Authors: Alison Packard
“I thought we sounded great.”
Jessie slid off the stool next to him creating some tension easing
space between them. Unable to stop himself, he checked out her
amazing ass, shown off to perfection in her faded jeans, as she moved
to the edge of the stage and surveyed the rows of empty seats in the
front.
“That’s a load of crap and you know it.”
Jessie spun around and
finally
met his eyes.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He
heard the exasperation in his voice and didn’t care. Maybe he
wasn’t a big star like her, but he was her equal as a musician, and
as such, he wasn’t about to let her get away with her shit. “If
you want me to sing with you Friday night, then you’d better do a
helluva lot better than what you’ve been doing for the last two
hours.”
“My pitch was
perfect, and so were our harmonies!” Clenching her fists, she
marched toward him. “Tell me what was missing.” She stopped a few
feet in front of him, planted her hands firmly on her hips, tilted
her head, and treated him to her iciest glare.
“You know what was
missing, but until you can admit it I’m going back to my room to
get some shut-eye. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” Bracing
his acoustic guitar against his chest, he slid off the stool, scowled
at a shell-shocked Wally, and headed toward the stairs.
“Don’t you dare
walk out on me!” Jessie called after him.
He stopped cold and
turned to meet her furious gaze. “News flash,
Ms
.
Grant, I’m here as a favor to you and Wally. I don’t take orders
from you, or anyone else.” He wasn’t one to raise his voice all
that often, and today was no exception. But he was pretty sure his
measured tone had sunk in.
Jessie narrowed her
eyes, glanced at Wally, and then stiffly strode to the far side of
the stage and disappeared down the other set of stairs.
“Do you have a death
wish, son?”
Drew met Wally’s
bemused eyes and shrugged. “I must have to tangle with her.”
“She’s a spitfire,
that’s for sure.” Wally moved toward him. Drew shifted to rest
his forearms on his guitar as the older man halted in front of him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people in more denial. I’m
not sure who y’all think you’re fooling. But it’s obvious to me
you two have a hankerin’ for each other.”
Drew opened his mouth
to protest, then snapped it shut. Wally was right and he wasn’t
about to deny it. He wanted Jessie so much he ached from it. That
kiss in the elevator had been the appetizer, now he was dying for the
full-course meal.
Wally gave Drew a
fatherly pat on his back. “I hope you two can fix this thing
between you before Friday night. She’s the hottest thing in country
music right now.” Wally’s expression turned solemn. “We can’t
afford any screw-ups.”
“We’ll be fine,”
Drew assured him, even though he wasn’t all that convinced.
Wally nodded. “Like I
said before. Jessie’s under a lot of pressure. I think her behavior
during rehearsal is her way of dealing with it.”
“Yeah. That’s
probably it,” he said, not believing that excuse for a second.
Jessie was too much of a professional to be thrown by a live concert.
Just like him, she was still reeling from the kiss he’d laid on her
last night. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Good idea. But if
you knock on her door, be prepared for flying barware.”
Despite his irritation, Drew
chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll duck.”
In her suite, Jessie
paced the brown and gold carpet, and just like she’d been doing
ever since it happened, she replayed every single second of that
elevator ride in her head.
Who knew Drew could
kiss like that? On a scale of one to ten, it was at least a twenty.
She should have known. It was always the quiet ones. They surprised
you every time. Halting, she lifted a hand and touched her lips with
her fingertips. Did he kiss Hannah like that? Like he’d been
starving for months and had finally found sustenance? There was no
evidence he was a player, and she didn’t figure him for a cheater.
So why had he done it? Had he broken up with Hannah? No. That
couldn’t be. Maybe it was something he’d done in the heat of the
moment and instantly regretted?
No. She shook her head
and resumed her pacing. There had been no regret in his eyes when
he’d pulled her close and proclaimed he was going to kiss her
again. And—
oh God
—she
couldn’t seem to get that sexy drawl of his out of her mind.
