by LuAnn McLane
“Yeah, I can get there in a little while. I just have to brush the leaves and twigs out of my hair.”
Mia laughed. “Should I ask?”
“No, just use your imagination.”
“I’ll drag it out of you over onion rings.”
“Onion rings always make me spill my guts.”
Mia laughed. “Gosh, I’ve missed you, girl.”
“Oh, me too! But, Mia, do you think I can go out without causing … you know, kind of a stir?” Cat hated asking because she thought it made her sound full of herself, but she wanted to be prepared.
“You don’t have to be concerned with too much of that. With the recent influx of celebrities moving here, the locals actually try hard to let you maintain your privacy. You might get asked for an autograph or photo or two, but that should be about it. And other than the local paper, there aren’t paparazzi like you might find in Nashville.”
“That’s so good to know.”
“People tend to protect their own here in Cricket Creek. You’re part of the family now.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet. This was such a big decision for me to move here, but I immediately felt it was the right choice. It might sound silly, but it was like the wildflowers were waving a welcome.”
“You’re a songwriter. That’s how your brain works.”
“I didn’t think anyone knew how my brain works.”
“Well, I’ll tell you this much. I’m sure glad that my car decided to conk out in Cricket Creek, Kentucky. My life changed for the better that day.” Mia chucked. “Well, maybe not that very day. It took a little living and learning little things like, um, what was important in life.”
Cat laughed. “Well, and not to mention you met the love of your life here.”
“Yeah, after I caused him to be tossed in jail and almost get kicked off the baseball team.”
“This might be a small town, but big things seem to happen here.”
“Well, yeah, you’re here. That’s big too. Oh, don’t get me wrong. Gossip spreads like wildfire, like in any small town. But … for the most part it’s just being nosy in a fun and caring kind of way, not to exploit or take advantage of you being a celebrity. You won’t find anyone selling pictures of you to the tabloids here, Cat.”
“That’s sweet music to my ears.” Cat sighed with relief. “I’m so over that whole being exploited thing.”
“It’s a polite, small-town thing to be respectful. Oh, but we are also oh so fiercely proud of who lives here. Like I said, you are kind of a big deal, you know.”
“My parents started it all when they bought me that microphone for Christmas when I was five. But fame wasn’t part of my goal growing up. Just the love of music, you know?”
“I do know that about you, Cat. You’re one of the most giving people around and you do your charity work without anyone knowing. Those designer shoes you sent for Heels for Meals were just amazing. What’s left of the shoes you donated are on display at Violet’s Vintage Clothing on Main Street. They went pretty fast!”
“Speaking of—when you have time, I need to go shopping. Purging my closets felt so good but now I’m in dire need of some clothes. Vintage sounds fun. I want to develop my own sense of style and not just dress the way I was told to.”
“You of all people know you won’t have to twist my arm to go shopping,” Mia said. “I just do it a bit differently these days. I love a good bargain.”
Cat had to smile. “Oh, Mia, I would have given anything to have seen you waiting tables at Wine and Diner when you moved here and pretending to be Mia Money. I mean, I know you were trying to prove yourself without using the Monroe name, but seriously, how did you even call yourself that with a straight face?”
“I have no idea. But you sure saved the day for me when you agreed to sing the national anthem at the Cougars opening-day game. If I had gotten Cam kicked off the team for getting into that darned fight, he might not have married me.”
“Oh, the moment I met him when you came to pick me up in Nashville, I knew you were in love. I’m glad I played a part in bringing you and Cameron Patrick together, but I think you two would have made it against all odds.”
“Still, I was so glad you answered the phone that day when I was in Noah Falcon’s office pretending to know what I was doing.”
Cat laughed at the memory. “That’s what friends are for. And I can’t wait to hang out with Cam when he’s back in town.”
“I still can’t wrap my brain around the fact that you’re actually living in Cricket Creek. Wait—”
Cat heard her friend squeal. “Mia, what on earth are you doing?”
