“I’m guessing that’s rather obvious, huh?” Twin splotches of heat warmed her cheeks, and she glanced at the table. “Technically, I’ve been in love with him for ten years. So long, I can’t even remember what it’s like not being in love with him.” She laughed softly and raised her eyes. “Man, that actually feels really good to say out loud.”
Arabella smiled and rested her chin in her hands. “Do you think he’s ever suspected?”
She shook her head. “I doubt it. I don’t think Deacon believes he’s worthy of love. He doesn’t exactly see himself the way other people do.”
“What kept you from ever saying anything?” Sherry wanted to know.
Hannah lifted a shoulder. “Because it wouldn’t have made a difference.” Looking down at her simple blouse and shorts, she said, “Why would he have gone for a plain Jane like me when he could have had any girl he wanted?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she deadpanned. “Maybe because he loves you, too?”
Both women wore matching looks of exasperation, and Hannah scrubbed a hand across her face. She couldn’t blame them for not understanding. They didn’t know. They hadn’t been there.
“Of course Deacon loves me,” she admitted. “He loved me back in high school, too, I suppose. But he’s never been in love with me. He’s never seen me that way. How could he, when he was constantly having to defend me? That’s not sexy. That’s not the kind of girl a guy can walk down the hall with and feel proud to have on his arm.”
Pressure mounted in her sinuses, but Hannah refused to cry. She was no longer that girl. She’d come a long way, dammit. But that didn’t change the truth, and maybe once Sherry and Ella knew everything, they would understand.
“Deacon didn’t want someone like me. He wanted what every guy in high school wants: the beautiful, popular, confident cheerleader.”
Arabella’s sweet face pinched. “Seriously? I can’t see that. Not that he isn’t hot, or that cheerleaders wouldn’t want him. It’s the opposite, actually. But I still can’t picture him with the pom-pom crowd.”
“Picture it,” Hannah murmured, hiding her pain with a smile. “Not just any cheerleader either. The queen of the cheerleaders.” She sighed. “Sad part is that I can’t even be upset about it. If Deacon hadn’t fallen for Krista, then we wouldn’t have Max.”
Awareness dawned in Sherry’s eyes. “So Queen B is Max’s mystery mom?”
“The one and the same,” Hannah confirmed.
As that nugget sank in, she shoved her fingers through her strawberry-blonde curls. She could stop there. Now that Sherry and Ella understood her history better, they could probably fill in the remaining gaps on their own. But Hannah found that she didn’t want to stop. Now that she was finally talking about it, the whole story came pouring out.
“Krista was actually my friend first,” she shared. “At the time, I even thought she was the female equivalent of Deacon. Someone who saw past my verbal tics and loser reputation, and genuinely liked me.” She rolled her eyes. “Looking back, I missed all the signs. I think I was just so desperate for acceptance that I let her walk all over me.”
Ultimately, that stung the most. Knowing what a pathetic doormat she’d been.
“There was one time in high school I actually did think about telling him how I felt. Junior year, right before the Harvest Festival, I had this crazy fantasy of Deacon and me going to the dance together.” Hannah smiled to herself. A crazy fantasy she carried to this day. “Anyway, I must’ve acted too interested in the details or something, because somehow Krista figured out that I wanted to go. Once she knew that, it didn’t take rocket science to deduce who I wanted to go with.”
The painful memory washed over her again, and Hannah stared down at the table.
“Krista sat me down on my bed and convinced me not to tell him. She said that Deacon would never think of me that way, and telling him would only get me hurt.” Hannah raised her eyes and gave a pained smile. “Of course, the next day she went and asked him herself.”
“That bitch!”
Anger clouded Sherry’s face. Her cheeks were red, her lips curled. Arabella’s jaw hung open in disbelief. Strangely enough, it felt good to see these women having her back.
“Want to know what made it worse?” She laughed when they both gave a horrified nod. “I was the one who hooked them up. Deacon asked me what I thought about her, if he should take her to the dance, and I so badly wanted to tell him no. But by then Krista had fed into every insecurity I had. What good would it have done to keep them apart? It wasn’t like I was going to have him, and I wanted him to be happy.” Hannah’s shoulders drooped with a sigh. “Of course, Krista ended up breaking his heart anyway, so I guess that’s on me, too.”
