Write You a Love Song

by Francisco, Fabiola

  “Nah,” I shake my head to emphasize my lie.

  “What do you want to drink?” Knox kisses Ainsley’s forehead, and she looks up at him with stars in her eyes.

  “Beer would be great, thanks.”

  My brother couldn’t have ended up with someone better than Ainsley, especially after all the bullshit he went through in his personal life and career.

  “Tell me, you and Lia?” Ainsley whispers conspiratorially when Knox heads toward the bar.

  “Don’t start playing matchmaker,” I warn, pointing a finger at her.

  “She’s pretty.” Ainsley looks around the bar, no doubt trying to get a look at Lia without being obvious, completely ignoring my warning.

  “She’s beautiful.” My eyes land on Lia, her long, auburn hair falling in waves down her shoulders and those greens eyes twinkling under the lights as she catches up with old friends.

  “Then, what’s the problem?” Ainsley’s question is laced with exasperation.

  I look back at Ainsley, dropping the empty beer bottle on the table next to me and placing my hands in my back pockets.

  “We’ve never crossed the line of friendship, and I feel like after years of being apart, I might get my best friend back.” I chuckle when Ainsley’s eyebrows furrow into a wiggly line. “Don’t look at me that way.” I shove her shoulder lightly. “We’ll see. If she’s back for good, then I have time to make my move.”

  “I don’t know. It seems like a few of the guys are beating you to it.”

  My head snaps in Lia’s direction, and I see a guy talking to her. I narrow my eyes but relax when I realize it’s just Eli, my brother’s best friend.

  “I’m not worried.”

  “Eli’s the biggest flirt in town,” Ainsley pushes me.

  I shake my head. “He knows she’s off-limits.”

  She pats my shoulder with a know-it-all smile and grabs the beer from Knox when he returns. “Don’t you think Axel should tell Lia how he feels?” she asks my brother, disregarding my presence.

  “He hasn’t grown the balls yet. It might take another thirty years for him to make a move,” Knox laughs.

  “You’re an ass.” I walk to the bar and order another beer.

  As soon as I met Lia in preschool when I was three, she became my friend. We were inseparable growing up, but the older I got, the more I felt something for her. High school was hell, watching her go to dances with other guys, but I didn’t want to ruin what we had, and she never told me how she felt. I guess we both valued our friendship more than anything.

  “This one’s on me.” A soft voice rings around me.

  I look to my right and smile. “Nope.” I shake my head and pay for two beers before she can reach into her purse.

  “Axel Bentley,” she crosses her arms. “A deal’s a deal.”

  “How about when you get your own place, you have me over for a drink to celebrate?” I negotiate.

  “Deal,” she reaches her arm out. I shake her hand with a crooked grin.

  “No changing the terms after we shake on it.” She lifts a brow.

  I make an X over my chest. “Cross my heart.”

  Her face lights up, and she taps her bottle to mine before turning her back to the bar and facing the crowd. “I love this place,” she sighs.

  “Welcome home.” I put my arm around her shoulder and tug her to me.

  …

  chapter 2

  Axel

  I carry the bale of hay and drop it on the pallet, next to the others already placed in the hay barn. I make sure the bales are steady yet not too tight so air can circulate as I continue the strenuous job of stacking bale after bale from the tractor to the barn.

  I remove my black hat and wipe my brow, lifting the hem of my shirt to dry my sweat. With my hat back on, I take a deep breath and take a short break. Hands on my waist, I observe my work so far and count the bales already stacked.

  “How’s it goin’ in here?” I turn to find my dad standing at the entrance of the barn.

  “Good.” I walk toward him, grabbing the water bottle on the ledge of the barn wall. “I’m almost done with this round.” I take a chug of water.

  “Looks good,” my dad assesses, his eyes skimming the space. “I’ll tell Ray to bring over the other tractor.”

  “Thanks. If we can at least get these indoors and stacked in here today, it’ll guarantee they’re stored safely.” I hold the bottle by my side, between two fingers, and put my other hand on my waist.

