Feels Like Home

by Kelly Elliott

  I frowned and looked at Nick, who simply shrugged.

  “Yeah, sure,” I replied as I stood.

  Bristol looked between her brother and me and asked, “Is everything okay?”

  Drake softened his face. “It’s fine. I just need to ask Anson something.” He looked down at Mindy. “Are you okay? You look flushed.”

  Bristol shot Mindy a little smile.

  “I’m a little tired,” Mindy said.

  Concern immediately appeared on Drake’s face. “Give me five minutes, then I’ll get you home, okay?”

  She nodded. “Of course, no rush!”

  Drake gave her a grin that screamed the guy was falling head over heels. Bristol and I exchanged a quick, knowing look, and then I followed Drake out of the dance hall. We walked over toward his truck, and he stopped and blew out a breath.

  “There was a photographer here tonight. I noticed him when we first got here. He was taking pictures of the dance hall and around it, so I figured they had maybe brought someone in to take promotional photos. Then I noticed he took a few pictures of you and Bristol. I kept my eye on him, and I’m almost positive he was taking pictures of you, Anson. I followed him out here when he left, and he told me he had no idea what I was talking about. I came back in and tracked down the manager of the band. They hired the guy to take pictures of the event. And he did—I saw him taking pictures of the band. But also of you.”

  I rubbed my day-old beard and sighed. “Could just be a coincidence he snapped a picture of me.”

  “And Bristol. Y’all were dancing, but yeah, could totally just be a coincidence. I wanted to let you know.”

  Smiling, I hit him on the side of the arm. “Aw, see you really do like me, Bro.”

  He rolled his eyes and tried to hide his smile. “I will say this—I haven’t seen my sister looking this happy in a very long time.”

  It was my turn to grin now. “I haven’t been this happy in a long time either.”

  “I’m happy you two worked things out, you know that, right?”

  “Drake, I don’t want to hurt your sister ever again. I need you to know that. I love her, and I’m going to figure this all out.”

  He nodded. “Good, because the two of you belong together.”

  “What about you and Mindy?”

  A sudden look of surprise washed over his face, and he let out a laugh. “What about me and Mindy?”

  “Dude, I see it all over your face. Do you still have feelings for her?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes. I’m trying to figure out what’s appropriate here.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Is it wrong that I want to kiss her and tell her I have feelings for her?”

  I frowned. “Why would it be wrong?”

  “She’s pregnant. With another man’s child.”

  “So? If she feels the same way, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. I can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now, knowing she’s going to be a single mom and that the father wants nothing to do with this baby. Having you interested in her right now is not a bad thing. It’s the opposite. Be honest with your feelings.”

  I could see the conflict in his eyes.

  “It’ll all work out, Drake. Take it one day at a time.”

  “When did you become so damn wise?” he asked with a slight laugh.

  “Ha. You do realize that I write and sing sad country songs, right? Besides, I’m hardly wise, but I have learned my lesson the hard way. Never let go of someone you love.”

  Bristol

  THE CHATTER GOING on in the tea room wasn’t anything new, but something seemed off. I walked up to a table of ladies who were in town visiting.

  “How is everything, ladies?” I asked.

  They all looked up at me and smiled. “Amazing,” one said. “This lavender tea of yours is to die for! And the apple tart, please tell me you give your recipes out.”

  I laughed. “I’m so glad you like the tea…and the tart. I don’t hand them out, but I will let you in on a little secret. I usually share the recipes on my Instagram page.”

  They all leaned in with anticipation. I pulled out my business cards and handed one to each of them. “My social media isn’t all about tea. I try to change it up some—I’d love for you to follow me. And the tart is under the recipe section!”

  “Thank you so much! We live in San Antonio, and this is our first time in Comfort!”

  “How wonderful! What brought y’all here?”

  One blushed as the others all giggled. “Rumor has it, Anson Meyer is back in his hometown.”

  My stomach dropped, and I had to force myself not to show any reaction.

  “We tried telling her he was on some tropical island,” one of the girls stated as she shot her friend a look.

  They all laughed as the one who had been talking to me nodded and waved them off. “I know he is, but I just had to come and see where he grew up. We’ve asked a few people in some of the stores about him. Some gave us a cold response, and some were polite but didn’t offer up much information.”

  Another woman chimed in. “It’s like some people love him here, and some not so much.”

  I shrugged. “Small town.”

  They all looked at me like that wasn’t a good enough response.

  “Did you know him?” the woman who spoke first asked.

  I smiled. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “Is he just as handsome in real life as he looks on TV?” one of them asked with a dreamy look in her eyes.

  “He is, very much so.”

  They all sighed, and I had to force myself not to laugh.

  “If you ladies need anything else, be sure to let me or Mindy know,” I said. I turned and quickly walked back to my office, where I pulled out my phone and called Anson.

  “Do you miss me already?” he purred into the phone.

  With a chuckle, I replied, “Considering you woke me up at five in the morning to ravage my body, I should be angry with you. I’m exhausted!”

  His deep laugh came across the phone and made my entire body heat up. “But you aren’t angry because you know that those two orgasms I gave you made it worth watching the sunrise, Darlin’.”

