by Caisey Quinn
She took the folder and opened it, relief washing over her when she recognized her signature.
“I knew you wouldn’t read them, hothead that you are. After you signed them and Pauly gave them to me, I had to admit to myself how low it was for me to have lost it on you for lying and then turned around and tricked you into signing something saying you’d record with me. It was shitty, I know, but I just couldn’t forget the way it felt that night. With you. Here. Writing and knowing how great we could be together.” He cleared his throat. They’d done a lot more than just writing. “I’ve never been a relationship kind of man. But being with you here made me want to try.” Trace huffed out a huge breath as if he’d been carrying the burden of those words for far too long.
There was so much unfiltered honesty in his words that she was high on it. So much so that it made her lightheaded. “Wait, these say that I’ll record the song with you? Pauly said—”
“Pauly lied…for me. He works for me, remember?”
So that was why he’d run out of the diner like his ass was on fire. Kylie couldn’t help but grin. “You know, now that I think about it, he’s not that great of a liar. He tried his damnedest to get me to read these.”
“Not everyone can be as good at it as you and me.” Trace laughed but it was empty laughter. She wondered if it was because he thought this was all she came for.
“The morning of my birthday, you left before…” she took a deep breath, hoping she’d suck in some of his courage along with it.
“Before?” Trace prompted, lowering himself back onto the couch across from her.
“Before I could tell you that I care about you, too.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Trace went completely still. For a full minute he stared long and hard at her. Kylie sat up straight and braced herself for whatever was coming.
“I’m seeing someone,” he said quietly.
Her shoulders sagged and she fought with everything she had to keep the corners of her mouth from turning down. Why did she have to be so damn stupid? Mia Montgomery. He was seeing her now. His declaration stole the air from her lungs so she inhaled deeply before speaking.
“Okay,” Kylie said swallowing and nodding. This was it. She’d given it everything she had. And it was just over. Men like Trace didn’t sit around and wait for girls like her to figure out what they wanted. She stifled a shiver as reality crashed cold and hard all over her. “Well, I’m happy for you,” she choked out. The walls closed in and she just wanted to get the hell out of there. Her mind began plotting the best escape route. Hold on a damn minute, hothead, she scolded herself. “We can still record the song, right? As friends?”
“About my drinking,” Trace added slowly. “I don’t want to be my father, so I’ve been talking to an addiction specialist that’s a friend of Pauly’s. And you were right. Claire Ann, Rae, and you, Kylie—you all deserve better.”
She waited for the punch line but he didn’t say anything else. “So you are or you aren’t dating Mia Montgomery?” she asked, side-eying him with a glare.
“No, I’m not dating anyone. But see how it feels to be lied to and toyed with?” he laughed. And the fist gripping Kylie’s heart finally let go. So she chucked a square throw pillow at his head.
“You are not a nice boy,” she said pointing a finger at him.
“Never said I was,” he told her as he leaned in dangerously close. Kylie breathed in the clean familiar scent of cologne and Trace.
“No more lies,” she mumbled against his lips as they brushed hers.
“Uh huh,” Trace murmured against hers before leaning back, denying her the kiss she wanted more than air. “So you’re telling me Claire Ann really thinks someone broke in here?”
“No. She knows someone did…because I told her I was going to.” Kylie laughed and pulled him back to her. “Wait, I’m doing it again. Feeling first and thinking second. There’s no time for kissing! We have a song to record because, if Chaz can forgive me and the Vitamin Water people agree, I’m leaving for my tour Friday morning.”
“I feel so cheap and used.” He laughed again, his real laugh, the deep throaty one that sent chills racing up her spine and filled her with warmth all at once. It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. It filled her with the same intoxicating mixture of contentment and excitement that hearing her dad play guitar always had.
“Good, I plan to use you up every chance I get,” she teased just before placing a lingering kiss firmly on his lips.
“This is really what you want then? To be with a burned out has-been even though you’re going on tour and about to become a huge star?” His hands slid up the sides of her shirt as he pulled her into his lap.
