by Sandy James
* * *
Brad felt as though he’d waited forever to kiss her sweet lips, but the time had finally come. He leaned in closer. Closer. And…
Someone loudly cleared his throat, the sound echoing through the silent restaurant. “Should I come back later?” Randy asked, following his question with a chuckle.
Savannah jerked away from Brad so quickly that it felt as though she’d taken a few hunks of his hair with her.
With an aggravated groan, Brad glanced out onto the dance floor to see Randy grinning like a dimwit.
Savannah’s face had flushed a deep red, but Brad had no idea if the change had been caused by their near kiss or the intrusion.
“Well, should I?” Randy asked again as Russ came marching toward the stage.
Russ’s boots pounded against the wooden floorboards, clearly showing his agitation, which meant he’d seen the kiss as well.
Combing her fingers through her hair with a trembling hand, Savannah said, “Good morning, guys.”
Russ only grunted in reply and headed backstage with Randy close behind.
Since she seemed to be too flustered to do anything except fuss with her hair, Brad tried to push aside the riot of feelings she’d inspired. He struggled for the right words to say when his train of thought was destroyed by notes of music—notes that were rapidly becoming another new song.
Savannah was truly his muse, his inspiration, and he wasn’t at all sure how he felt about her having that kind of hold over him.
She knit her brows. “What’s wrong?”
The music was coming too quickly for him to form a tactful response. “Nothing,” he said before he hurried back to the piano. Snatching up the sheet music, he flipped it over and started scribbling out the tune that now drowned out all his other thoughts. He needed his keyboard or he’d never capture the melody. “Sorry, Savannah. Music’s calling. Gotta run,” he called over his shoulder as he hurried off the stage. He all but plowed over Russ in his hurry to get to his office.
He had another new song to write.
* * *
Savannah wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging herself. “Sounds like something’s wrong to me,” she muttered to no one after Brad had fled.
How could she even form a coherent thought? Her mind had been thrown into chaos, and all she wanted to do was run back into his arms and demand that he kiss her and be damned quick about it.
Perhaps his mind was a little chaotic as well. Didn’t he say that music was calling to him?
Sweet Lord. Had she inspired another song?
She stood there dumbfounded as she watched him jog away. Suddenly he stopped, whirled back around, and shouted from across the big room, “Draw up a set list and we’ll talk later.”
Then he was gone.
She had no idea what to say or do.
Russ, who’d passed Brad on his way out, came to stand at her side. “He can be a piece of work.”
Savannah shrugged.
“Want me to tell him to back off?”
“Back off?” she asked.
“Yeah…back off. I saw you two. Has he kissed you yet?”
Embarrassed to the roots of her hair, she shook her head.
“He’s my friend, but so are you. I just want you to be careful.”
“What are you telling me?”
“Brad can be kind of a…jerk. With women, I mean.”
Great. The rumors she’d heard were true. Brad was the only man she’d been drawn to in years, and even his friend thought he was on the prowl. Just another reason to keep their dealings entirely professional.
“Look,” she said, “can’t we just forget about what you think you saw?”
Russ let out a snort.
“I doubt it’ll happen again.” Trying to put all that had happened this morning behind her, she picked up her purse from where it rested next to the piano. She slid the strap over her shoulder. “You’re my friend, Russ, and I appreciate you looking out for me. But I’ve got to figure this stuff with Brad out for myself.”
He thought it over long enough to make her worry she’d endanger their friendship if she didn’t take his advice. “Have it your way,” he finally replied with a shrug.
With great relief, she went to him. She had to grip his muscular forearm so she could rise on her tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Thank you for worrying about me.”
“Welcome,” he mumbled as a blush colored his beard-stubbled face.
Chapter Seven
Savannah smiled at Caroline, giving her daughter a small wave before her girl directed her attention back to the other kids on the park playground. As she watched Caroline take her turn on the slide, Savannah let her smile fade.
Brad had almost kissed her. Again.
What was wrong with her? This was her second chance at finding a place in country music, and she was going to blow it because of a guy? Especially a guy who’d probably slept with most of the woman in Nashville?
She’d been down that road before and knew it ended in a fiery crash that had all but destroyed her life. Caroline had been the only bright spot. While she wouldn’t wish that beautiful little girl away, she could have done without the harsh life lessons that came with her creation.
At least she’d heard from Brad by afternoon. He’d called to tell her he would have another new song for her to learn, and she didn’t ask if he’d written this one for her, too. Had she done so, he’d probably think she was a diva with nothing but vanity driving her. She was already embarrassed enough for practically throwing herself at the man. She wasn’t about to assume something stupid like she was the reason he’d begun writing music again.
“Hey.”
Shielding her eyes against the bright sun, Savannah looked up to find her best friend. “Hey, Jos. What are you doing here?”
Joslynn Wright took a seat next to Savannah on the metal bench. “I was going to go for a run. Saw your car when I parked and figured you’d brought the munchkin to the playground.”
