“What about food?”
“I just had a piece of you, so I’m satisfied for a while.” He waited for her to roll her eyes, but hell, it was the truth.
She didn’t let him down. She shook her head. “Damn, you sweet talker, you. You’ll make my head swell.”
That was an opening too good to pass up. “Give me another thirty minutes and my head is going to be swelling, too.”
“For a man who writes such beautiful lyrics, your foreplay flattery sucks.” She sipped her wine.
But he saw the smile she was trying to hide. That was almost as satisfying as sex. He had missed her smile. She was asking him for something, and he wasn’t quite sure what it was. He’d take a stab at it, though, because he was feeling like they had some unfinished business. He may have gotten her to drop her drawers, but she didn’t look like she was all that happy about it. He wanted to change that.
“When I first met you, I thought you were stunning. Enthusiastic. Untouched. Maybe even a little naive. I thought this business would knock some of that out of you.” Setting his drink down on the step next to him, Chance reached back and touched her bare knee. He’d always liked the way she looked in denim shorts. “It didn’t. None of that got knocked out of you. You’re still the same amazing woman I met eighteen months ago.” He meant that sincerely.
She clearly didn’t believe him. “What’s your angle, Rivers? You already had a piece of ass, as you so eloquently put it.”
For a guy who made a living writing words, he had a hell of a time getting them to come out of his mouth. “I don’t have an angle. I am a man sitting here trying to tell you that I’m sorry for the way shit went down between us. And when I think back to the beginning, the truth is that you blew me away. With your voice, your body, your attitude.”
Chance turned and went onto his knees and shifted so he was right in front of her. He lifted her hand out of her lap and kissed her fingertips one by one, right hand, then left. He felt her shiver beneath his touch, goosebumps rising on her legs. He wanted her to understand that he’d been swept away. “I didn’t have an agenda then, and I don’t have an agenda now.”
She peered down at him from under those insanely long lashes of hers. “I didn’t have an agenda, either, you know. Not with you. With my career, sure, of course I did. But with you, I was just starstruck, like the hick I am.”
“The feeling was mutual, darlin’. And my only agenda now is making sure you enjoy the creative process.” He spread her legs and moved in between them, kissing up her arm to the dip on the inside of her elbow. “Relax, baby. Let’s tell a story.”
That was what he loved about country music. It told a story, not couched in metaphors and symbolism, but a straight-up, honest-to-goodness, you’ve-all-felt-it kind of emotional journey.
“What’s our story? When the tour bus is rocking, don’t come knocking?” She shot him a grin, looking unaffected by the fact that he was between her thighs.
“Don’t act like our relationship was all about sex.”
“No, it wasn’t then. But it is now.”
That pissed him off. It shouldn’t. That was what they had agreed to. But it was annoying to hear her be so dismissive. Hell, she even shrugged. “We’re writing a breakup album. So tell me how you felt that night when we had our big fight.”
“Can you get off the floor? I can’t take you seriously on your knees.”
“I’m trying to be nonthreatening.”
Jolene laughed. “The one thing I have never felt with you is threatened. But okay, you just stay down there, and I’ll pet your head.”
She did. Reached out and stroked his hair. Weirdly, he kind of liked it. “You still didn’t answer the question.”
“How did I feel? I remember thinking that it wasn’t fair you always get to be pissed and I have to be rational. I remember thinking I am not your mama.”
Was she fucking serious? He looked at her. Yep, she was. That got him up off his knees. She wanted a song about a titty baby, she was going to get one.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m just getting my guitar.” He needed to refocus, redirect his energy. He could feel the anger prickling, and that wasn’t a good thing. There was no reason to get upset with Jolene or start a fight. They were wading through their history. It was bound to be awkward and even a little hurtful. There was a reason they’d broken up, after all.
When he came back, he sat in the rocker next to her and picked at his strings. “Got any thoughts about men who drive you crazy?”
“I have a whole hell of a lot.” She gave him a look. “Is this a good idea, Chance? I don’t want to be arrested for clocking you. Especially since I’m kind of relaxed post-sex.”