Cowboy in the Making

by Julie Benson

  “No one is replacing me as the lead singer in this band,” Emma said in a low, calm voice, reminding him of the stillness in the eye of a hurricane.

  “I’m not saying replace you,” Luke backpedaled, uncertainty in his voice. “We’d just change things a little, expand our song choices with Jamie singing the lead every once in a while.”

  “You saw the comments online. Women love him,” Grayson said. “I think Luke’s right.”

  Combined, the two right now didn’t have the brains of a scarecrow. Deciding to step in before Emma set them on fire with her death-ray stare, Jamie said, “I don’t want any part of singing lead.” He refused to hurt Emma like that. When Luke looked as if he might continue pleading his case, Jamie continued, “That’s nonnegotiable.”

  His stern no-nonsense tone left everyone clear that the discussion had ended. Out of his peripheral vision he caught Emma’s reaction of utter shock. Why did she find what he’d said so hard to believe? Had she really thought he’d come in to her band, take over and shove her aside?

  I don’t date musicians. They’re self-centered and about as reliable as a fortune-teller.

  Damn. She’d dated some real winners. Starting with the guy who’d got her pregnant and bailed on her.

  Recovering from her shock, she smiled at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Now that we’ve settled that, can we get back to preparing for the concert next weekend?”

  “Are you sure you’re all okay with changing the violin parts?” he asked, still not sure. Then he almost smiled. What was he thinking? If she wasn’t happy with something everyone within three counties would know the fact.

  “I thought we’d dealt with that issue, too. We’re all okay with it.” She glanced pointedly at Luke and Grayson, who nodded. “I’m not making the offer out of pity. I truly believe it’s the best decision for the band. Now, are you in or not?”

  “I’m in. I can at least help you out until you find someone permanent.”

  “If you could agree to stay until the state fair competition that would be great. Our chances of finding someone before that don’t look good.”

  “Deal.”

  For the next couple of hours they ran through the band’s numbers with him marking the measures that gave him trouble. The vocals, the part he would’ve thought needed work, felt natural and were almost effortless.

  When they quit for the day and Luke and Grayson had gone home, Jamie turned to Emma. “I was planning on checking out a band playing at Dick’s Tavern in Longmont tonight. How about we get some dinner, talk about those songs that need modification and then listen to the band?”

  Before he even finished, she was shaking her head. “That’s not a good idea. One of the rules we have is that band members don’t socialize. We’ve found that tends to—” She paused and chewed on her lip.

  Jamie braced himself. This ought to be good. When she thought that hard, he’d discovered she was trying to decide between brutal honesty or if she should soften the blow.

  “Let’s just say having personal relationships complicates things.”

  “Is this about last night? It was just a kiss.”

  He wanted to laugh at his ridiculous comment and how he’d managed to deliver the statement with a straight face. Just a kiss? Hardly.

  “It doesn’t matter because I have plans tonight.”

  “I grew up with two sisters. I’m fluent in female speak. When a woman uses the vague ‘I have plans tonight’ comment instead of saying what her plans are, it usually means one of two things. Either she isn’t attracted to the guy, but doesn’t want to hurt his feelings, or she is attracted to him, but she’s afraid of what she feels.”

  “Then here’s the truth. I’m not interested, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  This time he did laugh. The little minx thought he wouldn’t see through her lie? Wrong. “No way are you selling me that three-legged horse.”

  She raised her eyebrow at his word choice.

  Really? He couldn’t use a Western expression? He’d spent enough time in Estes Park over the years that he’d outgrown greenhorn status. Ignoring her expression, he continued. “I know that’s not true. There was enough heat between us to make the devil sweat, and it wasn’t just on my part, or did I imagine you crawling onto my lap last night?”

  “Talk about arrogance.”

  But he noticed she didn’t deny what he’d said. “It’s not arrogant if it’s the truth.” He stepped closer, his gaze zeroing in on her as the memories of kissing her revved his body up all over again. He smiled. She stepped back. Yup, he’d pegged it right. She felt something, but it scared her.

  “I’m not going to dignify your comment by responding because there’s no way I’m going to change your mind. Wrong though you may be.”

  “What I want to know,” he said as he closed the distance between them again, “is why what you feel for me scares you.”

  Her eyes darkened and she tilted her chin up at him. He had to bite his lip to keep from smiling as she rose to the bait he’d put in front of her. “That’ll be the day, and I’ll prove how wrong you are. Seeing a band tonight is a great idea. Not only can we work on the music, we can talk about the band’s performance, the pros and cons. It’ll help you get ready for our first performance.”

  “Should I drive or do you want to?”

  “I think separate cars. That way we’re both free to leave whenever we need to.”

  He thought about pressing the issue, but a smart man knew when to walk away from the table before he lost everything he’d won. “Fine. Meet you at Dick’s Tavern.”

