by Caisey Quinn
He smiled. She was so much smarter and so much stronger than him. He’d let it all get to him. Made it personal. All of it. The media, the label, the shitstorm that came whenever he didn’t follow protocol. He’d floundered around like a fish out of water as he tried to make a name for himself while figuring out who he was. The woman in his arms knew who she was already. He was pretty sure she knew who he was too. And yet…she was still here.
“I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that tonight,” he mumbled against her lips.
“I didn’t mind.” Kylie nuzzled down into the area between his shoulder and his neck, kissing his chest lightly as she did. Her head fit perfectly. Again, he was struck by the overwhelming knowledge that she was made for him. He closed his eyes when the room threatened to spin. He wanted a drink. And he wanted to kick his own ass for wanting it.
“Why’d you sing that song, Kylie Lou? The one about your dad? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was…it was amazing. Different for you, but amazing. But it looked…painful.”
She sighed and he gave her a little squeeze. “Mia pretty much hates me and Lily was dealing with a situation with her dad. We usually close the shows together. But Lily’s dad didn’t show, again, and she was hysterical. I’d already used all my material.” He felt her shrug against him. “It was that or the Cup Song. And I didn’t have a cup.”
He grinned. “Well it’s a good song. A great song. I just couldn’t watch you up there, hurting like you were, and not do something about it.” He kissed her on top of the head but she was stiff in his arms.
When she spoke her voice was barely more than a whisper. “Funny, that’s exactly how I felt about you when we were on tour together.”
AFTER her show in Atlanta, Kylie was jittery with anticipation. Trace had his own show across town so he couldn’t make hers. But he was meeting her later at a restaurant downtown called The Tavern. Technically, it would be their first date.
Trace’s sister Rae and her friends had come to see her show and had hung out backstage while she got ready. Rae insisted she wear a dress. Kylie twirled in the full-length mirror, smiling to herself as the red fabric swung loosely just below her thighs.
“You should wear heels,” Rae informed her. Both of her friends nodded in agreement.
“As much as I want to break an ankle and end up in the ER at the end of the night, I’m gonna pass on that suggestion.”
Rae frowned. “But they elongate your legs.”
Kylie rolled her eyes as she slipped into her favorite pair of boots. “You’ve been reading too many fashion magazines, Rae.”
She was just about to tell the girls they could stay as long as they liked and hang out with Lily when a loud knock sounded on the dressing room door. “Come in,” she called out.
Her mouth nearly popped open when the door did. Lily was tucked under the arm of a familiar man in a suit. Kylie’s eyes widened. She was holding a bouquet of lilies.
“Ms. Ryans, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Donovan Taite cleared his throat and reached out a hand. “You look lovely when you’re not instilling fear into the hearts of hardened businessmen, by the way.”
She couldn’t help but grin as she shook his hand. “Mr. Taite, how nice of you to grace us with your presence. I take it you caught the show?”
The broad man nodded and glanced at Lily with what Kylie believed was pride. “Well I certainly couldn’t miss it after you so thoughtfully hand delivered my ticket, now could I? Pretty impressive. All three of you actually. I think you might have something with that bit there at the end.”
She was starting to think so herself. The song they’d written together seemed to be a hit in the making. Mia still hated her guts, but so far she hadn’t stabbed her to death in her sleep. That was something at least.
“Well, I have a…um, prior engagement, but I’m glad you came.” It was the truth. Lily was lit up like a thousand-watt light bulb.
Kylie hugged Rae and told her she’d see her later before saying goodbye to Lily. Just as she pulled the door open to leave, Donovan Taite cleared his throat. “Ms. Ryans?”
She turned and cocked her head in his direction.
“I’m not a perfect man. I make mistakes. When I’m wrong, I say so.” She raised an eyebrow, trying to picture the look on Trace’s face when she told him she’d gotten a sort of apology out of The Donovan Taite. “Thank you for coming to see me. For…saying some things I needed to hear.”
