by Davida Lynn
“I don’t say this lightly. In fact, I can’t remember a time when I’ve enjoyed coming in the studio this much.” The Brit had a wide smile on his face and his arm around Colton. The control room was crowded between members of Gracie’s touring band and The Guilty Party. “This is going to be an absolute stunner.”
Over those two weeks, musicians have come and gone as the album came together. It had turned into a labor of love between Colton, Gracie, and Jonathan Tillman. As he kept repeating, “This is the sound that country has been waiting for.”
Gracie brought seven new songs in with her, mostly about heartache tinged with a fire that her previous songs have been missing. Colton’s tunes delved deeper into himself than ever before. Before Gracie, Colton could write about country girls in tight jeans or bar fights that ended in drunk tank overnights. For the first time in his career, though, he was looking at what it meant to be a man.
Just a few days into their studio time, Tillman had become one of them. His British accent might as well have been Appalachian. After twelve hours in the studio, he would send them home with albums. For Colton, Bruce Springsteen’s Tunnel of Love. For Gracie, Loretta Lynn’s Greatest Hits. He was softening Colton while hardening Gracie at the same time. “Let’s show the world just how strong the two of you can be when you switch roles.”
One musician had been absent for the entire studio run. Kitt Wade hadn’t spoken to his brother, Roger, or anyone in the band since the bar fight. Colton knew that both brothers would need a few days to cool off, but when Kitt never showed, he began to worry. His older brother had fallen off the wagon before over lesser things.
Colton knew he should be out there looking for Kitt, but something big stopped him. He thought at first that it was pride. There was magic happening in the studio, and Colton firmly believed that artistic magic could disappear without warning at any moment. It was selfish to stay in the studio while Kitt was on his own, but Colton was so close to knowing the power and money that came with a hit record. Besides, that’s what he had Roger for.
Before Kathleen, Roger would’ve scoured every inch of the country looking for Kitt. He would have moved heaven and earth because he knew how important Kitt was to his younger brother. Colton may have been the star, but Kitt was the keystone that held everything together. One hell of a lead guitar player, Colton’s older brother could channel any of the greats. He was Scotty Moore, James Burton, Vince Gill, and a hundred other players when he wanted to be. He never wanted to be in the spotlight, but Colton often shoved him to the front of the stage during extended jams. Kitt was Roger’s other son, but that was before Kathleen.
Ever since the kiss, Roger’s focus began to blur. He had lived his life for the music business for so long that he forgot what it meant to really live. Kathleen was just about the same, and it was so easy for each of them to see it. They had both been pushing with everything they had. The results were massive, staring them in the face, but the consequences were just as big.
Roger had celebrated his forty-fifth birthday on the road, spent with musicians mostly half his age. He drank too much, smoked too much, and exercised too little. He hadn’t been to the doctor in four years, and the dentist in almost twice as long. The highs had been enough to keep him happy, but when the woes came, they came hard. His modest house outside of Bowling Green was paid for, but he couldn’t even remember what color he had painted the bedroom. The neighborhood boy that had kept up the lawn while he was away wasn’t a boy anymore. He was starting his freshman year of college.
The time passed far too quickly as all well-spent time does. Twenty-three songs have been recorded over two weeks. Once again, Jonathan raised his hands to God and promised that any overdubs he would add be minimal. “I hear a string section on one or two of these, but that’s it. And, Kate, I’ll send them to you before I start mastering anything. Do we have a deal, love?”
As a true sign that Kathleen was warming up and climbing from behind her tall wall of defenses, she allowed the Brit to call her by a nickname that only her ex had used. She beamed. “You got a deal.”
Jonathan looked to Colton’s manager, his voice lowering and the cheer running like watercolors in the rain. “Roger, I can hold off for a week, but at some point or another, I’ll be needing that lead guitar work.”
He nodded, the smile falling from his face. Two weeks, and not a word from Kitt. Colton’s older brother was the elephant in the room. Everyone was concerned, but no one wanted to bring him up. There was a vibe as fragile as the first layer of ice on a winter lake, and not one single member of the session was going to be responsible for killing the magic.
