Country Nights

My gaze fell upon the soft skin of her long neck, and I imagined pressing my fingers into the little indentation just beneath her jaw as I claimed her mouth. It was definitely on my agenda for the week.

She shifted uncomfortably as I undressed, her eyes snapping to the wall behind me and then to the floor. I slipped on a fresh t-shirt emblazoned with my likeness on it and a list of tour dates on the back as required by my management.

“I’ve got to go sign some things and meet some nice folks,” I said, “but I’ll be back. You sticking around?”

She glanced at the diamond-encrusted watch that wrapped around her delicate wrist and lifted her eyebrows. “It’s getting late. I should head to the hotel and meet you in the morning. I didn’t realize these shows went so late.”

“Whoa, whoa.” I placed my hand out. “You’re staying with me. At the Mason Ranch. I made that clear to your producer.”

Dakota stood up, smoothing her hands down her pants and lifting her chained purse strap over her shoulder. “I booked a hotel. Thank you kindly for your offer, but I won’t be staying at your house.”

She stepped toward me, but there wasn’t enough room between the door and me for her to leave yet.

“Then the interview’s not happening.”

Her jaw hung slightly, suspended in animation. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.” I smirked.

“I’m here for just a few days,” she said, her tone inching into incredulous territory. “You’re telling me that if I don’t sleep at your place, I don’t get the interview?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

Her face puckered as resentment boiled in her eyes, almost turning them a shade of dark, indigo blue. She lifted her chin, her neck corded and jaw clenched as she forced it all away and replaced it with a smile across her ruby lips. “You have a lot of nerve leaving me with no choice like that.”

She pushed past me, our shoulders grazing and igniting a spark of unapologetic tension between us. Inhaling a lungful of a perfume reminiscent of sweet hay and fresh wild flowers, I said, “I have nothing to lose.”

Dakota gripped the door, and I listened as she released a deep breath.

“Careful out there, Kota. Those fans’ll eat you alive once they see you coming out of my dressing room looking all pretty like that.” I turned to place my hand over hers before she had a chance to leave. “Let me go out first. Distract ‘em. You can sneak out in a few minutes.”

“Fine.” She stepped back, crossing her arms across her chest and gripping her notebook in the process. Her eyes softened ever so slightly. “But I am going to my hotel tonight. I’ll come over tomorrow.”

It was good to see some things hadn’t changed over the years. She was still as stubborn as they came. She’d always been that way. Anyway, it was her loss. There wasn’t anything better than waking up with the sunrise and a view overlooking rolling green hills.

Our family farm sprawled thousands of lush, green Kentucky acres under a cotton candy blue Kentucky sky. Lined with thousands of sugar maples, sycamores, and sweetgum trees and anchored by the big white farmhouse in which I’d grown up, there was no place on earth more sacred to me than the Mason Ranch.

“I’m not calling you Coco.” Her snotty new nickname tasted like sour milk in my mouth. “Just so we’re clear. You’re still Dakota to me.”

Her brows met in the middle and her lips parted as if she were going to fire back at me and then changed her mind.

I dragged the palm of my hand across my jawline, drinking in one last good look at her before I threw myself to the wolves.

I wanted to make things right.

I wanted to make up for all the ways I’d hurt her.

I wanted her back. The old her.

And by God, I was going to get her.





Chapter Four





I used the pad of my ring finger to dab eye cream over the dark circles that had sprung up overnight. Sleeping in a strange place and seeing Beau the night before had spun me into a heightened state of anxiety that no amount of Ativan, hotel blackout curtains, or complementary chamomile tea could remedy.

“So, how’d it go?” I set my phone on the counter and turned on the speaker as my sister’s voice echoed into the quiet space of my hotel bathroom. “What’s he like now?”

I capped my eye cream and patted on some heavy-duty concealer before squeezing in a few eye drops to whiten the whites of my fatigued stare. “He’s…different.”

“Different how?”

“Assertive? Commanding? I don’t know. I mean his presence sort of sets off this buzz of energy around anyone who comes into contact with him. People go ballistic when he walks by and women literally faint and cry and fall to their knees.”

“Over Beau?!” Addison laughed. I supposed it seemed humorous, given the fact that she’d known him since she was a bratty little teenager and he was my hot, older boyfriend who’d come around and tease her for fun. I envied her inability to see him in this new light of his that shined so bright it nearly blinded me. “Maybe I should start listening to country music now. You know, I never really got into it out of respect for you.”

“Whatever, Addison. You’ve never liked country music.” I laughed, shaking my head as I dabbed on some foundation.

“Neither did you,” she razzed. It wasn’t completely true. I liked Beau’s music, at least back before the stars aligned and people started noticing his talent. He’d performed countless private concerts for me sitting in the back of his truck with his guitar in his lap as we hung out under a starry Kentucky sky. His voice was rustic yet grounded in pure Americana. His mouth and fingers worked in tandem to produce the most breathtaking music my young ears had ever heard, and everything about it was innately effortless. He was special, even back then. “What’s your plan today?”

“I thought I’d stop and get coffee before going over to Beau’s.” I’d do just about anything to prolong the inevitable and buy a little more time. My stomach whirred and my vision blurred at the mere thought of seeing him again. I’d been able to swallow the majority of my nerves the night before – I just hoped I could do it again. And again and again. I just had to make it until Wednesday without letting him seep into the cracks of my splintered heart.

“Let me guess, Daylight Coffee?” Addison’s voice grew muffled before she returned. “Anyway, that’s Wilder. We have a finalization meeting with the bridal florist in a half hour, so I better go. Call me if you need me, okay?”



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