Something I Need (xoxo Nashville Book 1) (9 page)

“Sex noises. And an incessant banging on her wall.”

“I’m appalled.” He smacked his chest with mock indignation. “Miss Jonte, were you reading porn on the plane?”

“It wasn’t porn, per se.”

“Fuck. Did you just say
per se
?”

“Shut up,” she mumbled and then struck him across the head with one of the overstuffed black pillows.

“Come on.” He pulled himself up off the bed. “Let’s find the porn-loving Aussie a bed.”

After that it didn’t take too long for Jonte to settle on a frame. Although Cash was intrigued by the fact that, despite all their clowning around and the non-stop wall-banging sex jokes he’d made, she’d still picked one with a fully upholstered headboard. Even though it was a relatively cheap bed, it looked luxurious, finished off in a classic beige linen fabric with button tufting. He packed the boxes into the back of Pop’s truck and tried really hard not to think about doing things to her that would result in banging her head against it. Of course, he failed miserably.

J
onte’s quest
for a gig was painful. She’d gotten all dressed up in her new Dolly-approved clothes and even spent hours curling her hair before heading out that first day, but it didn’t help.

“So you’re a soloist?” asked the bartender with big 80’s retro hair and Pamela Anderson breasts.

Jonte smiled and nodded eagerly, relieved the woman hadn’t waved her out the door already like the last three places.

“I guess you’re attractive enough.” The woman pulled a beer and set it on the bar in front of an older guy in his mid 50’s with greasy hair. “You’ve got sixty seconds, so whip out your guitar and show me what you’ve got.”

Jonte fidgeted with her denim shorts and kicked her boots against the wooden floor. “Um, the thing is, I don’t actually play the guitar.”

“You’re a soloist and you don’t play?”

“I sing and I –”

“Don’t bother.” The bartender shook her head. “Do yourself a favour and find a band or somebody to accompany you.”

“But I –”

“Do you know how many wannabes walk through those doors every day?” She pointed at the heavy wooden doors. “Too many to count. Good luck and all,” she said before turning away.

“I’ll give you twenty for a private show in the bathroom.”

Jonte eyed the slimy barfly grinning and grabbing for his wallet.

“Back off, Walter,” the bartender growled. “Scoot,” she added, waving her hand at Jonte and nodding at the doors.

“If she don’t want it, why don’t you bend over and I’ll put the twenty in those juicy tits,” Mr. Slimy said to the bartender.

Jonte shook her head in disgust and headed to the door. Nineteen years of lessons and practice, and all she’d managed to do was get propositioned by some pathetic barfly.

She tried four more bars, striking out at each and every one. Damn it! It was time to call it a day. She wasn’t stupid; she’d known it would be a challenge, but she simply had to make this work.

This is your dream. No one makes it on their first day.

Regroup and take control, that’s what she needed to do. She jumped in a cab and headed back to the apartment.

Her plan had been to hit every bar on Broadway as quickly as possible, but if this morning was any indication, she needed a modified plan of attack and some guitar lessons stat. No use burning through all of Broadway in a week.

Besides, Jonte still had an ace up her sleeve – she was a finalist in the American Country Star auditions next month. The judges had loved her online audition tape, and their invitation to perform in the upcoming live summer auditions had been the reassurance and push she’d needed to fly to the US.

Jonte thanked the cabbie and headed for her apartment, rethinking her options.

Worst case scenario: she’d just have to work at Cash’s until the auditions rolled around.

Best case scenario: she’d get lucky and score a gig before then.

Her cell phone rang as she neared the stairwell entrance. She pulled it out of her pocket and cursed at the sight of Jack’s name on the screen. Bugger. Her time was up.

“Hi, Jack,” she said, faking enthusiasm and surprise.

“Ah, if it isn’t my elusive little sister.” Jonte imagined Jack shaking his head and pretending to be pissed when he really wasn’t.

“What can I do for you, old man?” A smile spread across her face, her enthusiasm now real.

“Hmmm. What can you do for me? I would love for you to come home so Mum can stop ringing me in a panic ten times a day and asking whether I’ve been checking the news for homicides in the US.”