Kevin knew Kitt better than anyone besides Colton, but even that was up for debate. Kitt and Kevin just clicked from the moment that the two met. Even more than their instant friendship, the two had a way of playing that was absolutely magnetic. Kevin’s steel guitar playing sang, and Kitt’s lead guitar screamed, but the two together made buttery smooth harmonies. The two players could read each other better than old jazz compatriots. Offstage, Kevin and Kitt listened to the classics and talked about everything from history to car restoration.
He knew that Kitt was strong, but Kevin knew that drugs, heroin especially, could beat even the strongest of men. Nobody asked Colton about his scrapes and bruises when recording started. It wasn’t that out of character for him to have a few bar brawl trophies, but when Kitt never showed, Kevin got the idea that the brothers had it out. Kevin had two brothers of his own, so he knew how easy it was for siblings to snap on each other. Kevin and his brothers always managed to make up, but there wasn’t the pressure of drug abuse or rock stardom hanging over the McCallister clan.
Of course Kitt hadn’t answered his phone or respond to any of Kevin’s texts. If he didn’t need the money so badly, Kevin would have been out looking for Kitt himself. Part of him resented Colton for not shutting things down, but Colton was at the mercy of the record company. They all were. Kevin could only hope that Kitt hadn’t fallen, and if he did, he prayed that Kitt would land on his feet.
“Tell me it’s not been two weeks already. Colton, I've never felt anything like this. I don't just mean the recording, either.” Gracie and Colton walked through the brush behind the studio. It was just far enough away from the world that Gracie and Colton could feel like private people for a short time. And almost chilly wind meandered between the trees, and the scent of fresh earth rose from beneath them.
He couldn't contain a laugh. “I know you don't just mean just the recording. Although, god damn, once this thing drops, I might finally be able to afford a place on my own.”
Gracie stopped. She turned Colton towards her. “Honey, when this album goes live, you are going to have way more than money. This record is going to make you a superstar.” She beamed, her bright eyes sparkling in front of her lover.
“I must admit,” Colton raised his eyebrows, “I did like the taste of superstardom.”
“This is going to be much, much more than a taste, Colton. This is the real deal.”
Gracie liked the fame and she liked the money, but it got old quickly. If it were up to her, she'd record one album and year and tour for just a month. At nineteen years old, Gracie's head was filled with dreams and ambitions, and her talent had given her the ability to do those things. Time was the only commodity Gracie lacked.
The smile on her face must have been too inviting. With a hand at the small of her back, Colton pulled her to him. She raised up on her toes to meet his lips. Even Gracie's supermodel legs couldn't compete with Colton’s height.
He made her feel so petite, and it was a feeling she could have drowned in. Ever since her growth spurt, Gracie had always felt awkward for being taller than most people around her. Colton was more than six and a half feet tall, and for once, Gracie had to look up at someone's face. She had to raise herself up to kiss him, a beautiful, feminine experience.
She let out a soft moan as Colton’s tongue traced her lips. Unlike Shepard,
Colton loved making out with Gracie. Even though the two of them had had sex, he still loved a hot make out session from time to time. Colton would savor every inch of Gracie’s mouth, nibbling at her lips and dancing over her tongue with his. The feeling of his three day scruff made her giggle, and the sensation of his big hands grabbing her ass made her knees weak.
Colton wasn’t the type to waste a good opportunity, and Gracie felt his hands slid up, bringing the fabric of her skirt up along with them. A surprised and delighted look appeared on Colton’s face. He pulled back. “Good Lord, Ms. Gracie Hart. I do believe you forgot to put panties on this morning.”
She had been waiting all day for him to notice. “Oh, I didn’t forget a thing.”
His eyes went wider, and Gracie almost burst out laughing. She loved the power of still being able to surprise Colton from time to time. He was far more experienced than her, but feminine wiles could count for a great deal. Colton glanced around once more to make sure they were alone, and when he was satisfied, he lifted the dress higher.