She took a deep breath. “You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.” She winked at him and shot a quick grin at Lily. See? Being a hothead wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She’d have to be sure and tell Trace that. In a half hour when she saw him. Excitement danced inside of her, electrifying every nerve ending in her body. Last night had been nice, but it had included Gretchen. Tonight would just be about them. She also hoped this meant she hadn’t blown Mia’s shot of getting signed with BackRoom Records after all.
“I hope it’s all right to say so, but I think if your daddy had been here to see you tonight, he’d have been proud.”
Unexpected tears welled up in her eyes. “Um, thank you, sir. That’s nice to hear.”
Kylie left the Chameleon Café, where they’d just brought down the house, feeling as if she were walking on air. For the first time since she’d started chasing this dream, it was starting to feel like she might have actually caught it. And low and behold, miracle of all miracles, she had someone to share it with.
SHE took a cab to The Tavern after promising Lily and Mia she’d be back on the bus on time tomorrow afternoon. Lily had told her to have a good time. Mia had given her the usual death glare. Trace had invited all three girls to stay at his house but they’d gotten a hotel. Kylie smirked to herself as she thought about why. She was actually pretty excited about being alone with him. Well, aside from his sister Claire Ann and possibly Rae if she was staying at the farm this weekend. But their rooms were at the opposite end of the house. God bless whatever builder designed the floor plan.
The Tavern was a cute little place tucked into a quaint street lined by trees and streetlamps. An expensive-looking boutique and an ice cream shop bordered it. White twinkle lights lit the trees. It was like walking into a dream. But this was real. Trace Corbin was taking her on a date. She was grinning like a maniac as she stepped inside and told the maître d’ she was waiting for someone.
“Ah yes, Ms. Ryans? We’ve been expecting you.”
She took the man’s arm because he offered it. He escorted her past the main dining area and towards the kitchen. Tucked into a corner she never would have noticed was a small table. Candlelight reflected on Trace’s clean-shaven face. He’d been stubbly yesterday. Her stomach tensed. He’d shaved for her. Tonight they weren’t Kylie Ryans, up and comer, or Trace Corbin, troubled superstar. They were just two people enjoying an evening together. Just as her escort released her, Trace stood. Hot damn, he cleaned up good. Her mouth went dry. She licked her lips as she approached the table.
He wore dark jeans—nice ones like he wore for his shows, not the tattered ones he usually wore when they were just hanging out. His black dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves. Her breath caught when their eyes met. He smiled his warm I adore you smile, and her legs began moving of their own accord. It felt like… like she was walking towards more than just her boyfriend. In that moment, Kylie felt like she was walking towards the one thing she needed more than air. Home.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, giving her an appreciative once-over. “You trying to kill me with that dress?”
“You look pretty handsome yourself.” Jesus. She suddenly felt shy. Which was nuts. This wasn’t some guy she barely knew. They’d seen each other naked. Less than twenty-four hours ago. And yet…she was so nervous her whole body was shaking. Trace leaned in and kissed her cheek. He smelled like warmth and expensive cologne. And…something else. If he’s drinking again, he’d tell me. Wouldn’t he?
He pulled out her chair and she sat, watchin
g his every move as he made his way to his own seat. “I hope this is okay. This is the most private table they have.”
“It’s perfect.” She tried to breathe normally and ignore the strange feeling in her stomach.
Trace grinned, revealing the boyish dimples that framed his perfect mouth. “They have the best steak here. Seriously. You better order one for yourself because you’re not getting any of mine.”
At that, she laughed and her nerves eased up a bit. “Oh, I bet you’d give me a bite if I asked nicely.”
He eyed her from over the top of his menu. “Do you ask for things nicely? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that before.”
With her stomach clenching from the heat in his stare, Kylie put her menu aside. “Maybe you’ve never had anything I wanted badly enough to ask nicely for.”
He raised a brow and opened his mouth to respond. But at that same moment, a waitress appeared and asked for their drink order. Kylie didn’t miss how flustered the girl became when she got an eyeful of Trace. It would’ve been irritating, but really, with the way he looked tonight, Kylie couldn’t blame her. She was still trying to get a handle on her own self.
