“Oh, my cheesus and crackers!”
“Woohoo!”
“Bobby Tannen!”
“What the fuck, man?”
That one was Brody, and he gets an instant, sharp look and reminder from Mama Louise. “Language.”
“Pretty sure it’s justified in this case, Mama Louise,” Brody argues back.
She doesn’t agree, but she lets him off the hook with a lift of her brow.
“Tell us all about it!” Shayanne screams, her hands beneath her chin like a kid on Christmas morning.
Bobby goes through every detail of the deal with Outlaw Records. Mr. Wheatley was telling the truth. They really do want Bobby just as he is. The contract allows him to have full control over his music, his songwriting, his albums, his concerts, and his merchandise. They get a much larger percentage of the profits for the first two years, but then the contract allows for renegotiation. Even the percentages had seemed fair when Mr. Wheatley explained what they were going to invest in Bobby’s career—producers, advertising, musicians, and radio play. Those were all things Bobby has no idea how to do, so letting Outlaw do the hard work and sticking to the music he loves had seemed like an equitable split.
“You sure it’s not another slicker-than-snot deal like Marshall’s?” Brutal asks quietly.
Bobby looks at Allyson, who’s sitting between Brutal and Cooper.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I had someone with a fair amount of legal knowledge look over the contract first.” Bobby’s grin says loudly and clearly, ‘I hear your concerns, man, and I’m good’. They do have an odd shorthand, gruff and sometimes violent but filled with love all the same.
Brutal looks at Allyson, his brows lifted high on his forehead. “You couldn’t have told me that?”
She shakes her head, pleasantly smug to get one over on the big man. “Attorney-client privilege. Well, paralegal-client privilege, but Bobby came in to see Rick and me. You know those meetings are confidential.” Her shrug says it’s no big deal, but Bobby told me she was overjoyed for him and he wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep her mouth shut for long.
Good thing she didn’t have to because Bobby signed today and he’s spilling the good news to everyone mere hours later.
“Okay, then,” Brutal gives his blessing.
“Congratulations. Always knew you had it in you.” Bobby has looked up to Brody for years as his big brother and as a man to strive to be, so the compliment from him is heavy with importance. “Glad you’re getting the chance to let it out,” Brody jokes, his permission given.
“Like a fart,” Cooper whispers, but it’s not quiet enough and everyone cracks up.
“Cooper!” Allyson scolds him, but she’s fighting a smile too.
Shayanne recovers first. “I’d like it included in that contract that I get front-row seats to every show, a signed copy of every album, and the whole line of Bobby Tannen T-shirts. My boobs will be your billboard!” She blinks. “Wait, that’s not what I meant. Well, kinda, but you know what I’m saying.” She shakes her head like she’s trying to get that image out of her mind.
We all laugh again, and somehow, despite this life-changing news, we end up talking about the goats again. Apparently, Trollie has learned a new trick and it’s the cutest thing.
“If he sees you’ve got food, he’ll run laps around your legs, faster and faster like it’s the Daytona 500, until you fall on your butt. Then he gobbles up all the treats before you’ve even checked to see if your tailbone is in one piece. Awful monster!” Shay describes him like ‘monster’ means the cutest thing ever.
We finish dinner, and Rix and Brody clear the table, taking dishes to the sink. Mama Louise leans my way. “Come here, dear. I want to show you something.”
I get up, letting go of Bobby’s hand under the table, curious about what she could possibly want me to see.
In the front room, I freeze when I see them.
My pictures. All of the ones I printed are precisely and perfectly hung on the wall in a large arrangement. Mama Louise has added some older pictures of the boys when they were little, a black and white wedding picture of her and John, and there are even some old shots of the Bennetts and Tannens from decades ago. I think my favorite is one of both families, the kids all sprawled out in the grass and dirt with Mama Louise, John, Martha, and Paul looking over them with big smiles on their faces. I didn’t even know they were friendly back then, but the closeness is clear in the shot.
“Oh my gosh, it’s beautiful!” I whisper, tears popping to my eyes.
