Hannah beamed at the compliment and lifted onto her toes. Deacon snuck a quick glance down the hall, and after confirming that Max was indeed still educating Tyler about the Disney channel, he dropped his head and brushed his mouth across hers.
So damn soft. How could she be that soft? Her skin, her hair, her sweet tiny sighs. Hannah’s softness smoothed out his rough edges, and over the last week, he’d grown addicted to the feel of her in his arms.
Hannah hummed against his mouth, and with severe reluctance, he lifted his head. He didn’t want to get caught.
“You’re gonna like that restaurant, too,” he told her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “When I was scoping out the menu, I noticed pulled pork sliders were on it.”
“Oh, were they now?” she asked, her eyes lighting in anticipation. “They’re my weakness.”
“I know, and if it didn’t make me so happy to see that look on your face, I’d be jealous.”
Hannah grinned, then bit the corner of her lip as she snuck her hand under the hem of his shirt. “Well, it just so happens, I’ve recently discovered another weakness,” she confided in a whisper. “Sexy fiddle players with talented fingers.”
Her nails raked over his back, and Deacon’s hands clenched around her hips. If they were alone, he’d happily explore that weakness in detail, but as it was, they were on a cramped tour bus with zero privacy…and an all-too observant Max down the hall. Down boy.
Deacon shook his head with a playful smirk and reached back to take her hands in his.
“As for dinner,” he said, forcing them back on topic, and Hannah chuckled. “If it’s all right with you, I’d prefer to keep it to the three of us. We can do a cake with everyone here later, but I think it’d be more special if dinner was just Max and his family, you know?”
A smile spread across Hannah’s face, one unlike any he’d ever seen before, that lit her eyes and painted her cheeks with a rosy glow. It was so beautiful it nearly stole his breath. For a second, he couldn’t figure out what he’d said that made her so happy…and then, he understood.
He’d called them a family.
“I’d like that,” she whispered, and Deacon swallowed hard.
For years, he’d called the Fishers his family. They’d certainly filled the role better than his own, and they’d always made him feel welcome. He could argue that was what he’d meant this time, too; that Max treated Hannah like an honorary aunt. But that would be a lie.
Ever since Max was born, the three of them had had a special bond. A bond separate from her parents. Living on the bus together, going on tour, they’d spun into something new. Something that had only strengthened over the last week.
As Deacon stared into Hannah’s eyes, memorizing the way her face overflowed with love, he realized exactly what that something new was.
The three of them, together, felt like home.
“Dude, get out of here.”
Deacon lifted his eyes from the phone on his lap and found Tyler leaning over Miles to get his attention. The crowd outside Cincinnati’s top country station had thinned over the last few hours, but people were still wrapped around the building. What was supposed to be a small meet and greet with fans had somehow transformed into a major signing event.
Tyler lifted his chin toward the parking lot. “I told you before, we’ve got this covered. You’ve more than done your part. Family comes first.”
“I’m good,” Deacon said, smiling for the fan in front of him. He made quick work of his signature across the top of Blue’s latest CD and added, “I’ve got plenty of time.”
Okay, plenty was a stretch, but he wasn’t late yet, either.
It was getting close to pushing it, though.
Originally, the meet and greet had been scheduled to end fifty minutes ago. Once they arrived and saw how large the turnout was, they’d agreed to extend it an hour. With the cushion Deacon had built in, he’d felt confident he could swing the longer signing and still make it back to the bus to change before Max’s birthday dinner. Unfortunately, from the harried expression on Arabella’s face, sixty minutes hadn’t been enough.
“Okay, guys, here’s the plan.” Smiling her pleasant, professional smile, she cut in front of the next fan in line and lifted a slender finger to indicate she’d only be a second. “Ten minutes isn’t going to make a dent in this crowd. I suggest we pack it up and give everyone left in line a ticket to see you tomorrow. We have a couple hours between sound check and the concert, and I already okayed it with the venue. The fans here will grumble, but if I throw in a free download of your new single, they should go gracefully. What do you think?”
