His lips spread wide. “Are you writing it about me?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. You’ll just have to find out when you hear it on the radio.”
“How are you going to write your music? You don’t have your guitar.”
He had a point. Mine was still at the house I never wanted to go back to. “I’ll figure it out.”
He winked and slowly pulled out of me. “I got you covered, princess,” he said, getting to his feet. Slipping on his jeans, he handed me the T-shirt he had stuffed in his back pocket. “You might need this.”
“Hello? Blake, you in there?” Tyla called out.
“Shit,” he hissed. Grabbing my shirt and bra, he tossed them to me and rushed out of the stall. I quickly wiped off with his shirt and threw my clothes on while he distracted her. The rake was just outside the stall so I fetched it and pretended to work.
“Hey girl, what’s up?” Tyla said. I turned and smiled at her, knowing my cheeks were bright red. Blake walked by and winked before disappearing out the other side of the barn.
I wiped my brow on the bottom of my T-shirt and realized it was on the wrong way. “Not much, just helping Blake clean these stalls,” I said.
She snorted. “Uh-huh. I bet you were. You might want to tell that lie to someone who believes you. I can tell when a girl’s been thoroughly fucked.” She pointed at my clothes. “Your shirt’s on wrong and you have hay all up in your hair. All I can say is, it’s about damn time.”
Laughing, I said, “Don’t I know it.”
“What are you doing?” Blake asked, taking a seat beside me. He glanced down at the papers in my lap and leaned over.
“Hey!” I shrieked, covering them with my hand. “No peeking. It’s a new song. I can’t let anyone see it until after it’s done.” After the day I’d had with Blake, and riding with Tyla, I had never felt more inspired to write.
“Will you sing it for me?”
Smiling, I folded up my lyrics and tucked them down the side of my chair. “Maybe. But I never sing new songs in front of people, except in the studio. I have this fear everyone will hate it.”
His brows furrowed. “Why do you care? You’re successful already. Your fans love you.”
“It’s not that simple,” I said, turning to him. “When I write my songs, it’s a part of me, a part of my soul. The thought of people hating them scares me. That’s why I never sing newly written songs at my concerts.”
“I can understand that, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” He kissed my cheek and got to his feet. “Wait here, I have something for you.”
I wondered what it could be. The answer came when he walked out the back door. Eyes wide, I stood and gaped at the beauty in his hands. “Oh my God, it’s amazing. Is it yours?”
He handed me the most beautiful guitar I’d ever seen in my life. It didn’t even look used.
“I’m not musically inclined. Give me a gun and I’m good to go. It’s actually my grandfather’s. He fiddled around with it, thinking he’d have time to learn, but it never happened. I figured you could have it.”
“Have it?” I gasped.
He shrugged. “Why not? I’m not going to use it. He’d be happy to know I gave it to someone who will.”
I ran my hands down the shiny wood. It was better than the one I had at home. “Thank you, Blake. This means a lot.”
Taking a seat in front of me, he nodded toward it. “Go ahead and try it out. I’d love to hear you play.”
I’d never played one on one with anyone other than my mother. She used to love listening to me play. Taking a deep breath, I sat down on the edge of my seat and strummed my fingers across the chords. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the sound. The entire time I played, Blake never took his eyes off of me. I wanted to sing for him, to let him hear his song, but I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t anywhere near ready yet.
“Do you think that’s a good beat?” I asked.
“Is that the one to your new song?”
I nodded. “I think so. It’s different from my other songs, but I think it’ll work.”
He leaned over and placed his hands on my thighs. “I don’t exactly listen to country music, but I think it kicks ass.”
“So you live out here, parading around in your cowboy getup, and you don’t listen to country music?”
He shrugged. “What can I say? It’s the look that gets the ladies, not the lame music.”
“You’re such an ass,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Hey,” he said, his gaze serious. “I didn’t say your stuff was lame. I like that you write your songs based on the people you care about. It’s real. Your music has emotion to it.”
“Thanks. I like to make people feel.”
A small smile splayed across his lips. “You want to help me feel?”
Giggling, I set the guitar down and kissed him. “I think I might enjoy that. Where do you suggest I start?”
“Oh, I don’t know . . . maybe in the shower?” His smile alone turned me on. He had those bedroom eyes that would be perfect for magazines.
Biting my lip, I grabbed his hands. “My shower or yours?”
He chuckled. “I don’t know, I think we should give them both a go.”
“Okay, but first I need to call Felicity. She expects me around noon, that way she knows to pick up the phone. Apparently, the media keeps harassing her for a story.”
Blake shook his head. “Do you deal with that shit every day?”
“Not like that. There aren’t too many people who have my phone number. It’s going to be interesting when I get back though. My mailbox is probably full.”
I wanted to talk to him about what we were going to do when I left, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment. Everything was all new and vulnerable. The odds of the relationship working was stacked against us, but I had to believe we could make it work. Blake wasn’t the type to balk at a challenge. Hopefully, he would see us as one and try to prove the world wrong.
When we got to his room, he disappeared into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I grabbed my phone and dialed Felicity’s number. It rang and rang, but then she finally picked up and all I could hear were a bunch of people in the background, talking and laughing.
“Felicity, you there? It sounds like you’re having a party. What’s going on?” I said.
“That’s because she is,” someone else answered.
Gasping, I threw a hand over my mouth and sat on the bed. “Nick? Is it really you?”
He chuckled, then hissed in pain. “Yeah, it’s me. Remind me not to laugh though. You’d think after two weeks of healing, I’d be up and moving around.”
Blake leaned against the door frame, his body tense. When I looked at him, he stared back at me, but then averted his gaze and left the room. I wanted to go after him, but I couldn’t.
“I miss you,” Nick murmured in my ear.
“I miss you too. I hate that I couldn’t be there for you. Everyone thought it best I left. As soon as they catch the guy, I’m coming home.”
“What have you been doing all this time?” he asked.
All I could think about was Blake, but it wasn’t the time to tell him about that. “Things you could never imagine me doing,” I said. “But, I have to admit, I love where I’m at. When everything goes back to normal, I need to see about buying some property out here. It’s been good for the creativity . . . and it’s helped keep everything that’s been going on off my mind.”
He sighed. “I heard about Scott. Everything about that night happened so fast; I can’t remember all of it. I’m sorry about what happened to him. He was a good guy.”
My chest tightened. “It’ll be strange going home and not having him there.”
“I know. You’ll still have me though.”
“And me,” someone yelled in the background.
Nick chuckled again and cursed. “Stop making me laugh, fuckheads,” he growled.