“They are,” Mama Louise agrees with me. “I love my life, but you captured my family in a way I don’t think anyone else could have. Because you’re part of it. Just one thing’s missing.”
I look to her in confusion.
Her smile is sweet, but her tone leaves no room for arguing. “I need that picture of you and me making fried chicken. Got a spot for it right here.” She pats an empty space on the wall. “Gotta have the whole family up here.”
A crash sounds out from the kitchen and she clucks her tongue. “How they can manage a whole herd of cattle, gently break a horse, and plant and harvest acres of land . . . but not load the dishwasher without breaking something? I’ll simply never understand it.”
Mama Louise darts around the corner, calling out, “You break it, you buy me a new one.”
Allyson, Katelyn, Sophie, and I giggle quietly. They followed Mama Louise and me into the front room to see the pictures too.
“These are so good,” Katelyn sighs. “If you ever want to do wedding photography, let me know. To be clear, I highly suggest you don’t because brides are . . .” She rolls her eyes, and I wonder if she’s working with a bridezilla these days. She plasters her professional work smile back on her face and continues. “Most are lovely and would be appreciative of work like this if you want it.”
“Thanks,” I tell her. “That’s not really my thing, though. The blog’s going well and is supporting me, so I’m good. Thank you, though.”
She nods, and Allyson leans over to whisper, “Thank you for the other pictures too. We had to hang ours in our walk-in closet. Cooper knows not to go in there because that’s where I hide the birthday and Christmas presents, so he’ll never see me naked except for a sheer curtain, lying in the grass like a goddess.” She smiles, obviously pleased with how her picture turned out.
“Uh, Allyson?” Sophie interrupts, her brows dropped together, “that’s probably the first place he goes then. No kid can resist peeking at presents.”
“Oh, he wouldn’t . . .” Allyson stops at the looks on our faces because Sophie is right. “Shit,” she spits out and then beelines around the corner toward Brutal.
We giggle, shaking our heads.
“Guess I’m glad Cindy Lou doesn’t care about her mom in a bra yet.”
Katelyn snorts. “Ours is over the tub in our bathroom. No worries about anyone seeing it. Mark wouldn’t let anyone in there, anyway. Even if they needed to pee, he’d send ’em outside, not into our room.”
“What about Shay and Rix?” I muse aloud, curious.
“Shay’s is probably up in the barn for everyone and God to see. Or maybe in Luke’s office?” Sophie suggests.
“Hmm, I’m betting Rix’s is hanging in Brody’s bedroom. She would definitely not want it where any of the guys who work at her shop could catch a glimpse. She works too hard for them to forget she’s female and a better mechanic than they are.”
“What about yours?” Sophie asks.
I can feel my cheeks blush, the heat burning high and bright. “I, uh . . . I hung it in my bedroom. Bobby . . . liked it.” That’s putting it mildly. When he saw the dark silhouette of my curves kneeling on my bed, he’d gently traced the lines, his breath coming faster and faster with every inch. Then he’d flashed me a heated grin and asked me to sign it for him. Artist, model, and his. I’d done it with a giggly laugh, having never imagined that anyone would appreciate my photography the way he does.
I look at the wal
l of photos again. Somehow, that crazy night had turned out some beautiful work.
Of course, it’s not hard when the subject I’m photographing is beautiful inside and out, like this family.
“I’m feeling like it’s a Special Sweet Tea night,” Mama Louise says from the kitchen.
“Oh, God, don’t make a rookie mistake,” Sophie warns me. “It’s stronger than it seems. Pretty sure that’s how I got Cindy Lou.” Her grin says she doesn’t mind that at all.
I think I’ll take it easy on whatever this magical concoction is, though. Maybe have some water like Sophie does, though she claims it’s because she’s gonna have to drive drunk James home.
That night, after a long shower to wash the day away, Bobby pulls the covers back for me to climb into his bed. It’s late, and work will start dark and early for him, but he seems on edge as I snuggle into his side.
