Mustang Belle: A small town, rock star, cowboy romance (Mustang Ranch)

by Eva Haining

  “You heard it in the stadium.”

  “Yeah, but I’d rather hear it when you’re right here next to me.”

  “You’re going to make me blush and mess up.”

  “You were just out in front of a crowd of tens of thousands of people. Why would you be nervous playing for me?”

  “Because their opinions don’t matter to me. Yours does.” She’s a smooth talker. I sit back and listen as she begins to strum the guitar strings as quietly as possible. Her words however whispered, slam into my chest like a Mack truck. I’m entranced by her and the way her lips move as she sings each line with such reverence. She doesn’t look at me, closing her eyes, immersing herself in the music. She’s stunning.

  Belle doesn’t stop to listen to praise when she strums the final chord, launching into song after song. Some I know, some I’ve never heard before, but every last one of them is beautiful, just like her. I wish I were able to create something for her. A love song that told her how I feel. I’m about as talented as a frog at the bottom of a swimming pool. Coming here is my show of love for Belle, and hopefully, from this point on, she won’t question how I feel about her or worry that I have any unresolved feelings for Maisie. That was a long time ago now—water under the bridge of Kingsbury Falls.

  I sit in enraptured silence as Belle plays for me until she’s too tired to keep singing. Instead, she curls up into my lap. “Why don’t you go lie down. I can hang on the couch. You need your sleep.” I tuck a stray tendril of hair behind her ear and lower my lips to caress her cheek.

  “I just want to be here in your arms. I don’t want to miss a minute if we only have twenty-four hours. I’ll just close my eyes for a few minutes. A power nap.”

  “Okay, darlin’. Just rest. I’ve got you.” She’s a tiny little bundle, huddled up in my arms, her head resting over my heart. I concentrate on letting my breath even out and my pulse to slow, lulling her into a short slumber. I don’t close my eyes or let myself sleep. I want to savor every minute of her in my arms. The warmth of her skin and the curves of her body against mine have me wanting to do so much more than sleep with her and make love until we’re a breathless tangle of limbs.

  I want to change her name, to build her the home she never had growing up, to give her a family and a place where her heart can rest easy in the knowledge that I support her dreams and aspirations for the future.

  I guess I’ve got my work cut out for me. As she lies sleeping in my arms, a plan starts to form in the back of my mind, but it can wait until I get back to Kingsbury Falls. For now, I’m content with the girl of my dreams in my arms and a day to love her before I have to leave.

  Eighteen

  BELLE

  “The Accademia Gallery is just round this corner.” Knox has been laughing at the way I read a map all morning.

  “Why are we doing this with a paper map? I can pull it up on my phone, and it’ll be a hell of a lot quicker.”

  “Do you have any idea how expensive data is out here? I once came back from a tour to a thousand-dollar phone bill. Since then, I am strictly a paper map girl when I’m outside the states.”

  “Okay, but I can use mine. I don’t care about the bill. And didn’t you just sign a huge recording deal?”

  “Yes, but that won’t be lucrative for a while yet. If the album does well and it gets a lot of radio play, then I’ll start seeing some healthy royalty checks regularly. Right now, I’m living off the signing ‘bonus.’ I have the apartment to pay for, so no, I am not running up a huge bill. Even when the money does start coming in, I grudge spending a ridiculous amount of money to use a Google Map when I can buy one for five bucks.”

  “Okay, Scrooge, hand me the map.” I stick out my tongue as I hand it over. I might be an accomplished woman in many respects, but I know what I’m shit at, too. I’m woman enough to admit I suck at map reading.

  “Fine.” I slap it into his hand, and just as I do, I see the sign for the museum. I grab back the map and do a little happy dance right here in the street. “Yes! Vindication is sweet, my friend!”

  “I’ll give you this one. Timing wasn’t my friend on this argument.”

  “In your face, cowboy.” He grabs me around the waist and throws me over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, slapping my ass as he heads down the street to the museum entrance.