  “You’ve got it under control,” my dad slaps my back. “I heard Lia moved back.” At the sound of her name, I turn my head to look at him.

  “Yeah.”

  “Your momma told me. Ainsley told her,” he chuckles.

  “Great. I can imagine a few choice things Ainsley also told her,” I shake my head and put the bottle back on the ledge to cross my arms.

  “Anyway,” my dad grins widely, “your momma wants to have her over for dinner this week. Says it’s been too long since she’s spent time with Lia.” His hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing with compassion. He knows as much as I do that my momma would love nothing more than for me to marry Lia. I can imagine Ainsley egged on her dream wedding, both of them conspiring behind my back.

  “Women,” I say aloud though I intended to keep that to myself.

  My dad full out laughs. “You know it.” He leaves it at that, not asking about Lia or if anything’s going on between us. Conversations between men are simpler.

  “Tell Ray to bring over the other tractor, and I’ll get these last few stacked up before he does.” I jut my chin toward the bales left on the tractor.

  “Thanks.” My dad walks away, leaving me alone to nurse thoughts of Lia. I was doing my damnedest not to think about her in any way more than friends these last two days, but that’s impossible. Knowing she’s back for good has me thinking it may just be our time to try for more.

  I get back to work, focusing on my current task. As soon as Ray arrives with the tractor full, I hustle to get all the bales placed before sunset.

  Nothing like manual labor to distract me from one woman in particular with green eyes and tanned skin. I adjust myself in my jeans and finish the last row, turning on the fan in the barn so the air circulates and avoid moisture ruining the bales of hay.

  I climb on the tractor Ray left and drive back toward my parents’ house, dropping my hat in the seat and combing my hair with my hands before I walk inside.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you stopped by before you left. I was talking to your father–”

  “And you want to invite Lia over for dinner,” I interrupt my mom. A guilty smile crosses her face.

  “It’s been so long since we’ve seen her.” She wipes her hands on a kitchen towel.

  “I’m sure that’s all…” I lift my eyebrows and cross my arms.

  “Well, yes. Ainsley mentioned she met her the other night, which you did not tell me about,” she points an accusing finger at me. “I thought it would be nice to have her over. We can catch up and…” she trails off, tapping her pointer finger over her lips.

  “Stop scheming,” I warn. “She was my best friend growing up.”

  “You two were inseparable. I’m sure if she hadn’t gone away to college you’d be married by now. Maybe given me a couple grand-babies.”

  “Mom,” I groan and stare up at the ceiling, asking for patience from above.

  “Okay,” she pauses. “I’ll mind my own, but I would love to have her over. It’s been far too long.”

  “I’ll ask her,” I say, knowing she loves Lia. Like she said, when we were younger, Lia and I were always together, causing trouble mostly.

  “Thank you, sweetie. Do you want to stay for dinner?” She turns to look at the counter where she’s peeling potatoes.

  “Not tonight. I’m gonna head home and shower. I’m beat.” I kiss her cheek and smile when she squeezes my hand.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Bye, Mom.”


  I climb into my truck and lower the radio’s blaring volume from this morning, and take the narrow road to my house. I always knew I wanted to build on this property. The land my parents own spanning over acres and acres, enough for a few homes if we wanted. Thankfully, it’s mostly bare, leaving me with the quiet solitude of the mountains and my horse.

  Before walking into the house, I head to the small barn I built after I moved in. As much space as we have in the barns back near my parents’ house, I found it inconvenient to have to drive that way if I got the itch to ride Jolene at any time. I hear her nicker before I see her and smirk.

  “I’m here, girl.” I run a hand down her side, patting her gently. “You hungry?” She moves her head up and down as if answering me.

  While I wait for Jolene to eat, I grab my phone. Opening a new text message, I begin typing.

  Axel: I’m here to rectify my best friend duties starting with a Bentley original home cooked meal. My mom wants to know if you’re free to go over for dinner this week

  I smile as I send the message, surprised by how quickly she responds.