  He had a point there. I smiled to myself.

  “Glad you called,” he said. “Wanted to let you know that I’m about to head out with Dad for a ride to hopefully talk some more.”

  “Oh, good. I’m glad he’s feeling better and that he agreed to go.”

  Carl had been hell-bent on making Anson suffer by hardly speaking to him at all. Even after the scare with the anxiety attack, he was still being a stubborn mule.

  “Yeah, me too. I really want to patch things up with him.”

  “I know you do. Well, at least I don’t have to worry about you coming into the tea room today.”

  “Why? Afraid I’ll want to take you on your desk?”

  A rush of wetness hit my panties as I looked at my desk and let that image play across my mind.

  “Um, as turned on as I am by that mental image, that’s not the reason. There’s a group of women here from San Antonio. They all seem to believe you’re not here, but they wanted to come and see where Anson Meyer grew up. They asked me about you and are obviously very infatuated with you.”

  “Well, I figured some folks might come snooping around, but most wouldn’t put it together that I’d come home. What did they ask you?”

  I smiled. “They wanted to know if I knew you and if you really were as handsome as you look on TV.”

  He laughed once more. “And what did you say?”

  “The truth. That I did know you, and that yes, you are indeed just as handsome.”

  “I wonder if Dad wouldn’t mind pushin’ off our ride? I have the sudden urge to sneak into your office and have my way with you.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “I’ll make you a deal. I have some accounting stuff to go over later. How about you meet me here later, and w
e can talk more about sex on the desk?”

  He moaned. “God, you really are the woman of my dreams.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve got to run. Be careful, and I hope the ride is a good one.”

  “Thanks, me too.”

  His voice no longer had any trace of humor in it.

  “Anson, it’s all going to work out.”

  With a sigh, he replied, “I feel like things are going so well, ya know? With you and me working things out, and the fact that I’m slowly starting to win over some folks in town. I really want to work it out with my dad.”

  I smiled. “I’m not so sure Mrs. Kott is ready to forgive you.”

  Our fifth-grade teacher—and a friend of Ida’s—was not so easily swayed by Anson’s charm. When he saw her in High’s Café the other day, she told him he needed someone to put him over their knee and spank him. Anson always did say I was Mrs. Kott’s favorite student.

  “Lord, that woman. She’s still pissed because I lost the class pet.”

  “Don’t you mean…stole the class pet?”

  “I really wanted a hamster!”

  With a roll of my eyes, I chuckled. “Call me after your ride with Carl.”

  “Will do. Love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  My goodness, it felt so good to utter those words again.

  After hanging up, I made my way to the kitchen to check on things, before heading back out into the tea room. The group of women from San Antonio had just left, and Mindy was clearing the table.

  “Boy howdy, if I had an ounce of the energy that those girls had, I’d be flying high.”

  I chuckled. “They were fans of Anson’s, just here checking out the town.”

  “Oh, believe me, I heard.”

  There was only one table with two people sitting at it. They weren’t locals, which wasn’t unusual. Folks who were visiting Comfort often stopped by for tea and treats. Tuesdays were typically a slow day for us, and we didn’t have any afternoon teas scheduled at all. It was the perfect time to try a new recipe.

  “I think I’m going to try and make…”

  Mindy looked at me, a hopeful look on her face as she blurted out, “The Eccles cakes? Please tell me that’s what you’re going to try. With a flaky pastry. It has to be flaky!”

  I laughed. “You are correct.”

  She nearly swooned at the idea. Food had become one of Mindy’s love affairs. Especially anything that had the word pastry in it.

  Two hours later, I stood over my Eccles cakes.

  “When can I eat it?” Mindy asked.

  Picking one up, I handed it to her. “Now.”

  She nearly snatched it out of my hands.

  Mindy took a bite and then moaned in delight. “The buttery, flaky pastry…it hits you first!” she said as she took another bite and chewed. “The fruit filling is so rich and citrusy. I love it!”

  The urge to jump around like a fool hit me as I watched her eat another cake.

  “Woman! Save some for my Instagram photos!”

  She rolled her eyes.

  After I searched for the perfect plate, I arranged the cakes that Mindy hadn’t eaten and walked out into the tea room. I must have moved them a dozen times before I settled on the perfect spot for pictures. Outside on one of the tables with the Farmhouse Tea sign in the background.

  “How many pictures are you going to take, Bri?! I want another one!” Mindy called out.

  Laughing, I snapped another picture and looked at it.

  “That was the last one. Have at it.”

  Mindy reached for another cake and nearly shoved the whole thing in her mouth. “Save some for Anson and Drake!” I stated as I turned toward the sound of a car pulling up.

  I smiled when I saw a young couple get out of the car.

  “Bristol? Bristol Overmann?”

  My guard instantly went up. Mindy grabbed the plate and held them close to her, fearful of anyone taking her currant cakes. “I’m going to take these inside and package them up.”

  With a nod, I focused back on the couple.

  “May I ask who you are?”

  The girl blushed with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I’m Lanny Ross, and this is my husband, Brad. I’m Anson’s assistant.”