  “What am I getting in my face, Belle? I can think of one thing I’d love to have in my face right now.”

  “You have sex on the brain, Thomas Knox. A dirty mind.”

  “Only when it comes to you, or more aptly when it’s you coming.” A thrill runs through me at his words—a dark promise of the night ahead before we say goodbye yet again. He doesn’t set me down until we’re at the entrance, and a guard stationed at the door gives us a chilling glare. It’s like getting into trouble with your schoolteacher.

  Knox won’t let me pay for anything, doing the chivalrous cowboy thing at every turn. It’s hot as hell, but I’m not used to guys treating me this way. After the ex from hell, I stopped hitching my wagon to guys altogether. There came a point when I realized that I kept falling for the bad guy. Not even fell for—lusted after is more apt. And as long as I kept it to sex and nothing else, I was fine in the knowledge that my judgment for any future relationship is questionable at best. Then I met Thomas Knox.

  “What’s up, girl? You look annoyed. That beautiful brow of yours is furrowed so deep you could hold a dollar bill in there.”

  “What?”

  “Earth to Belle. You totally zoned out on me there.”

  “Do you ever get those moments when you feel like you’re on the outside of your life looking in?”

  “Sure.”

  “I just can’t believe I’m here in Italy with you right now. It seems like a lifetime ago that I spied this cute cowboy across the town square, who didn’t even notice me until the third time we spoke. Third time’s the charm.”

  “It’s pretty surreal that we’re here. The furthest I’d ever been up until now was to visit a cousin in Canada. I had to get a new passport to come chasing after you, girl.”

  “Then I better make it worth your while.”

  “You already have. That smile right there is the reason I get up in the morning.” We wander through the museum, and I’m excited when I find a whole exhibit on antique musical instruments. I read every word on every wall and case, letting my geek side hang out. Thankfully, Knox thinks it’s super cute.

  “This place is seriously cool.”

  “We still haven’t seen the main attraction yet.”

  “A huge naked marble man. There’s no way it’s better than all these instruments. I could hang out in here for days.”

  “Unfortunately, we don’t have days, but we still have tonight, and I plan on being the guy you’re staring at naked.”

  “Am I the naked one in the scenario? I can’t tell where your punctuation is supposed to be. I’m staring at you naked, or I’m staring at naked you?”

  “Both.”

  “Maybe we should just head back to the hotel already and make a start on that.”

  “Girl, I’m a cowboy in Italy. As much as I love our horizontal time, I actually want to get some culture under my Texas-sized belt buckle. So, I’m going to need you to keep your panties on for a few hours.”

  I fake shock and horror. “Never thought I’d hear those words coming out of your mouth.”

  “Me either.” As we turn the corner, the David is right there in front of us, but I only see it in my peripheral vision, my eyes fixed on Knox. The way he scrapes his palm over the stubble on his jawline never gets old. I wonder if a year from now, he’ll still make my stomach do somersaults every time I look at him.

  “Wow, I can’t believe the craftsmanship on this. To think that a guy did this with his own two hands is incredible.” His eyes light up as he studies every line and detail.

  “Do you ever sculpt? You make stunning furniture, I know that much, for your house and that big beautiful bed o
f yours.”

  “I’m good with wood, but I make practical stuff. This…” he tilts his head, marveling in the veins that look so realistic, you’d think they could start pumping life into this cold, hard marble. “This is art.”

  “I think you underestimate your creativity, Knox.”

  “The fact that we’re talking about me making a table or a bed in the same sentence as one of the greatest works of art throughout history is crazy, but I love that you think my stuff is good.”

  “It’s better than good. You should really consider selling it.”

  “Again, it’s not art, it is just furniture.”

  “And my songs are just music, but I get paid for them.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree. Besides, stop staring at me and look at this thing. Incredible, right?”

  “Now you want me to scrutinize this giant marble junk?”

  “Girl, where’s your culture right now?”

  “In the bed, back at the hotel.” I love the sound of his laughter.