  Lia: hell yes I want Deb’s cookin. Just tell me day and time

  Axel: how’s tomorrow at six?

  Lia: perfect. thanks

  Axel: see ya then

  I lock my phone and clean up Jolene’s stable, running my hand down the center of her head one more time before saying goodnight.

  In need of a shower, I head to my house, leaving my boots on the front porch. As the hot water runs down my body, thoughts of Lia cross my mind. Memories of her and visions of what she’d look like in my bed. My hand moves down my body, grabbing hold of my dick and squeezing as it moves up and down its length. I need to relieve this bottled up need for her or dinner tomorrow is going to be harder to get through than my dick is right now as I think about her.

  My free hand lands on the shower wall, holding my weight as my knees buckle. I move my hand faster, images of Lia’s smile, legs, and perky tits washing over me. As I envision entering her, a groan echoes around the shower as I come.

  I rinse my body, washing away the trace of what she does to me, but now there’s no denying that what I feel is definitely more than friendship.

  Preorder Roping Your Heart

  prologue

  Reese

  I lean against the bar at Riot, my favorite place to listen to live music in this city, and cradle my beer bottle in my hand. The smooth voice singing into the microphone sweeps over me in a gentle caress that tempts me to follow it into any private room. I’ve been coming here on Thursdays for weeks, sneaking away from everyone in my life saying I have work plans just so I can hear him sing. My best-kept secret.

  Music has been a part of my life since I can remember. Having a brother who is a musician, it became an even more important part of my life when he and his band became Nashville’s hottest group. For me though, it’s the words. The symbolism, the declarations of love, the emotions that are pulled out of me.

  My eyes flutter closed as he sings a new one, a slower tune. I only know that his name is Dex from the introductions that come from that stage. My body sways against the bar to the rhythm his guitar is creating, a flawless sound that would make any of the big names in the industry envious.

  When I open my eyes, Dex is looking at me, his eyes piercing mine as if he were only singing to me. As if this bar were empty and I’m receiving a private show. Captivated by him and his voice, I allow myself one moment to forget the past.

  I’m jolted back to the present when the song ends, and Dex sets his guitar down. As if on cue, a group of women rushes to him like fleas to a filthy dog.

  I shake my head and leave my half drank beer on the bar, heading home. I remind myself of the one rule I set in my life a long time ago: No more musicians.

  …

  Dex

  I look over the top of the heads of the women clawing for my attention to find the woman who was leaning against the bar. I’ve seen her come in the last few weeks, always alone and she always leaves as soon as my set is done.

  “Excuse me,” I try to weed through the crowd, but they create a barrier, calling my name. This is why you don’t shit where you eat. They don’t understand the meaning of one-night-stands. I made no promise to commit to any of them.

  Now that brunette…

  Where did she go?

  I run a hand through my hair and scan the other side of the bar. She’s gone.

  “Fuck.”

  “What’s wrong, baby?” A blonde moves in to stand next to me.

  “Nothing.” I step away. For the first time, none of these women appeal to me.

  When I looked into that woman’s eyes, I wanted something more than just a night of fucking. I wanted a woman to sing to, someone to give my songs meaning.

  “Hey,” Riot’s manager, Steve, walks over to me, shaking my hand. “Great set.”

  “Thanks, man. Hey, did you see the brunette standing by the bar? She left as soon as the song ended.” I take the risk to ask him.

  “Nope, sorry,” he grins. “But you’ve got your posse.” He tilts his head to the group of women. I shake my head and sigh. I bet I can dodge them if I leave out the back.

  “Thanks. Maybe she’ll come back in another day.” Steve places his hand on my shoulder and nods without conviction.

  “See you tomorrow,” he shakes my hand and gets back to work.

  I spin around the bar one last time, avoiding wandering hands, in case she was in the bathroom and came out, although I know that she left. For the last month, she’s been showing up and leaving. Today though, I saw her. Not just her face or her body but her emotions. I got a glimpse of something more than a just woman at a bar, something I want to uncover with more than my dick.

