by Meghan March
Damn. Score one for incredibly perceptive Holly Wix.
“How did you know?”
“Because I’ve got a fierce streak of pride, just like you. So what if my daddy disappeared and my mama was a deadbeat who left me on my gran’s front porch and forgot to come home for years at a time? I didn’t want to feel like I was worth any less than my billionaire husband, and I found my self-worth on the stages where I performed until he and I sorted our life out.”
Her nonchalant recitation of her family history knocks something loose in me. That’s the only explanation I have for what comes next.
“My mama was killed in the bathroom of my family’s bar with the man she was cheating with. Pop was already broken, but that day he shattered. He fell into the bottom of a bottle and never found his way out. He had no problem dumping as much stuff on me as he could, but when it came down to it, there was no way I could resurrect the Fishbowl from that with no resources. I tried. I really did, but I failed.”
“Oh, honey. You don’t own that failure. You were set up for it, but the amazing part is that you kept that bar running for almost ten years by yourself.”
My gaze cuts to her. “You know all this already?”
She nods carefully. “I told you my husband could’ve worked for the CIA. I probably know more about you than Boone does. But I promise, none of that information leaves this room.”
With all this talk about the past, I’m feeling a little lost, and Holly must see that as well.
“If you don’t want to make a decision today, you don’t have to. But in the interest of full disclosure, I’m going to tell you that the sooner you decide, the better. The hits will start to slow and interest will drop off. We want to harness the current interest and make a big splashy announcement that we’ve signed you, and you’ve got a single coming down the pipe really soon.”
Movement comes from the nursery, and our attention shifts as we watch the nanny lift the pink bundle into her arms and walk with her around the room.
“If I hadn’t stepped on that stage for Country Dreams, I wouldn’t be living the life I have right now,” Holly says, not looking at me but through the glass wall. “Sometimes, taking a terrifying risk leads to the most unimaginable happiness.”
The reverence in her tone as she stares at her baby girl hits me deep inside.
I want this. Not Holly Wix’s life, but a chance at happiness beyond what I could imagine.
I take a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”
35
Ripley
I push open the glass door of Homegrown Records with a thick silver envelope in my hand containing the contract Holly had already drawn up. I didn’t sign anything yet, because even I know better than that. I need a good lawyer now, but there’s no way in hell I’m calling Law.
I reach out to press the call button on the elevator, but the doors slide open before I make contact.
And out steps Amber Fleet.
Are you freaking kidding me right now?
She knocks into my shoulder as she strides past, and I’m too stunned to jump in the open elevator before the doors shut again.
I press the call button and turn to peer through the glass doors leading into Homegrown Records as I wait. Amber’s high-pitched voice grows louder and louder with each word until it’s impossible to miss.
“I want to see Holly Wix. She won’t answer my calls or emails, but I need to talk to her.”
Like the eavesdropper I apparently am, I take a step toward the glass doors so I can hear Etta’s response.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Fleet. Ms. Wix’s calendar is full today. I can possibly get you in next month when she’s officially back full-time from maternity leave.”
“Dammit, I know she’s working before that.” Amber rushes for the door that leads to the inner offices and grabs the handle, but it doesn’t budge.
“Ms. Fleet, please understand that Ms. Wix is very busy, but I’m happy to make you an appointment for a later date.”
“I need an appointment now.”
“That’s just not possible, ma’am.”
“Well, you can tell Holly she’s gonna regret blowing me off like this. Just wait and see.” Amber spins around, and I dash back to the elevator and press the button seven times, hoping to get the hell out of here fast.
But no such luck for me today in that arena. Apparently, my luck was used up getting the career opportunity of the century.
I keep my head down, hoping Amber won’t recognize me. Her heels clack against the wood, and she punches the already lit elevator button like it’s somehow going to make it come faster. She releases an annoyed huff and crosses her arms, tapping her foot and mumbling something I can’t make out.
She must finally look at me because the tapping stops, and I can’t help but glance at her face. Her gaze is fixed on the envelope in my hands.
“She met with you, didn’t she? That little bitch.”
“Excuse me?” It’s not until I speak that Amber’s gaze lands on my face, and when it does, her features contort into an ugly mask.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. She met with you.” Her words aren’t so different from the thoughts I had earlier, but at least mine were missing the thick layer of malice. “She did not just sign you. No fucking way. I don’t believe it.”
I’m not about to give her any kind of affirmative response, so I decide to go with a benign, “Excuse me?” When the elevator doors open, I step toward them, hoping Amber is too pissed and stays behind. She doesn’t.
“If this is some kind of ploy to try to keep Boone, you’re going in the wrong direction. He can’t handle a woman whose career is more successful than his. He’ll scrape you off as soon as he finds out you were even here. I knew I was gonna get him back, but this just seals the deal.”
“Excuse me?” I repeat, this time not playing dumb, but seriously confused by what she’s saying.
“Do you need me to break it down into smaller words for you? You and that dumb redneck, I swear.”