“Damn,” Arabella muttered, staring blankly ahead. “It’s like an episode of 90210. I thought I’d seen it all, growing up in the music business. I’ve dealt with divas and drama like you wouldn’t believe…but that girl puts them to shame.”
“You don’t even know the half of it,” she murmured.
“Whatever happened to her?” Sherry asked. “The only thing Deacon has ever said is she’s not a part of their lives, which is why she isn’t listed on any of the insurance forms.”
“No, she wouldn’t be,” Hannah said with a sigh. “Krista abandoned them at the hospital.”
As the girls gasped, the shock of that day washed over her like it was yesterday.
“She checked herself out early and skipped town, leaving Deacon with a newborn baby to raise. She didn’t even bother with a note. Krista blamed him for ruining her modeling career…the girl worked two freaking fashion shows at JC Penney!”
Hannah rolled her eyes, feeling her long-held anger rising again. “Obviously, Deacon didn’t get her pregnant all by himself, and it’s not like they hadn’t been careful. He swore they always used protection. Guess that ninety-nine percent effective warning exists for a reason. Regardless, Krista lost her catalog job, and Deacon took the blame. When she left, the guilt just piled on.”
He’d always been quick to think the worst of himself and shoulder the guilt of any situation. Some days, it seemed like those shoulders held the weight of the world. It was yet another reason she’d nicknamed him Superman when they were kids.
“Quite honestly, it was a miracle she even went through with the pregnancy,” she told them. “She never wanted to be a mom. But from the second Deacon heard Max’s heartbeat during the ultrasound, he was all in. I’ve never seen a child more loved or wanted.”
It hadn’t been easy watching the man she loved get excited over having a baby with another woman, especially a conniving wench like Krista, but she understood it. Children were a blessing, Max especially. He gave Deacon the family he’d always wanted. Someone he could love and who’d unconditionally love him right back. Hannah and her parents had given him that for years, but it was easier to accept from his own flesh and blood. That’s why she couldn’t completely hate Krista. As horrible as she was, she’d given them Max.
Sherry rubbed her swollen belly, a sad frown marring her face. “I can’t imagine a mother abandoning her child. And Deacon…he must’ve been overwhelmed, raising Max on his own. He could’ve only been, what, twenty-two?”
“Yeah,” Hannah confirmed, thinking back on how he’d stepped up to the plate, no questions asked. “But he was never alone. I was always there.”
“And you still are.”
Arabella stared across from her with a new depth in her gaze, and as Hannah took in the women she now counted as friends, she realized she felt lighter than she had in years. The bus fell quiet, each of them lost in their own thoughts, and Hannah welcomed the silence. It hadn’t been easy, baring her heart like that, but she was glad that she had.
Now if only she could do the same with Deacon.
After a moment, Arabella dropped her hands to the table. “I know what it’s like being trapped in the friend zone. Hell, I lived it for months after living in the ‘cute kid’ zo
ne for years. Charlie knew me as the girl with headgear, acne, and a training bra.” She leveled Hannah with a look. “If I can overcome that, you can overcome anything.”
Hannah’s uncertainty must’ve read on her face because she quickly added, “I’m not saying it’ll happen overnight or that it wasn’t hard putting myself out there. It was. Scary, too. But I realized if I didn’t do it, I’d always wonder what if.”
The tiny hairs on Hannah’s arms tingled to life. It was as if she had a peephole into her brain. “Funny you should say that…it’s actually why I came back.”
“To go after Deacon?” At her small nod of confirmation, Sherry lifted her hands in the air and praised, “Hallelujah!”
“It’s like Arabella said, I couldn’t stop wondering what would’ve happened if I’d told Deacon how I felt instead of running away to Paris. It’s not like the distance helped me get over him, or time changed anything. When I decided to come back, I vowed I’d make a real go of it. See if we could have a future.” Glancing between them, Hannah scrunched her nose and went for broke. “I even have a name for it: Operation Find My Happy.”
Sherry clapped her hands and did a little shimmy. “Oh my God, I love it!”
