Made in Nashville: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance (5 page)

‘You know Dan Steele’s playing here tonight, right? Is that why we’re here?’

He hadn’t known. Not until he’d seen the name on the board outside One Eyed-Walt’s. Dan fucking Steele. That guy was a complete asshole. He’d almost cost him his contract with Gear Records, trying to take the deal from under him. But the label had stuck with Jared and he’d put Steele in hospital for taking liberties. Jared had heard he’d moved out of town, tried his luck in Canada, but now he was back and the word was he was proving popular in the bars. It was just a matter of time before a major player got interested. And when that happened, he would probably have to share a stage with him and refrain from throwing the dick off it.

‘Fuck.’ He took a kick at a lamppost.

‘We could go someplace else,’ Byron suggested.

‘No, man, we’re goin’ here. I’m not gonna let that tool take over the town.’ He pushed the door and stepped in.

The place was buzzing. There was a band up on stage receiving applause from the crowd as they came to the end of their set. Jared scanned the room as Byron headed for the bar. There was Honor, with the chick from the music store and two guys. Something in his gut turned. He didn’t like how close the dude was sitting.

‘What you drinking?’ Byron called.

‘Whatever,’ he responded. He was mad. He was mad because he was in the same room as Dan Steele. That worm just got under his skin. He was one of those people who skewed every situation for his own gain. He hated people like that. They were users. They screwed things up. They didn’t know what hard work was. He ground his teeth together.

‘Listen, Jed. I don’t really want any trouble tonight. I might have a gig lined up with Vince Gill next summer and…’ Byron began as Jared joined him at the bar.

‘Who said anything about trouble? What, you think it follows me around or somethin’?’ He grinned, picking up the bottle from the bar.

‘I was there the night you dropped him in the parking lot,’ Byron reminded.

‘History,’ Jared said.

‘You guys! You’re hysterical! I can’t believe you thought the Cowboys played hockey. You should have had your asses kicked for that!’ Mia clapped her hands together and swiped up her glass of bourbon.

Mia was losing it. She was on her third scotch of the night and was almost sitting in Eric’s lap. Meanwhile, on Honor’s side of the table, Wesley’s thigh was pressed against hers so tightly it was making her sweat.

‘So, the band was OK,’ Honor offered into the conversation. Actually they hadn’t been great but she’d paid them quite a lot of attention to avoid the back and forth mating ritual that was going on around her.

‘Jeez, doll, they were bad. But I like the next guy. He’s the one I told you about. I saw him at another bar last week,’ Mia informed the group.

‘More drinks?’ Eric offered.

‘I’ll get them.’ Honor leapt up.

‘Hey, you got the last two rounds. What have we got the guys for? Guys buy pretty girls drinks. Ain’t that right, Eric?’ Mia stretched her body, parting her shirt a little, giving Eric a glimpse of a red lace bra.

Wesley was removing a twenty from his wallet and Honor snatched it up, smiling.

‘Same again?’ she asked, urging Wesley to get up so she could get out. She’d sit on the outside of the booth when she came back and swing her legs sideways. She ignored Wesley’s sleazy grin and made for the bar. Maybe she should join Mia in getting drunk, that might just make the evening bearable. She edged past a table then came to a stop.

Her heart dropped from her chest and she screwed the twenty up in her hand. Right in front of her, blocking her path was Jack Tully. Jack ‘her ex-boyfriend’ Tully. She needed to turn, go the other way. She couldn’t see him. What the hell was he doing here? She could feel her cheeks heating up and then it happened. He took a step forward and their eyes locked.
Shit
. Now running away wasn’t an option. She pulled her shoulders back and took a step closer. She could deal with this. He couldn’t hurt her anymore.

‘Honor Blackwood,’ he stated, a lazy grin curling his lips. ‘Look at you.’

Look at you
. What did that mean? Her hand was at her hair before she could even take a breath. Her fingers brushed her scar.

‘Look at
you
. Here…in Nashville.’ It was all she could think to say.

‘Yeah. I couldn’t stay away forever. It’s where I belong.’

Arrogant. Self-obsessed.
What had she ever seen in him?

‘So, are you still making music?’ she asked.

He let out a laugh then. A full on, gut-shaking roll of a laugh that had diners turning from their chicken baskets to look at them. Had she made a joke?

