Hearts on Fire

by Alison Packard

  Jealousy sliced through him as he watched her easy camaraderie with the roadie. Being on tour did that, strangers became family, and some even became lifelong friends. He and Jessie had become friends, but now they were back to being strangers. And because he’d known friendship wasn’t something she gave easily, not having it now was worse than anything he could have ever imagined.

  As if sensing she was being watched, she turned and their gazes collided across the stage. Her smile faltered as the seconds ticked by. She remained rooted to the spot, so he moved forward. One of them had to make the first move; it looked like it would be him.

  “Hey,” he said as he halted in front of her.

  She thanked the roadie, who smiled and left them to attend to Tara and Renee.

  “Hello,” she replied, her tone formal and her eyes guarded. “Thank you for agreeing to help us out.”

  “You’re welcome.” He rested his arm along the top of his favorite guitar, a Fender Strat that he’d bought when he was sixteen, after years of saving his allowance and hoarding the money he’d earned doing odd jobs around town.

  Although his father had made good money and left them fairly well-off after he died, his mom always believed that he should learn the value of money. It was a lesson he’d learned well, and to this day, he hadn’t touched one dollar of the money his father had left him. He wanted to make something of himself on his own terms, not because he had connections or an inheritance.

  “Wally gave me the set list yesterday. It looks like it’s pretty much the same as before,” he said, after an uncomfortable silence.

  “For the most part.” Jessie tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “The only difference is, I’ve changed up the order so that some of my older stuff is sprinkled throughout the set. Works better that way.”

  He nodded. “So what the hell happened to Kenny? Wally said he broke his arm?”

  Jessie rolled her eyes. “The damn fool decided to take a swan dive off the stage, and because he’d had a couple of fireballs before the show, he miscalculated how close the audience was to the stage and fell smack dab onto the concrete floor.”

  Drew gasped, equally shocked and amused at the picture she’d painted. “Jesus. Are you serious?”

  Her lips curved upwards with a ghost of a smile. It was something, even if it wasn’t the usual mega-watt smile she gave him when they used to hang out together. “It’s true. I couldn’t make something like that up. Broke his arm in two places.”

  “Ouch.” He winced, thinking of the pain Kenny must have been in. “So he’ll be laid up for a while?”

  “Looks like it,” she said. Then, without warning, her tone turned frosty again, and the laughter vanished from her eyes. “Well, we should get started. Do you feel comfortable with all the songs?”

  “Yeah. I could do them in my sleep,” he said, then frowned. “Did that sound cocky?”

  “No. Just confident.” Her unreadable eyes roamed over his face. “Wally wants us to do a duet.”

  “I know.”

  He’d taken a look at the sheet music and recognized the song immediately. Anybody who’d ever attended a wedding in the last twenty years would probably be aware of the hit ballad that was popular in the early ‘80s. It was a nice song, and one that would suit his and Jessie’s harmonies to a tee.

  “I’m not sold on the idea, but he seems to think it’ll be good for the CMT taping.”

  “Whatever you decide is fine with me.” He brushed his hair back from his eyes and held her gaze. “I miss talking to you, Jessie,” he said, unable to stop himself.

  Her eyes flickered with some unknown emotion, which vanished as quickly as it came.

  “We should get to work. Time’s a wastin’.” And with that, she turned her back on him, moved to the center mic near the front of the stage and never looked back.

  Chapter Three

  Jessie smiled as she admired her stylist’s handiwork in the bathroom mirror. “Nikki. You do great work.” She ran her fingers through her artfully tousled hair. “You know the best thing about being on tour?”

  “Room service?” Nikki said, as she stowed the various hair products away in her large satchel. “Free Wi-Fi in the hotel?”

  Jessie chuckled. “Neither. It’s that you’re here to do my hair every day. It’s such a luxury.”

  “And one you could afford to have back in Nashville.” Nikki shot her a wry smile. “If you were so inclined.”

  “That would cost a fortune, and I can’t in good conscience justify that kind of expense. Not to mention it’s just plain lazy.”

  “Lazy is the last word I’d use to describe you.” Nikki rested her hands on her rounded stomach and smiled. “I’m amazed at how hands-on you are when it comes to your career. Most country stars have a large entourage to cater to their every whim. But you keep it simple.”

  “Simple is better.” Jessie rose from the chair and moved to opposite end of the bathroom to the large closet. She pulled open the mirrored doors.

  Simple living was actually an excuse for the real reason why she didn’t spend in excess, or live in a huge mansion, or have more than one vehicle. She had more than enough money for all of those things, but instead of spending her earnings on luxuries, she paid her employees well, gave Uncle Sam his fair share, supported a charity she believed in, and set aside a modest allowance to live on each month. The rest went into the bank, where, except for one very important monthly payment, she didn’t touch it. She never wanted to go back to the life she led before Wally had discovered her busking at the Memphis Farmers Market, and as long as she had money in her savings account, she never would.

  “What are you doing after the tour is over?” Jessie asked, as she surveyed the clothes hanging in the closet with a critical eye.