  I’m so screwed.

  …

  chapter 1

  Dex

  Eight months later

  Reese: 911!

  Dex: What’s wrong?

  Reese: can u come over? pretty please with sugar on top and a million cherries?

  Dex: on my way

  Reese: door’s unlocked

  I stare at her final words, curious as to what the hell is going on. I jump in my car and race to Reese’s apartment, heart pounding in my chest as every bad scenario jumps through my mind. I slam on my breaks and take a sharp right into the apartment complex parking lot. Parking, I jog up the stairs to her apartment, the door cracked open.

  “Reese?” I call out, worried someone has her held hostage or something. Doubtful since she texted me, but she sounded helpless.

  “In here,” her voice calls out, and I follow its path. I walk into the kitchen and find her standing on the counter with a rolling pin in her hand.

  “What the hell is goin’ on?” I scratch my head, my eyes scanning the room in case someone is about to attack me.

  “Mouse!” She points to the floor with the rolling pin.

  “What?” My eyebrows bunch as I process her words.

  “I saw a mouse,” she screeches.

  My hand lands on my chest and I shake my head. “I thought someone broke in and had you tied up or something. Where did the mouse go?”

  “I don’t know. I think it ran under the fridge. Also, hellooooo mice are scary. I almost prefer someone had broken in.”

  “Reese, that’s not something to joke about.” I cross my arms and look around until I find the broom and dustpan. “I’m going to move the fridge.”

  “Kill it!” she screams like a maniac. I look over my shoulder to see her standing on the counter hugging the rolling pin. I hold in my laughter, pretty sure she’d hit me across the head with it if I laugh at her.

  I scoot the fridge forward, squeaking against the tile. Grabbing my phone from my back pocket, I turn on the flashlight and shine it on the space behind the fridge, looking everywhere. Nothing.

  “Over there.” I jump back, hitting my back on the counter. Reese roars in laughter, and I turn around to glare at her.

  “
I can just leave.” She clamps her mouth shut, biting down her smile.

  “Sorry,” she murmurs between closed lips.

  “Where did you see it?”

  “Under the stove.” She points to the appliance in front of her.

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to destroy your kitchen by removing every appliance from its place.”

  “I promise.”

  I pull the stove forward, and sure enough, a little creature is hiding in a corner. I look at Reese and put my finger over my lips. “Don’t scream. I need it to come out of its hiding place for me to grab it.”

  “So, it’s there?” Her blue eyes light up with hope, and I can’t help but stare at her a moment, taking her in.

  I nod and swallow hard before focusing back at my task of trapping a mouse on a Saturday morning. I lift the broom and cover the corner, the mouse trying to sneak away.

  “Did you get it?” Reese whispers from behind me.

  “Shhh…” I press the broom harder against the corner when the mouse tries to run from under the bristles. “Do you have a box or something?”

  “Here.” She leans over from her spot on the counter to the sink, reaching for a plastic container. “Use this.”

  I catch the it with one hand, pushing the stove further out so I can squeeze in to get a better angle. I carefully lift the broom and drop the container, but it lands sideways. Quickly, I brush the broom again, catching the mouse before it makes a run for it.

  “Did you get it.”

  “Almost.”

  “You better get it, Dex. Please. I’ll buy you breakfast because I can’t cook until I disinfect this entire apartment.” I chuckle and focus on the mouse. Bending, I grab the Tupperware, angle it against the side of the broom, slowly removing it. When the mouse tries to escape, it runs right against the side of the box.

  Grinning proudly, I slide the dustpan under the container and lift it, keeping one hand on top. “Got it,” I brag.

  “Great, now get rid of it.” She points out of the kitchen and waves her hand frantically.

  “Be back.” I walk out of her apartment and down the stairs. Once outside and far away from the building, I drop the dustpan and lift the box, letting the poor animal scurry away. I’m surprised it didn’t have a heart attack or play dead like those videos I’ve seen scrolling through Facebook.