by Naomi Niles
“Do you really mean that?” asked Penny.
“I do. I’ve won so many races that the magic has started to wear off. I don’t feel the same rush I used to feel when I stepped into a car. I’m ready to do something new with my life—devote myself to a career and, maybe one day, starting a family.”
No one knew quite how to respond. Dickie sat frozen with a look of surprise on his face, while Nic stood silent and pensive. Penny, however, ran forward and threw her arms around me, tears filling her eyes. “I didn’t want to say it,” she said low in my ear, “and if you had kept racing, I would’ve still supported you, but I’ve wanted this for you for so long.”
“I don’t know that I would ever have had the strength to do it without you, Pen,” I said. “I needed someone like you to remind me what was really important. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably still be racing, not realizing how dissatisfied I felt.”
Penny pulled back so that she could look me in the face. In spite of her tears, she glowed with a fierce pride. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of you than I am right now,” she said. “Even if you had lost tonight, you still would’ve won.”
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
Penny
Two Years Later
“You know, when you first told me about your family,” I told Darren, “it sounded like all you guys did was eat breakfast all day. When you asked me if I wanted to meet your parents, I remember thinking, ‘I don’t know, I’m not feeling really hungry for breakfast.’”
“Hope you weren’t too disappointed, babe,” said Darren, softly stroking my back.
“Actually no. I was relieved to find that they sometimes serve lunch and dinner.”
We were seated around the dining table in the Savery kitchen eating dinner. Darren’s mom had made fried chicken with cream gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet corn, and warm buttered bread rolls. I was already so full after my second helping that I barely had room for the raspberry pie.
Darren and I had been dating for about two years now. After his last race, he had sold the Mustang and taken a job as a bank teller, from which position he had recently risen to branch manager. Nic and I were still running the store, and despite his promise, Adam was still coming in at least once a week to pester us. On Wednesday nights, we invited Dickie over for dinner, and during the weekends, Darren’s mom usually invited us over at least once.
“Mom reminded me the other day that the wedding’s coming up,” I said to Curtis, who was seated to my left. “How do you feel? Nervous?”
Curtis removed his cowboy hat and mopped his sweaty brow. “You know, I thought I would be. They say every man is terrified twice in his life: on the day he proposes and the day of his wedding. But with Allie, there was never any question that she would say no. We both knew we wanted to get married. We couldn’t imagine spending the rest of our lives with anyone else.”
After dinner, Darren and I took a walk around the pond in his back pasture. The sky was a smoky red in the light of the setting sun, and the crickets chirped invisibly in the tall grass. Jasper and Gandalf ran circles around us, grabbing at each other’s necks and occasionally getting in our way so that we were obliged to step over them.
“Did you ever feel that way about us?” I asked after we had been walking together for some time in silence.
“What way?”
“What Curtis said about Allie: how it just ‘felt right.’ I hate when people say that because I’m so good at second-guessing myself. I’ve never felt that confident about anything.”
Darren and I had never talked about getting married, although I could sense that it occupied his mind almost as much as it did mine. “I mean, I’ve never wanted to be with anyone but you,” he said after a thoughtful pause. “At least not since we started going out.”
I kicked at a stone and watched it ripple the dark water. “I feel the same way. There was never a moment when I thought, ‘I could totally see myself with someone else.’ I guess I just latched onto you. It’s what I do. But you were so kind and genuine and understanding, you made it the easiest thing in the world to do.”
Darren was quiet for a moment as though struggling to make up his mind about something. Finally, he said, “Babe, come with me,” and strode off in the direction of the barn.
I followed a few paces behind, Jasper nipping at my heels, feeling increasingly puzzled. It wasn’t like him to just trot off when we were in the middle of a serious discussion, and I began to worry that he wasn’t taking it seriously.
But when he opened the barn doors and motioned for me to come inside, I understood.
Lanterns had been lit in the upper loft, and the whole room was blazing with light. Down below, the hay had been cleared away, and someone had constructed a perfect recreation of our talking room. I recognized it the moment I saw it because it looked exactly like what I had been picturing all the years we had known each other. There stood the shabby couch at the back of the room with its green and blue cushions. There lay the ugly throw rug, and there, leaned against the nightstand, stood an old guitar.
“I don’t believe this,” I said, hands raised to my face. “You remembered everything!”
“Not quite everything,” said Darren. “As I recall, the walls of our talking room were made of pasta, and the barn is obviously not. Curtis had to talk me out of building a room made of ramen—but guess what I got instead!”
I squealed with delight as he reached down and picked up a stuffed green alligator. “LENNY!” I exclaimed, with a feeling like my heart was going to burst. “The world’s greatest guard-alligator.”
“And of course you’ve trained him so he won’t attack us,” said Darren. He began walking toward the sofa and motioned for me to follow.
“So,” he said as I sat down beside him, “now that we’re in our talking room, let’s talk.”
“About what?” I tried resting my hands on my knees and then, not liking how that felt, placed them in my lap.
