Sweet Melody (Rock & Rodeo Romance #1) (23 page)

S
crew Gemma
and her fucked up ways. And screw my brain for letting her in through the cracks of my own insecurities. Trey told me to wait for him at the bar on the Rodeo side of things while he finishes up. My fingers move over my phone typing in the Google search.

Tailgate Down gets mentions in all the news articles about Stacia Rollins and the announcement of her new label as the first group signed to Long Road Records. Two hours ago, my stomach would have flipped over the excitement for Hunter and the guys, not just for the positive attention but also for the better path for their careers. In one fucked up moment, Hunter’s ex has obliterated my night.

Most of the online articles show press photos of Stacia. If I weren’t so distracted, I’d admire her game in furthering her brand. Hell, her label name comes straight off of her first huge hit she earned on her own talent. Kind of a big middle finger to all the trash thrown her way before then. She’s beautiful. She’s talented. She’s kick ass. And on one gossip site, she’s got Hunter.

Whoever took the picture wasn’t in the same room. There’s a glass window that blurs the image a tiny bit. But Hunter’s arms definitely encircle Stacia’s smaller frame. Her hands rest on his biceps. But the look between the two of them suggests that more than just a business deal’s going down. The accompanying headline does nothing to alleviate the fear clenching my gut. “Country Superstar Snags Up and Coming Hottie”.

The report itself dances on the line of gossip and news. It covers the new label and mentions the band. But it also includes embedded tweets with pictures from #HuntersHot, in case the avid readers need to know who Hunter Ford is. While it doesn’t come out and say the direct words, the implication that a romance brews between the two drives a rising number of curious readers to the “article.”

And there it is. Exactly what Gemma talked about. Perception. Whether or not the new rumor was true, it wouldn’t hurt Hunter in the long run to be attached to Stacia. In fact, it might even help get the band more initial press. What headline would be attached to a picture with him and me? “Up and Coming Country Star Slumming With Local Bartender”? Or better yet, “Local Slut.” They could attack my character for so many things if they dug around long enough in my past. Or maybe they could spin my prior relationship with Trey so that I look like a gold digger trying to get a leg up in my world by going down on the guys I date.

The picture captures an isolated moment. For all I know, they were talking about the weather at the time. But rumor or not, it still fucking hurts. More than the initial hashtag storm. And if this was just the beginning of what I’ll have to put up with by being with Hunter, then maybe it’s better to let him go and succeed on his own by whatever means he needs to without a liability like me hanging on, waiting to taste that fleeting happiness we managed to conjure in our first three weeks. Oh God, how that gossip site might love to know that we’d only been dating for such a short time. How they would crucify me.

“I’ve got Four Roses behind the bar, but I also brought two of these with me.” Trey walks into the darkened room carrying two dark bottles of beer.

Turning off my phone and shoving it in my bag, I close my eyes and shut out all the bullshit. For one second, maybe I can be drama-free and forget the ache in my chest.

“Let’s go with the beer. No point in dirtying a glass for me. What is it?”

He hands an opened chilled bottle to me. “A Belgian dunkel weiss. I know you’re not a huge fan of darker beers, but you should try this one.”

The pull I take lasts longer than a small taste. The cold liquid slides down my throat, and I swallow the rage and tears bubbling up. “It’s lighter than I would expect from a dark beer.”

Trey settles down next to my stool at the bar. He takes a long drink, and sets his bottle down. “Yeah. Too good and expensive for us to carry in the club, but I’m thinking of keeping my own stash in my office for nights like this.”

A small smile creeps onto my face. “Meet many girls after work here, do you?”

“Not since you.”

His low voice reminds me of times gone by. We’d always cleaned up the entire place at the old R&R space. When finished, we’d share a drink at the bar and bask in the success. After he invested in this building and the club started taking off, time got in our way. That and his insistent pushiness that I return his feelings. Instead of fighting hard to overcome my past, I’d wrapped myself up in its icy cloak and run the fuck away from him. And he let me. But he never fired me, which was either really stupid on his part or really compassionate. Knowing him, it was the latter. But what did that make me for sticking around? A needy bitch or a lazy one?

Nostalgia hits me. “Remember that one night when you fired that really shitty bartender? Can’t remember his name. But he managed to break most of the glasses before leaving. You told the rest of the cleanup crew to let you handle it.”

“You were pissed because you didn’t think it was fair. When I didn’t back down, you picked up the last two clean glasses and dropped them on the floor, too.”

I cringe a bit. “Yeah, not one of my finer moments. But if you recall, I made it up to you.”