“More than anything,” she told him, resting her forehead on his. And it was the truth.
“Good, because I wasn’t going to let you leave this room if you said no, and there is always time for kissing.” He twisted a hand into her hair and claimed her mouth with the deepest kiss of her life. When his warm, wet tongue lashed against hers, Kylie whimpered and bit down gently on his bottom lip.
Trace pulled back from their kiss again just as she was losing herself in it completely. “Wait, now we need to talk about something really important.”
“What?” She groaned, praying this wasn’t going to be something that ruined the euphoric high about to carry her away.
“About those sexy shirt-earning mechanical bull riding skills of yours…”
“Down, boy,” Kylie told him, brushing her nose playfully against his and kissing him once more as her heart swelled with happiness. “We have a song to record.”
Turn the page for a sneak peek of the sequel, Girl on Tour
I could write a whole other book about everyone I have to thank for making this one possible. I’ll try to keep it brief. Warning: I suck at brief.
First and foremost, thank you God for the gift of words, for blessing me with a passion for reading and writing, and for the wonderful people who allow me to do both.
Thank you to my husband and daughter for putting up with me when I was living mostly in a world of fictional characters. For understanding, and for loving and supporting me always. Mama, thanks so much for all the voluntary babysitting so that I could write. And for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself. Thank you to my daddy in Heaven, for encouraging me to always finish what I start. I know you’re watching over me. I hope you’re proud.
My brother is the musical one in the family, bless his heart for helping his tone deaf sister with lyrics and explaining the mechanics of song writing. My in-laws are some pretty wonderful people who invested in me as an author and bought me my very first MacBook. Love y’all so much!
Thank you to Amber and Kevin Adams for not only answering my questions about Nashville and music, but for keeping my kiddo so I could write. Your friendship means more to me than you know.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you Emily Mah Tippetts. There aren’t even words. Without you, there would be no book. Only a sad little word document saved on my computer with nowhere to go. Thank you for reading that hot mess of a first draft and taking a chance on some chick in Alabama. If I live to be one hundred, I’ll never be able to repay you for the endless support and willingness to answer my every obsessive question. For letting me vent in emails that probably have a higher word count than this book. For working tirelessly on the cover design and embracing my brand of crazy. For reading my mind. For giving Kylie and Trace the ending they deserved. Thank you. A million times. Thank you. If I ever doubt God’s love for me, I remember that He led me to you!
Much love, appreciation, and big “schmoopy” hugs to Diane Alberts, my other wonderful CP, who took the time to read Trace and Kylie’s story and remind me that dialogue tags are our friends, even though she was right in the middle of moving. I’m also very fortunate that Mickey Reed offered to take me on at the last minute when I was in panic mode. You’re a lifesaver and you’re stuck with me now!
&nbs
p; Even though they don’t know it, I owe a huge thanks to some special people in Nashville. Thank you Blake Shelton and Miranda Lambert for being such an amazing example of what it means to be in love. Your story is the foundation on which this one is built. Thank you Luke Bryan for the wild ride of a concert that inspired the musical stylings of Trace Corbin. And for wearing such tight jeans. I basically stalked Jana Kramer at the start of her career, telling myself it was “research” for the progression of Kylie’s. (If this book were a movie though, Jana would be Mia.) Thank you, Jana, for not pressing charges.
Lots of love and eternal gratitude to my number one fan, Tessa, who some of you know as @bookswinefood. Thank you for reading that first advance copy and for your enthusiasm as you bullied others into reading it! You’re my soul sister!
Big crazy obnoxious shout out to my #countrygirls and #guttergirls on Twitter. Y’all are something else and I heart you crazy chicks more than you’ll ever know!