“The Snoopy happy dance. Sorry—I had to get that out of my system. Okay, enough—get your tushy over to Sully’s. There should be a slew of cute country boys and baseball players since there’s no night game. You might get asked to dance if any of them has the nerve to ask Cat Carson.”
“Unfortunately, that can be a bit of a problem. Guys tend to forget that I’m just a person like everyone else. I like to hold hands and be kissed as much as anybody.” A vision of Jeff slid into her brain.
“Well, you just let your wingman do the job.”
“I pretty much suck at flirting. I think I might actually need a wingman.”
“Yes! Oh, I forgot to tell you that matchmaking is the favorite pastime in Cricket Creek right after baseball.”
Cat rolled her eyes. “Wait. Okay, then I have to ask you this. Did you pick the cabin I’m living in because it’s close to Jeff Greenfield?”
“Of course not!” Mia answered so incredulously that Cat didn’t believe her even one little bit.
“Well, it’s not going to work.”
“He’s single, super hot, and can sing. You two are made for each other. And seriously, what’s not to like?”
“Nothing. I just don’t think I’m his type.”
“Wait. Did you just say you liked him, though?”
“No!” If she kept telling people, soon the entire town would know she had a crush on Jeff Greenfield. Of course, there was likely a long list of girls gaga over the hometown country crooner. “You heard me incorrectly.”
“Oh, I heard you loud and clear. You’ve got a thing for Jeff Greenfield. You might as well admit it.”
“Well, okay, maybe I have a tiny little thing for him. It’s those stupid dimples. They should be outlawed. I’m going to fill them in with Silly Putty when he’s not looking.”
“I knew it!”
“Mia, I will never speak to you ever again if you let him know it.”
“I can keep a secret,” Mia promised so seriously that Cat had to grin.
“And no meddling. There will be no mixing business with … you know.”
“Pleasure?”
Cat felt a blush warm her cheeks at the thought of pleasure and Jeff Greenfield in the same sentence. “Yeah, it would lead to an epic disaster.”
“Really? What about Faith Hill and Tim McGraw? Miranda Lambert and Blake Shelton? Trisha Yearwood and Garth Brooks? Sonny and Cher.”
“Sonny and Cher?”
“I was running out of examples.”
“Mia, I think I kind of … annoy him.”
“I seriously doubt that. Cat, you’re a bit quirky, but that’s part of your charm.”
“In other words, embrace my weirdness?”
“I prefer to call it uniqueness, but yes. Can I still be your wingman, though?”
“Absolutely. As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I need. And maybe a tutor.”
“A tutor at what?”
“Guy 101. Can you help?”
Mia laughed. “You’re so silly. I’ll see you soon.”
After ending the call Cat stood there grinning. It would be so nice to go out and not get hounded for autographs or pictures. Cat always tried to be accommodating and adored her fans, but it would be so relaxing not to have to deal with that now that she lived in Cricket Creek.
Suddenly super excited, Cat hurrie
d into her bedroom in search of something to wear. Jeans, boots, and a fitted floral blouse seemed like a good choice for a honky-tonk bar. In Nashville Cat loved Lower Broadway, where all the legendary bars were located, but she didn’t get to go out all that much since she couldn’t go to a bar without causing a stir and usually getting a request to sing. Here in Cricket Creek she hoped that Mia was right and the locals would give her privacy.
Cat inhaled a breath. And when was the last time she’d danced with a guy? Did she even remember how to flirt? Cat thought about the banter back and forth with Jeff. That wasn’t flirting. That was …
What was it exactly?
Cat was still thinking about that question when she entered the bathroom to freshen up and change, but then sucked in a breath when she saw her reflection. With her hair mussed and wearing Jeff’s shirt, she looked like she’d just rolled out of bed. His bed. She looked down at the bandage and remembered the gentleness in his touch and the concern in his eyes.
And then she remembered the kiss.
