Chapter 21
Bailey
Okay, so I may have gone to the extremes with our hunkering down like a huge storm is about to hit, but Brett is relaxed and we spend the rest of the night engrossed in conversation. He opens up about touring, singing, and what it’s like being on top of the world. The highs and lows.
“It’s been a lot,” he says. “But I’m not gonna complain about the perks, there are many. And I love what I do, I just lost it for a while.”
“Tell me about your parents and your sister,” I encourage. I want to hear more about them.
“They’re amazingly supportive. I’m lucky that I got two parents who never forced me into anything.
In fact, when I first told them I wanted to pursue music, they were skeptical that I could make it work as a career, but they’ve always been in my corner.
My sister thinks it’s pretty cool, though,” he laughs.
“She likes to hang with me sometimes on tour to check out the other musicians, so I’ve gotta keep a close eye out on her. ”
I laugh too. “She sounds like fun.”
“A handful,” he says. “But she keeps me grounded and always tells me the truth. As does my best friend, Dale, he’s been a rock, just like Jed. I don’t know what I would have done without the two of them.”
“I’m glad you have good people in your life.” I truly mean that, it can’t be easy being a music god and having to worry all the time that people aren’t gonna go blab to the tabloids. “Did Zane know who you were when you first got here?”
“Nope. But Jed eventually filled him in.” He shrugs. “See, I have a face that’s easy to forget.”
“That isn’t true.”
“No?”
I shake my head. “Nope, not by a long shot.”
He tells me about the inspiration for his songwriting and how his grandfather taught him to play the guitar as soon as he was old enough to hold one.
His family sounds very down to earth, the kind of people I would love to meet.
He even brought his favorite acoustic guitar and strums out a tune, watching his fingers work over the strings has me in total awe.
The hum of his voice is like nothing I’ve ever experienced—it’s almost like we’re the only people that exist for a moment.
And while I have heard some of his songs, nothing compares to having him here in my living room playing his guitar with just the flicker of the candles for lighting in the background.
Then we finally lay on the couch with popcorn and watch a movie.
It’s nice, maybe even a little surreal being in his arms. When he first told me about being Rock, I didn’t really know what to think, but when I saw the look on his face and how earnest he was, I immediately understood.
I’ve been a person people don’t connect with easily.
I often joke that I’m better with animals than humans, and that part is a hundred percent true, but with Brett it’s like I’ve known him forever.
He was only trying to protect his privacy, I couldn’t be mad at him for that.
Especially after what he’s been through.
Of course, the girls have been blowing up my phone asking all kinds of questions I’m not ready to answer.
After two days of sneaking around, keeping a low profile, and Brett insisting he come to the stables to keep his sanity, the bubble finally burst.
When George texts me one night when we’re relaxing on the couch, I bolt upright.
George
Bails, don’t freak out, but the press found out where Brett is and they’re camped out front
“Shit!” I say, jumping up like someone burned me.
“What’s wrong?” Brett asks, looking utterly confused at my sudden outburst.
“The reporters, they’re here.”
“I thought everyone in town was gonna remain tight-lipped?” Brett says, rubbing his chin.
“Someone was bound to blab,” I sigh. “Everyone has their price. I’ll bet it was those little shits from the other side of town.”
“Whoever it was, the gig is up.”
I quickly text George back.
Me
Where are you now?
George
Just found Iz loitering around with your food. I’ll bring her up
“Iz and George are coming,” I say quickly. Isabelle said she’d bring dinner because, other than Brett ducking down in the truck when I drive to work, we haven’t been out anywhere. “Izzy has food.”
Brett pulls me to him and looks down at me. “It’s gonna be okay. I don’t want to scare you with the reporters and stuff, they can be aggressive sometimes.”
I snort. “You think I’m gonna run away over a bunch of nosy newshounds?”
“Newshounds?” he laughs.
I wave a hand around, suddenly conscious of the curtains being open. We are some distance away from the main road, but who knows with cameras these days. I walk over and pull them closed, one by one. “Scribbler. Press jockey. Paps. Scoopster. Dirt digger, whatever you wanna call them.”
Brett doubles over with laughter. “That’s hilarious.”
“Oh, pipe down. I’m the one with the gun, remember?”
He raises both hands. “Yes, ma’m, you know I don’t wanna mess with you, in fact, you scare me a little.”
I shoot him a look as he walks over to me. “Me? Scary?”
“You’re kiddin’ right? You’d shoot a man at ten paces… without a gun.”
I whack him on the arm. “Very funny.”
“Hey, you said you had a shotgun.”
“Right, a shotgun, not laser beams from my eyes.”
He wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For housin’ me when I had nowhere else, for bein’ there to scare away the vultures.”
“I’m sorry people have let you down in the past, but I’m not planning on being one of those people.”
He brushes the hair back off my face. “I almost wish they weren’t comin’ up the driveway with food right now.”
“Or what?” I sass. “You better deliver on any innuendo later, Cowboy.”
He presses me into the wall, his hand on my neck, my heart fluttering wildly. His lips meet mine, and it’s a raw, demanding, downright obscene kiss, and I can’t get enough. I wrap my arms around his neck as our tongues meet.