And lastly and most importantly, thank you to my readers. This book is my heart in words. Thank you for the support, the Follows on Twitter, Likes on Facebook, your comments, reviews, and love. I love you right back, I really do. I feel like I should pay you to read my books instead of the other way around. Thank you for taking a chance on an unknown author. This is my dream come true and without you it wouldn’t be possible. I hope you loved Trace and Kylie’s story as much as I do and that you’ll join them on the journey that is love on the road.
For those of you who feel first and think second. And for everyone who loved Kylie’s story and wanted it to continue.
THE SOUND of a less than healthy motor cranking up and breaking the sound barrier startled Kylie from the depths of unconsciousness. What in the world?
She blinked a few times, dragged her hands across her eyes, and waited for things to come into focus. When they did, she couldn’t have fought the grin that spread across her face if her life had depended on it.
She stretched as hard and far as she could, groaning when her back reached its limit. The only thing that could’ve made the morning better would be if he were still in bed beside her. But she was pretty sure he was responsible for the God-awful noise that had woken her. Yawning, she padded to the kitchen in nothing but his favorite blue plaid button-up. She could smell coffee and the faintest hint of bacon. Hmm, he was a god in the kitchen and a devil in the bedroom. How did I get so lucky?
That thought repeated itself when she saw the spread on the kitchen table. Plates of biscuits, sausage, bacon, and fruit waited for her, along with a fresh pot of coffee. Hazelnut—her favorite. Her stomach growled at the sight. She snagged a piece of bacon, thankful that he’d made it crispy just like she liked it. They’d been so busy making love last night she’d never eaten dinner. Pinching off a piece of still-warm biscuit, her mouth watered at the buttery fluffy goodness. Day-um the man could cook.
But then she saw something in the window that made her forget all about her stomach. When Trace’s shirtless self jumped down off the tractor he’d undoubtedly been working on, it was her hormones that began growling instead.
She dropped the biscuit as if it was poisonous, and her body began to propel itself forward. Towards the door. Until she remembered she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet. Kylie yanked open the fridge and grabbed the orange juice. She briefly considered swigging it straight from the carton, but no matter how at home she felt here, she didn’t actually live here. So she made quick work of grabbing a glass and pouring herself some. After downing it, she walked as briskly as possible towards the door. But it looked awfully hot outside. And she had every intention of helping Trace work up a sweat if he hadn’t already. So she filled the glass once more and headed out the door. It slammed behind her and she winced, hoping she hadn’t woken Trace’s sisters.
If we didn’t wake them last night, that probably won’t startle anyone. And if the tractor hadn’t already jerked them from unconsciousness like it had her, she figured she was safe.
The concrete driveway was scorching so she skittered across it on her tiptoes. When she reached the grass, the bottoms of her bare feet eased onto the coolness of the damp ground. She slowed as she approached the giant contraption Trace was working on. Mostly because he was bending down to work on it. Now there was a sight she’d never get tired of.
She figured he hadn’t heard her approaching because he uttered a curse as he stood. She watched as he yanked the hat off his head and wiped the sweat from his hairline. His back muscles rippled in a deliberate, satisfying movement that had her heart rate speeding towards a dangerous pace. For a moment she lost her breath. She sipped his juice to wet her mouth so she could speak properly.
“Thirsty?” Kylie called out.
He turned, his hazel eyes bright and clear in the sunlight. “Mornin’, sleepy head,” he greeted her with his slow, intense grin. The one she knew was reserved for her and her alone.
“Never figured you for an early bird,” she said, handing him the orange juice. She watched as he gulped it greedily, the thick knot in his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Overcome by the urge to lick him, his neck, and every other inch of him, she took a step closer. “Sleep well?”
Trace lowered his empty glass and set it on the edge of the tractor seat. “So well it should be a sin,” he drawled. He winked and her insides flashed hot. Who was she kidding? All of her was hot. And not from the intensity of the Georgia morning sun.
“Guess all that wild sex you stayed up having with that trashy blonde from Oklahoma wore you out. Verdict’s in—I’m a harlot.” Now she winked and Trace’s eyes widened.
