Heart Breaker (Nashville Nights #1)

Mostly he’d done it because she’d been looking up at him with such guileless longing, her breast on full display in a bra that had no business claiming to contain anything—he’d needed one of them to cool down. Maybe she wasn’t intending to give off a fuck-me-now-please vibe, but that was how he read the wide-eyed breathless expression on her face. It did a number on him and his junk.

But because fair was fair, and he genuinely didn’t want to spend days on end fighting with her, he stood up and dived into the pond next to her. She shrieked as his entrance splashed her all over again. The water was colder than he was expecting, but the shock was good for his system. It smacked the stupid right out of him. Along with his erection. When he broke the surface, he shook his head to get rid of the excess water and wiped his eyes. “Refreshing. I needed that.”

Jolene had slicked her hair back and was treading water a foot away from him. That sundress was stuck to her bra like a second skin. “You’re an idiot,” she said, but she sounded more amused than angry

That, too, was refreshing. He grinned at her. “The devil made me do it.”

“You can’t blame the devil for everything.”

“I suppose not.” Chance bobbed up and down in the pond before flipping on his back to float. The canopy of trees overhead was so green and verdant that it hid the strength of the sun, except a few rays filtering through here and there. It was one of his favorite things about Tennessee. The greenest green he’d ever done seen. Like being smothered in leaves. Jolene must have been thinking the same thing because she said in a soft voice, “We couldn’t see the forest for the trees. And everything was lost between him and me.”

And just like that, he heard the melody. “I like it.” Raising himself upright, he swam to the bank without hesitation. He needed his guitar. As he pulled himself out of the pond, water dripped everywhere, and his jeans felt heavy and uncomfortable from the soaking. The clearing where they’d been sitting was open to the sun, the grass baking in the light, so he decided to take his pants off to let them dry. He didn’t want to be distracted by denim sticking to his skin.

There was tugging and swearing, but he finally had the jeans down and kicked off. He spread them out in the sun and sat on the grass and reached for his guitar. He glanced out at Jolene, intending to ask if she had any other lyrics in mind. But the question froze on his lips when he saw her walking out of the water.

Lord help him, she was one sexy-ass woman. Her dress was stuck to her everywhere. It was also transparent. He could see her red bra and her red panties. Her narrow waist, her strong thighs. Her hair was in damp ringlets, and water trailed in drops between her breasts. It was like his every teenage fantasy come to life. Growing up around music because of his father and grandfather, he had seen all manner of women in fringe and cowboy boots, with big hair and big breasts and even bigger attitudes. They were the stars of his dirty dreams. But he’d never expected to be with a woman like that. He was just a songwriter, and he had known as an adult that he wasn’t cut out for the spotlight. The cameras, the expectations, made him crazy.

Then he’d met Jolene. And all common sense had flown out the window. He’d convinced himself he could deal with all the bullshit of dating her because she was the most beautiful and complete woman he’d ever met. Actually, that was a lie. He hadn’t thought about anything. He’d just dived headfirst into the affair with her, as he could no more resist her than Earth could stop turning. Her sensuality was undeniable, and on full display right now. Then there was also her goofy sense of humor. Her shrewd businesslike mind. Her laugh and her lips.

Damn it. This was fucking torture.

She was almost to the grass, looking at him like she wanted to bend right down onto his seated body and make a meal out of him. There was no hiding that she was as hot for him as he was for her.

Then she peeled her dress off. He about had a heart attack. She’d gained around ten pounds since their split, and it had filled her out in all the right spots. The view was mouthwatering.

He was going to attempt to play it cool. Because that’s what he was. Not.

“Somehow this always happens when we’re together,” he said wryly. “Clothes fall off.”

“I can think of worse people to end up naked with.” She laid her dress on the ground and sat down next to him.

Wow. Such flattery. “I should hope so.” Even though he was no longer directly being assaulted by red panties and breasts spilling out of her bra, he couldn’t get the image out of his head, nor could he stop himself from sneaking a peek at her. “I can’t think of anyone better to be naked with than you,” he said, shooting her a smile. He suddenly wished he’d planned better for this trip. He wanted a splash of whiskey.

She ran her fingers through her hair. “Threw his guitar into my pool. Played each other for a fool. Now I regret my lost Chance.”