‘Am I still making music. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh.’ He smoothed his fingers across the back of his neck. ‘I’m headlining here tonight. Dan Steele…that’s me.’ There was a smug edge to his tone.

This night was just getting better and better. The first time she’d been in a country bar for years and her ex-boyfriend, the guy who’d dumped her a week after the madman had slashed her face, was back in town.

‘It’s going well. Universal's sniffing around and Rock It were here last week,’ Dan continued.

He was living her dream
. He’d always been ambitious. Even at the beginning she’d had a feeling he’d been more interested in her fame than her personality. It had turned out her gut had been right.

‘That’s great.’ She didn’t mean it.

‘And how about you?’ Dan asked. The brown eyes settled on hers.

‘I’m good. I’m really good. Actually I’m headed back to the studio next week.’ She jutted out her chin a little. She was damned if she was going to give him any indication she was scared as hell.

‘Still with Micro?’

She nodded. ‘They’ve been really supportive.’

‘Good.’ He smiled. ‘You’re looking…better.’

Better!
He was the second person to say that recently and Larry had barely got away with it. This man had no right to comment. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck respond. She straightaway recalled the look on his face when he’d met her at the hospital that fateful night.

He reached forward, brushing her carefully placed section of hair with his fingers, revealing the right side of her face. At the contact she snapped her head back.

‘Don’t touch me!’ she hissed.

He’d seen everything from his position at the bar. That fucking asshole had touched her. He was seething with a rage bigger than anything he’d experienced in a long time. He slipped down from the stool and adjusted the sleeves of his jacket.

‘Excuse me a minute, Byron. There’s somethin’ I’ve gotta take care of.’ He started to walk.

‘Hey, where you going?’ Byron looked across the room. ‘Hey man, come on, leave it alone.’

‘Come on, Honor I was just…’ Dan started.

‘You were just what? Checking out whether or not it still makes you sick?’ she blasted.

She didn’t register Jared’s appearance until he grabbed two fistfuls of Dan’s shirt and pulled him off his feet.

‘What the hell?’ Dan exclaimed regaining his footing.

‘Honor.’ He paused. ‘Did you ask him to put his hands on you?’

She saw the heat of fury in his eyes, hatred crumpling his features. She knew his next actions were dependant on whatever she said or did next. What was he doing here? Had he come here because of Mia’s invitation?

‘Honor.’ He stopped again to take a breath and make things clear. ‘Did this jerk put his hands on you?’ He grabbed a handful of Dan’s shirt, rolling it tighter in his hands.

She nodded.

Jared shook his head, tightening his lips. ‘Outside,’ he snarled.

‘Oh what the hell, Jed! Are you crazy? This is bullshit. Honor, tell him,’ Dan yelled, trying to move out of Jared’s hold.

‘You do not put your hands on a woman unless she asks you to. Outside!’ Jared ordered.

‘Man, I’m on in fifteen minutes. I don’t need the heat here. I’ve got a reputation and…’ Dan began.

Honor was losing her resolve. She just wanted Dan gone, but did she want him unconscious in the street? That was what Jared Marshall was proposing. A dust up, an ass-kicking, dueling on the strip because she’d freaked out.

‘
You’ve
got a reputation? Yeah, man, well so have I. I guess you don’t remember,’ Jared spat.

‘Jed, man, come on,’ Byron said, arriving at the scene.

‘Stay out of it, Byron,’ Jared warned.

Byron looked to Honor. All she had to do was tell Jared to let Dan go. Why wasn’t her mouth moving? Why was she letting this play out?

‘Call security,’ Dan said, directing the question at Byron.

‘You either get your ass outside or I’m gonna drop you right here, right now, in front of the whole fucking bar,’ Jared threatened.

‘Man, come on,’ Dan said. ‘Please.’

He looked genuinely terrified. She hadn’t ever seen him look that way before. Jared’s hand was still at his throat and Dan was sweating.

‘Let him go,’ Honor stated.

He was so pumped up he wanted to thrash the life out of the asshole right there. Dan fucking Steele. Thinking he could put his hands on a woman like that. Touching
her
. He wanted to rip his throat out and put it on the menu as a special. He had to be taught a lesson.

‘He isn’t worth the trouble and…it isn’t your fight. It’s mine,’ Honor spoke.

‘Hey, I wasn’t fighting with you I just…’ Dan started.

‘Shut the fuck up, man!’ Jared yelled.