My head rests on his chest, and his fingers dance along my shoulder in those patterns that have come to bring me joy, a sign that he’s thinking, singing, playing in his mind.
“Tell me, Bobby.” I give his words back to him, hoping they work as well for me as they do for him.
I feel his chest vibrate as a small laugh rumbles through him. Then he squeezes me tightly, pulling me on top of him. Our eyes meet, his dark to my gray, and one of his thick fingers gently brushes my hair behind my ear.
“Nothing is going to change, right?” he asks softly.
I’m surprised by the scared, uncertain sound of his voice. I press a tiny kiss to the tip of his nose. “Nothing has to change unless we want it to. This is a big opportunity, but you decide what to do with it.”
His nod is a vow. “I promise nothing will change. You and me forever, Willow. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I can feel the moment stretch, meaning woven through it. We’re on the verge of a cliff, about to jump off into open air. We’re holding hands, jumping together, but that’s a small comfort to the natural fear of both falling and flying.
But for now, we’ve got both feet on steady ground, the foundation of us sure and firm.
“You’re going to be a big star, Bobby Tannen. But for now, you’re still mine. All mine,” I whisper.
“That won’t ever change.” His tone is serious, but I want to ease his worries, not let him fall deeper into them. I pull my glasses off, dropping them to the nightstand, and he takes the hint, changing tones. “What are you going to do with me if I’m all yours?” He’s baiting me, teasing himself as he lifts his hips beneath me.
I can feel his hardness pressed to my center, and I move up and down, letting the ridge of him massage my clit and down toward my opening. “Mmm.” I moan at how good he feels there, wanting more. But first . . .
I throw the blankets off, moving down Bobby’s body, pressing kiss after kiss to each inch of warm skin I discover—his sharp jaw, the muscles of his pecs, his sternum, his ribs as he gasps and his belly goes tight. My nails score down his thighs as I get lower.
“Willow?” he groans from above me.
I look up his body, smiling sweetly and then sticking my tongue out to lick a slow circle around the crown of his dick.
“Mmm.” The sound he makes is low in his chest as his hips unconsciously thrust up for more. One of his hands cups my head, and he traces my lip with his other thumb. “Tell me.”
“I want to taste you,” I whisper so quietly I’m not sure he can even hear me, but he does. Of course he does.
“Do it, sweetheart.”
I take him into my mouth, feeling his hardness slide over my tongue an inch at a time. More and more, I swallow him down. Breathing through my nose—thanks, Katelyn—I let him slip into my throat. I move up and down his length over and over.
His breath goes jagged, and he folds his arms behind his head, using the pillow to prop himself up. I open my eyes, meeting his, and his grin is pure, wicked desire as he watches me take him into my mouth.
Again and again, I consume him, am consumed by him. He gets closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy, losing control and moving with me, encouraging me faster, deeper, harder. His hands move, one threading back into my hair to control my head and the other holding the base of his shaft as he fucks my mouth. I moan at the sensation of being under his control. Mostly, I cry out at being his, the only one who can bring him this pleasure.
“Now.” The grunted warning comes a split second before he does, his release hot and salty. I gulp him down, wanting every drop. He shudders, tapping his head against my tongue with a satisfied smirk.
“Come here.” His hands reach under my arms, pulling me up to him. He kisses me fully, not caring that I just swallowed him down.
After one deep, thorough kiss, he keeps pulling and pushing, arranging me the way he wants me. I end up on my knees, straddling his face as he reclines on his pillow. Gripping my hips, he stares at my center. “I want you to ride my face, fuck my mouth with this sweet pussy until you come on me. I wanna drown in you.”
I don’t know what to say to that, but I do as he says and move my hips over him. His tongue laps at me, tasting my skin and juices hungrily. He focuses on my clit, one of his thick fingers filling me in time with the circles his tongue makes. I cry out, quickly on the edge myself. “Bobby!”
He grunts, taking his finger away and holding me tight to his mouth as I come. My hips buck over and over, searching for the release only he can bring me.
