Holding a Hero

by Layne, Lyssa

  Adrian looked up from her plate. “This is incredible. As good as any five-star chef could make.”

  “Thanks.” Shannon beamed.

  Ryan couldn’t resist adding his two cents. “Told you so. My sister can cook.”

  Montana filled her mouth with the fish. She’d sampled Shannon’s excellent baked salmon many times, but tonight the filet seemed tasteless. Chalking up her lack of appetite to being frozen stiff, she refused to believe it had anything to do with the man next to her making her stomach nervous.

  She stole a sideways glance at Johnny.

  Balancing his plate on his knees, he kept bumping her leg with his. Every time he touched her, Montana’s pulse jumped. The man had her nerves humming worse than the howling wind licking at the canvas walls around them.

  Someone passed around a bottle of blackberry brandy. When it reached Montana, she poured a bit in her cup. Maybe the liquor could wash down her nerves. She sipped, careful not to make the same mistake she had earlier by chugging it.

  Joel set his plate on the ground next to his chair. “Delicious.”

  “Very good,” Stoney said.

  “Save room,” Shannon said. “Because I have dessert.”

  “It’s really storming outside. A regular blizzard.” Joel stared into his cup as if he could read the weather forecast there. “I didn’t expect this so early in October.”

  Ryan folded his hands across his stomach and stretched his legs out in front of him. “It’s normal for this time of year. Hot one day, cold the next.”

  Adrian poured more brandy into her cup. “Didn’t you go to college in Colorado?”

  “Yeah, but we were in the city, not the mountains. Snowplows kept the streets clear. I don’t remember getting around being a problem.” Joel motioned for the bottle of brandy. “Pass that over here.” When it reached him, he poured a liberal amount into his cup.

  “Will we be able to hunt in the storm?” Johnny asked.

  “We can, but we may have to drop in elevation,” Montana told him. “The snow might drive the elk down country.”

  “Do we all go together?” He caught and held her gaze. His blue eyes reminded her of the Colorado sky.

  “No.” She studied him over the rim of her cup. “We’ll break into two groups. It’s easier to approach elk in smaller numbers. I thought you and Joel with Ryan—”

  “I want you.”

  Montana felt as if every eye in the tent was glued on her. Heat climbed up her face. She nodded stiffly. “Whatever you like.”

  Ryan broke the uncomfortable silence. “Who wants to go with me? Do I hear any takers? Going once, going twice—”

  “Gone.” Adrian raised her hand. “I’d love to have you guide me.”

  “Me, too,” Stoney said. “Between the two of you, maybe I can learn how to do this thing.”

  Joel spoke. “That leaves me with you and Cowboy, Montana. You up for dragging an amateur around with you?”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  Johnny frowned. “It makes more sense to have the experts together and the beginners in the other group. You and Stoney go with Ryan. Adrian and I will ride with Montana.”

  Although Montana agreed, his high-handed manner irked her. “Sure.”

  “Works for me,” Ryan said. “I know just the place to start.”

  “Hopefully not hanging from one of these peaks.” Joel shuddered.

  Ryan grinned. “Nah. We’ll save that for another day.”

  “Thank God,” Joel said fervently, making everyone laugh.

  Shannon served her cheesecake drizzled with raspberry sauce on small tin plates.

  “You keep this up and I’ll have to hit the treadmill double hard,” Adrian said.

  “Thanks.” Shannon giggled. “But as skinny as you are, you don’t need one.” She patted her thighs. “Me, on the other hand…”

  “You’re perfect the way you are.” Adrian’s voice was warm, teasing.

  “Thanks.” Shannon ducked her chin into her collar as red climbed her face.

  Montana glanced between the women. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear Shannon and Adrian were flirting. Why? Shannon was straight. What was with these L.A. types? Did they think everyone was like them? Constantly hopping from bed to bed with no thought of who they hurt or left behind?

  She wasn’t that kind, and Shannon had never been either. Ryan liked the ladies and had been in a few relationships, but he’d never taken anyone for granted or purposely hurt someone. She supposed it was the lifestyle of a rock star to jump from woman to woman—were any happily married? But casual sex wasn’t for her.

