Nashville Nights

by Alicia Hunter Pace

  “Then what are you doing back in Kentucky?”

  Slow to answer, he said, “Coming back for you.”

  “Even though I told you I wasn’t ready?”

  “You wouldn’t take my calls or return my texts. What was I supposed to do?”

  “You were supposed to get on that tour bus in the morning and live your dreams.”

  “I was. But I’m fighting for you this time. I wanted us to live our dreams together.”

  Feeling the tug of emotion already, she wrapped both hands around his. Her eyelids tighten despite her attempt to stay calm. A tear spilled over, and she wiped her face against the sleeve of her shoulder. “I’m not going to win here, am I?”

  “Probably not,” he answered back, a glimmer of hope seeping out of his eyes.

  Standing, she dried her face and climbed up in the bed. Hospital rules or not, she wanted him to hold her. Resting her head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her.

  “And exactly what was your plan when you got here?” she asked into his chest.

  “I had twelve hours before the bus left. It’s a five-hour drive each way, therefore I had roughly an hour or so to convince you to come with me. Other than that, I didn’t have a plan.”

  “Cutting it close there, cowboy.” She laughed.

  “I don’t want to do this without you, Sera. It has nothing to do with you needing me. I’m the one who needs you. We can make this work.”

  “I know,” she replied. “I listened to the interview this morning. You’re not happy and neither am I—I’m miserable. And I do need you. We need each other.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “So you’ll come?”

  She nodded. “Will they postpone the tour?”

  “For a few weeks, until I can get around without crutches.”

  “I have to get Roy’s car back home, though.”

  “Why didn’t y’all bring Maggie’s car?”

  “Maggie’s not with me.”

  “Who brought you, then?”

  She swallowed back more tears. “I drove.” She bit down on the inside of her bottom lip as her eyes flooded. Not out of sadness, but with relief and pride of how far she’d come.

  He hugged her tighter. “Baby, I’m proud of you.”

  Needing some space to catch her breath, she sat up, corralling the river on her face with her wrist. “It’s crazy what you’ll do when you really want something.”

  Rubbing a hand over her thigh, he winked. “Kind of like throwing your career away for someone you love?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” she answered, smiling back. “By the way, how’s the truck?”

  He rolled his eyes. “The truck isn’t totaled, but it’s going to be a while before she’s back into shape.”

  “Maybe you just need to get a more sensible truck.”

  “Hey, I like my truck.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to like driving it, though.” She wrinkled her nose.

  “You’ll just have to get your own sensible mode of transportation, then.”

  “What about a bicycle?”

  “Honey, I don’t think a bicycle is going to be all that sensible for your trips back home to visit Roy.”

  Laughing, she said, “Probably not.”

  “That reminds me.” Tyler eased up in the bed. “Open that drawer.” He pointed to the table beside his bed. “Jayson had to rescue it out of the truck for me, but there’s something in there for you.”

  Opening the drawer, she was a little nervous about what she might find, then recognized the small, square cardboard box and her own handwriting addressing it to Tyler. A lump lodged in her throat as she picked it up. “You kept it.” She swallowed, the flow of tears starting again.

  “Of course I kept it.”

  Taking out the smaller velvet box, she opened the lid and looked down with eyes wide at the tiny engagement ring Tyler had bought for her when he was only nineteen.

  “I lied, Sera. I did have a box of regrets. This was it. The day I got this back in the mail was the day I knew I’d regret losing you for the rest of my life.”

  She could barely see through the moisture as Tyler slid the ring back in place where it belonged and would never leave again.

  “I have every intention of getting you something bigger, but I hope this one will do for now.” Looking nervous, he asked, “Marry me, Sera. I’m asking again . . . will you marry me?”

  “Tyler.” She kissed his lips. “I don’t need a bigger ring. All I need is you.”

  EPILOGUE

  Sera quit fiddling with her hands as soon as the car came to a stop. Even with the bit of excitement that came with what the day might bring, she couldn’t make herself look up and instead stared down at her lap. Her nerves did somersaults inside her belly, making her rethink the sausage and biscuit she’d eaten early that morning. She’d passed on lunch when they stopped an hour ago. Eating wasn’t an option until she got this over with.

  Unaware of the breath stuck at the back of her throat, she let it go when she felt a hand cover the top of her thigh.

  “Hey,” Tyler whispered. “You all right?”

  Blowing out a puff of air, she took in another deep gulp and finally looked up to see his handsome face marked with a crinkle of worry across his brows. She was happy that he was driving again now that the cast was permanently gone. Although with the schedule they’d kept, there hadn’t been time for anything fun while out on the road. Like he’d said, the days were exhausting, yet satisfying too. He loved what he did and she loved being there sharing the experience with him. Being together at least cured the loneliness. Besides, she knew it wouldn’t always be like this. Tyler had promised to slow down. They planned to take time off this spring so that she could finally get settled into their Nashville home.

