by Sandy James
But he still wondered exactly what was in this for Chuck…
“Shouldn’t you get back to work?” Ethan asked, ignoring Chuck’s comment. What was happening between Ethan and Chelsea was none of Chuck Austin’s fucking business.
“Damn fine-looking woman,” Chuck said as he headed toward the studio.
Ethan followed, wishing the recording was done so he could get her out of there. At least now, Savannah had joined them. She was sure to offer some great suggestions to improve things.
After giving Brad a friendly slap on the back, Ethan took the seat next to him while Chuck joined the women in the booth. “How bad is it really?”
Brad turned to give him an exasperated frown.
“That bad, huh?”
“That bad.”
“Shit.” Ethan sat back and stared at Chuck through the glass. “What are we gonna do about it?”
“Now that you’re here,” Brad replied. “I have an idea…”
* * *
“One more time?” Chuck asked and Ethan refrained from punching him in the nose.
Instead of giving into that impulse, he sang the verse again. Then he waited—with what little patience he had left—for Chuck to repeat it. At least he was on melody this time.
Brad was right. As usual. When Ethan sang first, showing Chuck exactly how the notes should sound, Chuck was able to repeat it reasonably close.
Brad had also been right about adding Savannah backup vocals as well. That had been done in two takes, then they’d focused on getting Chuck’s tracks down. If they could only get Chuck to nail the last verse, Brad would be able to blend together one good version of all of Chuck’s fits and spurts of decent singing.
Technology was going to save this song.
“Ready?” Brad said, his tone revealing his lost tolerance.
“Ready,” Chuck replied. As the music played, he sang the last verse for the fourth time.
“Got it!” Brad said, pulling off his own headphones and setting them aside. Ethan was amazed his pronouncement wasn’t followed with a “Hallelujah!”
Chuck extended his hand to Ethan. “Thanks, buddy.”
Since he seemed sincere, Ethan shook his hand. “You’re welcome.”
Anything for Chelsea…
She’d taken off her own headphones, as had Savannah. While Savannah headed out to talk to her fiancé, Chelsea joined Ethan and Chuck. After taking Ethan’s hand, she smiled at her duet partner.
“Thank you so much for doing this,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll love the finished product.”
“Trusting Hitman to polish it up pretty,” Chuck replied.
Although he hated it, Ethan didn’t make a peep when Chelsea kissed Chuck on the cheek. She was only thanking him.
“How ’bout a quick selfie?” Chuck asked, jerking his phone from his pocket. He sidled up to Chelsea and she obliged him with a picture. He waved Ethan over. “All three of us.”
Ethan would’ve sooner had his arm broken, but Chelsea’s weak smile made him change his mind and give in to Chuck’s stupid request. Instead of a decent smile, he did an open mouth, wide-eyed campy expression.
“I need to run,” Chuck said, pushing his phone back in his pocket as he left the booth. “Got a hot date who’s probably tired of waiting on me.”
“Have fun,” Ethan said, glad to see the guy head up the stairs.
Savannah followed close behind.
Alone with Chelsea, Ethan asked, “Are you hungry, baby?”
“I’m starving! How about we go get some pizza? I’ve been dying for Luigi’s deep dish. We can pick it up and go someplace quiet.”
“Luigi’s it is.” He kissed her forehead.
Before they could step out of the recording booth, Brad pushed the intercom and his voice filled the room. “Could the two of you do me a favor? Please?”
“Of course!” Chelsea replied before Ethan could. “What is it?”
“Sing the damn song just once so I can hear what it should sound like? All I can hear in my head right now is Chuck sounding like a scalded cat.”
About to refuse, Ethan bit back his words when Chelsea turned her pleading eyes on him. They clearly weren’t getting out of there until Ethan sang with her.
He narrowed his eyes at Brad, who grinned in return as he put his headphones back on. Chelsea did the same, so Ethan gave in and donned his own set.
“I only need it once,” Brad said.