Goddamn, Izzy! I mean, I love her, I know she’s just being helpful, but I need Brett’s dick right now, not chow mein.
“Brett,” I gasp when I feel his cock against my hip. “They’re gonna be here any second.”
“Then you’d better be a good girl or I’ll take you over my knee again and keep them waitin’ outside until I’m done.”
My eyes widen and I mime: ‘Holy fuck’, just as there’s a rat-a-tat-tat at the door. We both jump. Goddamn George and his beast of a truck. They could’ve driven slower.
“Hold that thought, honey,” he drawls, stepping back, adjusting himself, and straightening out his shirt.
“Not fair,” I say, still plastered against the wall. “Now all I want to do is get rid of the two people feeding us and keeping the bad guys out.”
“I’ll reward you later.” He smirks.
My mind jumps to all kinds of positions we haven’t tried yet, and in just a few minutes I need a goddamn cold shower. He holds out a hand, pulling me off the wall. “Can’t keep our guests waitin’ now, can we?”
I point at him. “You’re gonna pay for that kiss.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
I head to the door, barefoot, my comfy Daisy Dukes still on from earlier. When I open the door, Izzy swings a bag in my face.
“Food delivery for the most talked about couple in town,” she chimes.
My eyes widen. “What?”
“Oh,” Iz says as she steps inside. “Yeah, about that—”
George steps in behind, giving me an eye roll. “Hope you don’t plan on going out anytime soon.”
“I’m getting to that!” Izzy snaps, but George just chuckles. They’re used to each other after all these years, but there’s times where they still can’t stand one another.
“Oh, no,” Brett groans. “Is it that bad?”
Izzy nods. “Afraid so. There’s at least fifty so far.”
I pale. “Fifty? Outside my front gate?”
“Yep.” Iz pops the ‘p’. “So, yeah, George was keeping everyone out, nice to know you’re good for something, Georgie-Boy.”
George gives her an exasperated look and throws in a sigh. “Not like we’ve had a real celebrity here in years,” he says. “Dolly Parton was on the slopes one year, made my job a helluva time. Sweet as pie, though. Never did meet a woman with such a nice nature.” He gives Iz a pointed look.
“Do you like older women?” she huffs. “Because while I adore her, love her music, and think she looks amazing, she’s old enough to be your grandmother.”
“Maybe I do like a cougar.” George shrugs. “What’s it to you?”
“Put a sock in it, we came to feed two starving prisoners over here, the food is getting cold,” Iz says, her lip curled up in the most hilarious way.
Starving prisoners. Oh, lordy.
I don’t know why they fight it. Something to do with a falling out from way back when, but I don’t exactly know the specifics. Izzy doesn’t talk about it.
“Appreciate the sentiment,” Brett says, tipping his hat, ever the gentleman.
“Well, if we left it up to George, you’d both be dead by starvation because he’s barricaded the driveway.”
George sighs. “I haven’t barricaded it. I’ve placed a vehicle in the way so nobody can sneak by, along with two guards.”
“I’ll reimburse you for that,” Brett says. “That really isn’t on you guys.”
“Just give Alpine Falls a plug when you’re outta here back in Nashville,” George replies. “That’s all the payment we’ll need.”
He glances at me, then back to George. “I’m not sure I’m gonna be goin’ back in the long or short term.”
My heart skips a beat. “Y-you’re not?” I stammer.
“Well.” He brings my hand up to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’m hopin’ a little lady around these parts might consider lettin’ me stay a while longer?”
I want to scream, cry, jump into his arms, but I can’t with present company staring at us. “Um, okay, sure?”
Izzy snorts. “Jeez, Bails, sound a little more enthusiastic, we can turn around if you’d like to kiss,” she whisper-shouts behind the back of her hand to Brett and adds, “She’s not one to wear her heart on her sleeve.” In case he didn’t already get the picture, she winks for good measure.
Brett just chuckles. “I’m startin’ to get to know the signs.”
“Is it one blink for yes, two for no?” George cajoles.
Funny fuckers.
I flip him the bird, but turn to smile sweetly at Brett. “What I meant was, of course you can stay. I’d love that.”
“Aww.” Izzy clasps her hands together and makes gooey noises. “But can you guys hurry up and kiss or whatever, I’m starving and the food smells really good.”
Brett leans toward me and pecks me on the lips. “I’ll get us some plates.”
I’m not good at showing affection around other people, and Brett seems to understand that. I’m sure I’ll get used to it, but the fact Izzy is wiggling her eyebrows at me suggestively doesn’t help.
I’m about to tell her off when a flash goes off to the right of me.
In two seconds, George is flying past me toward the door.
Some sneaky damn reporter just took a photo through the glass.
I’d forgotten about that small panel next to the front door, but it’s not like I’ve had to worry about something like this before.
When Brett follows George, he turns and says, “Stay here, Brett. I’ll handle this, you coming out is exactly what they want.”
I’m sure this is nothing, I tell myself. Nothing compared to what really goes on in the real world. I haven’t even had a taste of it yet, but I know that if it means I’ll get to be with Brett, then it’s a challenge I can overcome.