Judging by that kiss,
Drew knew his way around a woman. The thought of finding out if he
was as skilled at other things as he was at kissing was driving her
crazy. She’d been hot for him for months, but last night, it started
in her hotel room when he’d zipped up her dress, then kicked in
again as she sat next to him at the bar. As a performer, she wasn’t
above a little stage-flirting with her guitar player, but that
couldn’t happen again. At least not before Friday night and CMT’s
televised broadcast of her concert. She had to be professional, and
to do that, she had to keep her raging hormones in check.
Damn
it
. The pacing wasn’t helping. She stopped in the middle
of the room, lifted her arms as she inhaled, and lowered them as she
exhaled. Then she did it again. And again.
Wally would be dropping
by soon to read her the riot act. She’d seen his face before she
left the stage; he hadn’t been pleased. Yeah, so she’d tanked the
rehearsal. So what? They still had one more day to rehearse. It
wasn’t like it was the end of the world.
Like always, she’d be
able to calm him down in less than five minutes. All she had to do
was tell him she was sorry and promise to be on her best behavior
tomorrow. Underneath that good-old-boy bluster, he was a soft-hearted
teddy bear. She’d figured that out ten years ago when he noticed
her clothes hanging off of her, and left his spot on the sidewalk to
go buy her a sandwich. He’d placed the sandwich in her open guitar
case, along with a twenty-dollar bill. The next week he returned to
the farmer’s market and handed her another sandwich and his
business card.
Although her instincts
told her he was on the up and up, she’d still high tailed it to the
public library to look him up on one of their computers. He turned
out to be everything he said he was, and the next week, when he
showed up again, she listened to him tell her how he was going to
make her a star. And true to his word, he’d done just that.
Just as she exhaled
another long breath, a sharp knock on the door broke her
concentration. She let out a frustrated groan and marched to the
door. Since John was stationed in the hallway to ensure she wasn’t
disturbed by overzealous fans, it could only be Wally.
After taking a
fortifying breath, she opened the door and came face to face with
Drew. He didn’t wait for her to invite him in, instead, he pushed
past her and entered the suite.
Her heart skipped a few
beats, then started to thud heavily against her ribs. “I don’t
recall inviting you in.”
“Shut the door.” He
put his hands on his hips and skewered her with his icy blue eyes.
“We need to talk.”
“I don’t take
orders from you,” she said, throwing his words back at him.
“Shut the door, or
I’m going back to Nashville on the next plane, and you can find
yourself another guitar player.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Although she wanted to
slam the door with every ounce of power she could muster, she forced
herself to close it gently. “Blackmail?” She folded her arms over
her chest and faced him. “That’s low, Drew. That’s real low.”
“You disappointed me
today.” He held up his hand, silencing her as she opened her mouth
to reel off a string of profanities. “I know we have…issues, but
to deliberately sabotage an important rehearsal. That’s not like
you.”
Jessie fought the urge
to squirm under his pointed stare. It was one thing to admit to
herself she’d sabotaged the rehearsal, but to hear it from Drew
stung. She’d always been proud of her professionalism. Today she’d
been the farthest thing from professional. “It wasn’t that bad,”
she said, her tone defensive. “We sounded fine.”
“But we could be so
much better than fine.” He searched her face. “Like we were that
night at the MC.”
“That was
spontaneous. We didn’t even rehearse that night.”
“We knew the song
well enough to sing it without embarrassing ourselves. Look, I know
it wasn’t anywhere near perfect, but when we sat next to each other
on that stage, we connected. And it was pretty damn amazing.” He
let out a frustrated growl and combed his fingers through his hair.
“Today you wouldn’t even look at me. Is that how it’s going to
be on Friday night? Because if it is, then I think we should scrap
the duet altogether.”
“We can’t.”
“Why? You didn’t
want to do it in the first place. Why’d you change your mind?”
“Because it’s
important to Wally,” she admitted. “He said he had a gut feeling
about it, and I’ve gotten this far by listening to him and his gut
feelings. I’m not about to stop now.”
“Fine. Then give me
your word that you won’t pull the same shit you did today when we
rehearse tomorrow, and I’ll stay.”
Anger darkened her
expression. “And here we go with the blackmail again.”