  Chapter Ten

  When Emma and Jamie walked into Dick’s Tavern, she vowed to prove she wasn’t that attracted to him—no way could she make either one of them believe there wasn’t any attraction. She wouldn’t touch the rest of what he’d said, that she was scared of what she felt for him, with gloves, a ten-foot pole and a shark cage. Mainly because there was no disproving the truth.

  Dick’s, while still possessing a down-home feel, was more upscale than Halligan’s. There were simple white tablecloths on the tables and less neon over the bar and stage.

  Being with Jamie tonight and working together would be a good thing. She’d spend time with him and realize what she felt with him when they sang couldn’t survive off the stage. With that gone there’d be nothing of substance left and her vision would be clear.

  But what if she didn’t find that? So what if she was attracted to him? It was probably nothing more than her body’s hormonal cravings from her dating drought. She could keep things between them professional and she could maintain control.

  She’d see he was no different than every other musician she’d known. They all craved the spotlight, and if she let him, slowly he’d start taking more of hers.

  If that’s what he wanted then why had he turned down Luke’s suggestion that he sing lead on a few songs?

  “I noticed you making notes on the music during rehearsal,” Emma said once she and Jamie were seated.

  “A few places gave me trouble, but I think I can change the rhythm a little or the notes without changing the integrity of what you wrote.”

  She nodded and opened her menu. Okay, what should she do now? And she thought first dates were awkward. When was the last time she’d had a first date? That would’ve been with Clint. What? Almost three years ago?

  This wasn’t a date, she told herself. A business meeting with food, followed by studying a band. That’s what this was.

  Simple.

  Right. Just like milking a bull.

  “I’ll work on making the changes tomorrow,” Jamie said.

  “We’ll have to put in a lot of rehearsal time before the state fair, but if you work on the music on your own, I think we can be ready.”

/>   “Just let me know the rehearsal times. I’ll clear things with Mick.”

  Awkward silence stretched until the perky waitress dressed in jeans and a two-sizes-too-small Dick’s Tavern T-shirt popped up at their table to take their orders. Emma couldn’t miss the woman giving Jamie the once-over.

  “This band’s pretty good,” Emma said once they’d placed their order and Miss Perky had bounced off. “Though they don’t have a fiddle player, you can still learn a lot from them. Watch for how they move on the stage and how they connect with the audience.”

  Yeah. Because Jamie needs so much help in those two areas.

  “Do you ever think about anything but work?”

  “The country music business is very competitive. I need to stay focused.” Emma reached for her water glass to give her something to do.

  “There’s focused, and there’s not having a life outside work.”

  Emma cringed. There was that phrase again. What was it with everyone lately? “Tell me you weren’t just as driven when you were with the Philharmonic.”

  “You got me there. I was, but hurting my hand’s given me a new perspective.”

  When he flexed his hand she regretted bringing up the subject. What would she do if she couldn’t play the guitar or sing anymore? What else would she have in her life? Not a whole lot, but wasn’t that what she wanted? Sacrifices had to be made for her career, to move forward to the next level.

  Wanting to lighten up the conversation, she said, “Growing up with a house full of brothers was noisy, wild and messy. I wanted to hang around with them, but they were always trying to ditch me. What was it like growing up with only sisters?”

  “The worst thing was the bathroom. Not only did I have to schedule time to use it, but by the time I got in, the hot water was usually gone.”

  “That’s rough.”

  “Tell me about it. We lived in Pennsylvania. Do you know how awful a cold shower is in the winter?”

  “I bet it gets the blood flowing.”

  “When it doesn’t give a guy a heart attack.”

  “Come on. Quit whining. It made you tough,” Emma said with a grin.

  The waitress brought their food, eyed Jamie and asked if there was anything else he needed. Not them, but just him. As though Emma was chopped liver or invisible. Maybe she was invisible chopped liver. Anyway, when Jamie said no, they were good, without even glancing at the woman, the obviously disappointed server flitted off.

  Interesting.

  “Finally I decided I’d sacrifice sleep for hot water, and set my alarm for oh-dark-thirty to get up before my sisters. What about you? What was the worst part of being the only girl?”

  “They used to climb trees to get away from me.”

  “How long did it take you to learn to climb one, too?”

  “How come you’re so sure that’s what I did? Maybe I gave up and quit trying to keep up with them.”

  “You? No way. You’d see that as admitting defeat. You’re driven and when you set your mind to something there’s no stopping you.”

  The fact that he had her so well pegged both irritated and pleased her. “It took me every day after school for a whole week, and cost me more scraped knees and arms than I could count, but I did it.”

  * * *

  AFTER DINNER THEY moved to a smaller table closer to the stage. When the band started playing, Emma relaxed now that she had a comfortable subject to focus on. “See how the lead singer connects visually with the audience? He nods at people and smiles when there’s a break in the vocals. He’s also good about moving around on the stage.”

  “The guy’s all over the place.”

  “He doesn’t want either side of the audience to feel slighted.”

  “Since I’m not the lead singer, I won’t have to worry about that.”