  Wally had arranged another meet-and-greet with the contest winners of a different radio station, as well as a few local dignitaries. Tonight she wanted to look polished yet approachable. She pulled her current favorite dress—a sapphire blue sheath with an embroidered overlay—from the closet and turned to look at Nikki. “Any special plans with that handsome husband of yours?”

  Nikki’s snort was anything but ladylike. “He wishes. I’m gonna collapse on the couch and sleep like the dead until the baby is born.” Her grin was as impish as the pixie haircut she favored. “A five month nap sounds like heaven right about now.”

  Jessie laughed. “Have I thanked you for sticking with me until the end of the tour?”

  “You’re lucky we only have three more weeks or I’d be outta here so fast your head would spin.” Nikki rubbed her belly, her palm moving in a slow circular rotation. “Hey, is Drew gonna close out the tour with us?”

  “I—I’m not sure.” Jessie’s fingers tightened on the hanger. “Maybe.”

  “It’s great having him back. I like Kenny and all, but he’s not half as good as Drew. And he was always showing off. I wasn’t surprised when he pulled that dumb-ass move and broke his arm.”

  “That’s Kenny for you,” Jessie said, glancing over her shoulder as she left the bathroom. “A legend in his own mind.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Nikki followed her. “Have you decided on your outfits for Friday night?”

  “Not yet.” She laid the dress on the bed, grateful that Nikki had dropped the subject of Drew.

  Now if only she could forget about him. All through rehearsal she’d been acutely aware of him standing behind her. Stickler that she was, she usually loved the rehearsal process. But not today. Not with Drew looking so freaking gorgeous. His golden brown hair was shorter, and he’d shaved his goatee, yet he’d gotten even hotter over the past four months.

  She wasn’t the only one who appreciated how Drew filled out his T-shirt and rocked a faded pair of Levi’s. She’d seen Tara and Renee discreetly checking him out during rehearsal. The hot stab of jealousy that followed took her by surprise—probably because she’d never cared enough about any guy to actually get jealous. But this was Dre
w. The first guy in years she’d dared to let penetrate the thick shell she’d built around her heart; the first guy she’d seriously considered sleeping with in ages. Oh, and wouldn’t the media have a field day with that tidbit of information if it ever got out? For some reason they believed that she’d slept with every guy she was photographed with.

  “What about the short, white fringe?” Nikki suggested. “I love how it shimmers when you move. I bet it would look amazing on TV. And since you have the best legs in the business, you should flaunt them. I know I would.”

  Jessie turned from the bed and smiled at the woman she’d initially been wary of, but whom she soon discovered had a heart of gold and a maternal streak a mile wide. “Carrie Underwood has the best legs in the business, not me.”

  Nikki shook her head and shot her an exasperated look. “Why is it so hard for you to accept a compliment?”

  “Just trying to stay humble,” Jessie shot back with practiced ease. As much as she liked Nikki, dropping her guard any lower was a scary proposition. She’d learned the hard way to keep her feelings to herself.

  Nikki smiled and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  After Nikki retrieved her cases from the bathroom and went back to her own room, Jessie moved to the window and pushed the curtain aside to admire the view.

  The neon lights blurred as her thoughts turned to Drew. Although she’d prepared herself, seeing him earlier today had been a shock to her system. She’d missed him like crazy, but she hadn’t been aware of how much until she looked smack dab into those soulful blue eyes of his. Damn it. Why did he affect her so?

  Stupid question. She knew exactly why. It was because out of all the guys she’d ever met, he was the only one who had never tried to take advantage of her. Even when she’d been drunk as hell at the MC one night a little over a year ago. It was just before he’d started working for her, and she threw herself at him without any shame at all. Surprisingly, he turned her down. Any other guy would have taken what she so freely tried to offer without a second thought. But not Drew. He didn’t know why she’d been drinking that night, and he didn’t ask. Instead, he drove her home, saw her inside, and made her a pot of coffee before leaving. Never once had he looked at her with condemnation or judgment. Instead, his eyes had been filled with care and concern.

  That was the night she decided he might be someone she could become friends with. And it had been the major reason she’d agreed to let Wally hire him for the short tour of smaller venues she’d selected to reach the fans who couldn’t make it to, or afford, the larger arenas.

  During the six months he’d played with her and the band, she began to trust him. Unlike a few other guys she’d met, he didn’t seem impressed with her fame, or her money. He’d never once asked her to help him with his career, nor did he ask her to listen to one of his demo CDs. Hell, she never even knew he sang regularly at the MC until she dropped by one night and saw him up on the stage. She stood in the shadows and listened to him sing with only his acoustic guitar for accompaniment. His voice, warm and rich, and laced with just the slightest hint of his Tennessee roots, had filled her with indescribable yearning.

  He had no clue that she was there watching him, yet it seemed as though she was the only person in the room, and it felt as though he was singing directly to her. Why no one had offered him a record deal boggled her mind. But what really shocked her was that later, when she told him she’d heard him sing that night at the MC and wanted to help him with his career, he’d flat-out turned her down.