  The wind howled around the edges of the tent and the hiss and crackle of the fire filled the air.

  “Pass that brandy,” Stoney told Joel.

  Adrian handed it to him. “Here.”

  “Thanks, buddy.”

  Montana watched, amazed, as Stoney filled his cup. What was this, his fourth or fifth refill? How was he still standing? Or even sitting? He seemed perfectly sober. They all did. If she had one more drink, she’d be lying flat on the floor, counting stitches in the roof seams.

  She glanced at Johnny. He seemed far away, lost in his thoughts, but not drunk. He’d removed his hat when he came inside and his hair hung over the back of his chair in a honey-colored sheet. She’d never liked long hair on a man. Now she had an overwhelming urge to run her fingers through the strands to see if they felt as soft as they looked.

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  Was she succumbing to celebrity? Intrigued because he was famous? She stood and moved to the stove, holding her hands over the heat. She struggled to rein in her wayward thoughts.

  Johnny spoke. “The only thing we’re missing is music.”

  “Too bad I didn’t pack my guitar,” Stoney said.

  “I have my old six string in the other tent.” Ryan jumped to his feet and ducked outside. “Be right back.”

  “Can he sing?” Johnny raised an eyebrow.

  “Sure,” Montana said loyally. “Not like you or anything, but he can carry a tune well enough that he sang with Maura Whittaker before she left town.”

  “You know my music?”

  Trapped, she scrambled for a truthful answer. “I liked your last CD.”

  He snorted. “You’re the only one.”

  “Yeah,” Stoney said. “Another flop like that bitch and we’ll all be in the unemployment line.”

  “I agree.” Adrian nodded. “We might as well start looking for a new job as soon as Betrayed drops.”

  “You’re wrong. This next one is going to fly,” Johnny said. “I feel it.”

  “You think the public is going to buy your breakup album, knowing how much they adored your homage to Teal?” Adrian sounded disgusted.

  “All the more reason. They’ll pick it apart trying to figure out when it all went wrong.” Johnny sounded brittle. Harsh. “If someone has it figured out maybe they could let me know.”

  “You said Dillon Travers lived here, maybe he could give us some pointers,” Adrian said. “Since he’s country music’s top dog.”

  Montana picked at a thread in her jeans. Although the talk of Johnny’s ex made her uncomfortable, her curiosity was piqued, too. Were the reports true? His wife left him for his best friend? Why? From what little Montana had gleaned from her search on the web, he’d loved the woman. The hurt in his voice seemed to confirm it.

  “You better hope.” Stoney drained his cup. “We all should.”

  “Maybe you’re right, Cowboy. I do know you’re going to find out the breakup is the best thing that ever happened to you,” Adrian said. “I keep telling you that. You just won’t believe it yet because your pride got stung. But Teal wasn’t right for you. We all saw it. You’re the only one who couldn’t.”

  Joel cleared his throat. “Maybe this isn’t the time or place to dissect Cowboy’s love life.”

  Adrian ignored him. “You couldn’t see past Teal’s pussy. She was looking for
a dick to climb and you provided her one. For whatever reason, Keifer’s just looked a little bigger.”

  “I know.” Johnny reached for the vodka bottle next to him. “I was a fucking dumbass.”

  “We’ve all been there.” Adrian leaned back and narrowed her eyes at him. “So stop wallowing and get on with it.”

  He raised the vodka bottle. “Whatever you say, babe. You’re the expert in chicks taking off.”

  Adrian shot him the finger. “Fuck you.”

  With a grin, Johnny said, “I would, but you don’t like dick…”

  Montana squirmed. Johnny might have a smart mouth, but his obvious pain made her want to comfort him. Hold him. Tell him everything would be okay. All very dangerous things. A straight path to heartache.

  Ryan ducked back into the tent, holding his guitar case. “Got it.”

  Johnny brightened. “All right!”

  Ryan withdrew his guitar as gently as if he were lifting a newborn from its cradle. “Come here, sweetheart.”