“Because you’re recording it,” Ethan drawled. “As usual.”
“Absolutely.”
“Asshole.”
“Takes one to know one.” With a grin, Brad started the instrumental playback.
* * *
Singing always touched a part of Chelsea’s heart. It was one of the reasons she felt so blessed that she could earn a living doing what she loved best in the world. Even if she’d never been anything more than a backup singer, she would’ve been content.
Before Ethan came into her life, singing had been wonderful; with him, it seemed as close to heaven as she could get here on Earth.
One take was all they needed, because performing the love song had her heart reaching for his. And his heart had reached back.
Savannah had returned to sit at Brad’s side. When the recording ended, she’d wiped away a tear.
Chelsea wasn’t at all surprised to find one of her own tears had spilled over her lashes to trace a lazy path down her cheek.
Ethan brushed it away before giving her a smile that made her realize her life was never going to be the same.
I’m falling in love him.
Hurrying into the booth, Savannah hugged Chelsea. “That was awesome.” Then she turned to Ethan and playfully swatted his chest. “You missed your true calling, my friend.”
“She’s right,” Chelsea said. “You shouldn’t waste that voice, Ethan. It’s a damned shame.”
“Not wasting it,” he retorted. “I’m gonna sing a duet with you, remember?”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
Savannah chimed in, “You two really should record an album. Double platinum. Guaranteed.”
“When hell freezes over,” Ethan insisted as he led the women out of the room.
After setting his headphones aside, Brad rose and stretched. “God forbid that he ever deign to follow in Crawfish’s footsteps.”
“You remember what Brad suggested before, Chelsea?” Savannah asked. “Now’s the time to start the buzz with a few teaser videos.”
“I remember. And it’s a great idea, but which version should we use?” Chelsea asked. “I mean Brad can probably clean up Chuck’s, but I’m sure it’ll take some time.”
“Ethan’s version, of course,” Savannah replied. “Not the whole song. Just thirty seconds or so…”
Brad fiddled with his controls. “Could have it up later tonight, if you’d like. What d’ya think, Chelsea?”
“If it brings in more sales, then it raises more money for cancer research. So what’s to lose?” Then she realized she needed a bit of advice. “I probably should check with my publicist first.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Seriously? Something this silly needs to go through your publicist?”
Bristling, she frowned before realizing he was right. It was just a few bars of a song. “No, I guess not…” She made a mental note to tell Will the next time they spoke.
Grateful for all Brad and Savannah had done for her, Chelsea said, “We’re heading for pizza. Let me thank you both by buying you a very late supper.”
A low growl rose from Ethan.
“What?” she asked, hoping he wasn’t going to pitch a fit about a few seconds of his gorgeous voice being released.
Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, “I want to be alone with you.”
“You’re not mad about Brad releasing the song.”
He shook his head and whispered, “I’m mad we’re not alone.”
His warm breath caused a delicious shiver to race t
hrough her. But her revelation that she was falling in love him made her vulnerable. Selfish as it might be, she wanted a little more time to win his heart before they lost themselves in what was sure to be a consuming physical relationship. Once they were at the wedding and away from Nashville and the paparazzi, they would have more privacy anyway. It seemed like the perfect time to take the next step in their relationship.
She crooked her finger to bring him close again. “We’ll have plenty of alone time tomorrow after lunch with my mom,” she whispered. “Promise.”
Savannah seemed concerned as she shifted her gaze between them. “We could take a rain check…”
“Nope,” Ethan said, making Chelsea smile. “Let me get the munchkin. We’re all going out for pizza.”
Chapter Seventeen
The four-story building housing Chelsea’s condo was a fortress. To even get close to the entrance, Ethan had to pass through a parking lot security gate manned by a guy with massive arms and no neck. After parking his car, he entered a two-story lobby and had to sign in with two uniformed security guards, one of whom checked his ID against a list of approved guests. The younger guard eyed him suspiciously while the older one gave him directions to Chelsea’s condo.