Trey chuckles. “How could I forget? We did things on that bar that would have gotten the place closed down by a health inspector.”

Memory lane may not have been the best path to take tonight. My legs squeeze together tight at the flashback of how good Trey could make me feel. We both clear our throats at the same time, and laugh. Awkward silence fills up the space between us.

“So what’s up? Why’d you want to talk tonight?” Trey cuts straight to the point, as always.

My original mission doesn’t seem so desirable at the moment. No point in pushing for something that may not be needed. “Just thought we could both use a break and talk. We never talk anymore.”

Trey holds his bottle to his lips but doesn’t drink. His eyes focus on me, causing me to drink more beer to ease the awkwardness. The dark never worked as a place for me to hide from him before. Don’t know why it would now.

He doesn’t press. “You’ve been busy lately. And a bit distracted.” He leans his arm against the bar and holds his head up in his hand. His arm flexes as he shifts to face me. His muscles have always been a welcome distraction.

“I guess.” Shit, European beers have a higher alcohol content. Halfway through the bottle, and my light buzz helps with my agitated nerves. “Although I have a feeling I’ll be getting back on track here really soon.”

Trey’s eyebrow rises. “That’s not what I’ve heard. Thought you were going to take some time off.”

Fucking Bethany. “Some people need to learn to keep their mouths shut.”

“And some people need to allow others to care enough about them to help you out.”

Once again, he can’t help but push. “And some people need to learn to stay out of my business.”

“And others need to openly share their business to make it easier on them.”

Seems like drama’s taking up permanent space in my life. Tired, buzzed, and a little pissed, I wallow in anger and snap back. “You want me to share? Then let’s share. So I guess you don’t mind that I was going to ask for time off so I could drive to Nashville and fuck one of your friends. There. Is that enough sharing for you?” Slamming the bottle down on the bar, I stand up to leave.

Trey grabs my hand and holds me. “You feel better? Now that you said enough to hurt me? I suppose you think I’m gonna let you walk away.”

My wrist won’t budge from his hold. “I don’t think you have a choice.”

“We all have choices we can make. Some are easier than others. But I think your choice to lash out whenever you feel hurt at those who care about you is a fucked up one.”

My other hand rises to slap him, but he catches it. “I can’t catch a fucking break tonight. Fine. You’re so all knowing. What am I so hurt about?”

He holds me without bruising my arms. Or maybe I’m not struggling as hard as I think I am. Trey’s hulking body stands inches away from mine, the heat from him radiating against my face.

“I’m betting that bitch of an ex of Hunter’s said something that got to you. Yeah, Shane and Harley both told me, and I figured it out. Maybe those pictures of girls pressed up to him makes you feel a little insecure. Or maybe you think you’re not as good for him as a certain country superstar might be, at least by those new pictures. I’m taking shots in the dark, but tell me, Mel. Am I getting close?”

The fucker always sees through me. I shouldn’t have stuck around after work. I should have run.

“Your lack of a response tells me I’m right on the money.” He steps even closer until his face towers over mine. “How about he’s the first man you’ve let in. The first one you’ve opened yourself up to admit you like him. Maybe even love him.” Trey breathes that last statement on me, his face close to mine. “And that scares the ever loving shit out of you. And makes me jealous as hell.”

My body stills. Adrenaline rushes through me. Anger, sorrow, and even lust fill me. Confused, I stop fighting against him.

“Trey, I…I loved you, too. I did. I couldn’t say it at the time. Didn’t know how. You know why. And you pushed me so damn hard.”

His breath catches, and he releases my hands. “I loved you too, Mel.” His chest heaves. “Still do,” he whispers.

Old feelings well up inside. Frustration gives way to a bit of sadness. Pain clouds my judgment.

My hand reaches up to his face. “Fuck, Trey.” Standing on my tiptoes, my lips touch his with lightness, wanting to kiss away both of our private pain.

His lips crush mine, and his arm wraps around me. My body presses against his. For one fleeting second, my insecurities and hurt feelings disappear. The kiss grows in intensity, consuming me. Reminding me. That the lips touching mine are not the ones I want or need on me. Regret crashes over me like a tidal wave.

My hands push against him, using force to wrench myself away from him. “Oh fuck. What the hell am I doing?” I stumble backwards, my fingers touching my lips. Tears flood my eyes.

“Jesus, Mel. I am so sorry. Fuck!” His shout echoes in the quiet air of the empty room.

