Hot Nashville Nights

“They were orphaned. They’d been alone in the house with their owner when she accidentally fell down the stairs. She died on impact, from a spinal cord injury.” He frowned and continued with, “The dogs were so traumatized, they dug their way out of the yard and started living on the streets. People tried to catch them, but they just kept running away. Then I found them hiding under my front porch.”

“Really? You found them yourself?”

He nodded. “They were dirty and matted and covered in burrs. Candy’s legs were scraped up, and one of Cookie’s ears was torn. I called a mobile vet, and he came out to the house and tended to them. Since there wasn’t anyone associated with their owner who was able to take them, I offered to let them stay with me until I found another home for them.” He drew his knees up. “But I got attached and kept them instead. After that, I decided to start a rescue. There’s a lot of work that’s involved in running a place like this. It didn’t happen overnight.”

I pondered the story he’d told me. It was certainly better than mulling over our past. “I never really thought about what happens to pets when their owners die.”

“My mother died in a similar way. From a fall.”

“Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry.” He’d mentioned his mom earlier, and now he was talking about the manner in which she’d left this earth. It didn’t get more painful than that. I shuddered and asked, “Were you with her when it happened?”

“No.” He glanced at his shoes, at the bits of mud and grass on them. “I was at school, and she was home, painting the beams in our apartment. The ladder tipped over, and she suffered a head injury.” He kept studying his shoes. “She thought she was okay at first, but then she started feeling dizzy and confused and called a friend to take her to urgent care. But by then, her brain was already starting to swell.”

He finally lifted his gaze. He’d done more talking today than he had in the entire time I’d known him.

Before he slipped back into his old silent ways, I said, “It must have been awful for you, going to live with your aunt and uncle after something so traumatic.”

“Yeah. It pretty much sucked.”

“Which one of them is your blood relative?”

“My aunt. She’s my mother’s older sister. They came from a dysfunctional family.” He paused slightly. “Their dad was an alcoholic.”

I gauged the discomfort in his eyes. Those dark, brooding eyes. “I heard it can be hereditary. The alcoholism,” I added, making my meaning clear.

He shrugged it off. “My grandfather was a mean old cuss who died from liver disease. I hardly remember him.”

“At least you weren’t a mean drunk.”

He snared my gaze. “I was rough with you in bed.”

Was it necessary for him to remind me of that? “We were both rough with each other.” I used to rake my nails all over him, clawing and scratching. “It’s just what we did.”

“I know, but I should have been gentler.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, even if it did. I’d always left his apartment feeling lonely and confused.

He replied, “I’m sorry if I wasn’t more romantic with you.”

His apology went straight to my heart, making it skitter. “Is this part of your sobriety? Saying sorry to all of the women you never cuddled?”

No.” He spoke lower, raspier. “I’m only saying it to you.”

I tried to act normal, to not let my emotions show. “I appreciate your concern, but it isn’t necessary.”

He watched me, a bit too closely. “I just don’t want you feeling bad about the past.”

Or letting it affect the present? It was too late for that. I wasn’t just struggling with my memories, I was troubled by his current association with Kirby, too.

“How well do you know my sister and Brandon?” I asked. I’d never told Mary about my affair with Spencer, and she’d never mentioned his name to me, either. But that didn’t mean they weren’t acquainted.

“I’ve never met Mary. Or Brandon. My friendship with Kirby doesn’t extend to his kids. Not that I have anything against them. It’s just easier for me to keep my relationship with him private.”

“That makes sense, I suppose.” It was easier for me, too, to keep my sister out of the loop. She knew that I used to sleep around and that I was waiting for the right man now. But we didn’t have major conversations about it. Mary had been through enough with me when I was a kid, always worrying about my wild side. Before those reckless feelings came flooding back, I said, “I better get going.”

Spencer frowned. “You don’t have to run off.”

“I’m not.” Thankfully, I had a reason for leaving. “I’m having lunch with Tracy today, and it’s all the way across town.” I had plenty of time, but it was still a good excuse. Besides, I was eager to see her. Unlike Mary, I used Tracy as my confidante. I’d already told her about Spencer, talking about him on and off throughout the years, and now I would be telling her even more. “It was nice seeing the rescue and meeting Pete, but I really have to go.”

He was still frowning. “Then I’ll walk you to your car.”

“All right. But how do I…?” I was concerned about startling the sleeping bulldog.