  “Look at the art, and then I’m taking you for a romantic dinner and a walk along the riverfront. Plus, there’s a statue around here somewhere. Il Porcellino. It’s a brass hog. You rub its nose and hold a coin in its mouth. When you let the coin drop and if it goes through the grate, they say it brings good luck. I don’t believe in all that horseshit, but why not? We’re here, and I, for one, would like some good luck for the new ventures at the farm.”

  “I’m down for some good juju. Maybe it will help get a song on the radio.”

  “No, you don’t need a hog for that. I guarantee you’ll be sitting on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon in six months, talking about your stratospheric rise to fame.” I love how much faith he has in me.

  “Will you be in the wings waiting to kiss me when I come off stage?”

  “You better believe it, girl. I’m your number one fan, and nothing’s going to change that.”

  We spend another hour or so strolling through the museum before heading out for dinner. Knox was right, this place is romantic, and I’m so glad he’s here to share it with me. He’s true to his word, handing me a coin to hold in the hog’s mouth. I’m not sure if I should be happy or sad, because mine went through the grate, and his didn’t. If I believed in superstitious crap, I’d be worried that our relationship is doomed already.

  When we finally get back to the hotel, I don’t want this night to end. Today was like something from a romantic movie—laughs, kisses, dinner by candlelight, and a stroll along the side of the Arno River. But the best part of all was getting to do all of those things with the man I’m madly in love with.

  The second the door closes behind us, Knox makes good on his promise.

  “Take your clothes off, Belle. I’m about to let you ride me like a rodeo champion.”

  I’ve been back in the states for a week now and haven’t been able to spend any time with Knox. It seems so strange that the last time we were together was across an ocean on a different continent.

  Seeing him leave was hard after such a picture-perfect twenty-four hours together. Whenever we get to spend time together, it’s bittersweet. The hello is incredible and makes my heart fit to burst out of my chest, but then the goodbye makes me want to curl up with a bag of Cheetos and binge-watch rom-coms on Netflix. As I don’t have time for that shit, I just keep going. The tortured artist vibe is definitely working for me, and as the release of our first single draws closer, I’m kept busy doing interviews for small radio stations and magazines.

  If people could see what goes on behind the scenes of a rock and roll lifestyle, it would shatter the illusion, especially when that someone is me. I crawl into bed by ten and FaceTime my boyfriend every night. We talk about goofy crap and fill each other in on our days.

  I need to make it back to Kingsbury Falls for the unveiling of the new Mustang/Knox Center, but I’m going to be pressed for time.

  Our first single releases two days after the center opens. I told Stuart I have to be back in Texas for a day, and he chewed me out about it. I get that his sole focus right now is the release, and maybe it should be my only priority, but it isn’t. If you’d said that to me a year ago, I wouldn’t believe it. I ate, slept, and breathed for this deal. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for myself. But now, I find myself wanting so much more than a career.

  The amount of people who get to do their dream job is minuscule at best. I know I’m luckier than most, and I shouldn’t ask more of this life, but Knox makes me selfish in that regard.

  Today is makeover day for me. Apparently, the label wants me to look cutting edge for the single launch. They are overhauling my hair, nails, makeup, and wardrobe. I feel like Miss Congeniality. My hair is six inches shorter than it was this morning, with highlights, and my eyes are a work of art. Smokey and sexy, and as I stare at myself in the mirror, I’m barely recognizable.

  Slipping into the clothes the stylist picked out for me, this bra has given me at least an extra cup size. The shirt I’m wearing is pinned and tucked until it hugs every curve with skintight, ripped jeans and boots that make my legs look like they go on for days.

  The guys haven’t been plucked, poked, and prodded to within an inch of their lives, but I’m used to the standards being different for me than they are for them. Don’t get me wrong, they’ve got more product in their hair than a beauty queen, but it all looks so effortless and sex-mussed. If they weren’t already getting so much tail, their cocks could fall off at any minute, but the way they look right now would do it for sure.

  I don’t think of the guys that way—never have—but fuck me, they look hot as a photographer directs every muscle twitch and brooding stare.

