Beneath a Tennessee Sky (Echoes of a Southern Song #3)

Chapter One

Jack

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“R ISE AND SHINE, ROCKSTAR ,” Aggie hollers.

I groan, sit up, and blink against the early light pouring through the window over my bed. I run a hand through my hair, still a mess from the night before. Not that it matters. I didn’t sleep much. Too much on my mind.

Too much about Memphis.

Too much about Liz Belfer’s voice still echoing in my head. “Come with me. We’ll sign you at Rockline. Full tour. Studio time. All of it.”

I haven’t told Jinnie. I should’ve. But I didn’t want to ruin the one good thing I’ve got going right now by tossing a bomb into it.

“Be out in a minute,” I call out.

Aggie is a machine. She closes the bar and still manages to get up early. I don’t know why, but I’m feeling a little guilty. Like I don’t want to face her. Or Jinnie.

I should be celebrating.

This is the break I’ve been waiting for. My entire life, I’ve been dreaming of that moment when someone—anyone—with industry connections would hear me and see something worth investing in. And now it’s happened.

So why does it feel like I’ve been punched in the gut?

I drag myself out of bed and pull on a wrinkled t-shirt from the floor. The mirror shows shadows under my eyes. Liz’s business card sits on my nightstand, the edges already worn from how many times I’ve picked it up, studied it, and almost called. I stick it in the dresser. I don’t want anyone to see it just yet.

“Jack! Coffee’s getting cold!” Aggie’s voice carries through the thin walls.

“Coming!”

The kitchen smells like bacon and coffee. Aggie stands at the stove, spatula in hand, her hair pulled back in its usual messy bun. She doesn’t look at me when I enter, just pushes a mug my way.

“You were good last night,” she says finally. “Real good.”

“Thanks.”

“That woman—the one in the fancy clothes. She sure seemed interested in you, didn’t she?”

I nearly choke on my coffee. “Yeah.”

She glances over at me. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Jinnie texted and says she’ll be over in about twenty minutes,” Aggie says.

“What? Why?”

Aggie frowns. “You promised to help paint the shed, remember?” she says. “Jinnie is going to help as well.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

“Are you feeling okay?” she asks. “You look...tired.”

“I am tired.”

“You went to bed before me,” she says with a laugh. “If my old bones can handle getting out of bed, I know you can.” She puts a plate with bacon, eggs, and toast in front of me. “Eat up. You’re going to need your strength.”

“Thank you,” I murmur. I’m not really all that hungry. I feel like an asshole for not already telling Aggie and Jinnie about Liz.

Aggie plops down across from me, her own plate piled high. She’s always had an appetite that doesn’t match her small frame. Something about a “hummingbird metabolism,” she once told me.

“You know that shed’s been an eyesore since before you moved in. Can’t believe we’re finally getting around to it. I was thinking about demolishing it, but I think a little paint and we might be able to save it.”

I push my eggs around the plate. “Yeah, long overdue.”

I take a bite of toast to avoid responding. The thought of Jinnie just makes the decision harder. Memphis is an eight-hour drive. Tours are months long. Studio time means relocating. I don’t know how or when I would ever get to see her.

“You’re a million miles away this morning.” Aggie’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

“Just tired.”

She nods but says nothing. And I sit there and feel like the worst person on the planet for keeping things from her.

I’m halfway through forcing down my breakfast when there’s a quick knock on the door.

“It’s open!” Aggie calls out before I can even move.

The door swings open, and there she is, all sunshine and energy. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, a few wavy strands framing her face. She’s wearing a faded tank top with cutoff jean shorts, and somehow she still looks like she belongs on a magazine cover.

“Morning, everybody!” Jinnie says with a cheerful smile. She’s carrying a tray with three iced coffees, condensation dripping down the sides. “I figured we could use the extra caffeine for painting day.”

“You’re an angel,” Aggie says, grabbing one of the cups.

Jinnie sets the tray down and slides into the chair next to mine, her knee brushing against my leg under the table. “Hey, rockstar,” she says, nudging my shoulder with hers. “You were incredible last night. I think half the town is still talking about your show.”

“Thanks,” I manage. I take a sip of the iced coffee she brought, grateful for the distraction. “This is good.”

“Secret recipe.” She winks. “Actually, it’s just extra caramel and a splash of vanilla, but don’t tell anyone.”

Aggie watches us with that knowing look she gets sometimes. “Well, I’m going to get the paint cans set up. You two finish your breakfast and meet me out there.” She stands, taking her coffee with her. “And Jack, eat something. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

When the screen door slams behind her, Jinnie turns to face me fully. “You okay? You seem... off.”

“I’m fine,” I say automatically. “Just tired.”

“Okay,” she says.

We finish eating and go outside to find Aggie, hands on her hips as she stares at the old shed. It’s tucked into the trees and could easily be ignored if it wasn’t so ugly.

Jinnie pops open one of the cans. Bright. Neon. Orange.

“Uh, that’s bold,” I murmur.

Jinnie looks at the paint and grabs a stick to stir it. “That’s... orange.”

Aggie squints at it. “Wait. That’s not Cedarwood Sunset. That’s—what in the world did I buy?”

Jinnie snorts. “Looks like a traffic cone.”

I dip a brush in it, swipe a streak across the shed’s faded wood, and step back. “You’ll never lose your shed,” I tease.

