the ladies say." He locked gazes with me for a long moment as if he was searching for something. Then he seemed to shake it off, smiled and went back to his dinner.
Chapter Ten
The crowd at Chicago’s Riviera Theatre loved the duet. And Shay loved the way Michelle's face glowed under the stage lights. They never had gotten around to rehearsing after dinner the previous evening and they'd been busy with promotional stuff for the tour since they’d set foot in the Windy City, so they'd had to wing it on stage. Michelle had been nervous, but she was starting to trust Shay. That was a new one for him—someone trusting him.
She had needed the break more than she needed the rehearsal time, he’d told her, and she hadn't put up much of an argument. They'd eaten dinner then taken dessert to the small sitting area and turned on CMT. They'd talked about their favorite singers, stories from the road and she'd asked a little bit about Shay's early years, but they hadn't really talked business. If Shay hadn't known better, it would've seemed almost like a real date, only one where the clothes stayed on.
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Not that Shay didn't want Michelle every time he looked at her—that was a given. But he'd found that the more they'd talked, the more he wanted to talk and that was something totally new for him, too. It was like once he'd dropped all his perceptions about her, he got to see the real person behind the stage make-up and gold records. He got to see Michelle. And he liked what he saw.
The song they'd chosen tonight was a love song and leant itself well to both their voices. It was a song about two people falling in love against all odds and their parents' objections. Kind of like a redneck Romeo and Juliet story only nobody died and they danced at their wedding barefoot while eating barbecue.
With Shay's harder edged guitar and Michelle's classic Nashville sound, the song had been a throwback to the original hit, but also something completely new. The crowd loved it and Michelle seemed so much more relaxed than she had in previous tour stops. She looked like she was having fun during their duet.
"Everybody give Michelle a hand," Shay shouted into the mic once the song's final chords echoed through the space.
"Thanks, y'all," Michelle said, waving to the crowd. "Thanks for coming out!"
She started to leave, but Shay caught her arm and pulled her in for a kiss, which was what the crowd was really angling for.
This time Michelle went against his body without a fight, her arms going around his neck. It wasn't as passionate a kiss as the first time, but the fire burned deeper and hotter, like white hot coals, rather than live flame. He kept it short, knowing Michelle wasn't a huge fan of PDA and then thanked her again over the mic before she waved to the crowd and trotted off stage.
She stopped in the wings and gave him a smile and a wink hot enough keep him hard for a week. He played the rest of the set with a smile on his face and a semi-boner in his pants.
After Shay showered, he dressed in a tux Rayna had insisted he wear. Apparently this was some kind of frou-frou party a guy with too much money was throwing. He felt uncomfortable, like his bow tie was strangling him. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a bow tie, or any tie at all. He was strictly a Wrangler’s and Stetson kind of guy. Dressing like this made him feel like he was trying to fool folks into believing he was something he wasn’t.
Nashville Boxed Set #1-3 Page 40