Had she really kissed him first? God, she hoped not. Cat grabbed the edge of the sink. “No!” she whispered. No matter what Mia said, Cat knew all too well that mixing business and romance would more than likely end in heartbreak. She’d tried that several times when she let Matt Stanford set her up on several dates thinking he was actually trying to find a boyfriend for her when all he wanted was the publicity of hooking her up with another country star or sports hero. It took Cat a while to realize that paparazzi didn’t always show up by accident. No, getting involved with someone in the business was just asking for trouble. And she didn’t need to even ask for trouble … it just seemed to find her.
Cat tugged the T-shirt over her head, telling herself to give it back to Jeff as soon as she could. But when she caught a whiff of his aftershave, Cat put the shirt to her nose and inhaled. “What are you doing?” she sputtered and threw the shirt down. “So he smells good … so what?” She glared at the shirt thinking she should take it over to his cabin and toss it in his face. It occurred to Cat that Jeff hadn’t done anything to deserve her wrath, but staying pissed at him—even if for no good reason—was going to be her best defense.
Cat decided that she would let Mia be her wingman. Tonight, for the first time in such a long while, she was going to let her hair down and have a rocking good time. She was going to dance and flirt and get all thoughts of Jeff Greenfield right out of her system.
With that thought, Cat paid special attention to her makeup. Then she added soft curls to her hair, letting it fall in beachy waves over her shoulders. After giving herself a critical once-over she sprayed on a bit of her favorite perfume and then added a bit more for good measure. With her hands fisted on her hips she stood back and surveyed her reflection in the mirror. “Look out, boys of Cricket Creek. Here I come.”
Of course, in typical Cat Carson style, when she walked up the sidewalk to Sully’s front door thirty minutes later, her resolve started to falter. After her childhood years of feeling gangly and clumsy, she still found it difficult to believe that she’d ended up on magazine covers. When her manager had called to inform her she’d been selected as one of People magazine’s sexiest women, Cat had thought it was a huge joke being played on her and she still didn’t quite get it.
When she tugged open the heavy door to Sully’s and stepped inside, the rest of her confidence dissolved like a spoonful of sugar in hot tea. The place was packed and everybody was talking to someone, making Cat feel as if she were crashing a party. Inhaling a deep breath, she fought back the urge to turn on her heel and scurry out the door.
You can do this, her inner voice demanded. You’ve played onstage before thousands. This is nothing. But up onstage she let the music take over and she tried to tune the crowd out. She couldn’t very well start singing in the middle of a local bar, now could she? Cat eyed the small stage in the far corner and sighed. Well, maybe she could—not that she wanted to. But bringing attention to her celebrity status would undermine her desire to fit in and just simply be one of the crowd. All Cat had ever really wanted to do was to fit in, and all of her life she had stood out. She knew she was an odd combination of self-confidence and insecurity. She could make people laugh, sing at the top of her lungs, and entertain a crowd, but when she was stripped down and just trying to be herself Cat still felt uneasy. Sometimes she felt as if she were always on, and it was sometimes tiring.
Cat felt eyes upon her and instantly knew that she was recognized. She saw a few people trying to discreetly take pictures with their smartphones, but no one approached, so that was something positive, she supposed. But in reality it also felt odd and sometimes lonely when people were afraid to just sit and have a friendly conversation with her. As she’d explained to Mia, just because she was a celebrity didn’t mean that she didn’t want to kick back and have fun like everybody else. It was so weird that people either paid too much attention to her or none at all. Cat was totally grateful for her success, but, boy, it would be so nice for once just to be … normal.
Well, she would never be normal, exactly, she thought with a small grin.
A moment later Cat heard a little squeal and spotted Mia hurrying her way. “Oh my gosh, it is so good to see you!” Mia gushed. “Wait—did you get taller?” Mia asked and then rose up on tiptoe to give Cat a hug. She pulled back and tilted her head to the side. “And prettier? Seriously, do those legs ever end?”
“These legs trip over everything.” Cat laughed and started to feel more at ease.
