Chapter 42
ANNALISE
Reggie Beckett is not what I was expecting.
He’s an older man with a blinding aura of sophistication and thoughtfulness.
Dressed in a pink-and-red checked shirt and light-washed jeans with worn fabric down the thighs, he takes a seat across from Brody and me at the dining table.
A matching red fedora rests beside Brody’s hat and the steamy mug of coffee I prepared for him.
I play with my fingers beneath the table, nerves rattling me right to the bone. Brody didn’t expect Reggie to be the one who flew down to speak to him, but it was a pleasant surprise. According to him, the alternatives were far, far worse.
“You have a lovely home, Brody. This place is definitely a marvel,” Reggie says, attempting to break the ice.
Brody nods tightly, leaning his elbows on the table, hands clasped tight in front of them. “A home this beautiful makes it hard to leave.”
I wince at the brutal honesty in the words. The air’s been tense, charged with unspoken worry and nerves, from the moment I opened the door and welcomed Reggie into the second home on Steele Ranch. It’s so unusual for Brody to be this frazzled, and I’m struggling to figure out how to calm him.
He isn’t worried because he regrets what he did yesterday. I believed him when he said he would easily do it again. It’s something else, and if I had to guess, I’d say he’s expecting the worst from this surprise meeting. For the label to wipe their hands of him, maybe.
He’s been home for too long. Lost them far too much money when he left the tour, and now .
. . now he’s already back. I don’t know the details that were discussed in Nashville, and not because he’s hidden them from me but because we haven’t had the time to talk about much.
It’s been one thing after the other since he left.
Most of which come back to me.
It was my getting followed by a reporter that brought him back home so soon after leaving, and it was my ex-fiancé that had Swift Edge management rushing here not long after. Guilt is eating me up inside, one savage chunk after the other.
If he were to lose everything he’s worked his entire life for, I don’t know what I’d do. What we’d do.
Reggie doesn’t reveal a single thing in his expression. He’s calm and gentle, far too much so considering the heavy topics that have to be coming.
“I can’t say I’d want to leave much either with a home like this. I can’t blame you for that. Life is unfair this way, though. It would be much easier if we could have everything we want where we want it, no?” he asks.
I’d have expected the sentiment to be spoken in a snarky way, like a parent scolding a child for being stubborn, but there’s nothing like that in his tone. I believe that Reggie truly feels that way. It’s unjudgmental and honest.
“It sure as shit would, Reggie,” Brody replies.
I press my knee to his, and he reaches beneath the table to hold my thigh. His palm is hot, burning through my jeans and acting as a sharp reminder that he wants me here with him. We’re in this together. Emotion builds in my throat, threatening to choke me.
“I’m sorry there wasn’t much notice of my arrival. I wanted to give you a couple of days to sort through the most recent events, but you know my son. It was a useless effort. I do hope my call this morning was alright, however.”
“It was better than nothing,” Brody says. “Thank you.”
Reggie shifts his attention to me, smiling kindly. “And of course, I’m grateful to have a chance to meet you, sweet Annalise. You’re far more beautiful than Brody explained to me.”
“Is that right, Brody?” I sneak a look at him, and my stomach jumps at the blatant affection in that waiting blue stare.
He drifts his thumb along my outer thigh, and I have to fight back a shiver. “It’s not my fault your beauty isn’t possible to explain.”
I could sit here and flirt with this man for all hours of the day. But we can’t. And the reminder of why we’re all sitting here is enough to sober me up.
“Thank you both for the compliments. But we should focus on the real reason for this meeting.”
“You’re right. I always tend to drift off topic in my old age,” Reggie scolds himself.
“I’ll be blunt with this. You’re talented, Brody.
Incredibly so. Swift Edge only takes the best of the best, and I’m honoured to have worked with you.
I want to keep working with you. But I think the question I need to ask you right now is if you want to keep working with me . With the label as a whole.”
The question smacks down on the table, alarm bells blaring. I tense, and Brody feels it. He splays his fingers out on my thigh and rubs it in small circles. But this isn’t about me, and I attempt to put on a brave face.