“Um, Trey. I should go. We should…we should forget about this. My fault really. I was supposed to ask you for time off. Got sidetracked. But we don’t have to tell anyone. It can be like it never happened.” Tears threaten to fall. Not here. Have to get out.

Grabbing my bag, I rush toward the nearest door. Trey catches a strap on my bag.

“Wait, Mel. Don’t go like this.”

With a tug, the strap yanks out of his hand. “Like it never happened, Trey.”

In my car, my hands beat on the steering wheel. “Mother. Fucking. Stupid. Bitch. What the hell did you just do?” My bottom lip bleeds from me biting it to stop me from crying.

Digging through my bag, I find my phone and turn it on, not surprised to see so many missed texts. Temporary relief hits me that Hunter’s name doesn’t pop up. All of them come from Bee.

“When are you coming home?”

“Don’t stay too long talking to Trey.”

Too late on that one.

“Seriously, get your ass home NOW.”

“How long does it take to request time off?”

“Text me before you leave.”

“Get home NOW before you screw things up and regret it.”

Way too late on that one. Against my wishes, tears fall, making it even harder to see.

A
bright light
and a scream yank me out of deep sleep. Something heavy hits the middle of my stomach, and my breath hisses out from the force.

“Holy shit, Hunter. What the hell?” Mel stands in the doorway, eyes wide and chest heaving. The sight of her breasts almost makes up for the temporary pain.

I flick on the bedside lamp. “Surprise, baby. Bethany let me in. Didn’t she tell you?” I shove the bag off and stand up. Mel can’t get into my arms fast enough.

Wrapping her in my embrace, I rock her back and forth. “This moment. Right here. This is how I kept myself awake all those hours to get here. Well, that and the other part of me that’s waking up right now.” My cock stands at attention with her so close to me. No more dirty fantasies needed. I’ve got the real thing right here.

“Bee’s not here. She left me a note on the floor that told me to get my ass to bed.”

Chuckling, I let her go enough so I can see her face. “Well, she told me to get in here and strip naked for you. In fact, I think her words were to get ‘nekkid.’ When I asked her the difference between the two words, she said that one was something you did before you took a shower and one was something you did before the fun starts. And somehow, she doubted I had the skills to know which one.”

Mel looks at me but doesn’t laugh. Her eyes don’t sparkle with the excitement I had anticipated on my drive here. Something deep in my gut starts aching, but I push it out of my notice.

She steps sideways and out of my hold. “Damn, you scared me. Sorry about the bag in the stomach. It was all I could think to do.” With caution, she walks to the other side of the bed and pulls her bag to her, holding it against her body.

A blind person could see that something’s not right. Then again, we haven’t been together in so long. Maybe the instant connection we experienced before I left just needs a jump start.

“I didn’t drive all the way here to scare you. Come over here. I’ve got something to tell you.” With my hand outstretched, I wait.

She looks between my hand and my eyes too many times to count, never letting the bag go. Pain flashes across her face but disappears quickly. With a forced smile, she shifts to face me head on. A bag and a bed in between us.

“Look, let me take a quick shower. Tonight was a ball buster of a night. I kinda want to wash the grime off me.” She scoots around the bed, slowing down as she comes closer to me.

“That’s fine. I’ll be right here.” My hand reaches out as she shifts around me and brushes a stray hair behind her ear. She stops, and leans her head into my touch. For a brief moment, she closes her eyes and sighs. My lips find hers and press gently against them. The warmth of her touch and the smell of her skin invade me. Her lower lip trembles against mine.

She backs away, avoiding my eyes. “Be right back.”

Why does it feel like even though I’m standing in her bedroom, there’s more distance between us than when I was in Nashville?

Taking off my boots and changing to a cleaner T-shirt, I wait on her bed, careful not to fall back asleep despite a deep level of exhaustion pulling against me like a riptide. Taking out my phone, I text Mac that I’ve made it and type a message to Trey.

“Hey, man. Letting you know that I’m in town surprising Mel.”

My brow furrows. The lack of response after a minute surprises me. No matter when or what time, he always texts back. My fingers scroll through my other local contacts. Since it’s too late to contact them, especially Mom and Dad, I run over the added lyrics Mac texted me while I was driving.

Mel walks back in wearing an oversized T-shirt and almost nothing else. She towels her long, dark hair as she stands in the doorway. My body knows she wears nothing else under that shirt except maybe a pair of panties. My entire being pulses like one big throbbing nerve that needs relief. I shift to stand up, but she holds up her hand.