  All eyes locked on him as he strummed a few notes. Then, in a low, clear voice, he began to sing The Night the Lights Went out in Georgia.

  After a moment, Adrian joined him, her beautiful voice blending with the amateur’s. Together, they told the tale of a man condemned to die for sleeping with a married woman.

  When they finished, everyone sat silent.

  Montana doubted Ryan knew about Johnny’s wife and how she’d run off with another man, but the lyrics hit a little too close to home for her comfort. Johnny, however, seemed unfazed.

  “Nice job.” Adrian leaned forward and gave Ryan a high five. “You’ve got a great voice.”

  “So do you,” he said.

  She laughed. “That’s what they tell me.”

  In a moment he began to play an old tune. “You know Ghost Riders?”

  “Of course!” She began to hum the bars.

  Ryan played as Adrian sang about a ghost chasing a herd of cattle through a storm.

  Although shy in front of professional musicians, Montana opened her mouth and joined the chorus. The familiar words poured out in a heartfelt rendition her dad would have loved. Shannon joined in, and together their voices soared.

  Catching Shannon’s eye, Montana shared a tremulous smile with her. Wendall Weaver had loved it when Ryan played this song—one of his favorites. Montana swallowed the lump in her throat. God, she missed her dad.

  After the song ended, Adrian clapped. “Holy shit. You people are talented.”

  Ryan shrugged. “I play with Maura Whittaker from time-to-time.”

  Montana’s cheeks heated. Had she really just performed in front of a group of famous musicians? “It’s just an old favorite of my dad’s. One we’ve sung a million times.”

  “Not bad.” Johnny sounded less than enthusiastic. “You said you know my songs? Care to sing one for us?”

  Montana flinched at the derision in his voice. Why was he angry? “I can’t remember the title, but I like one a lot I heard the other day.” Embarrassed, she turned to Ryan. “What was that one song you sang the other day? Something about a rocker man’s woman?”

  “That’s it, but I can’t play it.”

  “I can.” Johnny smiled without warmth. “In spite of its short two-week stay on the charts, I committed those particular lyrics to memory.”

  Ryan handed him the guitar. “Go ahead.”

  “Why not?”

  Montana’s gaze locked on Johnny’s fingers as they flew over the guitar’s strings. Long, graceful. Agile.

  What would they feel like on her body?

  Her panties dampened.

  Before her thoughts went too far down that road, she focused on the lyrics.

  Johnny sang of a woman he’d loved and lost.

  Now that Montana heard the song clearly, the words rocked her. Her heart ached for the raw emotion Johnny put in his song. The love he’d had for Teal McNamara had been pure, real and unvarnished.

  A man in love with a woman so hard it hurt.

  A woman who left him for his best friend.

  He still loves her.

  All his flirting and hot looks and sexy words were meaningless. He longed for his ex. Montana was just somebody to fill the time with, to help him forget another woman. She’d been stupid to even momentarily forget how stars behaved. To them, women were a commodity. Easy come, easy go.

  Johnny Cortez was one of the biggest womanizers around. He prided himself on his sexual talent and how many women he could prove them with. Almost every website she’d visited told tales of how he’d loved ’em and left ’em. His quick smile and blue eyes were part of his arsenal, his charm and smooth words a heavily practiced game. One he’d lifted to an art form.

  A novice like her was easy pickings for an old pro like him.

  If Tom Kerrigan hadn’t schooled her so well, she might have fallen for Johnny’s act.

  The minute the song ended, she stood and filled her coffee cup. “Dawn comes early. I’m going to turn in.”

  “You leaving already?” Shannon sounded concerned.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Just beat.”

  “Was it my song?” Johnny sounded sarcastic. “I have others.”

  “Of course not.” She refused to meet his eyes as she slipped into her coat, hat and gloves. “I’ve been up since four this morning and I’m done in. Have a good night.”

  “Have a good one.” Johnny sounded cool, distant.

  “Night, girl.” Adrian flashed a friendly smile. “I’m going to follow you soon.”