  “I’m nervous,” she said, clasping her hands together.

  Tyler reached up, smoothing back her hair behind her ear. “He sounded good on the phone.”

  Eyes falling back to her lap. “You should have told me what you were up to.”

  Tilting her head up to look up at him, Tyler answered. “You’re right. I have should have and I’m sorry.”

  Blinking back the tears trying to form, she knew her apprehension was misplaced. She wasn’t upset with Tyler. The fact that he’d gone to the trouble of tracking down Rollins and even set aside time so they could meet up with him only proved further how much he really loved her. Her worry came from not knowing what she was about to see. Rollins had told Tyler his life was going well, but that could have been a ruse. She hadn’t known about this meeting until last night after Tyler’s show in Charleston when he told her they weren’t moving on with the rest of the gang. She hadn’t even thought about how close they were to Welch, West Virginia, when they crossed the state line a day ago. Tyler had, though, and he’d been planning this for weeks.

  “I’m just afraid he’s going to be just like I remember,” she uttered.

  “But what if he’s not?”

  Rolling her eyes, she grinned. “You always look at things so positively.”

  “Someone’s got to,” he teased.

  Entwining their fingers together, she looked him in the eye. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being the husband I always knew you would be.”

  They’d flown to Florida four days after Tyler was released from the hospital and were married on the beach with no one but Roy and Diana present. Now, two months later, she hadn’t regretted the decision for a moment. Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek. Trying to ease her own tension, she said, “Not many men would hunt down a guy their wife slept with to set up a meeting between the two.”

  “Darlin’, I’m not most men.” No, he wasn’t. “Besides, I told you that doesn’t matter. The only thing that’s important to me is that you’re all right. And you’re not. You still feel guilty about him.”

  “I can’t help but feel that way. I feel like I let him down. We were
friends and I turned my back on him.”

  “Be his friend now. I’m pretty sure that’s him sitting right over there.”

  She followed Tyler’s finger pointing out the window to a bench in front of the coffee shop where they were meeting Rollins. It was him. Wearing jeans and a large brown coat, his uncovered blond hair was still trimmed short in a military-style cut. He wasn’t smiling, but wasn’t frowning either and for a moment she wondered how he felt about seeing her. That was until she noticed he wasn’t alone. A woman bundled with a heavier dark blue coat and matching scarf sat holding his hand. Her brightly colored copper hair peeked out of the hat she wore. Even with the layer of clothing Sera could see her belly protruded out in front.

  Pulling her coat around her middle, Sera stepped out of the car. The late November wind smacked against her face, making her thankful for the warmth Tyler’s arm gave as he wrapped it loosely around the small of her back. Putting on a smile, they made their way toward Rollins and his friend, but her smile faded as soon as Rollins’s eyes flared with recognition and he stood with open arms. Embracing the hug he offered, she buried her head into his chest. Trying to hold back the tears streaming down her face, she failed miserably. After several attempts, she gave up and let them fall. For several long minutes, they stood enfolded together before Rollins finally pulled back. Even through the cluster of emotions strewn across his face, she saw a glimmer of the buoyant man he’d been when they’d first met.

  “It is good to see you,” he said, before holding out his hand to shake Tyler’s. “Luke Rollins.”

  “Tyler Creech,” Tyler said, returning the handshake thoroughly.

  “And this is my wife, Leslie.” Rollins pulled the very pregnant woman to his side.

  Sera said hello as she dried the remaining tears, then followed behind the couple as they went inside the coffee shop. She was a little nervous when Tyler and Leslie took another table to give her and Rollins privacy to catch up. She liked having Tyler there, but also knew that she and Rollins wouldn’t talk about the things they needed to with others around.

  The first few minutes were spent trying to get over the awkwardness of seeing one another. How have you been? Fine. How about you? Good. Rollins told her he worked for the highway department and that his and Leslie’s baby was due in February. Sera listened, happy that Rollins really did seem to have it together.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me Tyler Creech was the Tyler you were engaged to.”

  Rollins angled his head toward the table where Tyler and Leslie sat. A handful of people gathered, wanting pictures and autographs. Used to the interruptions, Sera turned back to Rollins, feeling guilty for never sharing that bit of information with him. He knew she was engaged when they met, but at the time, Tyler was still struggling to get his name known, so it hadn’t seemed important, and the two of them were over by the time she and Rollins grew close.

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” she played it off.

  “Wasn’t a big deal? You married him. That’s a pretty big deal.”

  “I did,” Sera threw back, smiling. “What can I say? He drives me crazy.” Then, putting it in terms that only Rollins would understand, she said, “Actually, let me rephrase that. He drove me sane.”