  “Oh, yes, you will. I don’t want all the women trampling each other because they want to get a better vantage point to ogle you,” she teased. “What we need to do is occasionally have you and Luke switch sides. That way no one will feel slighted.”

  “You really think about stuff like this?”

  “Details matter. Those subtleties can make the difference between getting stuck playing local clubs and breaking out. Have you thought about what you’re going to wear for the concert?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  She shook her head. “There are more options than you’d think. One is the T-shirt and jeans, cowboy style. There’s the more plaid Western shirt and jeans look. There’s also—”

  “You are not going to give me a how-to-dress class. Let’s dance.”

  The word yes almost popped out of her mouth. Almost. She loved dancing, and Jamie would be a great partner. The man could move.

  How long had it been since she’d gone dancing? Most weekend nights she performed with the band. On weeknights she had her day job to think about. What would it be like to let go of being cautious, of not thinking everything through ten times before acting? Of just living a little?

  Too tempting. Too wonderful. Too scary to consider. Business meeting with food and a band. Remember?

  “We can’t see what the band’s doing if we’re on the dance floor.”

  “Come on. For the past twenty minutes you’ve been analyzing the band’s every move and teaching a class. Time for recess.”

  “I’m trying to prepare you for the concert.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the effort, but I need a break so everything you’ve said can soak in. Otherwise information is going to leak out my ears.”

  His comment made her smile. She had given him a lot to process. She glanced at the people on the dance floor doing the “Cotton-Eyed Joe.” “You can line dance?”

  “I took a class. A friend said it would be a good way for us to meet women.”

  “That sounds like something my brothers would say.”

  “Hey, there’s always got to be a payoff for the hard work.” He pushed his chair back from the table. “You need to lighten up a little and have some fun.”

  Fun? What is this fun of which you speak? “I have fun. You saw me at Halligan’s with Avery and Stacy.” She wouldn’t mention that before that Friday night it had been more than two months since she’d gone out with friends.

  “Fine. I concede. You don’t need to have any fun, but take pity on me, because I sure do.” When she hesitated, he continued, “Don’t turn me into the lonely guy at the bar who has to ask a stranger to dance.”

  He really thought that line would work? She’d seen most of the women in the place eyeing him since they’d walked in, as they tried to decipher her and Jamie’s relationship. Were they out on a date? Friends? Coworkers?

  Join the club, girls. I’m still trying to figure that out, too.

  “You wouldn’t ask someone else to dance and leave me sitting here. That’s not your style,” she countered.

  “Wanna bet?”

  Her gaze locked with his as she tried to decide whether or not to call his bluff. Avery’s voice popped into Emma’s head. Are you so sure your life doesn’t need shaking up?

  Shaking it up would be one thing. Putting it into a blender and turning the machine on frappé was something else. She had a feeling getting involved with Jamie would be the latter.

  But what could a couple of dances hurt? Especially line dancing. No touching involved there. “Let’s see if you can keep up with me, city boy.”

  For most of the next set, Jamie didn’t keep up with her. He about left her in his dust. Through the “Watermelon Crawl,” the “Copperhead Road” and “The Slide.” And she’d talked to him about how he should move onstage. She felt more than a bit stupid over having done that.

  “Not bad,” she said when the band switched to playing a slow song.


  “For a city boy?”

  “For anybody. You’ve got some moves.”

  He leaned toward her. “You have no idea.”

  Boy, she’d stepped right into that one. The question was how did she get out of this mess?

  His gaze locked on hers, hot, steamy and inviting as he moved toward her. When he stood inches in front of her, he slipped his arm around her waist.

  A little voice in her head told her to run, not walk, to the nearest exit.

  Despite knowing it wasn’t the best idea, she stepped into his arms.

  * * *

  JAMIE SMILED, AND THOUGHT this was what he’d been waiting for all night—to hold Emma.

  Funny thing. The more they’d rehearsed tonight, and the more they connected onstage, the more distant she became when the music stopped. He swore he saw her withdrawing into herself, while he felt the opposite. The time he spent with her left him wanting, and not just physically.

  Nothing in his life had ever felt as right as being with Emma. He could be himself. He found a serenity with her that he’d never found with anyone else.

  She leaned to the right to see around him. “You should check out the band. They have a completely different presence when they play a slow song like this one.”

  “Why are you pushing me away?”

  Her gaze jerked back to his. When she opened her mouth, he held up a hand. “Don’t bother to deny it because I won’t believe you.”

  “You don’t beat around an issue, do you?”

  “What point is there? All avoiding something does is create confusion, hurt feelings, and it makes us miss out on some great experiences.”

  “What makes you think I’m pushing you away?”

  “Except when we’re singing, you’re distant at rehearsal. And when we start talking about anything but work, you get nervous.”

  “It’s not you, it’s me.”

  He laughed. “I can’t believe you said that. It’s got to be the oldest cop-out line in the book. You think too much. This is pretty simple. I enjoy your company, and I thought you enjoyed mine.”