  “Me, too,” Shannon said.

  Joel gave her a quick hug. “Thanks for everything, Montana.”

  “You’re welcome. See you in the morning.” She opened the flap and ducked into the storm. The wind blew harder than before and a couple inches of snow stuck to the ground.

  Making her way to the other tent, she welcomed a chance to be alone and collect her thoughts. From the minute Johnny Cortez had walked into her life, he’d tilted her world in a dangerous direction. One that would leave her alone and hurting if she allowed him to continue.

  She couldn’t let her guard down for one minute.

  ~*~

  Shortly after Montana left, so did Shannon and Ryan.

  Johnny played idly with the strings on the guitar, putting notes to the lyrics he’d come up with earlier. All about a leggy blonde.

  Disgusted, he shoved the instrument away.

  Anger and disappointment simmered. Why did every woman want something from him? For half a minute he’d allowed himself to think Montana was different.

  Ryan was a decent guitar player, Shannon’s tone good for an amateur. But Montana’s voice had professional quality. Something she no doubt knew. Did she think she’d sing him one song and he’d call the studio and set up a day to record her album?

  Like Teal did?

  He looked around. “Where’s the vodka? I need a drink, damn it.”

  “What’s eating you?” Adrian asked.

  “Nothing.” He glared at her.

  She met his gaze evenly. “Bullshit.”

  He broke eye contact first. “I didn’t come here to sing, or put on a concert.”

  “No one asked you to,” she reminded him. “You volunteered.”

  She had him there. No one had pressured him to perform. He’d done it on his own.

  Stoney spoke from his position, slouched in one of the camp chairs. “Our man’s getting all wound up over a chick. Can’t you see it?”

  Adrian gaped at Johnny. “Who? Shannon? Oh my God. Montana?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.” She knew him too well.

  Johnny shrugged. “She’s hot. So what?”

  Joel jumped up so fast he knocked over his chair, and began to pace. “Cowboy, the whole point of coming here was to get away from girls. Please keep that in mind. Montana isn’t fast like the women you’re used to. She’s sweet and innocent and not remotely a party animal.”

  “Joel’s right,” Adri
an said. “These girls aren’t used to people like us.”

  Joel whirled toward her. “And you. What’s with the come-ons toward Shannon? What game are you playing?”

  Adrian smiled like a cat. “No game. I dig her.”

  Rolling his eyes, Joel said, “Right. You dig her same as Cowboy does Montana. You’d like her in your bed. You all think with your crotches.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Will the three of you lay off? I don’t need any of you telling me who to date,” Johnny said.

  Date?

  He meant screw.

  Dating implied a relationship. Something he refused to ever get into again.

  Joel stopped in front of him. “I think you do. We all kept quiet when you married Teal. Not one of us approved, but you insisted you knew what you were doing. Nobody could say a word against her. Well, look how well that turned out.” He waved his hands in the air. “Look around. We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, man. In a snowbound tent hiding from your ex who’s bent on taking you down. And I don’t mean between her legs. So you’ll excuse me if I think we have a bit to say about who you do or don’t see.”

  Johnny opened his mouth to tell Joel to go fuck himself, then snapped it shut. God damn. His manager had a point. Johnny had illustrated it perfectly by the song he’d sung. That particular tune, more than any other, had been written for and about Teal. He’d been thinking of a completely different blonde when he sang those familiar lyrics, though. Was he going down the same old street again? Falling for the wrong girl?

  With Heartbeat he’d bared his soul. Written and put out an album full of shitty love songs. The band had done what they always had and supported his decision to make a country CD. When it bombed, no one said I told you so.

  Until now.

  He couldn’t fuck up twice. Not just his career rode on the right direction. Everyone’s did. So while he might fuck Montana, in no way could he let his sexy guide worm her way under his skin.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Freezing mornings were the worst thing about hunting camp.

  Montana had slept in her thermal underwear, and tucked into her sleeping bag she felt snug as a bug in a rug. But she knew all too well how cold it would be once she climbed out of her warm cocoon.