“That sounds a little melodramatic.” Jonte leaned against the brick wall next to the stairwell. Clearly it was a family trait she had inherited in spades.

“You know Mum.” Jack added a dry chuckle at the end.

“I’m not coming home.” Jonte pre-empted, wanting to make that point perfectly clear.

You’re a strong independent woman. This is your life.

“She’s doing my damn head in, J. I can’t handle the constant calls. She called seven times yesterday. Seven. You need to come home and put an end to this madness.”

“Hey, I’ve done exactly what they wanted the last three and a half years. My degrees are finished and this is my time. You’re a big boy, Jack. Plus, you have Josh and Justin there for reinforcements.”

“They won’t answer my calls, or hers!”

“Not my problem.” Jonte was taken back by how blunt she was being with her favorite brother. “I promised Dad I’d come home in six weeks if I couldn’t get settled.”

“And are you settled?”

She nodded, not that he could see her. “I have a place to live and a casual job.”

“Oh, Christ. You’re never coming home, are you?”

“I love you, Jack. Everything will be fine.”

“Nice evasion. Well, seeing this call is costing me a bomb, stay safe and reply to my messages next time. Okay?”

“Okay. Bye, Jack.”

“Love you, J.”

Jonte stuffed her phone back into her pocket and pushed off the wall.

“Jonte!”

Cash’s voice startled her. She spun around and spied him stepping off his bike. Wow, she’d been too wrapped up in her phone call to notice him approaching or even hear his bike.

“Hey.” She smiled and walked towards him, honestly happy to see a friendly face right now.

“How was your morning?” He pulled off his helmet.

“Not great.” Okay so that was a slight understatement, but she was trying to remain positive and upbeat.

“That sucks.”

“Pft! I was probably a little too optimistic. You were right about the whole guitar thing.”

“Sorry,” he said, sounding like he genuinely meant it. “I won’t say ‘I told you so,’ if that helps?” He bumped his shoulder into hers.

Huh.

“I think you just did.”

“Okay, you got me. But I didn’t say it in a mean way.”

“True.”

“Have you eaten? I’ll make you something if you come give me a hand restocking.” Cash gestured for her to follow him to the bar.

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass. I need to find a guitar teacher.”

“Why don’t you ask Dolly to teach you the basics?”

“She plays?”

“She does. Our mother taught us when we were little.”

Holy crapballs.

“
Us
? Does that mean you play too?”

Cash shook his head. “Don’t even think about it.” He wiggled his finger at her.

“But you play?” No way was she letting him off the hook without an answer.

“Not anymore.”

“But if the world was under attack by giant killer aliens or something and you absolutely had to play, then you could?”

He laughed at her ridiculousness and made his way to the glass door. “Not even then,” he threw out over his shoulder.

“What if –”

“Ask Dolly,” he yelled back playfully and unlocked the door.

“Fine. Am I still right for a shift later?”

“Sure. Catch you then.” He waved and disappeared behind the glass door.

Well there you go. Thank you universe.

* * *

C
ash locked
the door behind him and couldn’t hide his grin.
Giant killer aliens?
That woman was too crazy. He shook his head and headed for his office.

Once inside, he checked his emails and replied to a few. He was part way through paying a few suppliers’ accounts when his cell rang.

“Hey,” Tanner’s voice echoed down the line.

“Tanner.”

“So, I hear Dolly has a potentially permanent house guest?”

“Seems good news travels fast.” Cash clicked ‘confirm’ on the next payment on the screen in front of him.

“And a job working with you.”

“It’s not like I created a position just for her. I offered her some casual work, that’s it. Anyway, if you know all of this, why are you calling?”

“Just checking in.” Tanner’s deep laugh bellowed in Cash’s ear and he switched the call to speaker to prevent further deafness. “I can’t wait for Dolly to call and tell me you’ve built her a stage at your place.”

“Not likely,” Cash said, snorting. Although, he would be lying if he didn’t admit that the thought had crossed his mind. Fleetingly. He wouldn’t actually do that. Plus, he didn’t even know if she was any good. Not that it really mattered. She was country and he couldn’t handle that shit. This place was his sanctuary in a town full of Stetsons and guitars. Why in the hell would he go and invite that in?