Aggie sighs. “We’re committed now. Just paint fast before I change my mind.”

We spend the morning slathering coat after coat of bright orange across the entire building. At some point, I stop noticing how loud the color is. Maybe because I’ve been blinded by it.

Jinnie gets more paint on herself than the shed, including a whole streak across her neck when she brushes her hair back with the brush in her hand. I try not to laugh. I fail. She retaliates by flicking paint at me.

“Oh, it’s war now?” I say, stepping toward her.

She grins. “I’m just saying you’ve got a little something right there.” She taps her own cheek.

We end up chasing each other around the backyard, paintbrushes swinging like swords. Aggie yells at us to “quit clowning and finish the job,” but even she’s laughing by the time we collapse on the grass, breathless and covered in blotches of orange.

I lie there next to Jinnie, watching the clouds drift overhead, pretending the heaviness in my chest isn’t there. Pretending I’m not thinking about Memphis. About leaving. About what it would mean to walk away from this.

From her.

She turns her head toward me. “What’s going on in that noisy brain of yours?”

“Nothing,” I say too quickly.

She doesn’t buy it. I see it in her eyes. But she lets it go for now.

We hose off as best we can—mostly unsuccessfully—and Aggie invites us in for lemonade and leftover fried chicken.

I should be happy. And I am. Mostly.

But I also feel like I’m sitting on a secret too big to keep.

When I left home, I didn’t know where I was going but I always assumed music was going to lead the way. I left my dad and brothers because I wanted to play music. Landing here with Aggie was a stroke of luck. My father taking my money actually worked out very well for me.

And now that I’m actually being given the opportunity I was chasing, I don’t know if I want it. What’s wrong with me? I should be jumping for joy. I should be shouting it from the rooftops and rubbing it in my father’s face. He never thought I would make it. He wanted me to fail. I knew my brothers would be thrilled. They would support me. My mom would’ve been proud of me. I can hear her voice telling me to follow my dreams.

“Earth to Jack,” Jinnie says, waving a hand in front of my face. “You’ve been staring at that chicken leg for five minutes without taking a bite.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, biting into it to avoid further questions.

We finish eating and head back out to slap some more paint on the shed. By the end of the day, we’d put on two coats. The thing was ugly as hell but Aggie apparently thought it was funny.

“Coming over?” Jinnie asks.

I smile because that’s what she expects. “Damn straight.”

“You kids have fun,” Aggie says. “Thank you for all your help today.”

“I think we made that shed worse.” Jinnie laughs.

“I’ll never lose it,” Aggie retorts.

“It definitely looks like a giant pumpkin threw up on it,” I say.

When we get to her place, we’re both exhausted. We clean up and collapse on the small couch. She’s curled up against me. My arm around her shoulders and her head resting against my chest. She kisses my neck with her hand moving over my chest.

Jinnie’s lips move against mine, soft and insistent. Her hand slides under my shirt. Her nails scrape across my skin in that way that normally drove me wild. I kiss her back, trying to lose myself in the moment.

“You taste like lemonade,” she whispers against my mouth.

I smile, but it feels mechanical. Jinnie’s fingers thread through my hair, tugging me closer. I pull her against me, hoping physical connection will drown out the noise in my head.

“Where are you?” she murmurs, pulling back slightly to look at me.

“I’m right here,” I say, kissing her again.

Her hand slides lower, toying with my belt buckle. My hand moves under her shirt, quickly unhooking her bra. I’m operating on autopilot. I pull her shirt off while she undoes the button on my jeans. Her hand slides under the waistband of my underwear. I close my eyes and let my body feel. I don’t need to think. This feels good.

“All right. Out with it.” Jinnie says and pulls back.

I freeze. “What?”

“You’ve been somewhere else all day,” she says softly. “Don’t deny it. I can feel it. What’s going on? Is it your dad?”

I don’t answer right away. I don’t know how to say it. We just finally got her free of her ex. Things were just starting to get good.

She sits up straighter. “Jack.”

“Remember the blonde lady from the other night?” I ask her.

“How could I forget?” she mutters.

“She’s a talent scout.”

Jinnie’s eyes widen. “A talent scout? From where?”

“Rockline Records in Memphis,” I say, feeling a strange mix of pride and dread wash over me. “Her name’s Liz Belfer.”

“Wait, what?” Jinnie pulls away slightly to look at my face. “Jack, that’s huge! Why didn’t you say something?”

“She wants to sign me. Full deal. Studio time. Tour. The whole package.”

“Holy crap! Really?!” Jinnie’s face lights up. “Jack! This is amazing! It’s what you’ve always wanted!”

Her excitement makes it worse somehow. I look away. “Yeah.”

“Why aren’t you jumping up and down? This is incredible news!” She searches my face, then her smile falters. “Unless you don’t want it?”

“No, I do. I think.” I stand up, needing to move. “I’ve dreamed about this since I was a kid. But now...”

“Now what?”

I pace across her small living room. “Now there’s you. I don’t want to ruin things. We’ve finally got peace. You’re free, we’re good, and then this thing drops in my lap and I don’t want to mess it all up. Your life is here. Your family. Your job. I would have to be in Memphis.”

She doesn’t yell. Doesn’t get up. I see reality sinking in. That was my same reaction.

“Are you going to leave me?” she asks.