Deacon was the first to chime in. “Sounds perfect.”
A wave of relief rushed through his body as the others echoed his sentiment, and he sagged against his chair with a laugh.
He wouldn’t have admitted it, of course, but he’d been worried. Everyone had told him, repeatedly, that they understood if he had to leave early, but he hadn’t wanted to be that guy. The guy who asked for special favors, especially so early in the game, and without a contract that extended past the tour. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been watching the clock, though.
As Arabella explained the situation to the remaining fans, and promised everyone that free download for their trouble, the guys stood from their chairs. They watched the crowd start to disperse and exchanged a weary laugh.
“Man, that was crazy.” Charlie scrubbed a hand over his face. “Do you remember when we had to bribe people to come talk to us after a show?”
Miles snickered. “You mean, when Nate hit on every woman who walked by our table and promised them a good time?” he corrected. “Yeah, I remember.”
“Hey, I didn’t lie,” their drummer retorted. “I made every single one of those honeys feel special, and they all went home with merch. That’s creative salesmanship if you ask me.”
“Yeah, well, that wasn’t all they went home with,” Tyler joked under his breath, and Nate flipped him the bird.
Moments like this were when Deacon felt the most out of place. He didn’t have a story to add. He didn’t share those same memories. The rest of the guys had played together for five years, and most of them had known each other longer than that. No matter what he did, how long he played, he’d always be the new guy. With the band, with the label, and with the fans.
That was why he pushed himself so hard. Even with a contract extension, there wasn’t anything he could do about those missed years, but he could make himself an asset for the future. Hopefully, by staying later today, he’d given himself another notch in the asset column. Now, it was time to jet. All he needed was the all-clear from Arabella.
Having handed out the last ticket in line, she walked over to a group of suits, and as she shook each of their hands, her diamond sparkled in the setting sun. Deacon smiled as he tapped his hand against his thigh, strangely grateful for that ring. If it hadn’t been for Charlie proposing to Ella, he and Hannah might never have happened.
He was still smiling like a sappy idiot when a shiny black Escalade pulled up to the curb.
“What’s Stone doing here?” Tyler asked, folding his arms as a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair stepped out. Deacon’s smile fell instantly as he stood up taller.
David Stone was a country music legend. The things he’d accomplished the last few decades redefined the industry, and his label housed the biggest names to ever come out of Nashville. Deacon had only met him one other time face-to-face, backstage at the Opry, but they’d both been preoccupied. Stone, by his one and only daughter’s recent engagement, and Deacon by a certain redheaded siren.
Stone’s assistant Catherine had handled Deacon’s original contract. Arabella hadn’t become the band’s manager until this past summer, and before that they hadn’t had one. He wasn’t sure if she or even any of the guys knew about his uncertain future, but Stone did.
“Not sure,” Charlie murmured, standing a little taller himself. The usually stern CEO pulled his da
ughter into a warm hug, then after a few words, turned and headed toward them. “But I think we’re about to find out.”
Deacon glanced at his cell phone. The sensible part of him knew he needed to head out. Between traffic back to the bus, and then again from the stadium to the restaurant, he’d barely have enough time to run a comb through his hair, much less freshen up. But the other part of him, the side eager to lock down his future, kept him from leaving just yet.
“Another successful event, gentlemen,” Stone praised as he came to a stop in front of them. Tyler nodded in agreement, but otherwise said nothing. His eyes narrowed in question.
“Daddy was in Columbus signing Eden’s opening act,” Arabella explained, smiling wide from under his arm. “He decided to come out here and surprise us.”
Deacon bit back a smile. As sweet as she was, their manager didn’t understand how nerve-racking it was to have the boss suddenly appear at their event. Even Charlie’s fingers had a jittery twitch. Blue was sitting pretty as Belle Meade’s number one group, and their tour had long sold out, but it was well-known that Stone never let his artists rest on their laurels.