  So it had surprised the holy heck out of her when he offered to help her with a song she’d been working on and was having the dickens of a time with. For some reason, the lyrics weren’t flowing and she’d been at her wit’s end. Thanks to Drew’s suggestions, she’d found the right hook, and the song Hearts on Fire, which was on her current album of the same name, had shot up the charts, where it was still number one after eleven weeks.

  After that, they spent a lot of time together talking about music, watching television and just…hanging out. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but one day, as she looked at him, her heart had filled with a strange and powerful emotion. At first, she wasn’t sure what it was, then it hit her like a runaway freight train; she’d fallen for Drew Carmichael.

  It took her a week to work up the courage to tell him how she felt, especially since she wasn’t sure if he felt the same. There were times when she’d catch him watching her with a raw intensity that just about melted her panties, but he never made a move on her. And the one night she’d been able to coax him on stage with her at the MC, she’d never felt so connected to another human being in her life. It scared her, and thrilled her, all at the same time. He’d felt it too. She’d seen it—plain as day—in those beautiful blue eyes of his.

  Her nerves had been stretched as tight as a drum later that same night as she stood at the door of his apartment. She’d almost blurted it out when he opened the door, but then she saw Hannah, and it was more than obvious that they’d been hitting the sheets. In that awful, horrible moment, all she wanted to do was curl up into a tiny ball and disappear off the face of the earth. Her chest ached as she made up some stupid excuse as to why she’d stopped by, and then she turned, walked away, and did her best to avoid his calls and texts until she left on her tour a week later.

  Despite all that, here he was, saving her and Wally’s ass. Which once again proved the one thing in this life she knew to be true: Drew Carmichael was one of the good ones. Hannah Landry was one lucky girl.

  Jessie sighed and allowed the curtain to fall back into place. She had to get Drew out of her system. Mooning over him when she should be getting dressed was pointless.

  Squaring her shoulders, she banished him from her thoughts and moved to the bed. She shrugged out of her robe, slipped on the blue dress and was struggling with the zipper when a knock on the door of her suite startled her.

  “Be right there!” she called out, as she padded barefoot out of the bedroom. “Perfect timing,” she said, opening the door. Her mouth gaped open. She’d been expecting Wally, but it was Drew who stood in the hallway. Then, obviously mistaking her shocked silence as an invitation, he brushed past her and entered the room, leaving the clean, fresh scent of his soap in his wake.

  “Wally had something important he had to deal with, so he asked me to escort you to the meet-and-greet,” he said.

  “That’s what I have a bodyguard for.” Jessie closed the door, then reached behind her to find the zipper pull. “Damn it all to hell,” she muttered, after several futile attempts to grasp it.

  “Need some help?” Drew asked, his voice was tinged with amusement. “I’m pretty good with zippers and stuff.”

  “I’ll just bet you are.” She let out a frustrated groan and stamped her foot. “Oh, all right,” she said, and closed the short gap between them. As she halted in front of him, she tried her best not to be affected by the perfect symmetry of his face, or to think about what the other “stuff” he claimed to be good at might be.

  As she stood before him, she took the opportunity to take the sight of him in. Under his dark sport coat, he wore a light blue shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. His collar was open just enough to reveal the tanned skin of his neck and the thin leather necklace he always wore. The small round medallion that hung from it looked like some sort of symbol, but she didn’t recognize it, and he’d never mentioned whether or not it held any special significance.

  His gaze roamed over her face and the slight smile that quirked his mouth was on the devilish side. “Turn around.” His soft commanding voice sent a tingle up her spine.

  Obediently, she turned and slipped her hands under her hair and lifted it up. Her breath came a little faster as he tugged the zipper upwards. “There’s a clasp,” he said, swearing softly as he fumbled with it.

  “I thought you said you were good with zippers and stuff.”

  “I am.” She felt his warm breath on the nape of her neck, t
hen the brush of his thumb over her skin, and shivered. “There. Got it,” he said with pride. “I told you I was good.”

  “It’s a zipper, not brain surgery,” Jessie said sardonically, as she let go of her hair and turned around to face him. Without her shoes on, she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. “When did you shave your goatee?” She reached up to touch his chin, but then she realized what she was doing and dropped her hand. “You look…nice.”

  “So do you.”

  His husky voice melted her insides.

  She stepped around him and hurried to the door, anxious to put some space between them. What he was doing to her equilibrium was so not good.

  “Well, now that I’m dressed, I guess we should get going.”

  “Jessie.”

  “Yes?” She turned to look at him.

  “I think you’re forgetting something.”

  She tilted her head and frowned. “What?”

  He pointed to her feet. “Your shoes.”

  “Son of a bitch,” she muttered, as she stalked toward the bedroom. She’d lost her damn mind, and it was all Drew Carmichael’s fault.

  Drew was wired. He always was after a show. But there had been no show tonight. What had him on edge and ready to jump out of his skin was how fucking hot Jessie had looked in that blue dress of hers.

  From the very first moment they’d crossed paths at the Music City Saloon a little over a year ago, he’d been aware of her potent sexuality, but tonight, he hadn’t been able to keep his reaction in check. His dick had gone from half-mast to harder than a rock from the time he’d walked into her suite to the moment he zipped her sexier-than-hell dress.