Jess was right. He wasn’t fooled with carrots or apples, and proved difficult to lure from the pasture. Speaking candidly, when faced with the chore of entertaining over a dozen raucous preteens by toting them around on my back, I would’ve run away too. No joke. Eventually we cornered him in the pasture, where Jess effectively snared him with a lead line and walked him back to the stable. We worked quietly together, grooming him for the big event.
“Carter does like you,” Jess said offhandedly as she rested a saddle on Freckles back. It was the tiniest thing I’d ever seen, made of black engraved leather with a red stitched seat. It was trimmed in silver along the pommel and stirrups. “Don’t be misled by his temerity. He’s not that bad.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Really. He thinks you have true talent. That’s something coming from Carter. He’s not easily impressed.”
Coming from Carter Strickland, the musician, I felt honored to receive such a compliment. It’s a shame he wasn’t more personable.
“He might come across as rude,” she pressed, as if reading my thoughts. “But he was right when he said you were being modest. You’ve got a great voice.”
“You’ve seen me sing?”
“Not in person, but I’ve seen the video.”
“What video?"
“Carter recorded a clip from your performance last night and uploaded it to Facebook. It got about eighty thousand likes already, and it’s probably rising as we speak.”
“Excuse me,” I croaked hoarsely. Dropping the brush on the way out the door, my legs felt wobbly beneath me. I trooped numbly across the lawn to find my son.
I was pretty sure that the temperature spiked, because a sweat suddenly broke out across my forehead. Things just kept getting worse. I should’ve called him a cab this morning, sent him on his way. Actually, I shouldn’t have brought him home in the first place. This whole thing was an egregious mistake. I broke so many rules in the past twenty-four hours it wasn’t funny. Worst yet, taking the stage when I knew Hautboy was in the audience.
What the fuck was I thinking?
Tate, Jake, Shane, and Richard stood around Carter, looking fixedly at the phone in his hand. I stole it from under their noses without a doubt of what they were watching. I stared at the screen in a mixture of mute fascination and horror. It was most definitely me.
No mistaking it.
Below, the caption was equally formidable.
Tate’s latest Strawberry Girl, Cooper Hale. If you haven’t seen her yet, better do it now, because it won’t be much longer till you’re paying the full ticket price. You can find her at The Loft every Friday and Saturday night. Seriously, people, some amazing talent here.
My palms were sweating. I handed Carter his phone back, dragged my hands down the hips of my pants. He stared up at me, his expression devoid of all condescension.
“Coop, I had no idea, man.”
“It’s ok,” I said. “It was my fault. I never should’ve gotten on that stage last night. I knew you guys were in the audience.”
It was one thing to sing at The Loft. While it was an upscale place, it wasn’t exactly the scene for breakout artists. It was a trendy bar off the beaten path, far enough from the urban population that I would never accidentally bump into Grant, or worry about being discovered by some random talent scout. I sang on stage for a handful of locals looking for a night out.
It was another thing to sing in front of Hautboy. They had thirty million followers for Christ’s sake. There was quite a difference in the size of their virtual reach and some Joe Schmo from Podunk. With the rate shit spread on the internet, I might as well have placed a target on my forehead. It wouldn’t be long before Grant saw it. Yes, I’d fucked up, royally.
Rooting through my bag, I checked my phone. The ringer shrilled in my hand, sending me into cardiac arrest. I fumbled. My phone slipped from my fingers and fell back into my bag, vibrating manically. Pressing a hand to my chest, I tried to keep my heart from pounding through my ribcage and picked my phone back up. My mother’s face popped up on the screen.
Exhaling, I swiped my finger across the screen and texted her back. I couldn’t talk to her right now. I’d have to call her later when I got back to my place. My thoughts were racing in a million different directions, and my only focus was getting Levy somewhere safe. Only, I wasn’t sure where that was anymore. The anonymity I had worked so hard for was compromised.
“Coop.” Tate started to crouch beside me, but straightened as I rose and swung my bag over my shoulder.
“I have to go.”
“Hey.” His hand came down on my shoulder, encompassing it with his long fingers as I tried to step around him. “Look around. He’s not going to hurt you here.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t stay here forever.” For a long ten seconds we played a contest of dodge and evade. Tate was winning.
“Give me five minutes to grab a change of clothes.”
“No.”
“No, I can’t get my clothes, or no you don’t want me to come with you?”
“No, I’m not taking you.” Whether I wanted him to come was irrelevant. I had a psycho ex boyfriend to evade. I didn’t have time to play tiddly winks.
“I’m not letting you run off alone like this.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re white as a sheet.”
“I’m not your responsibility, Tate. Now get out of my way.”
“You want to leave, fine, but I’m coming with you.”
“No—”
“Coop.”
“I have—”
“Coop.”
“—stuff I nee—”
“Cooper.”
“Fine!” I snapped, and ranted a sting of angry oaths under my breath. Dropping my head, I went through the motions. I pinched the bridge of my nose, dragged a hand through my hair, swore some more, all the things that we do to relieve stress, but never really worked.