“But not impossible,” Tanner said, his tone teasing, their twenty-two years of history telling Cash how much Tanner loved riling him up.

“Look, Tanner, I’m getting ready to open. Is this conversation over?”

“Touchy, touchy. I guess I shouldn’t bring up the pool table incident, then?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Is there anything you don’t know?”

“Apparently not. I guess I better let you get back to work.”

“Later,” Cash said and ended the call. He rubbed the palms of his hands across his face and then through his hair. How was it possible his life had been turned upside down in less than a week? No matter what he did to try to release some of his pent up energy – he’d been getting up early most mornings to go to the gym in Tanner’s apartment complex, taken his horse, Casper, out for a long ride yesterday, and drained the monster twice already today – he couldn’t get a certain brunette Aussie and her tiny shorts and luscious lips out of his mind.

On cue, his cell rang and her name appeared on the screen.

“Jonte?”

“I’m just outside. Can you let me in?”

“Sure.”

He hung up and made his way through the bar.

“Change your mind about lunch?” He couldn’t help but tease. Without his permission their flirty banter had become his favourite part of his day. He’d get all antsy in the mornings at the thought of when or if she’d call. Completely pathetic. It had to stop. Tomorrow he’d cut this shit out.

“Not exactly. I want to do something nice for Dolly, maybe make her dinner or something?”

“Buttering her up so she’ll teach you how to play?” He locked up behind her.

“No! Okay, maybe a little. But really, she’s been so sweet to me.”

“She’s a shitty cook, so she’d probably like that.”

“What does she like to eat?”

H
is customers were
busy sipping away on their drinks, so Cash took the opportunity to lean through the food service window and watch Jonte fuss about in his kitchen. Earlier he’d said she was welcome to anything in there, which of course she’d balked at, claiming he was on that white horse again. Utter garbage. But she’d finally acquiesced when he’d suggested she simply double whatever she was cooking so he’d have dinner too. Yeah, yeah, sneaky and shifty on so many levels.

Pete had arrived fifteen minutes ago and was doing his usual food prep while Jonte bustled around him. On more than one occasion, Cash had caught Pete checking out her ass. Dirty perv. But he couldn’t blame the man for looking. It was a spectacular ass.

Jonte smiled when she busted him watching, but just as quickly returned her attention to drizzling olive oil over the chicken breast she’d just wrapped up in bacon, and then covered the tray with foil. Jeez, he sure hoped what she was cooking tasted as good as it looked.

“Are you crushin’ on Pete?”

Cash spun around to find his twin propped up on the other side of the bar, her eyebrow raised sky high. Why hadn’t she ducked under the bar to join him like she normally would?

“Jonte’s making us dinner. I was just checkin’ to make sure she hadn’t set my place on fire.”

“Sure you were.”

Ignoring her teasing, Cash instead poured her a beer. “You’re home early.” He set the glass down on the coaster in front of Dolly.

“Yeah, I left Stacey to shut up for the night. Thought I’d see how Jonte’s day of bar trawlin’ went.”

“Not great.” He shook his head. He’d really hoped she would prove him wrong this morning. For her sake, of course. “She’s gonna hit you up for guitar lessons.”

“Pretty sure you’d be a better teacher,” Dolly lilted and took a gulp of her beer. “The two of ya could nail that whole student–teacher forbidden love thing, or just nail each other.”

“Christ. You need to give up on whatever ideas you’ve got spinning around in that head of yours already.”

Dolly simply smiled a superior smile, like she knew some secret he didn’t, shrugged, and took her beer with her to the kitchen door.

Jonte’s eyes lit up when she spied Dolly walking into the kitchen. He was happy the two of them had bonded so effortlessly. Although, it was kind of impossible not to be drawn to her.

Like him, Dolly didn’t have a lot of friends. They tended not to let people get too close, a lesson learned long ago. It was easier to keep their distance, rather than suffer the inevitable disappointment.

With more animation than a Pixar film, Jonte told Dolly all about her experiences from earlier. Had they made the right decision in letting her in? While she’d only been in their world for a few days, he worried about what would happen to Dolly when Jonte returned to Australia.