“Don’t get up.” She throws the wet towel on her floor and sits at the end of her bed, curling her knees into her. At the farthest point away from me. “To what do I owe the honor of this surprise?” She tries hard to cover with a light tone, but the true fog of heaviness around her hits me like a sledgehammer, and the pang in the pit of my stomach travels north toward my heart.

“Um, so you already know about the deal with Long Road Records and working with Stacia Rollins.”

Her face softens a little. “That’s truly amazing and a perfect fit for you guys if she delivers on her promises. It’ll give you so much more room to put together your absolute best. And I’ll bet you and Mac will write some hot shit.” A little sparkle returns to her eyes. “Shit, you should see if the two of you can get a side deal for your song writing.”

My head shakes as I chuckle. Her natural instincts will get her far if she would only listen to them for herself. “Yeah, we’ve already done that. Pretty sweet deal. Mac gets first refusal to produce when one of our songs gets picked. And Stacia’s offered a pretty big bonus if we write her a hit. We’ll have to see.”

Mel crawls to me and throws her body on top of mine. Her wet hair falls on my face. She hugs me to her. “I’m so damn proud of you and the boys. You’re gonna be so huge.”

My dick twitches between us, taking full notice of her lack of bra and the peek of lace panties as the T-shirt rides up on one side.

“That’s not the only thing that’s huge.” My hand slips down her back and cups her ass.

She rolls onto her side and out of my grasp again. The first nerves of panic catch in my throat. I swallow, and take a deep breath. Again, something negative flashes behind her eyes.

“So that can’t be the only reason you drove here,” she prompts and avoids. “Long way to come for something I mostly knew through our phone conversations.”

I roll in her direction until we face each other. “How about I missed you and couldn’t wait another second to be with you.” My hand reaches out to her hip and caresses her. “Come over here.”

With a gentle grasp, I pull her against me and turn onto my back, rolling her on top. My hands push the damp strands out of her face, giving me a clear view. She avoids my eyes, looking at my lips.

“I missed you, Hunter,” she whispers. She licks her lips, but they never meet mine. Her entire body goes rigid against mine.

“Mel, what the hell is wrong?” Impatience, confusion, and weariness leak into my voice.

She pushes herself up until she straddles me. “I just told you I missed you, and you think something’s wrong with that?” With no grace or care, she climbs off of me, crossing her legs under her.

I adjust myself in my jeans with no subtlety, and sit back against her pillows. “No. Nothing’s wrong with what you said. You know I miss you, too. But come on, Mel. Something’s not right, and both of us know it. But only you can tell me what’s going on.” My hand brushes her knee, wanting some sort of connection. “What’s going on?”

Her body slumps, and she folds her leg away from my fingers, resting her chin on it. “It’s nothing. I’m tired, and I wasn’t expecting a surprise.”

“And I wasn’t expecting my girlfriend to do everything she can to not let me touch her.” Sitting forward, I rub my tired eyes.

She sighs. “You’re beat. Let’s just go to sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.” Her eyes finally look into mine in a silent plea for me to agree.

“We’ll talk now.” My arms cross.

Her shoulders square off at me. “Fine. You want to talk. You start. Why are you here, Hunter?”

Count to ten. Count to twenty. Anything to keep me from blowing up at her.

“You mean beyond wanting to see my
girlfriend
? Dammit, Mel.”

She squirms. “Well, imagine being the one to come home after a long shift and someone’s in my bed. You’re not fucking Goldilocks.”

My eyes narrow. “Like I’ve been going around trying to find the right bed? Goldilocks, my ass.”

“I just…I wasn’t expecting you. That’s all.” She stands up. “Now, are we going to sleep or what?”

“Not until you get to the point. Why are you pissed at me?”

She bites her lip, avoiding my gaze. “I’m not pissed.”

“You sure as shit could’ve fooled me. In my mind, you’d already be well on your way to your second or third orgasm, but you won’t even let me touch you.”

“So that’s all I am to you? Someone you can fuck by showing up whenever you want to? It’s not like you’re hurting for attention.” As soon as she finishes, her eyes drop.

My hands rake down my stubble. “Are we there again? I thought we closed the door on the dumb ass social media shit. I told you it wasn’t me.”

“I know, I know. It was your A&R rep. She’s working overtime these days. Earning her pay to get you lots of attention.” She digs in her bag and finds her phone.

“What the hell are you talking about? I was going to tell you that among all of the positive changes, we got rid of her ass.”

Mel tosses me her cell. “Then who the hell came up with the newest story?”