“Give me five minutes to get my things.” I skewered him with a hostile glare that told him I would be long gone in five minutes. Undaunted, Tate turned to Carter and his friends. “Don’t let her leave without me. I mean it.”
Carter nodded in answer. “She isn’t going anywhere.”
The hell I wasn’t. I waited until Tate was half way across the yard before I turned to gather Levy from the ball pit.
“He’s not in there. Jess took him for a pony ride.”
Gritting my teeth, I scanned the yard for Levy. I found him perched atop Freckles back, an acre away and still retreating. Successfully routed, I collapsed onto the lawn chair across from Carter, and dropped my bag beside me. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of my neck. Yet, my face felt cold and clammy. The half of the Slim Jim I ate threatened to reappear.
Shane pushed a glass across the table. Reconsidering, he pulled a flask from his back pocket and added a large swig to the iced tea then nudged it again in my direction.
“A little liquid courage. You look like you could use it.”
Because I needed it gravely, I lifted the glass and took a long drink.
“He won’t get custody of your boy,” Richard told me in a tone that he’d meant to be reassuring. I wasn’t in any way reassured. Grant didn’t give two shits about the law.
“Not legally.” I downed the rest of the glass, feeling the warmth spread through my veins. Liquid courage. That it most definitely was. My hands grew a shade steadier.
Richard cocked a brow. “Are you even drinking age?”
“I have my own apartment. Have for two years. I work two jobs. I have a two-year-old son that I raise alone. And yes, I’m twenty-one. I know the hardships of life. I’m entitled to a drink when I need one.”
“You’re entitled to a lot of things. Living without fear is one of them.”
Sitting back in my chair, I crossed my arms over my chest, watching the other guests laughing and smiling, not a care in the world. I wondered what it would be like to live s
o freely, unburdened with Grant’s threats. “Unfortunately, I don’t have that luxury.”
“Tell me a little about your ex. His name, particularly.”
“Why are you asking?”
“Tate asked me to look into him.”
“I have a lawyer.”
“It’s free of charge. Tate’s a friend. And friends help friends.”
“Thanks for the offer, but you really don’t need to involve yourself. Like I said, I have a lawyer. I’ve done everything that can be done.” The rest was up to me. Now if they’d just leave me go on my merry little way, I could make the calls I needed to make and start searching for a new residence. The sooner the better.
“You can’t run your whole life, honey.”
“I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep my son away from his father.”
“What about Tate?” Carter inquired, as if the brief fling Tate and I had might somehow factor him into my life. Despite Tate’s umbrage over my situation, it wasn’t any of his concern.
“What about Tate?” I countered. “You’re on tour. You’ll all be gone in a few weeks. He’ll move onto the next strawberry girl.”
Slowly, a dubious smile spread across Carter’s face. “You know what I think?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.”
Leaning forward, Carter placed his elbows on the table. “I think you brought our boy Tate home for a road gig, and then you shared your little story to scare him off when you realized he was serious about you.”
“You’re right,” I said, rising from my chair. “I did. I took him home for a night of mutual sex, and then I cut him loose because I didn’t want to burden him with my problems.” Turning to Richard, I proffered my hand. “His name’s Grant Hayes. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding his name once you obtain the records, which I know you’ll do despite my protests. You’ll find the restraining order along with a number of accounts where he’s defied it. The last time I heard from him was ten months ago, which was the last time I moved. He sent me several texts containing images of my apartment, pointing out all the ways he could break inside if he wanted. Trust me, they were subtle compared to some of the gifts he left on my doorstep. Share them with Carter if you like. I’m sure he’ll find them entertaining.”
That said, I walked. I thanked Jess stiffly for her hospitality, plucked Levy from the pony and headed for my car. Carter followed, closing the distance between us as I reached the door.
“Cooper.”
Ignoring him, I tucked Levy in his seat and began buckling his harness.
“Hey, what I said, I didn’t mean it that way. I wasn’t finished. You took it out of context.”
“You sure you don’t have bipolar disorder?” Though he was doing a poor job of it, he sounded like he was trying to apologize again. Jess was right. The guy was an emotional enigma. “I really can’t keep up with your mood changes.”
“Can you give me a minute to explain? Jesus. Tate’s gonna kick my ass if I let you ru—” Doing the wrong thing, Carter grabbed my arm. His fingertips dimpled my skin and something in me snapped. Something instinctual and defensive that lay dormant inside me, two years of aggrandized fear that emerged at the wrong moment. His breath left in a whoosh as my knee connected with his groin. It was a knee-jerk reaction, no pun intended.
Bending at the waist, Carter fell against the neighboring car, cupping his balls. I stared in shock for a split second, surprised with my response.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and yanking the door open, I dropped into the driver’s seat. I barely took the time to adjust the seat before I threw the car into drive and pulled away. A small pang of guilt settled over my chest as I coasted down the driveway and spotted Tate in the rearview mirror staring back at me, but I quickly bottled it away. He’d recover faster than I would.
Chapter 6
“My God, look at you,” said Em, watching the video, eyes glittering with admiration. “I think my eyes are actually tearing up.”
“I think you’re missing the point, Em.” She wasn’t listening to me, or rather she was, but just in total disagreement. “This is bad. Really bad.”