“Me, too,” Arabella declared with a grin. “And you deserve to be happy, Hannah. So does Deacon.”
“That’s all I ever wanted,” she said, almost sheepishly. “To be the one who makes him that way.”
As Arabella’s sweet face lit from within, Sherry’s face did the opposite. Her forehead creased, her lips flattened, and her purple-painted fingernails began to tap, tap, tap, on the table.
Arabella snickered. “This is what I like to call Sherry’s plotting face.”
She scrunched her nose. “Should I be worried?”
“Nah,” she replied, waving away her concern. “Like I said, she’s good at what she does.”
Hannah’s stomach fluttered as those nails made another rhythmic round, then Sherry sat up tall in her seat, a smile to rival the Grinch crossing her pink glossy lips.
Evidently, Sherry had an idea. An awful idea.
Sherry had a wonderful, awful idea.
“Music men,” she declared, as if addressing a crowded lecture hall, “can be particularly difficult when it comes to love, but I’ve seen the way Deacon looks at you. All he needs is a good nudge or two, and he’ll get his head on straight. Mark my words.” With a pointed look at Arabella she said, “Ready to help me nudge?”
“Count me in,” she replied. “I love seeing love win. It reaffirms my belief in humanity.” Her hope-filled sigh ended with a frown. “Besides, I could use a good distraction.”
Immediately, the momentum shifted, and Sherry spun on her seat. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Arabella tried for a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m sure I’m overreacting. Charlie’s just been acting a little strange lately, that’s all. I don’t know.” Her shoulder rose and fell. “It almost feels like he’s hiding something?”
Her voice lifted at the end, like she was asking rather than telling, and the rare glimpse of vulnerability made Hannah want to wrap the band manager in her arms.
“I know it’s not another woman,” she told them, swinging her gaze to Hannah. “Charlie’s not the playboy the tabloids pegged him to be. He’d never be unfaithful. It’s probably all in my head, and I’m making problems where there aren’t any.” Arabella licked her lips and looked away. “Or…maybe he’s bored with me.”
Sherry wrapped an arm around her friend’s slender shoulder. “Not possible.”
“No way,” Hannah agreed. “That man is gone over you. Completely bonkers. If he’s acting weird, it may just be that he’s distracted with the tour. I know Deacon’s stressed.”
“Tyler, too. This is their biggest tour yet, and the weight of the world is on their shoulders. They’ve worked for so long to get here and it’s finally happening. I’m sure that’s what it is.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Arabella forced a smile. “But if so, that’s even more reason why I need a distraction. As Blue’s manager, if anything goes wrong, I’m the one responsible. I can’t stress about that and Charlie. I need to focus on something else. Something happy.”
Sherry side-eyed her friend, clearly still concerned, but said aloud, “A dose of new love is definitely that. And a happily ever after project will distract me from my swollen ankles.”
“Then it’s settled,” she said, rolling back her shoulders as the last traces of worry fled her pretty eyes. “Two nudges, ready for service. Deacon won’t know what hit him.”
Looking across the table, Hannah almost felt overwhelmed.
Other than Deacon, no one had ever offered her such easy acceptance and friendship. Granted, she had a strong hunch Sherry’s matchmaking methods were going to be far outside her wheelhouse, but they had to be better than what she was doing now. Plus, it’d be good to have a plan, and this way she’d no longer be alone in the battle.
Releasing a shaky breath, Hannah swallowed her fear and looked her new friends in the eyes. “Okay. Let’s do it. From this moment on, my love life—or what there is of it—is in your capable hands. I’m eager to learn from the love masters.”
Sherry whooped and from the excitement on her face, you’d have thought Hannah just announced it was raining chocolate cupcakes. As for Arabella, she appeared ready to tackle the world. Yanking a pad of paper and pen from her purse, she wrote at the top Hannah’s Top Ten Ways to Land a Stubborn Fiddler, then looked to Sherry for the first entry.