And I’ve officially heard all I need to hear. I hold up my hand.
“First, shut your face. If you want to talk shit about Boone, you’re not gonna do it around me. I’ve thrown men three times your size out of my bar, and I guarantee I’ll have no problem kicking your skinny little ass. Second, Boone didn’t want you because you’re a cheating whore on top of being a self-righteous bitch. So, chew on that, Amber. If you ever think you’re getting him back, you’re sadly mistaken. He’s too damn smart to fall for your game again, and you’d have to do it over my dead body.”
Her mouth drops open, making me wonder if this is the first time someone has given her an ass-ripping using her own brand of meanness.
“You don’t know shit about shit, girl. You won’t make it in this business. You’re a joke.”
“I’m not the one who cheated on my boyfriend and married another guy in Vegas. That was all you, Amber. By the way, thank you for fucking it up so royally that he fell in love with me.”
The elevator doors open and I step out, but she’s right on my heels.
“He doesn’t love you! He still loves me. I know it.”
“Is that why he left the engagement ring he was going to use to propose to you as a tip at the bar the night he found out what you did?”
Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head.
“What?” Her screech fills the lobby of the building.
“You lost the best thing that ever happened to you, but you better believe I’m a hell of a lot smarter. All you had to do was treat him right, and Boone would have been yours. Now he’s mine, and I’m not giving him up.”
I spin on my heel and make the exit of a lifetime, set to the sound of Amber Fleet’s meltdown.
When I step out onto the sidewalk, the truth about what I said hits me.
I’m not giving him up . . . because I’m in love with him.
36
Boone
I come home to an empty house around one
o’clock. My radio interview ran over because I got sucked into telling them about the album I’m writing and how I’ve never had song lyrics rolling through my brain nonstop like this. There were a lot of questions about the tone of the album, but I deflected and told them they’d have to wait and see.
The note I left Ripley this morning on my pillow has been moved to the counter, and under what I wrote, she added a response.
* * *
Going to meet with Holly at 11 a.m.
* * *
My lips stretch with a smile.
That’s my girl.
I’m lifting a piece of fried chicken out of the bucket when the door from the garage opens and shuts. I wait for Anthony to call out that he came inside to get some lunch, but instead Ripley blows into the house like a tornado.
“I don’t care what that bitch says, you’re never going to be dumb enough or desperate enough to get back together with her. Over my dead body.” Ripley slaps a silver envelope onto the kitchen island with a decisive smack. “She can scream and cry and rant all she wants, but you see right through her now, don’t you?”
Ripley’s chest is heaving, and when she puts her hands on her hips, I recognize a woman on the warpath. I choose my words wisely.
“Sugar, what are you talking about?”
“Amber! She showed up at Homegrown after my appointment, screeching at the receptionist about wanting to meet with Holly, and then she turns her venom in my direction. I told her she was barking up the wrong tree if she thinks she’s ever getting back with you because . . . You. Are. Mine.” She punctuates each of her last three words with a slap of her hand on the island. “So I’m sorry if I overstepped, but I had to put it in terms she’d understand.”
I drop the chicken into the bucket and come toward her. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, that’s right. There was more, but I’m not wasting another minute thinking about that woman.”
I crowd Ripley against the counter and meet her thunderous gray gaze. “I agree. I’d rather talk about your meeting with Holly.”
“Before we get to that, you need to tell me what the hell you did with my car.”
I lean in because her lips are dying to be kissed. I nip at the bottom one. “I stole it.”
Ripley’s hands flatten against my chest. “We already covered that fact.”
“That’s all I’m telling you for now. Drive the BMW until I tell you otherwise.”
With a shove, she pushes me a step back. “You know Holly and I talked about what it’s like to be with a guy who thinks he can do whatever he damn well pleases.”
I use the distance she put between us to grab her hips and lift her onto the island. “Oh yeah? What else?” I tug at her lip again with my teeth, and Ripley’s fingertips dig into my shoulders as she presses against me.
“You’re distracting me.”
“Welcome to my world, sugar. You distract me just by breathing. And now you’re all riled up, the only thing I can think about is feeling that fire beneath me.”
Her voice comes out in pants. “I’m strangely okay with that right about now.”
“Then wrap your legs around me, because we’re moving this conversation to bed.”
“Do we have to?”
I meet her eyes. “The first time I fuck that tight little ass of yours isn’t going to be on the kitchen counter. We can save that for the second time.”
37
Ripley
Apparently, it’s going to be a day of firsts.
My insides go liquid at Boone’s words, but my legs wrap around his hips.
I’ve been thinking about this more than I care to admit since he initially brought it up, and today, of all days, is the one I would have picked too.
Today I conquered my fears and seized my chance at an amazing future, a future I desperately want to include this man—and not just because of how incredible he makes me feel in bed. The dirty, sexy side is a definite bonus, though.
When we get to the bedroom, Boone takes his time stripping me down to just my bra before reaching for his own shirt.