“Ella tells me the crowd this afternoon tripled the expected attendance,” Stone said, looking them each in the eye. “Steel Drum continues to break records, and the five of you keep making me money. I think that deserves a drink. What do you say I take you boys out to celebrate, huh?”
An almost jovial smile tipped Stone’s lips, and Deacon stilled where he stood. How could he skip out now? This was his chance to impress the boss. But if he didn’t leave, they’d never make their reservation.
“Deke Latrell,” the CEO said suddenly, swinging his gaze in Deacon’s direction. “I don’t believe we’ve spoken much since you joined the band. Let’s rectify that tonight, huh?”
Tyler glanced at him and spoke up. “Actually, Deke has—”
“Sounds good,” he interrupted, shooting his friend a look. “Looking forward to it, sir.”
Stone nodded his approval and then gave his daughter the name of a nearby club. Apparently, Eden and Blackfoot Daisy, the newest addition to the Belle Meade fold, were driving out to meet them as well. As Arabella went to work wrapping things up so the six of them could leave, Deacon pulled Tyler aside.
“I can go for a few minutes,” he argued. “I’ll text Hannah and ask her to meet me at the restaurant. I should’ve done that anyway, once we knew we were staying later. This way I won’t backtrack to pick them up, and I can still make dinner and get face time in with the boss.”
Face time that would hopefully lead to a discussion about his contract. Hannah would understand. It wasn’t just him depending on his future with the band. It was Max and even her, too. Besides, even if his contract didn’t get ironed out, he couldn’t be the only one to not make an appearance.
Tyler gave him a skeptical look, but shrugged. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”
“I do,” Deacon replied, slipping his phone from his pocket. He texted Hannah with the revised plan and assured himself as much as anyone else, “Everything will be fine.”
Chapter Fourteen
“The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round…”
Arabella giggled as Hannah and Sherry swung their hips and snaked down the hall in a pseudo conga line to the popular children’s song. It probably wouldn’t have been nearly as funny…or weird…if the kids had been awake and singing, too, but one thing Hannah had learned quickly about life on the road: stir-craziness led to some pretty strange things.
“Aw, come on, Ella,” Sherry sing-songed, beckoning her friend with a head wag. “You know the words, come dance with us.”
“Nuh uh. You two are certifiable.” Tucking her leg beneath her on the leather couch, a vintage-inspired dress draped over her legs, Arabella looked like a retro supermodel. “I’m quite comfortable where I am, thank you very much, and I have no interest in waking sleeping children. You realize they’ve only been down for a half hour, right?”
Hannah stuck her tongue out, but she did stop dancing. Her friend had a very valid point.
Max had been crankier than normal that morning, still recovering from the excitement of his birthday. True to his word, Deacon had made up for the restaurant debacle by whisking them away for breakfast yesterday, following that with a trip to the movies and ice cream. He’d even convinced Hannah to bring Max backstage for the concert, letting him watch his daddy perform from the wings. Max had been in hog heaven.
Admittedly, she’d been hurt and angry about the botched dinner, but she’d never once doubted Deacon would make things right. On a good day, he acted as though it were up to him to save the world, like he was somehow singlehandedly responsible for protecting the people he cared about. He’d always held a huge weight on his shoulders, and when he messed up, that weight only tripled.
What Hannah wanted, though—what she’d wanted since she was fourteen—was to help him share that burden. Guilt still clung like a cape on his shoulders when he’d headed out for sound check that afternoon, but regret didn’t do anyone any good. Neither did torturing himself, or ignoring the good things that he had done.
Had he screwed up? Absolutely. But he’d apologized and made amends, and everyone made bad choices at times. If only he’d see that while he wasn’t perfect, he was an incredible father and musician, and that he could strike a balance between his two worlds—especially if he accepted her help. But then, the man defined stubborn.