“It’s not
blackmail, it’s a stipulation.” He took a measured breath.
“Jesus, Jessie, we’re singing a love song. You have to look at
me, and when you do, you have to at least look at me like you like
me.”
“I’m not sure I can
manage that.”
“You did last night.
In the elevator.”
She lifted her chin. “I
don’t want to talk about that.”
“Why? Because you
want to forget it? Or because you can’t?”
“I forgot about that
kiss the second I stepped out of the elevator.”
“Really?” A wry
smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Is that why you couldn’t
sleep last night?”
“I slept just fine.”
The lie left a bitter taste on her lips.
“You seem to forget
how well I know you.” He crossed the short distance between them.
“You only drink coffee when you haven’t slept the night before.
This morning you walked into rehearsal holding the biggest cup
Starbucks sells.”
“Don’t flatter
yourself. I couldn’t sleep because I have an important concert in
two days.”
“Like you’d ever
lose sleep over a gig. Even a televised one.” He shook his head.
“No. Like me, you couldn’t get that kiss out of your head.”
Despite the thrill that
raced through her, another thing she couldn’t get out of her head
was the sight of a certain strawberry-blonde, clad in only a towel in
his apartment. “I don’t think Hannah would be too happy to hear
you say that.”
“Hannah isn’t in
the picture.”
“Well, she was when
she was half-naked in your apartment four months ago.”
A scowl crept across
his face. “I was drunk. And so was she. It wasn’t very memorable.
For either of us. And in case you’re wondering, she hasn’t been
there since that night and I haven’t been at her place either.”
Stunned, Jessie stared
at him for a few seconds as she digested this new development.
“You’re not back together with her?”
“No. Like I said, it
was the result of way too much alcohol.”
“I’ve never seen
you drink enough to get that wasted. And you were fine when we sang
at the MC earlier that night. What happened?”
He scrubbed a hand over
his jaw. “It was a rough night,” he said, and she detected a hint
of strain in his tone. “And it wasn’t just one thing. There was
more going on.”
“You could have
talked to me.”
“You were one of the
reasons I got shitfaced…talking to you was out of the question.”
She raised her brows.
“What did I do?”
“Nothing.” He let
out a humorless laugh. “Nothing except look so fucking hot that all
I wanted to do was to drag you into the MC’s store room and take
you right then and there up against the wall.” He paused as she
gasped. “It was you I wanted that night, not Hannah. I got drunk
because I wanted you and I couldn’t have you. But when you showed
up at my door later that night, I saw something in your eyes.
Something that told me that maybe you wanted me too.” His eyes
drilled into hers. “Was I wrong?”
God, no. She
had
wanted him. She
still
wanted him. Desperately. He didn’t need to know she’d
fallen in love with him. Love wasn’t on his agenda but, at the
moment, she didn’t care. The need to finish what they’d started
in the elevator was far too strong.
“No,” she
whispered. “You weren’t wrong.”
“Do you want me to
leave?” he asked, as he lifted his hand to her cheek. He slid his
thumb over her jaw; the light caress sent waves of heat to every part
of her body, but mostly between her legs.
“I want…” she
began, then let out a helpless whimper as he rubbed his thumb against
her bottom lip.
His gaze lowered to her
mouth and he asked in a low husky voice. “What? What do you want?”
“I want you to stay.”
She took a deep breath as he slid his hand along her neck, then
underneath her hair to cup her nape. His fingers were warm against
her skin; the shiver that followed wasn’t because she was cold.
Just the opposite. Suddenly she was burning up inside. And she felt
dizzy.
“Then I’ll stay.”
He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers. His feather
light kiss left her aching for more. She couldn’t breathe, and she
couldn’t think worth a damn.
The second his tongue
touched her lips, she parted her mouth and allowed him inside. The
soft, warm glide of his tongue was almost more than she could bear. A
low moan bubbled up from somewhere deep inside of her as he deepened
the kiss and consumed her mouth with forceful demand. He tasted of
coffee and chocolate, two of her favorite things. Desire pooled
between her legs as she gave herself over to his slow, deep, wet
kiss.