“No. Let me.”
I rise off the bed and peel his T-shirt over his head before dropping to my knees in front of him to work his belt. Boone must read it in my expression, because he starts to protest when I wrap my hand around his cock.
“Sugar, I told you—”
“Stop. I want to give this to you.”
Boone threads his hands into my hair. “What the hell did I do to deserve you?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same thing. I decided that we both got lucky.”
“This isn’t luck. This is hitting the jackpot of life.”
I wink. “Just wait until I do this, then.” I wrap my lips around his cock and suck him into my mouth.
Boone’s fingers tighten on my hair, and I love the slight tug of pressure. Sucking deep, I feel tears gather at the corners of my eyes as the head of his cock hits the back of my throat. His groan fills the room.
“Goddamn, sugar.”
Taking that as his stamp of approval, I keep going, feeling the answering pulse of heat between my own legs.
I want him. Want this.
And for the first time in my life, I’m going to have it all.
I continue working Boone’s cock with my lips, tongue, and hands until he pulls free.
“You keep sucking me so good, I’ll be coming down your throat instead of where I planned.” His gaze is heavy on mine. “You trying to distract me? You change your mind?”
I shake my head. “No. I was just setting out to prove I’m no quitter.”
The smile that spreads over Boone’s face is everything.
“Sugar, I could’ve told you that from day one. And guess what? I’m not either. You and I are in this together. Every step of the way.”
He pulls me up to my feet and takes my lips, making even more silent promises. When we break apart, Boone spins me around and presses a hand to my shoulders. I bend over the bed, my ass in the air.
“Sweet Jesus, woman. Your curves never quit.” He lands a heavy hand on my right ass cheek with a smack.
Heat shimmers in the shape of a handprint on my skin. Oh God. This is going to be intense.
But today, right now, none of the boundaries that I’d put around my life and my dreams matter. Today, there’s nothing stopping me from reaching higher and taking more. Life won’t smack me down this time.
Boone drops to his knees between my legs, spreading them wider with his broad shoulders.
“What are you—”
“Hush. I’m gonna play.”
And that’s exactly what he does. Boone’s tongue darts out as he licks me from behind, setting my nerve endings on red alert. I press up on my toes, not trying to escape but to give him more room.
“So fucking sweet. I need more.”
Boone rises to his feet and flips me over on my back after unhooking my bra and leaving me completely naked. Before I can catch my breath, he’s on his knees, his head between my thighs, sucking my clit between his lips and sending me over the edge.
All my inhibitions are swept away by the second orgasm that slams into me after he plunges two fingers inside, teasing my G-spot until I scream.
“Soaked, sugar. Fucking soaked.”
My eyes flutter open to see Boone licking his fingers clean.
Oh. My. God. I’ll never get used to that.
After he fists his cock, he thrusts inside me, fucking my pussy with long, hard strokes.
“You’re too damn tempting. I had to,” he says on ragged breaths.
“But—”
“Don’t worry. We’re getting there.” Boone winks and lifts my hips higher, hitting exactly the right spot.
While I’m coming apart, he pulls free, yanks open the door to the nightstand, and pulls out the lube.
I start to roll to my stomach, but Boone stops me. “I want to see your face when we do this.”
“How?” This goes to show just ho
w much I don’t know.
“Bring your knees up.”
It sounds obscene, but I do it anyway. When Boone’s blue eyes turn flame-hot, I know the indecent position is perfect.
No one has ever looked at me like he does. No one has ever treated me like I mattered. No one has ever put me first.
He’s it. He’s the one.
The knowledge sweeps through me, coinciding with Boone’s thumb lubing me up and coating his cock before he fits the head against the hole that was previously a no-go zone.
“You ready, sugar? We’ll take it slow. You want to stop, you say the word, and we stop.”
“I’m done stopping. I’m done taking it slow. I want this, Boone. I want you.”
He leans down to take my mouth in a deep kiss at the same time he presses inside me. I suck in a breath as he keeps his forehead resting against mine.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“You okay?”
I nod, even though okay isn’t the word for what I’m feeling. Exhilarated and one step from losing my ever-loving mind would be more accurate.
Holy hell, why did I put this off so long?
Boone continues forward until his balls touch my ass. “Sweet fucking Christ. This may not last long. You’re so goddamned tight.” Strain marks his forehead, and sweat beads on mine. “Gotta move now, sugar.”
“Do it. Please.”
Boone reaches between us to press his thumb against my clit as he pulls out and then surges back in. My scream takes us both by surprise, and so does my almost-instant orgasm.
“Boone!” His name echoes off the ceiling, and I don’t care who hears it. I lose myself to the sensation as he continues to thrust while teasing my clit.
Oh. My. God.
Within minutes, I’m limp, and Boone empties himself inside me with a hoarse shout of my name. My eyelids flutter closed and I’m boneless, floating on a cloud of pleasure I never knew possible. When he finally pulls free of my body and returns with a damp towel to clean us up, I’m still without words.