“Of course I do, Reg. I want to make music for the rest of my life. That’s not the problem,” Brody answers.
Reggie purses his lips, considering that. “Then please, explain to me what is so we can move past this. Garrison is growing antsy. We need a plan, something we can bring him if you want to continue to work with us.”
“The tour. I don’t know if I can commit to that. Not right now. I’ve got a lot goin’ for me up here in Cherry Peak.”
“What tour?” I blurt out.
Reggie glances between me and Brody. It feels like there’s a lot to unpack right here. I shove away my panic and attempt to keep a level head.
“It wouldn’t be a world tour right away, Brody. This isn’t our first rodeo, so to speak. We know you may need baby steps. Most artists do. You remember how it was with Killian,” Reggie says, each word chosen carefully. For Brody’s benefit or mine, I’m unsure.
“Yeah, I do. And that’s why I’m sayin’ no. It was easier to hop on a tour bus and not care when I’d be home a few months ago. Before—” He stalls, and I flinch. An obvious physical reaction to hearing that he’s turning down this step in his career because of me.
My chest cracks, guilt slithering through.
“Before I had someone here waitin for me,” he finishes.
“You aren’t the only artist out there with a family at home. Plenty of people make it work. Killian, for example,” Reggie says.
“I’m not talkin’ about other artists. I’m talkin’ about me, and I’m tellin’ you that I don’t know if I can commit to it.”
I start to gnaw on the inside of my lip, nervous as all hell.
There’s no way I can let him give this up for me.
I’d never forgive myself. Who knows if he’d ever forgive me either.
What happens in ten years when he tires of working on the ranch and realizes he could still be living his dream if he hadn’t given it up just to stay close to me?
Not only that, but he hasn’t stopped for one minute since apparently making up his mind to even ask me how I’d feel about all of this.
Because if he had, I would have told him that the distance wouldn’t matter.
That we’d make it work because I think what we have is worth the effort.
But he didn’t. He made these choices on behalf of both of us, and I refuse to take that sitting down.
My guilt begins to twist into frustration. A dangerous mixture that’s bound to cause trouble. I shift my leg, and Brody’s hand falls from it. The lack of his touch helps clear my mind, even if I’m already struggling not to put it right back where it was.
Reggie seems to read me better than I anticipated. He pushes the conversation along instead of feeding into Brody’s declaration.
“Don’t make that decision yet. There’s more we need to talk about today. The man you punched yesterday, for one. PR is already on top of it, but we got lucky this time. Next time, it may not be so easy. While I understand why it happened, I can’t say my son does.”
“Yesterday was my fault. Stewart was only there because of me and some sick sense of jealousy. He’s gone now and won’t be back,” I say.
Reggie waves me off with a warm smile. “Don’t apologize.
As I said, his complaint was easily dismissed.
When it comes to Spencer Sharp, however, I’d like to apologize to you, Annalise, on behalf of Swift Edge.
We didn’t think the tabloids would have sent someone out so quickly.
That was a mistake on our part, and you can rest assured that it won’t happen again,” he says, attention fixed solely on me.
I attempt a weak smile in return. “Thank you. It was just a bit of a surprise. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Don’t worry about it.”
“Yes, they should worry about it,” Brody grits out, avoiding looking my way. “I won’t have this shit happenin’ here again. Not to my family. Public figure or not, I don’t care. You have any idea how terrifyin’ it was to have a man tailin’ my woman in the dark?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and reach for his hand on the table.
Fuck my frustration—it doesn’t matter when I hear the desperation in his tone.
For the first time since sitting down with Reggie, I’m wondering if maybe I’ve overlooked the true reason behind Brody’s denial to go on tour.
Brody is the most protective man I’ve ever met, and the thought of leaving me here for long stretches of time without him after the other day must terrify him.
“Brody,” I murmur.
His throat works with a tight swallow as he stares at Reggie. I’d have thought he didn’t hear me had he not flipped his hand and linked our fingers.