“What’re you talking about? This is great. A lot of people sound like trash live, but you actually sound good. You’re an effing star. Why haven’t I ever come to one of your shows?”
“I’m going to have to move.”
“Bunkum, you’re not going anywhere.”
I snorted at her chosen term of scorn. “Can you please not say that? It just sounds all sorts of wrong.” I almost preferred she just say bullshit in front of Levy.
“You’re the pervert.”
Popping a fresh DVD into the player, I pushed play and sat Levy in front of the television, then began collecting the crayons he dropped on the floor. Em pushed the laptop closed and turned in her seat. I could tell by her expression that I wasn’t going to win this argument.
“You can’t run forever, Cooper. You’d be stubborn to deny what a blessing this is. Run with it. Bet the ranch. Make some real money. You’ll be rich enough to hire a team of bodyguards, and a house with a big metal gate. You’ll never have to be afraid again.”
“Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” A wriggle of my nose and all my problems would go away. “I wish life was that simple.”
“It’s what you make of it. And I promise you this—you will regret it for the rest of your life if you let this pass you by. You’ll never get an opportunity like this again. This, right now,” she pointed to the floor as if it held some palpable line, “is your second chance. Most of us don’t even get a first. So don’t waste it.”
I perched on the windowsill, stared out the window, watching the limbs of the white oak sway in the breeze. The small wooden birdhouse bobbed on its branch, innocently deceiving.
Normal people had picnics in their backyard; I had thirty-five caliber birdhouses.
“Just because Carter posted that video doesn’t mean that an agent will see it, and if they do, there’s no guarantee I’ll even get an offer, let alone a contract. I could be a washout.”
“Petty fears, wouldn’t you say? I’m not telling you to quit your day job. All I’m saying is give it a chance. See what happens.”
“I can’t place Levy in danger on a misguided whim.”
“Misguided?” Em snorted. “When have I ever steered you wrong?”
“Yesterday when you told me to sleep with Tate Watkins.” I gave her the stink eye, silently admonishing her for her foolhardy advice.
“I repeat, when have I ever steered you wrong?” Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Em squealed as she grabbed my shoulders as if she could shake some sense into me. “Tate Watkins! Ha! I knew it! How was it? Tell me everything. I mean it. Every little detail.”
Fighting my own smile, I gave an apathetic shrug. “Meh.”
“Liar liar pants on fire. I could hear through the walls as if they were made of paper, and you didn’t sound a bit disappointed.”
“You could not,” I choked, mortified.
“Could too. He’s not so quiet either. I love the way he swears right before he comes. Though, you might want to break him of that.” She inclined her head pointedly in Levy’s direction.
“Oh god.” She could hear.
“Yep, that’s what you said last night.” Dropping onto the sofa, Em laid on her back, draping her legs over the upholstered arm. Her lacquered red toes curled in delight. “Tell me everything, every orgasmic little detail. Remember, I’m living through you.”
“Bullshit!”
A few feet away, Levy gasped. “Das a bad wood!”
“Sorry, Lev.” I cut an accusing glare at Em. “Don’t even try and tell me there’s nothing going on between you and M—Garrison. I saw him climbing the stairs to your apartment last night when I was leaving.”
“There’s not.” Em kept such a stolid expression, I couldn’t doubt her. Almost. “He has no interest in me.”
“What makes you so sure?”
She gave an indeterminate shrug and deflected the subject back at me. “Enough about me. I want to hear about you and Tate.”
“According to you, you heard everything already.”
“Don’t make me pry it out of you. What’s he like?”
“Fun. Spontaneous. Carefree.”
“He scares you.”
“Like hell.”
Smiling widely, Em looked satisfied. “Good. That means you like him.”
“Too much.” Staring out the window, I sighed in lament. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Em. It’s overwhelming. There’s too much to think about, too much at stake. Sleeping with him was supposed to be uncomplicated. This is anything but.”
I didn’t want to enter a relationship with Tate and learn to depend on him only to have him walk away in the end. I had Levy to think about. Could I put him in danger for an extended fling, or allow him to form an attachment only to be equally devastated when Tate disappeared from his life? Then there was the possibility that everything might work out, that this wasn’t just a fling. He still had a tour to complete. When would I see him again? And what if something did come out of Carter’s video? My God, what if I did get a contract? How would we juggle a relationship when we were both on the road? Worse yet, how would I protect Levy from the media, and ultimately Grant? Whether successful or not, dating Tate or not, staying instead of running would have huge ramifications. I supposed I should’ve thought about all this beforehand, but hindsight was always clearer than foresight.
“Take one thing at a time, Cooper. You’re overthinking this.”
I don’t know. Maybe Em was right. Maybe my worrying was moot. “I don’t know if he even wants to see me again,” I said, surprised with how much the notion bothered me. “The way I left back there…maybe he took the hint I didn’t want him around.”
“He came poking around once; he’ll come poking around again,” Em assured. “And when he does, you’ll plead temporary insanity due to stress. You’ve got the story to corroborate it.”
“He’d be smarter if he didn’t.”
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