Risky Replay (Country Stars Forever #1)

Chapter 7

Seven

EMILY

Being a parent is more than pretty words and empty promises. Derek believes he can soothe his son’s worries from a tour bus. Or build a relationship through a screen. I’ve been there. My kids have done that. The only reason it worked with Ryan is because we were married. He lived with us. He was their dad. Every day.

Being away from them during deployment created an empty feeling along with the constant worry about making it home. It’s why I left the Army. Derek will try to make things work. He’ll get James attached to him and then he’ll be gone. If he sticks around, and it’s a very possible if, he needs a cold slap of truth about what type of parent James needs.

Otherwise, our son will end up hurt, again.

Derek rubs his palms over his face for the umpteenth time. He tips back and readjusts the cap on his head, and produces his phone.

“I have all summer to figure out the schedule. I’m here until the end of August. I'll visit home on some weekends, but otherwise, I can stay here.”

As he shares a few more details of his plans this summer, including opening the restaurant, one fact replays over and over. This isn’t home for him. This isn’t home for me. I purchased our one-way flight to our real home months ago. He finishes with a schedule that would work if we stay here.

“What do you think?” he asks, eyes wide and gleaming.

“Ready to order?” The server shows up with our coffees. Her eyes stay on Derek. Does she recognize him? When I check to see if he’s noticed, he’s watching me.

“Ready?” he asks.

We order. If the server recognizes him, she hides it well. Is this what it would be like to spend time near him? Is Derek gawked at or recognized here? In Nashville? What will James think of all this? Will women fawn over my son to get to Derek? My mind spins, and with a deep breath, I force the questions to stop.

His expectant gaze lands on me. I owe him honesty. “This isn’t home. Not for me. Not anymore.”

“I live in Nashville,” he says as if I’d asked.

“Are you staying with your dad?”

“I’m at the Hyatt in downtown.”

A hotel room isn’t the homiest place for a kid to stay.

I blow on the coffee to cool it. “We live in Maryland.”

Derek’s eyes narrow. “Maryland?”

“We moved here because my brother bought a house with a two-bedroom unit in the back. He meant for my grandparents to live there, but he was called to work with a group of traveling doctors in the Caribbean. They moved into the big house, and we’re in the bungalow. We’re moving back to Maryland at the end of June. That’s where we’ve lived for the last three years.”

“In a month?”

We will leave, no matter what. We have a home. A home we love where the kids have memories of our family and of Ryan. A home I fought for and saved.

“You won’t consider staying?” His lips press into a line.

Stay for what? Like him, this isn’t home. The residual guilt I carry rises back up, but it’s not strong enough for me to change my plans.

Under the table, I rub the denim covering my thighs. “I promised we’d go home. My job is to give them as much stability as possible. Coming here was always temporary.”

“Temporary?”

I shift as I work over how to explain our situation. “After Ryan passed, I decided to rent our house in Crofton, that’s in Maryland. My brother wanted me to be close to my grandparents while he was gone. I could rent my house and save money by living here for free. The tenants are moving out. We’re moving back in. I have a good job waiting for me.”

I leave out the truth. I had no choice. Either I lived rent free for a year with my grandparents or lose the house my kids have called home for the better part of their lives. Derek only needs to know we are returning to Maryland. Not why. “It’s a shorter flight than to the west coast.”

He scoffs. “That’s what you’re offering me?”

His phone rings. He silences it.

“What do you?—”

His phone pings and he scowls.

“Hang on.” He raises the phone to his ear. “Where?… No… No, I haven’t… When?” There’s a long pause, and his penetrating stare latches onto me while the other person talks. Whatever he hears must be important, because there’s a spark of interest in his eyes. He ends the call.

“You’re moving?” he asks like he doesn’t believe me.

I glance out the window at the parking lot. My wreck of a car is a reminder to never let my guard down. If I’d stayed vigilant with Ryan, I wouldn’t be paying off his debt and fighting to keep our home. I never would have moved to San Diego. Or run into Derek. And he wouldn’t have found out in such a shitty way.

“Emily,” Derek says calling my attention. He asked me something earlier.

My phone pings. I dig it out and find a message from my mother-in-law.

Lillian

Now I know why you don’t have time to return my calls.

There’s one big reason I’ve tapered off contact since Ryan’s death. What would she be talking about?

“Emily.” Derek repeats more forcefully, causing my attention to snap away from the phone. He’s standing. A hundred-dollar bill lies in the middle of the table. He extends his hand out to me as he scans the crowd at the diner. I do the same. No one is looking our way.

“We need to go.” When I don’t move, he adds, “Now.”

I take his hand, warm and calloused around my palm as he leads me out of the restaurant. His grip tightens and although I’m unsure of what’s happening, I let him lead. We exit, and he walks in the opposite direction from my car toward a newer model black Silverado. The lights flicker and he opens the driver’s door. “Get in and scoot over.”

I search the area for any threats. “No one is following us. Is this some sort of test? Like you’re auditioning for the Secret Service or something? I know how to keep an eye on things and plan an escape route.”

He snickers.

I huff.

“I didn’t want to risk you finding out any other way.”

“Finding out what?” My fist flies to my hips.

Derek tracks the movement. “Get in the truck and find out.”

My need to know wins. I climb in and over the enormous console. I’m surrounded by new car smell. “You could have opened the passenger door like a gentleman.”

“And risk you running off while I’m circling the front?” he says behind me.

Once I settle on the seat, I glare at him. “I don’t run.”

His turn to glare.

Derek’s phone pings several times. Mine pings twice. I check it again, hoping it’s not Lillian again. This time, it’s Holly, my best friend and neighbor in Crofton.

Holly

You better call me with every detail.