“What do you want me to do? Do you want security here watching Anna? We’ve already threatened legal action with Country Capital and Spencer.
News will spread that Cherry Peak isn’t the place to be hunting for secrets.
But tell me what else you need, and we’ll do it,” Reggie offers, and I truly do believe he’ll do anything to keep Brody as a Swift Edge artist.
Maybe that’s what has fear zipping up my spine and words exploding from my mouth. “No security. I don’t want it.”
Brody whips his head in my direction, lips parted, clearly surprised by my outburst. “What? Why not? It would help settle me a bit to know you’re always bein’ looked after.”
“I’m not a child in need of taking care of. I’ve never needed that,” I argue.
The terrified look in his eyes devastates me.
“One day. I was gone for one day, and not only were you accosted by a reporter lookin’ for a scoop on me, but your good-for-nothin’ ex shows up wantin’ you back.
How am I supposed to leave you knowin’ shit like that can happen at any given moment?
What if I’m too far away next time to get back quick? ”
“I’m not having my freedom stripped away, Brody. I’ve found a life here. Started something really, really good. With you, but also with the girls and my job. I don’t want to lose those good things.”
I’m only half-aware that Reggie is still here, watching silently. It would be better to wait until he’s gone, but I can’t seem to tell myself to stop talking.
“I won’t live my life out of fear. Not of snoopy reporters or a guy from my past who’s long gone by now. More stuff is going to pop up, but shouldn’t it be my choice how we handle it? You’re forgetting that I have a say in this relationship too.”
“I’m staying in a motel a town over. Call me tomorrow. We’ll talk more,” Reggie says softly, taking his leave without waiting for a response from either of us. I offer him a parting, wince-like smile regardless. It’s all I can manage as he leaves us in the kitchen.
The front door clicks shut.
Brody tightens his grip on my fingers, as if reassuring himself that I’m still here.
That I wasn’t the one to leave. “You do have a say, Anna. You do. But I can’t—I just—fuck.
I don’t know what I’m doin’. I’ve spent a huge chunk of life runnin’ from Cherry Peak.
Of pretendin it wasn’t home. Now, I’m finally back and so damn happy here, and I’m supposed to give it all up again? I can’t do it. I can’t lose you.”
I shake my head furiously. “The only way you’ll lose me is if you try and lock me up in a padded box.
I love so many things about you, Brody Steele, especially your protectiveness.
Please don’t make me resent you for the same trait that played a part in me falling in love with you.
All you have to do is ask me what I’m willing to do for you and us.
What I’m willing to give to make this work.
It doesn’t have to be all on you.” I’m both begging and telling him, my voice thick with a million emotions.
He pulls our linked hands to his chest, rubbing them over his heart. I exhale, hating the way the simple action makes my eyes burn.
“What are you willin’ to do for us, sweetheart? Because there isn’t anythin’ I’m not prepared to sacrifice to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“It’s rude to continuously steal someone’s thunder, you know?” I ask.
“What?”
“That’s the exact same thing I was going to tell you.
There isn’t anything I’m not willing to do.
You need me to join you every few shows on the road?
I’ll be there. You need me to fly out for days at a time while you record?
I’ll make the time. Late-night video chats?
You’ve got it.” I press our hands to my lips and kiss each of his knuckles.
“I love you. I love you enough to beg you not to give up your dream. Not for me or your family and not for this place, even as beautiful as it may be.”
His brows knit together, eyelids closing. I can feel the heat from his breath on my face, both of us leaning in until our foreheads meet. I bump his nose and cup his bearded jaw with my free hand. Love swells in my chest like a balloon so close to bursting.
“I need you to go to Nashville, Brody. I need you to go and figure everything out and give it a chance,” I add, my voice little more than a whisper.
He peels his eyes open, those pretty blues dulled with worry. “I’ll go. So long as you’re here when I get back.”
“Always. I’ll always be here waiting for you.”
I’ve never meant anything more.