When the waitress left, Trace leaned across the table. “Actually, I take that back. I’ve heard you ask nicely a time or two. Matter of fact, it bordered on begging. I think it went something like, ‘Oh God, yes, please. Trace, please.’”
Heat crawled over her skin at his imitation of her. Barely keeping the grin of embarrassment from her face, she shook her head. “You’re not right. What kind of thing is that to say to a girl on a first date?”
He grinned back, the promise of something dark gleaming in his eyes. “Considering this date is going to end with that dress on my bedroom floor and your legs wrapped around my neck, I think it’s a perfectly acceptable thing to say.”
Good Lord. What was she going to do with this man? Oh yeah. Exactly what he’d just described. “Not if you don’t buy me dessert it isn’t. No dessert, no love.”
Trace leaned back in his seat, easing up the intensity of his stare and allowing her to finally breathe normally. “Hmm, I’ll think about it.”
A half hour later, they were discussing how their shows had gone and enjoying their steaks. So naturally, she had to go and ruin it.
She cleared her throat. This conversation had been put on hold long enough and it was time, whether she liked it or not. “So, any chance you’re going to tell me how this ended up being a co-headlining tour?”
Trace sighed and put his fork down. Propping his elbows on the table, he leaned forward.
“Yeah. But in the interest of full disclosure, I probably have to go back further than that.”
Kylie put her own fork down and took a sip of her sweet tea. “Okay.”
Trace took a deep breath before he began. “I’ve been wanting this type of tour for as long as I’ve been with Capital. Outdoor venues, cheaper tickets, tailgating style, you know? I’m nothin’ special. Just a regular guy. I wanted anyone who wanted to hear my music to be able to come and just have a good time. Let loose, drink a few beers, and enjoy a decent show.” He shrugged and Kylie fought the urge to correct him. She’d seen him perform. He put on so much more than a decent show. But his eyes were getting that far away look and she knew it was best to let him talk while he was in the mood to open up.
“The label seemed to be going for it. Finally. Honestly, I probably have you to thank for that. The rumors about us, the Cinderella story stuff, made me look like Prince Charming instead of Captain Panty Dropper as you so lovingly refer to me.”
He winked and she laughed out loud.
“Anyways, as soon as the venues are all set and everything’s falling into place, Noel Davies drops this bomb on me. On all of us really. Gretchen is my co-headliner, and it’s either suck it up and deal or Bryce Parker can take my place. On my tour. The one I’ve been working my ass off to arrange.”
Kylie winced. “Ouch.” Maybe I don’t want to sign with his label after all.
“Yeah.” Trace huffed out a breath and then took a drink of his Coke. “That’s not the worst part.”
She held her breath, unsure as to what to expect.
“I knew Gretchen…before. And Noel Davies knows that.”
The air whooshed from her lungs. There was something about the way he said knew that hit her wrong. “Knew as in…”
For a split second he looked as if he were in pain, but then he continued. “As in when I first moved to Nashville with a few guys I was in a band with, she sort of joined up with us. Her real name is Gretchen Warner, and she’s from a small coastal town in South Carolina. But she had a Gibson Hummingbird, similar to yours actually. She was in love with it. I mean, in love. As in I think she slept with it in her bed. So another guy in the band started calling her Gibson. And Gretchen Gibson was born.” Trace shook his head. Kylie tried to ignore the ache caused by his tone. He held some type of affection for Gretchen in his voice. It was subtle, but she could hear it.
“Anyways, we were all young and stupid. No offense.” He winked and she rolled her eyes.
“None taken.”
“A bunch of shit happened and the band broke up. Not exactly on amicable terms either. She went off and did her own thing and so did the rest of us. We…crossed paths a few times but that was that. Guess who her very first agent was?”
Kylie backtracked through her mind and tried to put the pieces together. “Noel Davies?”
“Name your prize, pretty lady.”