A secret smile twitched her lips. Now that they were sleeping together, however, maybe she could find more creative ways to incentivize him to accept help.
“I caught that.”
Hannah widened her eyes at Sherry’s knowing smirk, and felt her cheeks turn pink.
“Yeah, we see you over there, getting all hot and bothered over a certain fiddle player.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Things seem to be going rather well for my latest couple, if I do say so myself.”
Arabella grinned. “I predict we’ll be celebrating another engagement soon,” she added playfully.
The heat in Hannah’s face went supernova and she was certain she was crimson. Luckily, her cell phone chose the exact perfect time to ring, and when she recognized the number calling, she excused herself to answer.
Seriously, though. It’d taken Deacon ten years to even kiss her! Who knew how long it’d take him to want to move things to the next level…or if he ever would.
Outside the bus, the fresh afternoon air cleared away that sobering thought, and she pressed accept. “Hello?”
“Hannah, hey, it’s Crystal Perkins. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“No, not at all,” she replied, smiling at the familiar voice. Crystal had been her boss at the church when she’d worked at their small preschool. She had loved it there. “What’s up?”
“A lot of things, actually,” the woman confided, practically bubbling with excitement. “You remember that abandoned preschool, Bright Beginnings? Well, Mrs. Walters finally decided to sell it off, and the church acquired the property. As you know, we’ve been working toward expansion for some time, and this opportunity was too good to pass up. We’re planning on opening the new location by the new year.”
“Oh, wow. That’s incredible!”
Before Hannah had left for Paris, the church had had numerous families turned away or wait-listed due to inadequate space. The new spot, just down the street from the preschool, would be a huge blessing for their community.
“We think so,” Crystal agreed with a small laugh. “We’re also revamping the curriculum while we’re at it, expanding the program in one fell swoop. One of our goals is to offer a heavy artistic emphasis: movement, drawing, painting, drama, the whole nine.” She paused and flutters flooded Hannah’s stomach. “That’s where you come in.”
“I’m not sure I’m following.”
“When the board met, yours was the first name that came up. We remember you wanting to start
an after-school drama enrichment program a couple years back, and well, we’re hoping you’ll be interested in spearheading this new focus. You’d be perfect for it.”
Silence rang as words ceased to exist. Hannah blinked and stared at the shiny siding of the bus, completely unable to process what she’d just heard.
The mission statement she’d crafted in that Parisian café had involved so much more than a makeover. In fact, it’d had three parts: getting Deacon’s attention, stepping out of the shadows, and, finally, finding a career. She’d wanted to discover her place in the world, a role where she could thrive and utilize her skills and personal experience—and this job would do precisely that.
But she also loved being here, with the band. Max and Lizzie filled her heart with joy, and a future with Deacon was looking brighter than ever. Sure, they’d hit a few bumps along the way, but she had no doubt they’d figure things out. Together, they could do anything.
It was with that thought in mind that Hannah released her breath. “Crystal, I can’t thank you enough for thinking of me. Honestly, this opportunity sounds incredible, and it’s what I always dreamed of doing. The arts made a huge impact on me, especially drama, and it’d be amazing to pass that along to the next generation. But…well…there’ve been some changes in my life recently.”
“Oh, really?” Crystal asked, and Hannah heard the subtle change in her voice. “What kind of changes?”
Smiling, she realized it was no longer a potential employer asking, but a friend and former classmate. Crystal had been a couple grades ahead of them in school, but she’d witnessed what it’d been like for Hannah and Deacon, and they’d discussed it over chocolate a time or two when they worked together at the church. If anyone would understand, even a little, what this meant to her, it’d be Crystal.
“You remember how Deacon joined Blue about a year ago?”
Her friend snorted. “Remember? Honey, that made front page news. Folks still talk about it around here, what with the concert coming in a couple weeks. I even went and scored myself some tickets.”
The Nanny Arrangement (Country Blues) Page 16
