“Me, too.”
He kissed her again, then with determination he didn’t know he possessed, he climbed into his truck, shut the door and pulled out of his driveway, leaving her waving goodbye in his rearview mirror.
Epilogue
Music City Tattler
The first release on Michelle Waters’ new label, XXX Fearless Waters Records , dropped this week and hit the charts at number seven. Waters’ album has a harder edge than her previous body of work, signaling a change in her classic Nashville sound. The country music legend also has a new manager, a new producer and a new fiancée. Her former tour mate, Shay Rogan, popped the question a few weeks ago when he returned from a two-month long songwriting sabbatical, according to sources close to the star.
The couple has announced that Rogan’s new album, titled Better Sooner than Later , in tribute to his home state of Oklahoma on the same label , is scheduled for release later this year on the Fearless Waters lab el . Unlike his previous efforts, Rogan wrote or co-wrote all the tracks. The highlight of Rogan’s album will be a new duet featuring his fiancée called “ Nashville Bound ”.
, called TITLE .
XXX records Fearless Waters has already signed one other new artist. Rebecca Shaw, a former Music Row demo singer, will be releasing her first album and launching her solo tour this summer.
Keep reading for an exclusive excerpt from the newest Nashville series novel, NASHVILLE CRUSH, available March 2014.
NASHVILLE CRUSH
**EXCERPT**
He stopped when he heard the woman in the living room, talking on the phone. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Ok, he did, because the way she had run into the house made him wonder.
“I told you. I need time.” She spoke in a loud whisper, but Trent could tell she was annoyed and was that a note of panic in her voice, too?
Trent stood stock still.
“I haven’t made up my mind….yes. Of course I do.”
“Well, because…I just don’t know when I’ll be back. Or if.”
“No. No, don’t come out.” There was a note of desperation now. “I need space, Nick. Time to figure all this out—”
“There’s no one else….Him? He lives here.”
Trent stiffened. “Trent Ryder….yes, the singer…what do you mean do I think he’s hot? He’s like 50 years old.”
She abandoned the whisper now. “I am not sleeping with him.”
“I told you. Uncle Hank’s house has issues and I can’t stay there until the door is fixed. You want some psycho to break in and murder me in my sleep?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just. It’s been a long day….probably tomorrow. I’ll text you when I get the new one….alright. Bye.”
As soon as she hung up, Trent felt like he could move again. Like 50? Did he look or act 50? Probably. And why would it bother him what Hank’s niece thought of him, anyway? If he was an old man, she was a child. A child with boyfriend issues, apparently. One more reason to steer clear of her. As if he needed even one more. Starting something with her was not an option on the table. Or under it, or even in the same country as the option table.
Trent downed his water and tossed the empty bottle in the recycle bin just as his house guest entered the kitchen. She seemed startled to see him there.
“Oh. Sorry. Thought you were still outside.” She handed him the phone. “My, uh, friend was worried when he called my cell and it went to voice mail. Uncle Hank gave him your number and told him I was staying here.”
She was clearly upset and although the last thing Trent felt like doing was talking boys with her, he felt like he needed to throw her a bone. Women liked talking, especially about men. He searched for some general statement, like about how men sucked or some such, but came up blank. So he just blurted out what he had been thinking. “He’s the possessive type.”
She blinked. “No, not really. Well, he hadn’t been. That’s what I liked about him. But recently that changed.”
“When you left town?”
“No, when he proposed.”
Something big and heavy hit Trent square in the chest with a solid thump. She was engaged. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t. Just one more thing to make sure Trent didn’t cross the line and do something stupid like start thinking of her as anything but an annoying pest of a house guest and Hank’s niece.
“And you said…”
“I said I didn’t know. And then I flew to Nashville to think things over.”
Trent winced. “Ouch.”
“He totally sprung it on me,” she said testily. “There we were chugging along just fine, having fun, keeping it light and then boom! He pulls out a ring.” She seemed as angry as she would’ve been had the guy had pulled out a fake ID or a picture of himself with his other four wives and their 37 children instead of offering her an innocent piece of jewelry.
In his experience, women got mad when you didn’t produce a ring after a certain amount of time, not when you actually did. Suddenly images of Amy and how happy she’d been when Trent had proposed popped in to his mind. It had been on the beach in Malibu. She’s cried and said yes and they’d made love in the sand, the last rays of the pink sunset painting joy on her smooth skin. He’d felt like the weight of a hundred tons had been lifted off his shoulders. They were on tour but hadn’t wanted to wait to plan the wedding, so they’d hopped the red-eye to Vegas and been married that night. It was impulsive and wild and crazy. And perfect. And Trent knew he would have been crushed if she’d said “I don’t know” and flew halfway across the country to “think things over”. Crushed and mad as hell.