“About how I think you’re the best person in the world for me,” said Darren, slowly and with sincerity. “And how I’ve never connected with anyone the way we connect with each other—we practically have our own language.”
“And our own room,” I said, running my fingers over the back of the couch.
“Yeah, and I want to stay in that room with you for the rest of our lives. There are mornings when I wake up next to you and think to myself, ‘The only thing I really want out of life is to wake up like this every day of my life.’”
“I still don’t get what you see in me,” I said with a slow shake of my head, “but I’ve come to accept it. If I’m lucky enough to be loved by someone like you, I’m not going to complain about it. All I can really do is return it.”
“And there is one other thing you can do,” said Darren.
“What’s that?”
I had a feeling I knew, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up lest I be disappointed. But when he dropped down off the couch and fell to his knees, I was sure. My vision went blurry for a moment, and my heart thumped in my chest as he said, “Penny—I don’t know how else to say this, but will you marry me and spend the rest of your life with me?”
I never did manage to say yes. By that point, I was so surprised and overwhelmed I just dropped down on the floor next to him and hugged him for a long time. He mussed my hair with his lips, and I heard him breathe a quick prayer of thanks.
“So are we really doing this?” he said at last. “Are we really about to get married?”
“I think so,” I said into his chest, so low he could barely me.
“Penny and Darren,” he said to himself, as though testing out how it sounded. “My parents never did think they would get me married off. But between you and me, I think I got the best spouse of the whole bunch. I don’t know if I lucked into it, or if God was just being really kind to me—”
“Definitely that one,” I said, and Darren laughed and laughed.
Get m
y next book. Click here to continue.
Get my never released free book Boarded for a limited time.
Click here to get your free book
SINGLE DAD COWBOY
By Naomi Niles
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Naomi Niles
Chapter One
Mackenzie
It felt like a dream, as it always did – the final notes of my guitar ringing through the bar, the note I held with the last remaining air in my lungs floating over the top of the crowd as it faded to silence, and the dying sizzle of Lilly's cymbals behind me, followed by a brief silence.
I smiled, waiting for it – and then it came. A huge bout of applause with thunderous clapping, eager whistling, and hearty cheers. The spotlight dimmed so I could peer out over the crowd. What I saw looking back at me were faces that were full of admiration and approval.
I stood from my stool, my guitar hanging over my shoulder, and took a bow, prompting another bout of powerful applause. Behind me, Lilly stood from her drum kit and bowed as well. I leaned forward to the microphone and said, simply, “Thank ya’ll, very much! I'm Mackenzie Shea, and keeping the beat on the drums is Miss Lilly Wright.”
The crowd cheered and applauded again just as the stage lights dimmed, and the DJ started playing music. I put Betsy — the guitar given to me by my granddad when I was eleven years old — carefully on her stand, and then walked over to Lilly and gave her a big hug.
“Thanks so much, Lilly; it was great to play with a drummer for a change. It was just perfect!”
“My pleasure, girl!” she exclaimed with a broad smile crossing her tanned face. Lilly and I had been best friends since high school, and at twenty-eight-years-old, that was longer than most friendships lasted in Nashville. But we both had a love for music and that had been common thread since the day we’d met.
She'd been playing drums longer than I'd been playing guitar . . . which was since she could walk, I think. It had served her well; she was one of the most renowned drummers in Nashville. And in a city of musicians, that says a lot of her talent.
“You've gotta get these songs of yours recorded properly one of these days,” she said to me. “You could really go far if the right person heard 'em.”
“That's easy for you to say, Lilly,” I countered with a sigh. “You've already done it all: you've been in a band that was a household name, you've toured across the country and over half the world. You had a manager, promoter, record label behind you—”
She held up a finger to silence me.
“That's not what I'm saying you need, unless that’s what you want. And I didn't mean to suggest it'd be easy. Lord knows it ain't, especially in today's business. Things were different ten years ago, when me and Wild Oats had our big breakthrough. But that doesn't mean you can't achieve some sort of success beyond these bar gigs. I know you're not after what I had exactly. I mean, I quit that life for a reason, after it got all crazy.”
“Yeah, you're right – that's not what I want. I'm happy here, and wouldn't wanna leave, especially with my dad being, well, you know, he's not doing so well.”
“I know, I know. And that's not what I'm suggesting. Just that your songs are really, really good, Mack. Trust me, I know the industry well, and you write and sing better than some people who are household names. I just think you deserve a bit more recognition than you are getting. Sure, a lot of people know you and come out to these bar gigs just to see you, but would it hurt to get some radio play? And I don't mean on the smaller, late-night local shows with those demos you recorded two years ago. I mean real, serious recordings in a professional studio with a top studio engineer. I can open those doors for you if you want – I've still got the connections in the industry.”