He bent over to help me. “Just roll him off you. He probably won’t even wake up.”

We moved Pete together, and he landed belly side up, with his feet in the air and his tongue lolling to one side.

“Told ya,” Spencer said, and we both smiled.

I climbed up off the floor. He stood, too. At least the tension was gone. But I knew how quickly it could return.

We retrieved the jackets we’d worn, put them back on and left the rescue, heading back into the rain. We didn’t chat along the way. But we’d said plenty already.

He took me through a side gate that led to his driveway, where I was parked.

I started to unzip his hoodie to return it to him, but he said, “You can keep it until next time.”

“I have my own in the car.”

“If you take it off now, you’ll get soaked.”

That was true. The rain was coming down hard. If only it would knock some sense into me. I was losing my mind, fantasizing about giving up my celibacy for him. Would he stop being abstinent for me, too?

Struggling to keep my wits about me, I deactivated the alarm on my Prius. Spencer looked as if he wanted to eat me alive. Or at least nibble me to death.

I imagined feasting on him, using my mouth in ways I knew he would enjoy. I glanced away, trying to keep my cool. Working for him wasn’t going to be easy, but I couldn’t bail out, not with how badly I needed this job.

“I’ll be in touch,” I said, forcing a professional air.

He nodded, and I ducked into my car and started the engine. He stood in the rain, looking tall and dark and shadowy. I put the shifter in reverse and backed out of his driveway.

Desperate to escape.

I wore Spencer’s jacket to lunch. I could have switched to mine, but I was already wearing his. Or that’s the excuse I used. Truth was, I just wanted to keep something of his next to me. My hunger for him was crushing my common sense.

I sat in the cramped entrance of the mom-and-pop diner and waited for Tracy to arrive. She wasn’t late; I was actually a little early. But it gave me time to catch my breath. Or try to. There wasn’t a table available yet, anyway.

When Tracy showed up, she breezed in like the rough-and-tumble country girl that she was. She’d been raised on a dusty old horse farm by her rodeo cowboy dad. Her mom died when she was in middle school. All these lost mamas, I thought. Hers, mine, Spencer’s.

I stood to greet her, and we hugged. After we separated, I stood back and said, “Wow. Check you out.”

Beneath her straw Stetson, her long brown hair tumbled over her shoulders, as pretty as could be. Her jeans fit her to a T, but she had one of those sensually curvy bodies that filled out every seam. Without makeup, she had wholesome features. But she knew how to doll herself up. Today, her eyes were as smoky as mine, only they were blue, like the sky on a brighter day.

“I’m trying to fool people into thinking I’m still a celebrity,” she replied.

“You’ll always be a star to me.” She certainly looked the part, even if her success had been short-lived. She’d spent most of the money she’d earned fixing up her dad’s property. She’d bought herself a place, too. But everything had faltered so quickly, she was fighting to keep her mortgage afloat. She’d been through hard times before. One of the things we had in common was growing up poor.

The hostess escorted us to a vinyl booth near a window. When it came time to order, we both chose the special: baked macaroni and cheese and collard greens. Comfort food was another thing we had in common. So was sweet tea with lots of ice.

After they brought our tea, Tracy asked me, “How did your meeting with Spencer go?”

“Terrible.” I didn’t hold back. I was used to sharing my screwed-up feelings with her. “It was like going back in time, with how badly I want him again.”

She reached for her glass. “Maybe you’re just getting cabin fever. Or celibate fever, or whatever.”

“He’s celibate, too.”

She gaped at me. “No way.”

“Yes, way.” He was as inactive as I was.

“Dang, really? A guy like him? Why is he keeping all that manliness to himself?”

I repeated what he told me, about him being a recovering alcoholic and abstinence being part of his program, even if he’d carried it out for longer than the usual year.

“Is he struggling with his sobriety?” she asked.

“He said that he can handle the temptation of drinking, but I think it’s more difficult for him than he’s willing to admit. Of course, that’s just my opinion. I’m not an authority on addiction.” Not unless my attraction to him fell into that category.

“It’s tough to know what another person is going through. But we’ve all got some sort of problems, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do.” And mine were escalating now that I’d seen Spencer again. “You know what makes it harder? Spencer is super close to Kirby. Kirby even helped him with his sobriety.”

“Yikes.” Tracy screwed up her face. “That’s major. You can’t mess with that kind of bond.”