Then there’s a picture. As I go to click on what looks like a blurry stage, Derek’s big hand covers the screen.

He clears his throat. “Someone recorded us last night.”

“Hundreds of cameras were pointed our way. And you’re famous.”

He turns to me. “It’s not the video. It’s the reaction.”

He leans over, pulls up a video on his phone. We’re standing staring at each other in the still frame of the thumbnail. There are hundreds of thousands of views and thousands of comments.

“Oh my god.” I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand.

Derek’s eyes shine, but his lips stay flat.

I shake my head. “What are they saying?” One night and I’ve caused problems for the Muddy Boots.

Derek’s smile appears. “They love you.”

What have I done? It’s been less than twenty-four hours, and I’ve ruined everything in Derek’s life. Will we become parents who hate each other? I have to protect James from being in the middle of a mess.

“Emily, look at me.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice trembles as I whisper the apology. “Please don’t let James see this.”

“Why?” He’s upset now. “Listen to this.” He pulls the phone closer and reads a few comments out loud. “ They sound better than the original. Here is another: This is fire and I’m burning up watching these two. I like this one: Who’s the hottie and Derek James is definitely sending some big heart —” He pauses and glances in my direction, “They think you’ve got something special. No one sounds like this by singing in the shower once in a while.”

My cheeks warm. “I’ve had a few opportunities since I’ve been back.” It’s a quick way to make extra cash. “Mostly some rancheras and romances .”

Derek’s brows reach his hairline. “Didn’t go back to country?”

I love my country music. I grew up singing the classics with my grandmother while she made me do my chores on Saturday mornings. She would turn up the stereo while we washed dishes to Shania, Trisha, and Faith, mixed in with June, Loretta, and Gretchen. Sometimes she’d switch it up to the classics like Petula Clark and Freda Payne, and it wouldn’t be a cleaning party without Patsy Cline. My grandmother didn’t stop there, she blended it with Spanish rock and Luis Miguel’s Romances. I was an eight-year-old who loved vacuuming and wiping down the dust and mirrors because it meant time singing with my nana. During the week, she’d be working and never home until past midnight.

I carried the habit with James and Victoria. And James loves to dance while I sing along to the music coming out of the portable speaker.

“I like diversity.” I grin at Derek.

His smile widens. My breath catches. The smile carries traces of the boy I fell for at fifteen. James always reminds me of his handsome father.

Derek tears his gaze away and reads more comments. “They want to know who you are. People will dig into your life.”

Whatever high I had from the smile Derek gifted me a moment ago, deflates. Everyone will know we have a son. What will his fans think? Will they assume he hid his child, ignored him, or gave him away?

Derek runs a palm down his face. “You don’t have socials. How about your grandparents, in-laws?”

I startle. “What? You know I don’t have social media?”

“I tried looking you up years ago. Didn’t find you. Figured if you wanted to disappear, you could, and you did.”

I swallow. “My nana has an account where she shares pictures with our family in Mexico. I can ask her to make it private.”

“Aiden, our manager, is going to get a press release going. He’ll let you review it before it goes out. Take down any pictures online, yours or hers.”

The dread resurfaces. I’ve made a bigger mess by hiding. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he says and I pick up my gaze again. His brow has a slight crease. “You were incredible last night. The crowd loved you, and so does everyone online. We can’t control what others think or say. We have to show a united front. Aiden will generate a press release claiming we kept James out of the public eye out of respect for your husband and your daughter.”

“Why would we make anything public now? He’s only six.”

“We’ll be spending a hell of a lot more time together.” Derek shakes his head. “I honestly didn’t think I’d see you again after last night.”

Oh. “I got on stage because you were supposed to meet me here this morning. I was going to tell you.”

He looks out the windshield, a sheepish smile on his face. “I wasn’t going to show.”

His admission is like a direct punch to my stomach, sending all the air out of me. I place my hands over it.

“Emily, look at me,” he says, but I force myself to not make eye contact. “Getting over you was hard enough. When I saw you on the dance floor, I made my decision. I had no intention to engage, or think about you after last night. I don’t need distractions.”

“You saw me? I’m a distraction?”

“You’re somethin’.” My head pivots in his direction. There’s a softness in his eyes that hasn’t been there since he found out about James. It quickly disappears. “Best option is to control the narrative. Country fans, like others, are curious. They’ll dig in and find something. What we print will align with what we value. Family. Our Freedom. Trucks. And beer.” He adds a cheesy grin and the tightness in my gut loosens.

“I want to meet him. Today.”

“I’m not ready.” So. Not. Ready.

He cocks his brow at me.

If I bring Derek into our lives, Ryan’s memory will fade faster for the kids. I can’t stop this either. I sag in resignation.

“How flexible are your plans to move?” he asks.

“James starts first grade, and Victoria will be in pre-K. I have friends and Ryan’s team who will watch them while I work during the summer.” I add the last part for him to know I’m not alone and I have everything planned out.

“Then there’s no need to rush back.” The finality in his tone reminds me of his need to control the chaos I’ve unleashed in his life.

“They want to go home. They miss it.”

“Do you always give them what they want?”

I don’t have the cash to spend one more month living in this crazy expensive city, even if it’s rent-free thanks to my generous little brother. I’ve saved every tip, every extra penny, and denied my kids and me any extras for a year to save enough to have a cushion.

“I have to go back.”

His jaw ticks. “A summer of flying between San Diego, Nashville, and Maryland isn’t impossible, but it would cut down on the time I have to spend with a son I want to learn everything about. I need to catch up on six years. You need to be flexible.”

I run through any logical reason to win the argument. Nothing. “There’s a T-ball potluck picnic on Tuesday. I’ll text you the details. You’re bringing the buns.”