  That was exactly what Tyler had done. He’d taken her mangled soul and driven her not back to the person she used to be, but to a better version of the woman she once was.

  “It’s good to see you happy, Sera.”

  “You too,” she answered back.

  That was all that needed to be said. Happiness was all either one of them had ever wanted for the other.

  About the Author

  Dena grew up in central Texas, but has lived in the foothills of Kentucky with her husband and two sons long enough to call it home.

  She loves writing stories of happily ever after, as well as taking road trips with her family. She has an affinity for all kinds of music, but is partial to her southern roots.

  You can see what she’s up to at www.demiro1029.wordpress.com, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/authordenarogers, or on Twitter @DenaRogers_.

  Copyright © 2014 by Dena Rogers.

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

  Published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  57 Littlefield Street

  Avon, MA 02322

  www.crimsonromance.com

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-8405-2

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8405-3

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-8406-0

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8406-0

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © iStockphoto.com/GoodOlga

  His Temporary Wife

  Leslie P. García

  Avon, Massachusetts

  Contents

  Cover

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright

  Working for minimum wage at a retail building supply store while raising children and crossing the border from Laredo into Nuevo Laredo may seem to be an adventure, but it drains a body of dreams and the energy to chase them. Fortunately, at a difficult point in my life, I met Maria Eugenia Lopez. Jeannie was bubbly and energetic, friendly—perky, even—all the things I wasn’t. A gifted woman, Jeannie put herself through college and shared her music and writing with me. Most of all, she kept telling me I could. I could write. I could go to college in spite of four young children and no money. I could.

  Without Jeannie I couldn’t have, or wouldn’t have known that I could. Jeannie, thanks for being the friend who listened to my writing, and let me listen to your songs and poems—the work we always promised each other would be published “someday.” Thanks for teaching me there really was a someday, and that because of you—it’s here.

  Chapter One

  Esmeralda Salinas leaned forward over the wheel of the rented pickup and peered at the road ahead. It disappeared between two sheer cuts, dotted on both sides with scrub cedar and large rocks that looked likely to fall onto the road at any minute.

  In spite of the cold air blasting out of the air conditioning vents, blowing loose tendrils of hair around her forehead, beads of sweat trickled down her cheeks.

  “And I thought I could drive anywhere!” she muttered and glanced momentarily into the rearview mirror, checking the horse trailer behind her, carrying all she had of her past. She couldn’t see her Appaloosa mare, Domatrix, of course, but the late-model trailer seemed to be riding well and taking the curves.

  She glanced at her dash and gulped air. Three, maybe four minutes more of the treacherous Hill Country back road and she’d come out on the state blacktop taking her into tiny Truth, Texas. Taking her home—if you could call a town you’d never been in, home.

  Her tension eased when she turned gently onto the asphalt. She could have gone a longer way around and spared herself a lot of stress and worry for the mare’s safety, but she had been in the Hill Country years ago and hadn’t thought the “hills” were particularly frightening. A bo
yfriend had been driving then, and she couldn’t say she remembered the narrow roads, the twists, or much of anything.

  With relief she reached out and turned on the radio, immediately picking up a country station out of San Antonio. The station reached most of central Texas and had been her favorite back in Rose Creek.

  She knew the song immediately and joined in, reveling in the music. A car on the other side of the two-lane road passed and the driver waved. She waved back, something she’d done routinely since she got off the interstate. Seemed all the drivers were friendly, even more than they’d been in Rose Creek. Maybe she could truly find a home here.

  The next song blasted out, a song that had been huge for the singer Cody Benton. “Afraid for You” had rocketed up the charts to number one, and Cody was tagged as country music’s next goddess. But she’d died in a drug-induced stupor, right here in Truth. Esme slowed as she coasted over a hill and passed the sign welcoming her to town. Goose bumps peppered her arms as she noticed the large billboard “In Memory of Cody Benton,” and her anger pricked. She didn’t remember Cody being born here or living here for much of her short life. Couldn’t the town find a more tasteful salute to the woman than claiming her memory?

  Still, Cody had brought Esme here in a way, so maybe she shouldn’t be so judgmental. She bit her lip. She’d planned on leaving Rose Creek for some time, planned on going somewhere bigger, with women who didn’t know and fear her, and men who didn’t look at her with way too much interest. She’d made some poor personal choices over the years and just knew it was time to go. She’d been surprised and touched that her formal rival, Luz Wilkinson—Luz Estes now, she reminded herself, glad that it didn’t hurt at all—held a small party the night before she left. Even the town veterinarian came, a clear sign of forgiveness for her trying to snag the doctor’s husband for her own.

  She’d chosen to come here to Truth because she’d heard her aunt was here now, and because of a late-night interview she’d seen with Cody Benton shortly before the singer’s death. Cody had been vamping with the host, who’d asked her why she was spending so much time in a “one-horse town.”