“Ha. Well, you’re gonna stir these boys ’round here into a frenzy.”
“Are you getting a Southern accent, Mia?”
“Maybe. You will too after a while.”
“I lived in South Carolina as a child and then in Nashville for three years. If it hasn’t happened yet I don’t think it will. I still sound mostly Midwestern.”
“Southern is a state of mind, Cat. It will happen.” Then in true form Mia bounced up and down. “I really am so glad to see you! I have a high-topped table over by the bar. Let’s get you a girlie drink and put some of our favorites on the jukebox.”
Cat laughed. “Backstreet Boys? Ninety-eight Degrees?”
“Yeah!”
Cat looked around at cowboy hats and baseball caps. “Um, I don’t think that would be a popular choice. I think we need to get something in a longneck bottle and play some George Strait.”
Mia shook her head. “You’re no fun.”
“I am very fun! Ask … anybody.”
“How about I ask that sexy cowboy leaning against the wall?”
“I think I need to get my drink on first.”
“Now you’re talkin’.”
Cat was pretty much a lightweight, so that meant maybe two or three beers at the most. She knew from experience that little bitty Mia could drink her under the table. A moment later a good-looking guy came over.
“Clint, what are you doing here?” Mia asked.
“Filling in for Dad. He needs to hire a few bartenders, if you know anybody interested.”
“I’ll ask around,” Mia said.
“Ava is taking him shopping for a much needed new wardrobe.”
“And why are you grinning?” Mia wanted to know.
Clint’s grin widened. “Apparently he’s taking my mother to dinner Saturday night.”
“A date?” Mia bounced in her chair.
“Mom says it’s business but I really think Dad has other ideas in mind.”
“It’s obvious how you feel about it,” Mia said.
“All I can say is, it’s about time. They are both too stubborn for their own good.”
“Wait. So you must be Pete’s son,” Cat said, extending her hand. “Cat Carson. I’m so honored to be working with your mother. She’s an amazing songwriter. She may not know what she’s getting herself into, but your mother has taken me under her wing.”
“Oh my gosh.” Mia shook her head. “I’m so sorry. In my excitement about the date I for
got to introduce you two.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Cat. I’m a fan, and so is Ava.”
“Thanks so much.”
“You seem surprised.” Clint chuckled. “I lived in California for a long time. Your songs always make me think of the beach and never fail to put me in a good mood.”
“You’re welcome. I love the beach too, but your mom and I are going to expand my horizons. Dig a little deeper creatively.”
“I’m sure I’ll enjoy whatever direction you go. You have a great voice.” He grinned. “Oh, and whatever you do, don’t call the thing with my dad a date to my mom’s face. She will set you straight.”
“Your mother is a straight shooter, for sure,” Cat said. “I love that about her. But don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”
“Thanks. So what will it be, ladies?”
“A bucket of Kentucky Ale,” Mia answered and then looked at Cat. “What do you want to eat?”
“Do you have an appetizer sampler of bad-for-us stuff?”
Clint laughed. “Well, at my insistence we do actually have some healthy choices on the menu, but yeah, I can get a platter of bad-for-you stuff.”
“Load us up and make sure there’s onion rings.”
“We hand batter our own,” Clint informed her. “A bucket and a platter of bad-for-you stuff coming right up. And welcome to Cricket Creek, Cat.”
“Thanks!” Cat said and then smiled across the table at Mia. “Ordering that felt so rebellious. But I guess I’ll be jogging tomorrow morning. Note to self: stay on the path and keep the creek by the cabin in sight.” She rolled up her sleeve to reveal her bandaged arm.
“What? Stitches again? Did you really take a tumble?”
“Are you surprised?” Cat relayed the hiking incident, but left out the kiss. “Apparently staying on the path is important.”
Mia narrowed her eyes. “Why do I think there’s more to the story? You’re leaving something out.”
Cat paused when Clint delivered the bucket of beer. Trying to look innocent, she pulled a longneck from the ice. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”