‘Let him go.’ She took a breath. ‘Just let him go.’

Her tone affected him. She meant what she said. But he wasn’t defending her, was he? He was standing up for everything he believed in. He would be reacting the same way if it was any girl. He had strong principals, values deeply ingrained inside him. When he saw someone disrespecting the rules he lived his life by, he saw red.

‘Jared, please.’

She’d called him by his full name. The name he’d introduced himself with the first time they’d met. He didn’t know why that’d made his back contract with a shot of something, but it had.

He pushed Dan away, sending him sprawling onto the floor. He leant over his flailing body, pointing a finger.

‘You ever touch a woman again before she asks and I’m gonna be there. I’m gonna be there to drag your sorry ass outside and put you back in the emergency room.’

He stepped back, pulled at the sleeves of his jacket and turned to Honor.

‘Are you OK?’

She nodded. ‘I appreciate you stepping in and everything but I had it covered.’

‘I know that. It’s just…well me and him, we have history and…’ Jared started. She looked so small stood there, in faded blue jeans and a white v-neck tee. Her beautiful, innocent face coupled with that raven hair. It moved him. It moved him in a way he’d never felt before.

‘I know it might be an imposition.’ She stopped, wet her lips. ‘But I spent all my cash on buying drinks to escape Wesley over there and…’ She met his eyes. ‘Could you please take me home?’

Those eyes were pleading with him. She’d had enough of something and whatever Dan Steele had been hassling her about had hurt her. He should have wiped the floor with him.

‘Sure.’ He smiled at her. ‘I’d be honored.’

When she’d told Mia she was leaving it had hardly registered. Her friend had been in a lip-lock with Eric and Wesley had moved on to chatting to a pretty brunette who looked half-wasted.

She didn’t know why she’d asked Jared Marshall to take her home. Maybe because he’d defended her honor. Or maybe just because he’d been in front of her when she realized she had to get out of there before she was forced to sit through Dan’s set on stage.

She knew just how much she’d drunk when she got on the back of his Harley. He didn’t have a spare helmet so he’d given her his. When the bike pulled away she’d clung on to him before the motion sent her sprawling to the sidewalk.

Leather underneath her fingers, the heat from his body radiating through her hands, warming her to the core. She’d leaned into him, enjoying the sensation of the ride as they flew through town and out into the suburbs she called home.

They’d stopped outside her house but she hadn’t moved yet. She just sat on the pillion, her hands still on his hips, her eyes closed. She just wanted the world to stop turning, her life to slow down and her memories to stop creeping up on her when she wasn’t expecting it.

He’d turned the engine off but she hadn’t let go. He didn’t move. He just sat on the bike, watching the trees shift in the breeze, listening to the faint hum of the traffic from the freeway. For whatever reason she needed him to be here for her. His deadline of six days couldn’t matter less right now.
She
was all that mattered.

He felt her fingers release and his body tensed, as if something had gone missing. He felt her leave the bike and he turned. He watched her take off the helmet and shake her hair loose. It fell onto her shoulders and he had to swallow. She was beautiful. Not just pretty, but heaven-sent beautiful.

She was looking at him, standing there on the sidewalk, her eyes fixed on his, unmoving, unspeaking. He didn’t know what to say. Right now he was concerned if he said anything she would run. He didn’t want her to go. As that realization hit he shifted on the bike and she took a step back.

‘Do you drink coffee?’

She knew she needed one, but the words that had fallen from her lips had caught her by surprise. What was she doing inviting him inside? Larry was the only guy who’d set foot in the house since Jack…Dan…whatever he was calling himself. She was pulling at a curl of hair and looking back at him, waiting for an answer. He wasn’t saying anything.

‘Sorry, you’ve probably got somewhere else to be. Thanks for the ride and…’ she started.

‘I drink coffee. Sometimes. You know, if I’ve run out of beer and the twenty-four hour liquor store isn’t open,’ he interrupted. ‘And especially when I’m ridin’. Wouldn’t be smart to get a DUI right before my tour.’

She smiled and clapped her hands against her thighs, backing up towards her gate. She watched him swing himself off the bike and position it against the curb. Her stomach was swirling with beer and fries she hadn’t wanted and nervous energy brought on by Dan’s reappearance.

Jared let out a low whistle as he joined her and observed the house in front of them.