  “Oh my gosh, yes! It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said as I reached out and shook her hand and then Brad’s. “Come on inside, we’re closed, but let me make you a cup of tea.”

  Lanny’s smile was so sweet as she gave me a quick nod, then they followed me into the tea room.

  “Mindy, this is Anson’s assistant, Lanny, and her husband, Brad.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Mindy said.

  “Would y’all like a cup of tea? Maybe a pastry?”

  “Thank you, tea would be lovely,” Lanny said. “Any kind will do.”

  “I’ll get it.” Mindy looked over at Brad.

  “Anything is fine with me too,” he said, “thank you.”

  I motioned over toward a table. “Sit down, please.”

  Lanny and her husband both took a seat, as did I.

  “Bristol, I’ve been trying to get in touch with Anson for almost two hours. So has his manager, Robert.”

  My smile faded. “He’s on his family ranch. I know he went for a ride with his father. He probably left his phone so they wouldn’t be interrupted.”

  She gave me a tight smile and nodded.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked as I started wringing my hands under the table.

  Lanny glanced down and then back up at me. She had a look on her face that said she wasn’t sure she should be sharing anything with me.

  “Bristol, there have been some pictures that were leaked to the press.”

  Each breath I took felt painful. Like someone had just dumped a hundred-pound weight on my chest.

  “Pictures?” I asked, my voice barely audible. What type of pictures? If they were of Anson with another woman, I wasn’t sure how I would handle it. A past lover? A fan?

  Just when it started to feel like Anson and I had a shot at a future, something like this had to happen.

  Oh, God. Stay calm, Bristol, and stop overreacting.

  Lanny cleared her throat. “They’re of you and Anson.”

  My brows furrowed. “Me and Anson?”

  She nodded. “Yes. It looks like the two of you are dancing. He dips you and then…kisses you.” Her face flushed. “Rather intently.”

  My hands slapped against my heated cheeks.

  “Sisterdale Dance Hall.”

  She nodded.

  “That’s not the worst part, though. Bristol, your name was printed in the article. It states you’re Anson’s old love from Comfort and the inspiration behind Anson’s first song. Well, actually it mentions almost all of his songs.”

  I closed my eyes and cursed.

  “Things may get a bit hairy for you, Bristol. We can do some things to protect you, though,” Brad said.

  “Protect me?” I asked. “From what?’

  Lanny sighed. “Robert is afraid that some of Anson’s more…zealous fans…will go on the attack regarding you. They’ll say some pretty mean and nasty things about you, your appearance. What you do for a living.”

  “I can handle that,” I stated.

  She gave me a sweet smile. “Bristol, I understand the whole sticks and stones and all. But, truth be told, you cannot and should not read what is said about you.”

  The door to the tea room opened, and my mother walked in. “What in the hell is going on? People are commenting on your Instagram posts and saying terrible things about you, Bristol.”

  My head jerked back to Lanny. “They mentioned my Instagram?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I’m sure it shows up with one search of your name. Your account isn’t private.”

  I stood and started to pace. I hadn’t even considered what it would be like when people found out about me and Anson.

  “What are they saying?” I asked.


  “Bristol,” Lanny said, her voice hard and demanding. “Reading the comments right now is something you really want to avoid, at least for a little while.”

  “My wife is right. You don’t want to know what they’re saying.”

  “I’m sorry, you are?” my mother asked as she walked over to Lanny and Brad. They both stood and introduced themselves. It was rude of me not to have done it sooner, but my head was spinning.

  “How bad will it get?” I asked. “I mean, I’ve worked really hard to build what I have. Can they damage my image or my business’s image?”

  Brad faced me. “I’m a lawyer who deals with this a lot. I represent a lot of public figures, so I see this all the time. Bristol, you’ve just been thrust straight into the limelight, if you will. What will happen is you’ll have some trolls making comments. Most likely your fan base will defend you. The one thing you want to stop is any fighting going back and forth on your social media accounts, but sometimes you can’t. Unless you hire someone to monitor your posts. Then you run the risk of people accusing you of deleting posts. Your brand is going to be fine in the end, though. It’s more of a hassle than anything, and you’ll be surprised at how fast this will blow over.”

  “The hurtful words will be the worst of it,” Lanny said.

  “How long will she have to deal with this?” my mother asked.

  Lanny looked between me and my mother. “That depends. It could be days or maybe weeks.”

  “Weeks?” I said somberly.

  “The first thing we need to do is have Anson address the pictures. Explain your relationship and then ask for his fans to respect your privacy and his. Most will, but I warn you, some won’t.”

  “Will they come to the tea room?” I asked.

  “The more curious ones will, but I doubt it will be the fans who don’t like the fact that you took Anson off the market. If…that is what’s going on,” Lanny said with a smile.

  All I could do was nod. “It is. I mean, we’re very much back together.”

  “Okay, then the ones who do have the balls to show up will be more curious than anything. They probably won’t even utter a word to you.”

  I nodded and wrung my hands while I kept pacing.

  Brad cleared his throat. “I suggest that you make a post on your Instagram, Bristol. Have you ever had anyone ask you if you know Anson? On your Instagram, I mean?”