I shook my head. “If I get there, I want it to be because of my own merit, not because my best friend had and inside contact and helped me out. You know I really, really appreciate the offer, Lil, and you're my best friend in the world – but I'm comfortable like this. I'm happy where I am.”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “That's what you say, Mack, that's what you say, but I know you well, girl, better than most. Probably better than you know yourself most days. And I think you have a hunger for something better. Something more than all of this.”
I opened my mouth to deny her accusations, but another voice interrupted us – a male voice.
“You've got the voice of an angel, Mackenzie Shea.”
I looked down from where we stood backstage to find a strong, clean-shaven jaw and warm brown eyes staring up at me smiling. A plaid shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, accompanied by jeans and a tan cowboy hat, with freshly polished boots to match. He was handsome, to say the least.
“Thank you,” I replied with a smile. “I'm glad you enjoyed the show.”
He grinned, revealing a mouth full of pearly white teeth. “May I also say,” he said, still smiling, “you look like an angel too. I’ve always had a weakness for long brown hair and a killer smile. Would you be so kind as to allow me to buy you a drink?”
Ah. So, this was why he'd come to talk to me. The smile on my face tightened and a certain coldness washed over me.
“I'm sorry, but I don't think so. I appreciate the offer, but—”
“Aw c'mon, please. I'm a big fan, and—”
I held up a hand. “I really appreciate that, and you seem like a really nice guy, but I have a policy. I keep my career and my personal life separate. Thanks for coming out, really. See you at the next show, I hope.”
I turned my back on him and moved to start packing up my guitar and pedals. I could feel his eyes on me but paid no attention to him, and eventually, Lilly squatted down next to me.
“He's gone,” she said.
“Thank goodness.”
She frowned. “He didn't seem like too bad a guy, ya know. Couldn't you have at least given him a chance?”
I sighed. “Come on, Lil, you know how it is. I'm just… I'm just too busy for a guy in my life right now.”
She shook her head. “You've been saying that for how long now? Two years? Isn't that how long it's been since you and Brad split up?”
“Two years, one month and, hmm, one and a half weeks. Yeah. And I don't need that kind of crap in my life again.”
“Not every guy is like Brad. In fact, there are a ton of really decent guys out there who are nothing at all like Brad, guys who could make you happy. Who knows, that guy out there in the tan cowboy hat with the awesome smile could've been one of them.”
“Or . . . he could have been like Brad. Which, in my experience, is a much more likely chance.”
Lilly shook her head. “You can't keep living in the past, Mack. And you shouldn't be so afraid of a little change.”
I knew she was right – but it was hard for me to admit. “Well, yeah, maybe you're right, I guess. But look, I just don't feel like getting chatted up by guys tonight.”
Lilly looked me up and down with a cheeky smile on her face. “Well, then you sure as hell shouldn't have worn those jeans, girl! And that top unbuttoned just far enough that you've got a nice section of your cleavage jumping out! You better keep ol’ Betsy with you tonight, ‘cause you'll be needing something to fight all the guys off with!”
We both laughed, and my mood lightened just as another male voice interrupted us – this one, however, was a familiar one.
“Well done, ladies; that was a truly spectacular performance.”
Jason's New York accent marked him as being distinctly foreign in the very Nashville bar, as did his fashion sense. Unlike the majority of men in this bar who wore white t-shirts beneath checked shirts or flannel with blue jeans and boots, Jason was dressed in a snappy, black suit with a gray t
ie. His dark hair was slicked back, and his glasses glinted in the light from the stage. Also unlike many of the guys who frequented the bar, Jason was small and slender in stature and build. He hopped up onto the stage and wrapped his arms around Lilly, who was pretty tiny herself, and the two of them engaged in a quick but passionate kiss.
“Thanks, Jason,” I said with a smile after they had finished. “I appreciate that.”
I couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that snaked through me sometimes when I was around Lilly. We'd grown up in very similar circumstances, but she'd had everything go her way while it had seemed as though I'd suffered misfortune after misfortune. She'd had tremendous success with music and her career, plus she'd been dating Jason for the last six years. While I wasn't jealous of him at all – he totally wasn't my type – I was a little jealous of what they had together: a sweet, loving but passionate relationship that had stood the test of time.
“You know, Mack, you sounded the best I've ever heard you sound tonight,” Jason said as he turned to me. “You and Lilly work really well together on stage. You've got that authentic musical chemistry that's so elusive. I mean, you sound amazing when you're solo, don't get me wrong, but with Lilly on the drums behind you, it just completes the picture perfectly. You guys should get into a studio and get some of these tracks recorded.”
Lilly snickered. “Kind of what I just told her.”
“Yeah, we should, I guess,” I replied. I didn't want to go on about it seeing as I'd already talked it over with Lilly for longer than I’d wanted to, so I changed the subject.
“Hey, Jason, can you go find Will and see if he can help us get these drums and my equipment into the van? Then we'll all grab a drink and maybe shoot some pool; how does that sound?” Lilly asked.
“I saw him at the far end of the bar chatting up an especially trashy looking lady,” Jason replied with a smirk. “I'll go check to see if he's still there.”