Gracie reached down with one hand and undid Colton’s belt buckle. It had become a fun little game for her to navigate the puzzle that was his belt and jeans. She loved undoing it with a simple flick of her fingers. The game was always fun when the prize was a stiff, thick cock inside Colton’s jeans. She slid her hand inside, finding his throbbing member ready and waiting for her.
As always, their time was short. Gracie sank down to her knees as she dragged Colton’s jeans down. With his throbbing cock exposed, Gracie wasted no time in wrapping her fingers around his shaft. Kissing the head, Gracie worked her way down to the base. She had grown to love the warmth on her lips, just as she had come to crave the feeling of Colton’s skilled tongue between her legs. The thought made Gracie shiver as she worked her way back up to the swollen tip.
Looking up at him with her big eyes, Gracie slid Colton inside of her watering mouth. The grunts that she desperately wanted to hear came. Colton’s raspy, deep voice moaned into the desolate forest as Gracie ran her tongue over his sensitive skin. Colton’s fingers found their way deep into Gracie’s hair. His fingertips sent waves of pleasure shooting through Gracie’s body.
“God damn, you are good at that.”
Gracie slid Colton’s cock out of her mouth and coyly grinned up at him. As she stroked his wet shaft, she gave him a pouty look. “Oh, just good?”
As she moved her hand up and down, she could see Colton’s body twitching. She stroked harder, loving the sight of his body beyond his control.
A twisted look of pain and pleasure appeared on Colton’s face. He started out a response, “Very good. The best. God damn, you are the best.”
She giggled. “That’s more like it.” Gracie opened and took him back inside, deeper this time. Colton responded with an even more primal groan. His eyes went wide as he looked up at the crowns of the trees around them. He couldn’t get enough of this girl.
As much as he would have loved to get polished off by that talented little mouth, Colton needed more in that moment. He unbuttoned his red flannel shirt and wrapped it around Gracie’s shoulders.
She gave him a confused look, her fingers still wrapped around his cock. “What’s that for?”
Colton began to push Gracie backwards. “Oh, just something to keep you from getting scraped up.” His husky voice was muffled as he kissed Gracie’s neck. His tongue traced down to her nape, dipping lower and lower. Her soft, feminine moans were the fuel that made his engine race.
Colton lead her back until she pressed against the trunk of a large tree. Colton’s body pressed against hers, the solitude of nature around them, and more music than the two of them could handle. His hand traced up Gracie’s smooth thigh, finding a wet slit between her legs. Her head fell back against the tree at his touch. Colton traced up Gracie’s slit, stopping briefly to press and tease at her clit.
The young singer opened her eyes as Colton teased her. She watched as he raised his wet finger up to his lips. Colton oozed confidence when it came to sex. He was so visceral and committed to her pleasure, and he knew that Gracie never felt nervous with him. After that first time, they fell into a beautiful rhythm that proved to her the heights of ecstasy.
Colton leaned forward until he was staring down directly over her. He looked into her baby blues for a few seconds. There were flecks of colors almost like green. Colton could stare into those eyes forever and never lose that spark that made his heart beat so hard.
“Are we going to make love, or is this a staring contest?” Gracie put her arms around Colton’s neck and pulled him down.
As the two kissed, Colton had to laugh. Sometimes Colton wondered how he could resist. Gracie Hart, sweeter than a C chord. Gracie was a fast learner, and she had one hell of an appetite. Nothing a bad-ass rockstar like Colton Wade couldn’t handle, that was for damn sure. As the two explore each other’s mouths, Colton slid inside of Gracie, pressing her body hard against the tree. Ain’t this livin’?
Hollywood was different than Kitt thought it would be. The farthest west he'd ever been before was the Badlands. He'd been there fifteen years earlier with an old girlfriend in an old car. Both had since rusted out of his life.