Since she was on the first floor, Ethan had to wander a long hallway to reach her front door. He pushed the doorbell. His finger had barely touched the button when the door swung open. He grinned at the notion that Chelsea had been watching through the peephole for him to arrive.
After pizza last night, she’d been exhausted, so he hadn’t pressed the point. Thankfully, only a few people had bugged her for autographs or pictures, probably because the restaurant was all but deserted by the time they got there. Chelsea and Caroline had both yawned through the whole meal.
She’d needed rest and he was still pretty stiff and sore. So he let her get some sleep, no matter how badly he’d wished they could have had some time to themselves. Now, he faced lunch with her mother.
What would that inquisition be like?
Unfortunately, the face that frowned at him through the now open door wasn’t Chelsea’s. A woman who couldn’t be more than five feet tall with short spiked brown hair and glasses with thick purple frames swept Ethan a hard look that started at his face and stopped at his hands. “Where’s the package?” the irritated brunette asked.
He quirked an eyebrow. “Package?”
“Yeah, the package you were supposed to—” Her mouth shifted to a surprised O. “You’re not the pharmacy delivery guy.”
“I’m not the pharmacy delivery guy.”
She covered her glasses with her hand and bowed her head. “Fuck. Please tell me that you’re not—”
“Ethan!” Chelsea called from where she’d stepped into the tiled foyer of her condo.
“Hi, baby.” As he stepped across the threshold, the brunette backed up to give him room. Hoping to put her at ease, he smiled. “You must be the infamous Addie.”
“I am,” she replied. “And you’re Ethan Walker.” She stuck out her hand in greeting. “Pleasure to meet you.” She cocked her head at Chelsea. “She’s told me a lot about you.”
“She’s told me about you, too,” he said. “You’ve gotta know she really depends on you.”
Quaintly, the woman blushed. He was surprised she didn’t drag her toe across the tile and say, “Aw shucks.” Instead, she said, “Thanks.”
“What were you ladies expecting to be delivered?” Ethan asked.
As though the question were a cue, Addie sneezed. “Allergy medicine,” she replied before sniffling.
“Hard frost predicted tonight,” he said. “Should give you some relief.”
Addie shook her head. “It’s not hay fever. It’s the cat.”
“Cat?”
Chelsea nodded. “My cat. Loki.” Turning, she called down the hall, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”
The tinkling of a tiny bell announced the animal’s entrance before it appeared. Loki was a black cat with a heart-shaped patch of white on his chest. After an affectionate rub against Chelsea’s leg, the cat sat, wrapped his long tail around his paws, and focused intense yellow eyes on Ethan.
Why did he feel as though he were being judged?
The women seemed greatly amused by the cat’s inspection, grinning at each other before Addie let out another sneeze.
“Why would you get a cat if your assistant is allergic to them?” he asked.
“I didn’t,” Chelsea replied.
“I got it for her,” Addie said.
Ethan knit his brows. “You got it? That makes no sense. Why would you want a cat hanging around here when you’re allergic?”
“She wanted a pet and cats are easier than dogs.” With a smile, Addie said, “I’m allergic to most of those, too. And goldfish are so fucking boring.”
“Potty mouth,” Chelsea said, scooping up Loki.
“Like a sailor,” Addie said with a wink. “It’s what you love best about me. No bullshit when Addie’s on the job.”
With a flip of her wrist, Chelsea motioned to him. “C’mon in, Ethan. I was almost ready to go.”
It wasn’t as if he was in a hurry to get to her mother’s home. He had no idea what he was going to say to her or how she’d react to her daughter dating a guy who might have one of the worst reputations in Tennessee. Since Chelsea never seemed to judge his rather sordid past, he hoped that meant she’d come to terms with it. But what about her mother?
Instead of admitting his anxiety, he followed Chelsea from the foyer into an enormous living area with high ceilings.