He arched a brow and took a step in her direction. “Hmm, that could’ve been it. Except I didn’t see any trashy blondes last night. I saw an amazingly beautiful one. And for the record, that wasn’t wild sex.”
She bit her lip. Okay, he knew a hell of a lot more about sex than she did. But still. “It wasn’t?” She fought the urge to pout.
Trace grinned more broadly than she’d ever seen as he gripped her hips and pulled her towards him. “No, ma’am. If you’ve got some time, I’d be happy to show you my definition of wild sex. If you’re interested, that is.”
Kylie’s insides warmed, and she barely resisted the urge to fling herself at him. “Oh, I’m interested.”
“Right this way, darlin’,” he said as he lifted her from the ground and began walking. Towards the barn.
She squealed, startled by being lifted so swiftly from the earth. “Trace! Where are we going?”
“No backin’ out now, Kylie Lou. We’ve gotta head to Nashville in a few hours. The Trace Corbin tutorial on wild sex starts now.”
“What about your sisters? What if they—”
“They went out for brunch this morning. Whatever the hell that is. Guess they thought we might need some privacy.”
“Hmm.” She angled her face so she could lick his neck like she’d wanted to. Salty and sweet and all Trace. She grazed her teeth softly against his flesh before pressing her lips to it. “In that case, maybe I’ll give you a tutorial.”
“Them’s fightin’ words, babe.” Trace swung her around so she was facing him. She wrapped her legs firmly around his bare waist. “Hope you can back ‘ up.”
“Only one way to find out, Mr. Corbin.”
He growled as he pulled her mouth to his. Those soft lips she loved so much danced against hers, slow and sensuous, then firmer as his velvet tongue sank into her mouth. She felt herself let go as she undulated against him, grinding herself against his warm skin as hard as she could.
He walked them forward, still holding her in mid-air as he pressed her up against the interior wall of the barn. We’re about to do it outside. Up against the barn. Surely that’s gotta count as wild sex.
Wild was exactly how she felt. Wild, crazy, and damn near out of her mind with sheer lust and happiness. She ached to show him just how happy he made her. After biting down on his lip until he groaned, she pulled at his neck as if she could pull him any clo
ser. For the first time, she took control. Control of the kissing, control of him. She couldn’t get enough. Nothing will ever be enough with him. The thought had her panicked and frantic with the need to consume him the way he’d always consumed her.
With her heart pounding, she stiffened so he’d have to let her down. The sound of their panting was all she heard as she fought with his belt until it bent to her will. Her fingers worked deftly to unsnap his button fly. She reached inside the black boxer briefs and wrapped her hand around his thick erection. Lust pooled hot and wet between her thighs. She licked her lips and looked up into his dark gaze. It was wide and on fire.
She let his eyes blaze into hers for a few seconds before she gave him a wicked grin and dropped to her knees.
His gasp of breath was audible. “Kylie.” Her name dropped so sweetly from his lips that it emboldened her efforts. She took him in deeper, faster, caressing every inch of him with her tongue as she went. She let her fingernails dig into the firm dips of his hips. His answering groan told her he was enjoying himself. Just as she was finding the rhythm that seemed to elicit the loudest noises from his mouth, strong hands gripped her shoulders firmly, hauling her to her feet.
Lifting her once more, he slammed her roughly into the wall behind them and clamped his mouth down hard on hers. She whimpered, not at the pain, at the force of the pleasure tearing through her. The heady surge of control had awoken something inside of her she’d never experienced before. For the first time, she knew they were equally matched in this area after all. Both of them mindless with need and unaccustomed to giving up control.
“Hold on tight, baby,” he rasped in her ear as he let go. She clung to him for dear life, still kissing and licking and sucking at his mouth and neck as he walked them over to a stack of baled straw. In one swift movement he pulled a navy blue blanket from where it sat and tossed it over the straw. She felt his jerky movements beneath her as he worked to get out of his pants and underwear while she was still attached. She grinned against his shoulder.