It felt good to get away from his brother and the never-ending shows, and it wasn’t just because of the fight. Kitt was never a fan of the spotlight, and after two solid years on tour, and an itch was beginning to rise beneath his skin. It was the kind of itch you didn't want to have in the land of fake tits and easy drugs. Kitt didn't feel like he had any choice, though. After what his brother had done, it was left with no other options.
Colton and Kitt learned to be brothers. They weren't made that way. Both had their flaws that stood in the way of a simple relationship. Kitt had to earn back his brother’s trust, especially being such a crucial member of Colton band. While Kitt took things one day at a time, Colton had a tendency to be even more near-sighted.
With a wit and temper that were equally quick, Colton often said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Kitt had gotten used to it for the most part, but every now and then, Colton sprayed the verbal equivalent of lemon juice and found an open wound that Kitt didn't even know he had.
As Kitt stared out the bus window at Hollyweird, his mind traveled to the last straw. Gracie was that straw. She was more than just a hot piece of ass in a summer dress to Colton. He saw it every time he looked into his brother’s eyes. It was turning Colton Wade into a whole new person.
Without knowing it, Kitt’s hand came up to his nose. He sucked in a breath at the stinging pain. He ran a light touch over the split in his bridge. Probably coulda used a stitch or two, he mused. Colton was always a hothead, but never over a woman. Over a piece of ass, sometimes, but not anything more than one night of fun. Gracie, on the other hand, had been messing with Colton’s mind from the moment she walked into Muscle Shoals. Kitt sighed and rested his head against the window pane.
His phone vibrated, and at first, he was going to ignore it. Probably Roger or Colton again. If he had a dollar for every call he’d ignored from those two, Kitt would’ve bought a car for the return trip. It was shitty to miss the recording session, and he knew it, but he had to take care of something. Something big.
Kitt sighed and reached for it, anyway. For a change, it wasn’t Roger or Kitt’s brother. The contact Mattias appeared on screen, and Kitt answered the call. “Matty. How you been, brother?”
He smiled and nodded as the two caught up. “That’s great. Listen, I’m actually in your neck of the woods. I know it’s been a few years, but I’d love a couch to crash on for a night.”
Kitt squinted out the window, thinking he had spotted the Hollywood sign. Palm trees kept obscuring his view, and he gave up on it. He wasn’t there to sightsee, anyway. He was there to do one thing. One chancy fuckin’ thing. Kitt knew full well that Colton might never speak to him again. It was a chance he was willing to take.
“Nah, man, I’m doing fine. Clean and sober, drug-wise, an
yway. How you doing? Stayin’ strong?” Kitt hated the term addict. The first time he’d heard someone in rehab say, “An addict is an addict for life,” he felt disgusted with himself. Some people, like Matty, owned the title, letting the fear of the word keep them out of trouble. Not Kitt. Kitt wanted to beat the word into submission.
He did it with ink. If the word addict was going to follow him for the rest of his life, he wanted something else to follow him just as long. At first, he worried that the tattoo needle might get him jonesing for a fix. It was the complete opposite, much to his delight. In celebration of remaining clean, Kitt got a new tattoo each month. When he had the scratch, Kitt would spring for something big, but no matter what, he got a tally mark on the inside of his left wrist, marking the time that had passed. Thirty-three months clean and counting.
Kitt smiled when Matty said he was still clean. Life on the road with musicians made it hard to resist, but living in the land of excess was probably no easy task, either. Matty worked as an assistant director of photography, staring through a lens for a living. Working for Tinseltown had gotten him on the hard stuff in the first place, but he told Kitt when they were in rehab together that he liked the work, and it was all he had ever done.
“I’m here on business, I’m afraid. Gonna be a short visit, but I couldn’t roll into town without reaching out to ya, brother.” The bus was crawling through the city, people around him murmuring to each other about the craziness just beyond the windows.
The voices made Kitt look back out the window. A man who looked worse than some of the junkies Kitt had come across stood at an intersection with a sandwich board advertising star maps for only five dollars a pop. Lights in the middle of yellow cut-out star shapes blinked on and off, and the man waved pamphlets in the air as people on the street steered clear of him.