‘Is this really where you live or have we stopped by a concert hall or something?’

‘It’s ostentatious isn’t it?’ She sighed.

‘Hell, I’m not even sure I know what that really means.’

‘It’s showy and pretentious. I had so much money back then it seemed the right thing to do. Get rid of it by hiding it in a luxury building.’

‘I bought a monster truck for me and a horse for my sister. Does that count?’

She let out a laugh, looking up at him. He laughed too and any unease she’d felt just melted away. Those eyes seemed to have that effect on her. When he looked at her every barrier she put up against life just tumbled down.

‘I stink at making coffee but I might have some beer. Just the one, mind. I don’t want to be responsible for tainting your reputation.’

‘What’s with everybody concernin’ themselves with my reputation tonight? Don’tcha’ll think I can look after myself?’ He lowered his gaze, raised his eyebrow up into his cap.

‘There’s no right answer to that one. I’m not even going to attempt a response. Come on.’ She led the way. ‘Come meet my pretentious palace.’

She hadn’t flicked a light switch on when they’d entered the house. Instead she’d clapped her hands together and commanded the electricity to come on like she was summoning a wish from a genie. She’d ordered music on the sound system and got the air conditioning down to a subtle breath of cool.

He followed her into the kitchen.

‘So what d’you do if you want food? You got a pop-out chef or somethin’?’

‘That would be cool. Or maybe not. He’d probably make all that stuff with seeds.’ She produced two beer bottles from the fridge and popped the tops off them before handing one to him.

‘Oh man, I know all about seeds and that green stuff…is it wheatgrass? Buzz keeps orderin’ them for me and I keep feedin’ them to the plants down at Farley’s Diner. I tell you, those window boxes could win prizes.’

She let out a laugh and he felt the wide smile that grew across her face. She was different tonight. She was less tense. Probably because he wasn’t forcing her to think about all the things she’d been avoiding thinking about for ten years.

‘Come through and sit on my genuine leather cow hide,’ she invited. How could he refuse an invitation like that?

There he was. The latest superstar of country music, sat on her sofa, drinking a beer. He had one leg crossed over the other, strips of naked flesh visible under his ripped jeans. He was still wearing his leather jacket and his cap. She’d never seen him without either. She flushed as he turned his eyes away from her décor and directed them at her.

‘So, why are we listenin’ to some dance/rap combination here?’ He raised a hand to indicate the music playing.

‘Don’t you like it?’

‘Do you?’

‘Were you expecting Vince Gill?’

‘If you clap your hands does he appear?’

She looked away from him then, focused on her sheepskin rug lying in front of the expensive fake flame fire. Just like everyone else, he didn’t understand. Why had she expected him to? He knew nothing about her. He was just paying her attention to get her to join his tour. The publicity at having a freak show as a supporting artist would be huge.

‘What are you so afraid of, Honor? D’you think if you listen to country music Tammy Wynette’s gonna leap out of that iPod and hit you with a six string?’

‘Listen, me inviting you in for a drink doesn’t give you a right to ask me questions like that,’ she snapped back.

‘How can you fight what’s in your soul like that? Listenin’ to stuff like this - manufactured, weak, poorly-constructed bullshit - when you feel nothin’ for it?’ he continued.

She shook her head. She shouldn’t have invited him in. It was a step too far. Going to the studios again was one thing, inviting a man into her home, one who wanted her performing to thousands of people every night…it was madness.

‘I’m sick and tired of people thinking they know what’s best for me! You, Larry, Mia and him! Seeing him tonight, seeing the man I used to share a life with, living my dream … ’ She stopped when she realized she was getting more and more worked up. Damn him! She was letting him get to her. She swallowed then took a jagged breath. ‘When we were together, after my attack …  Dan Steele wanted me to spend some time in a mental health facility out of state.’

She looked across the room and watched the light go out of his eyes.

He bit his teeth together and tried to remain in control. That asshole. She had had a relationship with that fucking piece of scum. He wanted to yell at the top of his voice. He wanted to pick something up and smash it to pieces. Instead he sat there, keeping it all inside, fighting to temper his anger.

‘I’m sorry. I’ve had way too much to drink and you don’t want to hear about this.’

He put the beer bottle to his mouth and drank down as much as he could in one gulp. He wished he’d laid Dan Steele out and left him unconscious on the floor.

‘Tell me,’ he urged.