Giving Joslynn a quick appraisal, Savannah grinned. Her svelte friend was covered in Lycra—a tight shirt and leggings, both a pleasant shade of lilac. Her long black hair was pulled into a messy bun. “I wish I had your dedication, Jos. Although I wondered if you ran in scrubs.”
Joslynn arched a dark eyebrow.
“You’re always in scrubs,” Savannah teased.
“I guess you’re right. Such is the life of an ER nurse. I work, I jog, and I try to sleep.”
Savannah let out a soft chuckle. “At least scrubs are comfortable. My ‘work clothes’ are all scratchy or full of sequins and glitter.” When Joslynn didn’t laugh in response, Savannah turned to see a frown budding on her friend’s face.
“Speaking of work…You didn’t text me to let me know how things went this morning.”
While this morning was the last thing she wanted to talk about, Savannah needed to share what had happened. Perhaps Joslynn could talk some sense into her and convince her that kissing the new boss would be about as stupid a move as a woman could make. “About that…”
Joslynn folded her arms under her breasts. “Uh-oh. What happened?”
“You know that song I told you about?”
“The one you’d never heard?”
Savannah nodded.
“What about it?”
“Brad Maxwell wrote it for me.”
Joslynn’s eyes widened as her mouth dropped open.
“I know, right? I told you about his songs, about how he used to write music for every big name in Nashville.”
“And he wrote a song for you?”
Savannah nodded.
“Interesting…” Joslynn drawled the word out before she pursed her lips as though lost in thought.
Time for the second dose of crazy. “He almost kissed me.” That didn’t sound quite right, so Savannah tried again. “I almost kissed him.” Since that sounded every bit as wrong, she finally shook her head. “We came close to kissing. Each other.”
; With a roll of her eyes, Joslynn said, “I think I understand.”
“Do you?” Savannah asked. “Because for the life of me, I don’t.”
Joslynn lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “What’s to understand?”
Savannah gripped her hands together and glanced at her daughter as guilt filled her. What price had she paid for her impulsivity? “What’s to understand? How about how ridiculous I am for blowing this gig?”
“He fired you?”
“No…but…”
“Stop,” Joslynn said, her voice hard. “You two almost kissed. No biggie. It sure doesn’t mean you’re going to lose this job.”
“No?” Taking a deep breath, Savannah tried to tamp down her rising panic. “He’s my boss, Jos!”
“And you’re attracted to him.”
“Yeah,” Savannah admitted. “I am.”
“Then kiss the man, Savannah.”
Such a matter-of-fact statement, but not surprising from Joslynn. If she wanted a man, she was straightforward in telling him.
That wasn’t Savannah’s style. Not only did she lack that kind of courage, but she wasn’t sure she was up to another heartache. “I can’t. I’d be making the same stupid mistakes I made with Michael.”
“I sincerely doubt that, unless one kiss can get you pregnant and make the man suddenly decide to rip off your hard-earned money. It would be a helluva kiss if it could accomplish all that.”
How like Joslynn to try to defuse Savannah’s worries with a dose of wry humor. And it worked. At least a little. “Okay, okay. I’m overreacting. I know I am. I just…” She kept her gaze on her daughter. “This time, there’s a lot more at stake.” She let out a sigh. “He’s got a reputation.”
“Pardon?”
“Never met a woman he didn’t screw.”
“Oh…that’s not good.”
“An understatement if I ever heard one. At least I know about his true nature before I get involved with him.”
Joslynn laid a calm hand on Savannah’s arm. “Look, hon…you’re a different woman now. You’re not the same person you were when you let Michael take advantage of you.”
Savannah almost blurted out that Michael hadn’t really done that, but she’d be wrong. He had taken advantage of her. Not only of her body, but of her trust and her naïveté. He’d used her love for profit.
“I strongly doubt that this Brad is anything like Shithead.”
Since Joslynn rarely cursed, Savannah had to smile at the nickname they both used whenever they discussed Michael. “Not from what I’ve seen.” Holding up a hand up to stop whatever Joslynn was going to say, Savannah reminded her, “But Shithead didn’t show his true colors until those last few weeks, remember?”
Joslynn let out an inelegant snort that was in direct contrast to her sweet smile. “You mean when he emptied your bank account and left town without so much as a note?”
“I should’ve listened to you when you said there was something…weird about him. For all I know, Brad could be the same kind of guy.”
“Then try to find out,” Joslynn suggested.
“Pardon?”
“Put your ear to the ground and start listening. Get on Google. Talk to people in the business. Talk to him. Before you get in too deep, see what you can figure out about this guy. Maybe the talk about his women is nothing more than rumors. So find out the truth. If he turns out to be a good guy, then kiss his lips off.”
Savannah couldn’t help but laugh. “And if he’s bad news?”
“Then fulfill your contract and keep your hands to yourself.”
Savannah’s cheeks heated as her thoughts strayed back to that connection, to the incredible chemistry that had taken her eyes off the prize and made her body so filled with need, she couldn’t stop thinking about Brad.
“Ah…so that’s how it is…” Joslynn grinned. “He got to you, didn’t he?”
Savannah’s face was hot enough that she might as well spontaneously combust. “I’m an idiot.”