Trent’s jaw tightened. “You’re stringing him along.”
“No. I just haven’t decided.”
She was looking around to see if there was something better out there. He knew, he’d been that guy before he met Amy. It pissed him off a little. “Marriage isn’t like comparison shopping for a car. You know. If the answer that springs to mind isn’t ‘yes’, then the answer should be ‘no’. There is no ‘I don’t know’.” Trent grabbed another water out of the fridge. “Tell him ‘no’ and move on.”
She stared at him for a moment, her mouth hanging open.
“What?”
“That’s the most words in a row I’ve ever heard come out of you. I didn’t even know you could speak in full sentences.”
He shrugged. “I hate to see a guy getting walked all over by his girl.”
“I’m not his girl.”
“Does he know that?”
“Of course he knows that.” But she bit her lip and focused on the peeling pink polish on her fingernails.
Trent crossed his arms over his chest. “He doesn't seem to know that.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “You don't know everything about women. In fact I’d be willing to bet you don’t know much about women at all. Nick and I—we just needed a break. And then we’ll figure things out.”
Her skin was flushed and her breathing fast like she was about to have a panic attack.
He stepped forward, close enough to catch her if she tried to take a nosedive into the Spanish tile. “Are you OK?”
“I...just...get...freaked out sometimes thinking about all this. I mean marriage. It seems so serious. So….permanent.”
A female commitment-phobe? Interesting—or would be if he cared about her relationship MO. Her boyfriend-maybe-fiancé should have figured that out before he popped the question and sent her running, though.
“It is serious. And permanent, if you’re lucky.” He hoped the pain that suddenly speared through him wasn’t evident in his tone. He cleared his dry throat and turned away, taking a drink. “You gonna pass out or what?”
“I'm fine.” He recognized his words coming back to him and the corners of his mouth twitched. She was feisty, Hank's niece. Just like his friend.
But she was right about his lack of knowledge about women. His relationship with Amy had been easy and since her there hadn’t been anyone else. He didn’t have a
lot to offer in the way of relationship advice and the idea of getting sucked into some sort of girly hanky fest where they discussed relationships and feelings was right up there with contracting the plague or getting his balls stuck in a meat grinder . He couldn’t deal with a weepy female, either, and since she was staying in his house for the foreseeable future, he had to nip this in the bud. It was time to lay off the Oprah moment and find a distraction.
He grabbed another water and handed her one. “Wanna watch the game?”
She blinked, staring at him as if she’d suffered mental whiplash, but after a beat, she took the water and the bait. “What game?”
*****
Nashville Crush will be available in March 2014 at all of your favorite e-tailers and in print!
To be notified when the book releases, sign up for Bethany’s author newsletter at her Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/bethany.michaels or visit her website at www.bethanymichaels.com.
Also by Bethany Michaels:
Nashville Nights Series:
Nashville Heat
Nashville Naughty
Nashville Bound
*Nashville Crush (March 2014)
*Nashville Crazy (June 2014)
*Nashville Siren (September 2014)
*Nashville Lucky (November 2014)
My Favorite Fantasy Series:
Cuffed
Tripled
Enchanted Love Series:
Enchanted
Hart & Souls
Naughty
Erotic Anthologies:
Never Too Many Valentines
Mistletoe and Ménage
Entanglements
Fantastica
Secrets, Volume 23
Other Works:
The Secret Confessions of Lady H (serial)
Wicked Illusion
About the Author
Bethany Michaels is the author of over a dozen short stories, novellas and erotic novels that explore a woman's fantasies in the bedroom as well as her capacity for lasting love, all with a healthy dose of humor. She was nominated for a Romantic Times Reviewer's Choice award for her novel Nashville Heat and is currently at work on her next erotic adventure.
Bethany lives outside Nashville, Tennessee with her husband, four children and pile of dirty laundry that now has its own ZIP code.
For more information on upcoming books, please visit the author's website at http://www.bethanymichaels.com
You can also follow her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/bethany.michaels
and Twitter at https://twitter.com/BMichaelsAuthor
If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review on the vendor’s book page or at Goodreads.com.
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