‘We didn’t date for long…a couple of months. Then…well I had my accident and…he suggested what he suggested and we broke up.’ His interest was piqued. His eyes found hers again.

‘He thought after something like that you should recover quick or be locked away?’ he asked.

She touched her hair, bringing it over her cheek. ‘He didn’t deal with it very well.’

‘He had the easy role.’ He hadn’t meant to but the tone he’d attached to his voice was pure aggression.

She shrugged, turning her body to the side in a defensive move. ‘After it happened he…he couldn’t look at me.’

Before he could check himself he’d shaken his head and slammed the bottle down on the coffee table that separated them. He put a hand to his head, and clenched the other into a fist.

‘I should have plastered his face across the walls of that bar.’ He shifted on the seat, uneasy and mad as hell.

‘I don’t blame him for that. I mean, at the beginning I was on the cover of
Country Music
and after, well I’d have been lucky to make it onto
Plastic Surgeon’s Monthly
.’ She shrugged and let out an unconvincing laugh.

There was an ugly-looking ornament on a low table to his right. He curled his fingers into his palm and thought about throwing it against the wall. Instead he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his iPhone.

‘Kill this crap,’ he said, indicating the music.

She clapped her hands twice and the room was thrown into silence.

‘After we met last week, I couldn’t get that song outta my head. I hope you don’t mind.’ He touched the screen.

The second the first note played she recognized it as her song,
Goodbye Joe
. But the way he’d changed the phrasing, the way he’d altered the composition was nothing short of masterful. The more she heard, the more she realized what he’d done. He’d made the bones of her song into something that sounded like it could be a hit record.

But she didn’t want that. Her songs were
her
songs. They weren’t for changing and they weren’t for public consumption. She shook her head. No, she couldn’t think like that anymore, not if she wanted this second chance at a career. She was just about to go back to the studios and start recording new material. She’d be working with a producer, other musicians with ideas. There was also always the possibility that another artist would want to cover her music. She couldn’t get protective and insular like that anymore.

The real truth was it felt uncomfortable sitting opposite someone in the country spotlight who had taken her rough start to a song and made it into something…special.

On the iPhone his voice hit a note on the bridge and goose bumps ran up her arms. The tone and edge to his vocals was so raw, so powerful. It was as if he told a story with every line he sang.

The song came to an end and she sat unmoved, holding onto the last note in her head.

‘I have this principle I’ve stuck with since I started.’ He picked up the phone. ‘I never record anything but my own material and I don’t intend changin’ that.’

She watched him. He put the phone back in the pocket of his jeans and picked up his beer bottle.

‘Work with me here, Honor. Let’s try some stuff together,’ he suggested.

She was already shaking her head before he’d finished the sentence. She’d barely got her mind around the fact she was going back to the industry next week. Working with another artist on new material, it wasn’t something she’d done before. It wasn’t even something she’d considered before.

‘What happens then? We write some songs together and you force me on tour with you?’ The statement had come out a lot harsher than she’d meant.

‘Honor, I’d never force you to do anything.’

She swallowed as she looked at him. That comment had hit him hard. He was breathing heavy and biting his bottom lip.

‘Listen, I made that track last week and I wanted you to hear it. That’s all. Thank you for the drink.’ He stood up, putting his hands in his pockets. She stood up too, feeling she ought to. He’d made it clear he was leaving.

He moved out of the room towards the hall, heading for the front door and Honor followed.

‘Do I have to command the door to open or does it work with the handle?’ he asked.

She opened it for him, letting in a draught of warm air. This felt awkward.

‘I’ll see you,’ he said, stepping out onto the porch and touching his hand to his cap in goodbye.

‘Jared.’ It was a desperate sound. Almost a cry for help.

He turned to face her. Those stormy gray eyes were wide. They looked soft and honest. She was suddenly blanketed in a feeling that she could trust him, implicitly. That she could tell him how she felt about things and he wouldn’t judge. It was a strong gut reaction and one which made her start talking.

‘So I’m…I’m at Black Monkey on Tuesday, about eleven for a couple of hours or so,’ she stated.

He didn’t say anything, just carried on watching her, as if waiting for her to continue.

‘I’ve never written a song with another artist before,’ she stated.

He shook his head and his lips spread into a smile. ‘Yes you have.’ He tapped the pocket of his jeans and the phone within. ‘We just heard it.’