Considering the place was all white, glass, and chrome, he was shocked Addie would choose a black cat. The only color was found in the dark hardwood floors and the vibrant red and royal-blue pillows and throws on the plush sectional. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over a lake.
“This place is awesome,” he said. “From the outside, you’d never know how huge it is in here. Just looks like an apartment building.”
“Yeah, surprised me, too. I toured it thinking it wouldn’t be anything special. But it was. The complex is built into a hill, so its size is deceptive—looks small outside but is huge inside. And I love the security here.” A smile blossomed. “Do you know who my closest neighbor is?”
Considering the tight security he’d pass through, he wouldn’t be too shocked at any celebrity she named. “No, who?”
“Grace Burns. You know, the author.”
Ethan knew the name well. The woman wrote some of the best thrillers he’d ever read, horror stories mostly. “That doesn’t scare you?” he teased. “I mean, the stuff that woman dreams up…After I read her last book, I had to sleep with the lights on for a week.”
When Addie giggled, he grinned at her.
“Actually, it did at first,” Chelsea replied. “Some of her stories give me the willies.” She set Loki down on the sofa and stroked his back as he arched to meet her touch and let out a rumbling purr.
“He loves you,” Ethan commented. “All my cat does is hunt mice in the barn. If I tried to pet him like that, I’d lose some skin.”
“Loki’s a pet, not a barn cat. I love having him around. Gives me company when I get—” She frowned. “I need to grab my jacket. Boy, when fall hits in Nashville, it hits with a vengeance, doesn’t it?”
“When you get what?”
“Lonely,” Addie said, skirting around the sofa to show Chelsea something on the tablet she held. “This work for you, boss?”
After considering whatever was on the screen for a moment, Chelsea nodded. “Be sure and see if Brad is fine with that time too. Glad Marie is on board.”
“Already on it. Emailing him now.” Without a backward glance, Addie hurried out of the door, disappearing back into what looked like an office on the far side of the room while Chelsea dug around in the coat closet.
Hearing that Chelsea was lonely felt like a punch to the gut. Sure, Ethan had great friends like Brad and Russ. Plus there was always Joe han
ging around. Yet there were a lot of nights where the four walls seemed to close in around him and he wished he weren’t so alone…
Wishing didn’t get you anywhere. Men like him were fine all on their lonesome.
Bullshit.
Not surprisingly, the voice in his head sounded a hell of a lot like Joe. Come to think of it, Joe’s voice was often his conscience as well as his common sense. Which was logical. Joe had been more of a father to Ethan than Crawfish Walker could’ve ever claimed to be.
“Here it is.” Chelsea pulled a purple jacket off a hanger and closed the closet door.
Ethan helped her don the coat just as the doorbell chimed, which sent a sneezing Addie scurrying out of the office.
“Better fucking well be my Benadryl,” she said as she hurried past. “Sneezing my skinny ass off here.”
The woman made him smile.
On tiptoes, she peeked out the peephole. “What the ass?”
“Who is it?” Chelsea asked as she zipped her coat.
“Jason.” Addie opened the door to reveal one of the uniformed security guards, the one who appeared barely old enough to shave. “What’s up?”
Leaning to his left, he looked past Addie. “I wanted to bring you your medicine, Ms. Harris. The guy who brought it looked kinda…suspicious, and you already have a guest. So I sent him on his way.” He directed a rather hostile glare at Ethan. “Didn’t want anyone disturbing you. Anyone else.”
Addie snatched the sack. “Thank you. And goodbye.” She shut the door in his face.
Since the kid was clearly crushing on Chelsea, Ethan was glad to see him gone. “Best assistant in the world,” he said as Addie passed him, jerking a box of Benadryl from the gray sack.
“Fuckin’ A.” She turned left in the great room and disappeared, probably looking for something to drink so she could take the allergy meds.
“I should’ve given you a tour of the condo.” Chelsea checked her watch. “But I told Mom we’d be there by noon. How about I show you around when we get back?”