  “Okay, Blue Bell, get in here.” Johnny gives me that smile of his—the one that always calms my fears. I’m beyond self-conscious right now and desperate to close one more button on my shirt, but every time I try, the stylist swats my hand away.

  As I walk over to the boys, they start whistling at me. “Dang, girl. Where have you been hiding the goodies all these years?”

  “I hate you right now. And don’t look at my tits, it’s weird and creepy.”

  “We can’t really look at anything else right now. They’re just out there, Blue Bell.” Johnny interjects.

  “Gross! You’re my brother.”

  “We’re not blood-related, and I’m a guy. I defy any man to see you right now and not have his gaze drawn to the promised land.”

  “I need to go and shower after that statement.” He throws his head back and laughs.

  “Just wait until lover boy catches a glimpse of these pics. He’s going to shit a brick when he sees you looking smoking hot on a billboard in Times Square.”

  “Don’t. I’m already nervous enough without thinking about my tatas being on display at Radio City.”

  Johnny pulls me into his arms. “It’s going to be great, Blue Bell. We’re finally arriving. This is our time, so enjoy it.” I let myself sink into his embrace, soothing me the way he has since we were kids.

  “Don’t move a muscle. This is a killer shot.” The photographer encroaches on our tender moment. “This is gold!” He positions Tony and David around us before instructing Johnny and me to look at the camera, all intense and brooding.

  “This hug is way too long. I love you, Blue Bell, but if your breasts push against me any longer, I’ll end up with a semi, and then I’ll have to shoot myself after we’re done here.” I can’t help but giggle.

  “Don’t make me laugh. I’m trying to be intense. This is smell-the fart-acting right here.”

  “Oh fuck, if you fart right now, I really will shoot myself.”

  “Shut up. You’re such a goober.”

  “Stop talking. I need sexy lips, smoldering eyes. Goofy isn’t hot.” We both burst out laughing, much to the photographer’s dismay.

  “Okay, we need to be serious for a moment, or we’ll be here all day locked in the most awkward hug in history. That better be your phone I feel pr
essing against my leg right now.”

  “Let’s just say that, okay? I’m mortified enough. I’ll have to bathe in Lysol when we’re done.”

  “God, Johnny. How are you sporting a chubby right now?”

  “It’s a reflex. Trust me, I’m not doing it on purpose. I’d cut off my cock if I weren’t so partial to it.”

  “I might do it for you if it keeps poking me in the leg.” Tony and David descend into a fit of guffawing at our expense, and thankfully the photographer seems to like it. Johnny and I shove each other aside, laughing so hard we almost cry.

  When we’re done posing, I head straight for the bathroom to change back into a hoodie and jeans that don’t cut off my circulation. I don’t have time to wash off the warpaint as my phone starts ringing. It’s Knox. I answer his FaceTime call and watch his eyes go wide as saucers at the sight of me.

  “Dang, you look every inch the rock star right now, girl.” His smile brightens my day.

  “Hey, you. Just finished our photo shoot. If you’d called five seconds earlier, you’d have caught me mid-change.”

  “Well, hell.”

  “And the bra these guys put me in… I could practically lick my own nipples, it pushed them so high up.”

  “Girl, you can’t say shit like that when I can’t get to you. I swear I’d give my left nut to see you do that.”

  “I like you symmetrical.”

  “So, are we still on for Wednesday?”

  “Yep. I’ll be there with bells on. Wouldn’t miss the big opening.”

  “You know it’s okay if you can’t make it, right? It is just small fry compared to what you’re doing.”

  “It’s a big deal, and I want to be there with you. Besides, then we can fly out to New York together.”

  “Booked my flight this morning. I can’t wait. Radio City, Belle, that’s huge! Not to blow my own horn, but my girlfriend is sort of amazing.”

  “Oh really? That’s funny because my boyfriend is a big deal. He’s a cowboy, and he’s basically sex on a stick.”

  “Who is he? I’m going to beat the shit out of him and keep you for myself.”