Kylie smirked. “Okay, but I still don’t get it? Why force her off on you?”
She watched as his forehead wrinkled over his brow. He rubbed his neck for a moment before meeting her gaze. “She’s a mess. You were dead on when you called her the female version of me. She drinks like a pirate, pisses herself on stage, flashes the audience if she gets it in her screwed up head to do so. I think the only reason people even buy tickets to her concerts is so they can say they saw whatever outrageous shit she does next. Davies can’t say to hell with her because she probably knows more about him than anyone. So he added a conduct unbecoming clause to the contract for this tour. If either of us screws up and breaches the contract, he’s free of us courtesy of the label’s new policy. Like me, Gretchen’s all out of favors. So what better way to cut two fuck-ups loose than to stick them together? We’re gasoline and matches, and all Capital has to do is sit back and wait for the explosion.”
If she disliked Gretchen Gibson before, she downright hated her now. “Trace, you can’t let them do this. It isn’t fair. It’s not…right.”
He shrugged and picked up his knife and fork. “It is what it is. I had my chance. I had several chances. I screwed up and now I have to take what I can get. Even if it’s…well, you know.”
She watched as he finished off the last bite of his steak. “But you’re doing better. You’re working so hard and—”
“Lots of people work hard, Kylie Lou. Doesn’t mean we always get what we want. Besides, Gretchen isn’t out to get me or anything. She’s too busy ruining her own life to interfere with mine all that much.”
She handed the waitress her plate and bit her lip as he did the same. It sure as hell felt like Gretchen was interfering on their night right now so she changed the subject. “Oh,” she said as the waitress sat her Tiramisu in front of her. “I never got the chance to tell you that I went to see Donovan Taite.”
Trace had just taken a bite of his cheesecake. He swallowed and then gaped at her. “No shit?”
She nodded. “No shit. And um, it didn’t go all that well.”
“Kylie, I told you not to—”
“He came to the show tonight, Trace. And get this, he told me I was right and he was wrong and he thanked me. Sort of. And he said my daddy would be proud if he could see me.” She placed a spoonful of her dessert in her mouth and her eyes closed involuntarily. Damn, it was good. She’d have settled for ice cream at the little shop she’d seen on her way in. But even a scoop o
f mint chocolate chip couldn’t compare to this.
When she opened her eyes, Trace was watching her. She couldn’t decipher what was going on in his gaze, which was unusual. She’d gotten pretty good at reading him. “What?”
He shook himself out of his trance. “Nothing. Just thinking that I am majorly screwed. If you can bring a man like Donovan Taite to his knees, then I don’t stand a chance.”
A grin broke out over her face. “Hmm, you on your knees. Now where have I seen than before?”
Trace’s eyes widened and he nearly choked on his cheesecake.
“Ah yes, the shower date you owe me.”
“You finished?” he asked, jerking his head towards her plate.
“I am now.” She stared into his scorching gaze. God, she loved those eyes.
He didn’t break eye contact for a single second as his arm shot into the air. “Check, please.”
“CLOSE your eyes,” Trace told her as they walked out into the warm Georgia night.
“What? Why?” His girlfriend shot him an annoyed look and he couldn’t help but smirk back at her.
“Just do it. Please, for me?” He put his arm around her so he could guide her in the direction he wanted. “See? I can ask nicely, too.”
She shook her head but did as she was told. He walked her around to the place where he’d parked her surprise.
“Okay, open.”
She didn’t say anything, but her mouth dropped open into that little O of surprise he loved. When she turned to him, her eyes said more than her mouth ever could. She was shocked, sad, happy, and grateful. He couldn’t hold back anymore, so he did what he’d been wanting to do since she’d strutted up in the restaurant in that damn dress. His lips sought hers out as she clung to him. Her tongue pressed into his mouth, and he tasted the sweet cream and espresso flavor of her dessert. Once they were both out of breath, he pulled back. “So you like it then?”
She nodded, glancing back at the red and gray ’88 Chevy pickup in the parking lot. “I love it. Is it—”