My eyes fall on an internet search for Stacia and me. Most of them cover her signing my band. But at least three imply that Stacia and I are together. Fucking Aislynn.

“She must have done this as a final parting shot. We fired her after the party at Stacia’s house. I swear.” I try to catch Mel’s eyes. When they stop darting and look at me, doubt stares back. “Are you fucking kidding me with this? You actually believe that I’m cheating on you with her?”

Mel drops onto the edge of the bed. “No. It’s… it’s hard to ignore when one of the top stars of country looks like she’s hanging on your every word. Or that the two of you are about to kiss.”

I toss her phone back at her. “Perception. It’s all about perception. You can take any photo and label it as whatever you want, and the general population will believe it. But you’re not one of the general population. You’re supposed to know me well enough to know I would
never
do that to you.”

“I know that’s what I’m supposed to think.”

“You don’t believe me?”

She shakes her head. “It’s not that. I just don’t think I can keep dealing with you being there and me being here having to see everything. And you always having to explain yourself.”

“But that’s why I came here tonight,” I start.

“I know why you came. And I miss you, and everything. But I don’t think that tonight’s a good idea with everything.” Her arms gesture around her.

“You mean, you don’t think we’re a good idea, don’t you? We’re right back here. Again.” I stand up from the bed. She does the same on the opposite side.

I don’t know, Hunter. I don’t think you should be with me.” Her head hangs.

My fingers run through my hair. “Which is it, Mel? Is it that I shouldn’t be with you, or you shouldn’t be with me? Dammit, woman, you’ve got me so twisted.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t what, Mel?” I yell at her.

“I think—”

“You think what?”

Her eyes snap to mine. “Stop interrupting.”

My hands clench into fists. “Then say something concrete. Say the damn truth.”

“I kissed Trey.”

All of the air in my lungs escapes. The room tilts on its side as I cling to my last shred of rationality to stay upright. The words hang in the air like the mushroom cloud after a nuclear bomb. I wait for the wave of energy to wash over my body and obliterate me.

“Say something,” Mel says in a tiny voice, the black hole of a bed remaining between us.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Shaking my head, I sit back down on the edge of the bed.

“It’s not like I’ve been cheating on you. It just happened. For a second. And I knew immediately I screwed up. But Gemma got me so twisted up, I couldn’t see straight.”

“What the fuck does Gemma have to do with you ending up with Trey?” I growl.

“I didn’t end up with Trey. It was only a kiss.”

“Mel,” I warn.

“She came to the Rock & Rodeo tonight. Waited until everyone went home to come talk to me at the bar. Showed me the pictures.”

“Fucking. Gemma. You know she was trying to fuck with your head, and you let her.”

Mel hangs her head. “I know. I shouldn’t have. But she’s kind of right. I am a PR disaster.”

“You are not a disaster.” As pissed off as I am, I still can’t listen to her insult herself.

“Let’s assume that at some point, I went to Nashville.”

The real purpose of my trip here flashes in my mind.

“And we went out,” she continues in hurried breath. “Somebody takes a picture of us. That picture ends up online. Someone else starts researching who I am. They label me whatever they want because, as you said, whatever they put out there, the general population will believe. So they use words like ‘slut’ and ‘whore,’ and they zoom in on my tattoos.”

“But you know you aren’t any of those things.”

She crosses her arms. “You think
they
care, whoever the anonymous trolls are? Someone else will post a picture of me serving at the R&R, wearing what I usually wear as proof that I’m not good enough for you.”

She possesses a deeper understanding of image marketing than I gave her credit for. We would have a hard time if the internet posted any of her scenarios. But that shouldn’t be a reason not to be together. Confused and tired, my mind wanders in too many directions—caring for her, being pissed at her, wanting her in my arms. Anger gives me more clarity.

“I still don’t connect the dots to how you’re worried about my PR to kissing Trey. How long has that been going on?”

The bed dips as Mel sits with her back to me. “It only happened once. Tonight. After Gemma.”

No words will turn back time. They won’t fix the situation. They can’t make her confession untrue. If she wants to push me away, I have no fight in me to stop her.

“I think I should go.”

She turns to me. “Don’t.”

“I can’t stay here.”
With you. I can’t stay here in the same room as you.

She stands up and pulls the comforter back. “You’re exhausted, and you can’t go anywhere else. It’s the middle of the morning. Stay in here. Get some sleep. I’ll stay in Bethany’s room. We can talk more in the morning.”

All the energy leaks out of my body at once. The weight of the situation knocks me down, and I drop onto the bed. I nod in surrender.