My gasp is so long and drawn out that I almost choke. “No way. You sing?”
“And play the guitar,” he adds.
Of course Reeve plays guitar. How cliché for all of my wildest fantasies to come true in this small-town dream.
“Holy shit!” I exclaim. “You’re so much better than any country star.”
His chuckle is throaty and rich. “You might change your mind. You haven’t heard me yet.”
“Nope, my opinion is locked in.”
“So long as you think so.” He perches on a stool, doing a practice pass along the strings. A hint of a smirk tilts his lips as he makes a few adjustments. “I’m a tad rusty.”
I fold my hands together and park them under my chin. “Please play for me, farmer.”
“That’s the idea, babe.” I find the subtle tremble in his voice as he collects himself endearing.
A tingle zips up my spine as he slides out the opening notes. I will not swoon. I won’t, dammit. But then he begins to sing, and I become a freaking puddle melting between the restored baseboards, a total goner as my knees quake to the sinful melody of his effortless vocals. I sway from the impact and lower into a crouch as my legs surrender to this losing battle. A quiet sigh escapes my jaw from the confines of trying to keep my composure. My butt smacks the ground as I become wholly mesmerized by him. I curl my toes to avoid tackling him while he lulls me further under his spell.
He’s belting out a raw, albeit beautifully executed and captivating, rendition of “Thunder Rolls.” He could give Garth a run for his millionaire fortune. Reeve’s version is flawless and unique, just like the man slaying the familiar chorus. Country music fan or not, everyone with decent hearing knows this song. Even I can admit to appreciating the soulful tune long before leaving my city roots in a cloud of corn kernels.
Musicians were never my thing until Reeve proved to be one. This man could be my everything. I give myself an internal eye roll. As if he isn’t already. He’s all I see, now more than ever. The spotlight is his friend, a beacon to the hidden talent he’s kept buried deep. Why hasn’t he mentioned this before? I find myself wondering how often he performs and for what audience. A bright-green spot grows by the second inside of me, insisting no one else get this piece of him. How hard would it be to keep him all for myself?
I watch, breathless, while he unravels the story of a man done wrong. In this moment, I make a silent vow to remain faithful for however long he’s mine. His gaze sears into me with a ferocity that incinerates any barriers between us. Being so close to him here, in this vulnerable act, makes our temporary status unbearable. There’s no moving on from Reeve Colton. It’s never been more apparent that no one can compare to him.
Reeve’s throat strains from the effort to belt out each note. I gulp as my pulse pounds to the beat of his tapping foot. His voice is the perfect combination of gritty and smooth. The words roll out of him as if each syllable belongs to him. These chords are a personal attachment, and he’s intimately acquainted. I want him to learn each part of me this way—sensually and irrevocably. My heart already carries a tattoo of his name, the permanent mark spreading with each beat. Can I be the ballad he croons each night for the rest of our days?
I’m in a damn trance. He’s so consumed by the song, lost in the lyrics. I’m jealous of those notes he’s memorized, each run and measure gliding in harmony. Reeve’s eyes drift shut as he strikes a crucial line with shattering passion. I couldn’t look away if a swarm of blood-thirsty bats headed straight for me.
The final chords fade with a silky twang of metal strings. He lowers his face, as if needing a moment after revealing so much. After a long sigh deflates his posture, Reeve climbs off the stage, a burning sea of bright blue heading straight for me.
“Wow.” I cough to clear the smoky lust from my voice. My sluggish brain attempts to process and replay each second. “I’m no talent agent, but you’re really incredible. That was… just, wow.”
If I’m not mistaken, a blush stains his cheeks. “Nah, it’s just for fun.”
I ghost my lips over that red hue. “Well, I’m a fan.”
“You want my autograph?” He leans into my touch.
“Yes, please. But seriously, you’re crazy amazing. I’m trembling just from listening to that.”
Reeve kisses me, long and slow, leaving another permanent tattoo on my heart. “I wanted to give you something to remember me by.”
That earns him a light shove. “As if I could ever forget you. Plus, I’ll be gone for barely more than a week.”
His nose brushes mine. “It doesn’t matter. One minute is too long.”
With that, my fate is sealed. I love Reeve Colton—it’s official. Not the simple, breezy kind that’s easy to wiggle free of. Nope. I’m completely trapped and floating in a romantic bubble built for two. But only one of us stands inside, and that means I’m totally screwed.
I lift my chin at Buck to signal for another Coors. He ambles off to fetch my order with a flick of his hairy wrist. In the meantime, I polish off the one in my hand. The beer tastes worse than cigarette ash, but I guzzle it down all the same. I’m stuck in the revolving hangover phase between Christmas and the new year. My wheels have been spinning without direction since Audria left five days ago.
The stool beside me creaks with movement. “Are we just gonna sit in silence all night?”
“Feel free to find better company,” I mutter.
Gavin shoves my arm hard enough to knock me sideways. “Why’re you being such