“Dear young padawan, your decision pleases us greatly,” Ms. Cupid proclaimed with mock seriousness, earning a giggle from them both. She raised her eyes to the clock on the wall, and after a quick calculation on her fingers, gave a sharp nod. “The timing will be tight, but it’ll work. Quick ladies, go get dressed, and make it sexy. We’ve got ourselves a stubborn music man to awaken!”
…
If anyone had told Deacon three years ago that he’d look forward to a night spent watching Hallmark television, he’d have said they were certifiable. Sappy love crap and implausible plots weren’t his brand of whiskey, but they did it for Hannah. She went nuts for that stuff, and after a long-ass day, nothing sounded better to him than having his son in his arms, a beer in his hand, and his best girl happily seated beside him.
Damn, he felt ancient. His back ached, his legs were stiff, and there was a strange twitch over his left eye. Maybe the crew had him pegged right with that “mister” stuff, but hell if the extra work he’d been putting in wasn’t worth it. Tonight’s lesson was with the audio techs, getting a better understanding of what went on behind the scenes. Grasping the ins and outs of the crew’s daily challenges would help him up his game on stage—and that would help him get the label’s attention.
Unfortunately, it also had him dead on his feet, ready for a dose of Hannah’s calm. But that’s what Hallmark was for. Unfortunately, as he shuffled the last remaining steps to the door, sounds the opposite of serenity reached his ears.
“One more time!”
“Okay, buddy,” Deacon heard Charlie say as he tugged open the door. “Here you go. Whoosh! You’re a master with a Nerf basketball. Now, don’t you have some G.I. Joes or something we can play with?”
“No. One more time!”
As Deacon reached the top of the stairs, he saw the bassist send his son a look. “I feel like you said that the last ten times, and you were lying. Ever heard of the boy who cried wolf?”
“Reasoning with a two-year-old?” Tyler asked him with a chuckle. He had an orange food substance smeared down the front of his white shirt and his daughter Lizzie in the highchair in front of him. “You really think that’s gonna get you anywhere?”
“Think you can do better, Chef Boyardee? All right, let’s switch. I’ll take over feeding the princess, and you lift this sack of potatoes over and over again.” Charlie pointed at Max, who planted his fists on his hips.
“Me not a sack. Me Ma
x.” He held the foam basketball in the air. “One more time!”
Deacon’s forehead furrowed in confusion as he made his presence known. “What on earth is going on in here?”
Bending down, he scooped Max into his arms and glanced around the bus. Toys were scattered everywhere, a bowl of Goldfish was turned over on the table, and the women were nowhere to be found. “Where’re Hannah and Sherry?”
“Getting ready,” Tyler answered, lifting a spoonful of Spaghetti-O’s to Lizzie’s mouth. “They wanted to have a Girls Night so I volunteered us to watch the kids.” He widened his eyes at his daughter and made a yummy noise. “Come on, this is good. Uncle Charlie and I used to live on this back in the day.”
“Ahh, yes,” Charlie muttered. “The good old days.” He turned to Deacon and said, “Be thankful you missed those days. It wasn’t pretty.”
“Girls Night, huh?” Max tugged on Deacon’s face, and he gave his son a smile, trying to hide his disappointment.
Hannah deserved to have some fun. She’d been cooped up inside the bus for three weeks, surrounded by colors, cheese crackers, and nonstop cartoons. Going out for a night of adult conversation and laughs was probably just what she needed to relax and unwind…but damn it, he wanted to be the one to take her. He’d missed out on enough with her as it was.
Seriously? An inner voice mocked. First Max, now Sherry and Arabella. Who will you be jealous of next…Lizzie?
Okay, fine. He was being ridiculous. He was genuinely glad Hannah was making friends, and besides, if he had any shot of convincing her to stick around after the U.S. leg of the tour, he had to let her see the bus wasn’t a prison cell. Maybe Girls Night was the answer.
It could even be fun, hanging back with the guys tonight.
Palming the Nerf basketball, Deacon turned to his son. “Want Daddy to teach you some of his tricks?”
Max nodded and looked at him like he was his hero.
Yeah, this wouldn’t be so bad. Bending his knees, Deacon shifted his hold on Max so he could throw unencumbered, then sprang into the air and threw. Nothing but net.
The Nanny Arrangement (Country Blues) Page 9