“Don’t I know it.” Kirby had been clean and sober for a long time. But when he was drinking and using, he’d hurt a lot of people. He’d even published a bestselling biography about his wrongdoings. He’d left Mama out of the book, though. He didn’t acknowledge her until after she died, for all the good that had done. “I hate how Kirby expects to be absolved for all of the terrible things he did.”

She took a long, cool sip of her tea. “You’re the only person out there who hasn’t forgiven him.”

And rightly so, I thought. “Speaking of apologies… Spencer said he was sorry for not being more romantic when we were together.”

She watched me with empathy in her eyes. “I’ll bet that made seeing him even harder for you.”

“I’m just glad I have you to talk to.” Without her, I’d really be lost.

Our conversation halted when the waitress appeared with our specials. After she left, we dug into our meals.

A few minutes later, Tracy looked up from her plate and asked, “Did Spencer happen to mention that he’s going to be working with Dash on his next album?”

“No, he didn’t say anything about that.” Dash Smith was Tracy’s former fiancé. They’d gotten engaged years ago, when both of them were still trying to make it. But nowadays, Tracy was struggling again, and Dash was a big star. At the moment, he was off on a world tour. “How do you know Spencer is going to be working with Dash?”

“I read about it.”

“You need to stop reading about Dash and following his career.”

“I know.” Beneath the brim of her hat, her expression turned tortured. “I’m a glutton for punishment.”

I was, too, apparently, judging how badly Spencer was affecting me. But my hang-up was based on lust. Somewhere in the pit of her broken heart, Tracy was still in love with her ex. “It’s not healthy for you to obsess about him.”

“I only do that because he’s so famous now.” She glanced toward the rainy window, then back at me. “I don’t begrudge him his success. I know how hard he worked for it. Dash was poorer than you and I ever were. He barely had food on the table when he was growing up. But it’s just so painful to see him out there, living the high life, while I can’t even get another record deal.” She blew out a sigh. “Even my indie career sucks.”

“I hate that you’re going through this.” These days, Tracy was putting her music out there herself, without a label to back her. But nothing was really happening. She was barely getting any downloads, even though her songs were really good. “Just don’t lose hope. You know how things can turn around in this business.”

“They certainly turned around for Dash. He has the number one country album in the world. He’s even crossing over into the pop charts.”

“I’ll bet he’s lonely on the road.” Or I hoped that he was, for her sake.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure. With all those groupies out there, he’s probably suffering something awful.”

“Maybe you should reconsider his offer to help you.” She’d told me before that Dash had been reaching out to her. He’d even suggested them doing a duet.

“Are you kidding? I don’t need his charity. When I top the charts again, it’ll be because I earned it, not because I’m riding my ex’s coattails.”

“As much as I admire your principles, maybe you’re being stubborn about this, Trace.”

“Oh, yeah?” She shot me a silly grin. “At least I’ve gotten laid in the past five years.”

“Okay, smart-ass.” I laughed in spite of myself. “Punish me for being a good girl now.”

She leaned forward, pressing against the table. “Do you think Spencer wants you as badly as you want him?”

“Yes, I do.” I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. I’d seen it on his face; I’d felt it from his reactions to me.

She sat back in her seat. “I understand that you’re waiting for the right guy, and I want nothing more than for you to find him and live happily ever after. But if something does happen between you and Spencer, it won’t be the end of the world, will it? I mean, at least it’ll be with someone who’s being cautious about his sex life, too.”

I swallowed the last of my mac and cheese. “That’s your answer to my problems?”

“No, of course not.” She gentled her voice. “But it seems pretty obvious that your attraction to him isn’t going to go away anytime soon.”

“Maybe not. But just thinking about being with him scares me.” The man who’d triggered my celibacy, who’d made me long for a husband and children and everything else I was missing.

She gestured to our near-empty plates. “Do you want to share a piece of pie since we’re almost done eating?” She pushed the free-standing dessert menu toward me. “It might make you feel better.”

I could definitely use something sweet today. “Maybe I should get my own slice instead of us sharing.”

I flipped through the laminated pages, even if my hunger for Spencer wasn’t something a warm gooey pie was going to satisfy. But it was safer than Tracy’s other suggestion.

I knew better than to slip back into bed with my old lover. I just needed to stay focused on working for him.

And nothing else.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.