“Okay,” Joslynn said. “Let’s look at this thing from both sides.”
“Both sides? I fail to see sides in this.”
“Look closer. There are two ways this could go.” She held up her index finger. “One, you kiss him.” She added her middle finger. “Two, you don’t kiss him.”
“Either way, I’m screwed.”
“Pun intended?” Joslynn asked as she let her slender hand drop.
God bless the woman’s sense of humor. She always knew how to make Savannah smile. “No, but I’ll still take credit for it.”
Leaning back against the bench, Joslynn stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankle as she let her gaze go to the playground, probably looking for her godchild. “Have you told him about Caroline?”
“No. Not yet. No one at the restaurant knows about her—except Ethan, the guy who hired me. I told him I was a single mom.”
“You tell anyone else?”
Savannah shook her head. “I wanted to keep my life with her separate from my life at Words and Music—even more so now that I’m gonna be singing there. You know how I feel about keeping her privacy.”
Joslynn nodded. “Can’t blame you there. I know you don’t want Michael anywhere near her. You know, if your career takes off…Might be even more difficult.”
“If my career takes off, it’ll be even more important to keep her life normal. Besides…you know I hate the idea of being famous,” Savannah said. “All I want is to make a decent living.”
“And if Michael wants to see her?” Joslynn asked.
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I need to have a career to worry about first.”
“Which brings us back to the original problem—your boss.”
“My boss.” A weary sigh slipped out. “I just don’t know what to do about him, Jos.”
“What’s to know? Even if you kiss him, I think things would stay pretty much status quo. I can’t imagine this Brad would hire you as a singer only to dump you over something like a kiss. After all, what does one little kiss matter anyway?” Her gaze came back to Savannah.
Joslynn’s penetrating brown eyes wouldn’t let Savannah brush aside the truth. “It think it would be more than ‘just a kiss,’” Savannah admitted.
Joslynn gave her a quick nod. “Then I suppose the option to not kiss him is out.”
“Probably.” Admitting it was difficult enough. If she had to try to keep Brad at arm’s length, she’d be fighting a challenging battle, even knowing what Russ said about him.
“Ask yourself,” Joslynn advised, “what’s the worst thing that could happen? You’ve got a contract, right?”
Not sure she wanted to admit how stupid she’d been, Savannah said, “Not yet. He’s drawing it up now. I was going to sign it at the next rehearsal.”
“You don’t think you should have someone look it over before you sign?”
“Who, Jos? Who could I have look at the stupid thing? I can’t afford a lawyer, and I sure as hell don’t want to talk to another manager.”
“Not all of them are crooks,” Joslynn reasoned.
“Well, then I guess I’ve got crappy luck. I found the needle in the haystack of managers. I found Shithead.”
* * *
Another one bites the dust… Or at least another song was done.
By the time Brad got Savannah into a studio, he’d probably have a whole damn album for her.
No. No, this was only a one-shot—two-shot—deal. She was going to have to take things on her own from here if she wanted original music. He had a restaurant to run. Being back in the music business meant he’d have to constantly be on his guard. He’d learned his lesson well about the fakes who just wanted a taste of fame.
Like Katie. After the way she’d used him, he wasn’t going to put himself on the line again. Not for anything or anyone.
If only Savannah hadn’t waltzed into his life.
He hadn’t even kissed her, yet she haunted him, which pissed him o
ff. He was Brad Maxwell—the man who could have any woman he wanted. He was the one who was always in control, always setting the pace. And he was the one who could and would walk away whenever he was ready.
So why couldn’t he simply leave Savannah Wolf alone? What about her had captivated him so damned quickly that his head was still spinning?
“You’re writing another one?”
Brad glanced up to see Ethan with a shit-eating grin that was sorely begging for a punch in his crooked nose. “No, I’m not.”
Ethan’s dark brows gathered. “Then what’s with all this?” He flipped at the corner of a stack of newly written sheet music.
“I’m not writing another one. I already wrote it.”
“Smart-ass.” Ethan flopped on the couch.
“Why are you here? Not enough to do on the ranch?”
“Hardly. I’ve got two mares ready to foal.”
“So why are you here? Afraid I’m not doing my job?”
“Again…hardly. I’m here because Russ said you were holed up in the office again and thought you might need a hand with next week’s schedule.”
“Next week’s…Damn. I thought I’d already…” Brad shuffled around the papers littering the desk. “It isn’t posted yet?”
“Nope.”
“I coulda sworn I’d…” The schedule was on the bottom of the second pile Brad searched. “Shit. I’m sorry. I’ll get it up right away.”
Ethan held out his hand. “Need me to take a look?”
“No,” Brad snapped. Although his anger was self-directed, he couldn’t keep it from being shown.
“Alrighty then…” Ethan drawled.
Brad got to his feet and headed to the door. “Sorry.”
“You do realize you have two partners in this place, right?” Ethan asked. “That you don’t have to do every single thing yourself?”
Instead of replying, Brad stomped to the hallway, pinned the schedule on the bulletin board, and then marched back to the office. “Sorry,” he muttered again.