Before I’ve even finished coming, I’m flying through the air to land face down on the bed. Bobby’s hands grip my hips, pulling them back so that my cheek is pressed to the pillow and my ass is lifted back toward him. Panting for breath, I manage to gasp as he shoves inside me.
“Yes,” he hisses as my body gives way to his welcome invasion.
I bounce against him, his hips slamming into my ass with every thrust. It’s rough and powerful, but his words are sweet. “You and me, Willow. Nothing will ever change. You and I are going to tackle the world. Tell me, sweetheart.”
“You and me, Bobby. I love you.”
He grunts out a sound that I think is ‘I love you too’, and then he takes me harder and faster. The bed slams against the wall, and I’m thankful that Brody and Rix aren’t here tonight, not that I would stop Bobby even if they were in the hallway listening in. I can’t. I want this too much.
We’re making promises with our bodies, writing vows with our hearts. He’s getting his dream come true, and I’ll chase it with him because I’ve already got mine.
Bobby. Unc being okay and our family reconnected. My photography work. Home. Friends. So many things I didn’t even know I was missing. But now that I have them, I can’t imagine life without them.
We come at the same time, jumping off the cliff into the free fall of the future to fly together.
Chapter 28
Bobby
“Holy fuck.” I stare at the piece of paper in my hands in disbelief. “I’ve never seen that many zeroes. I don’t know what to say.”
Head down, elbows on my knees, I run a finger over the numbers and then the words, trying to feel them. The paper is smooth beneath my touch, but I can feel the importance of what this means.
Willow drops to her knees on the floor next to me, looking over my arm. “You earned it. Every penny. You heard what Stephen said.”
I did hear him when he called earlier this week. I just didn’t exactly believe him.
Promise me the big time, and I’ll be the fool for trusting you.
I signed that contract with Outlaw Records three months ago, and my life has changed since then in so many ways. And it somehow stayed the same in others. It’s an odd twist of fate.
On one hand, almost immediately after signing, I’d gone back to Nashville with Willow by my side. We’d had a week of fun—making music, taking pictures, and making love in lots of places that we’ll never, ever tell anyone.
Willow had sat by Miller’s side while we recorded every song I’ve ever written. Stephen said
that would give us lots of options for the album and to release to radio. We’d chosen Dig Down Deeper as my first single, and it’d been an instant hit.
The first time I heard it on the radio, I’d pulled over, yanked the door open, and danced with Willow on the side of Main Street. My voice coming through the radio had been a surreal experience.
I’ve had another single make the top ten list since then, and yesterday, I gave my first radio interview from the kitchen table. Weird doesn’t begin to describe that. The DJ had laughed when I said I had to go because my brother was waiting on me to harvest a batch of pumpkins. I’d been serious, trying to talk about my music while Brutal glared at me from the doorway, occasionally glancing at his watch and then out the window at the height of the sun in the sky.
“Holy fuck,” I say again. When Stephen had told me what my share of the profits were, I’d laughed aloud, thinking he was shitting me. But here it is, in black and white.
“You sure about this? We could take this and go anywhere, do anything.” Dream talk of ‘what would I do if I won the lottery’ has become seriously fucking real with this piece of paper in my hands.
She turns my chin so that I meet her eyes and gives me a small smile. “Why would we go anywhere else, do anything else? This is home, yours and mine.”
Her mood-ring eyes swirl with happy light, and that she understands what this place means, not just to me but to my entire family, is nothing short of amazing. I don’t know what I did to deserve this woman, but I pray I can keep on doing it every day.
I bury myself in her arms, in her heart. In our future.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
The dinner table is loud and boisterous, as usual. Cooper is telling a story about the school’s fall festival, and Brutal keeps jumping in to add details from the several times he’s heard the story before. Cindy Lou is screeching, “Mama, more!” no matter how fast Sophie loads her plate with tiny, cut-up bits of carrots. James and Mark are fighting over the best cuts of pot roast, and I’ve got my woman’s hand in mine, smiling as I take it all in.
Rough Country (Tannen Boys Book 3) Page 36