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“Yes and no.” She knew Lee would understand. She was torn between needing a friend and trying to go it alone, a place she was sure he’d been before. Maybe that’s why he was so easy to talk to.

“I’m not gonna push,” Lee said, raising a hand. “If you don’t want—”

“Would you like to go to Jimmy’s for a drink?” She hadn’t intended to extend the invitation, but she didn’t want to go home.

“I don’t drink.”

She had noticed he’d stuck to pop and water at his party, but she’d assumed that was because he was driving. “You had a problem with alcohol too?” She hoped she wasn’t overstepping her bounds. They were in a good place, and she didn’t want to risk that by offending him.

“I had a problem with substances,” Lee said, looking her in the eye. “I have an addictive personality. I don’t believe in tempting fate.”

“That’s very commendable,” Indie said with a smile. The more she learned about Lee, the more she realized she’d misjudged him. He was the good guy his sister-in-law and brother claimed he was. That left her in the uncomfortable position of having to figure out how to deal with her growing feelings for him.

“But I will join you at Jimmy’s. I don’t feel much like going home either.”

“Great,” Indie said, reaching into her desk drawer for her purse. “I’ll meet you there?”

“Why don’t I drive you?”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, thinking about how she’d felt in the cab of his truck last night: scared and thrilled at the same time.

“You said you’d like to have a drink. I’d feel better if you weren’t driving.”

Gripping her keys, Indie tried to pretend her heart hadn’t swelled to twice its normal size at his innocuous comment. He wasn’t flirting with her; he was merely trying to be a considerate friend, she reminded herself. “It’s nice of you to offer, but one drink’s usually my limit.”

“I’d still like to drive you,” he said, standing.

“Are you always so stubborn?”

“Depends.” He shrugged. “If something’s important to me, I rarely stop until I get what I want.”

The way he looked at her made her feel as if all of the oxygen had evaporated from her tiny office. “And this is important to you?”

“Yes.” He held out his hand. “Now hand over your keys. I’ll hold on to them. You’ll get them back if I’m satisfied that you can drive yourself home.”

Indie couldn’t help but laugh. It had been years since anyone had cared about her personal safety, but his nurturing side was a pleasant surprise. She dropped her keys into his hand. “Your poor daughter. I can only imagine how rough she’s going to have it when she starts dating. A ten o’clock curfew?”

With a grin, he fisted the keys, made his way to the door, and held it open for her. “That sounds about right.”

Indie rolled her eyes, hoping he couldn’t see her smile when his hand moved to the small of her back.

Lee hadn’t intended to spend the evening with Indie, but when he’d looked out the window and seen her car in the parking lot, he was drawn to her office like a moth to a flame. He hadn’t been able to keep his head in the game all day. His thoughts kept drifting back to her when his attention should have been on adding value to a team focused on making great music.

At Jimmy’s, J.T. approached their table, and Lee cringed. He didn’t want to talk about J.T.’s offer because, truth be told, when he wasn’t thinking about Indie at work, he was thinking about J.T.’s offer to sell Jimmy’s.

“Hey, buddy,” J.T. said, shaking Lee’s hand. “I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

Lee laughed, hoping J.T. would let it go at that. “We just came in to grab a burger after work. J.T., this is my friend Indie. Indie, this is J.T McCall. He owns the place.”

“It’s nice to meet you, J.T.,” Indie took his hand with a smile. “I’ve seen you behind the bar a few times.”

“Nice to meet you too,” J.T. said with a grin. “Drake’s mentioned you. You don’t forget a name like Indie.”

“No, I guess you don’t,” she said, chuckling.

J.T. tipped his cowboy hat back so he could look Indie in the eye. “According to Drake, he couldn’t get along without you.”

“That’s sweet of him to say,” Indie said, glancing at Lee. “But he was managing just fine before I came to work for him.”

“That’s debatable,” Lee said, winking at her. He loved the way she blushed when he caught her off guard. “Trust me, my brother’s much better off with you.”

“So, listen,” J.T. said, hooking a thumb toward the stage. “The lead singer of the band I’ve got here tonight has a sore throat. He’s not sure he’s gonna make it through his whole set, and I was hoping you could sit in for a couple of songs.”

Lee’s throat went dry. “Uh, I don’t think so. I don’t perform for an audience.”

“Consider it a personal favor.” J.T. fisted his hands on the table as he leaned in. “I’d really owe you one, man.”

Lee was a sucker for his friends, and they all knew it. “I don’t even have my guitar.”

“You can use his. He’d be grateful for the break.”

“You should do it,” Indie said, her bright eyes shining. “I’d love to hear you sing.”

“Good, it’s settled then,” J.T. said, rubbing his hands. “I’ll let him know.”

Lee grabbed J.T.’s forearm. “Wait, I didn’t say I’d do it.”

“You want to. I can tell.”

Did he?
In spite of his fear of making a fool of himself, he did feel a certain excitement about taking the stage again. “Fine, I’ll do it, but the band can take a break too. I’ve got this.” If he was going to perform, he wanted to test some original material:
go big or go home.

“Cool, I’ll tell them.” He slapped Lee on the back. “Thanks for doing this for me. You’re really helpin’ me out.”

“I can’t wait to hear you sing,” Indie said, reaching for her second drink.

When she’d ordered, Lee teased her about the song “Whisky Girl.” According to her, she liked the burn, and she couldn’t get that from a glass of wine or champagne.

“I may get up there and make an ass out of myself.” Lee was surprised how easy it was for him to admit his fears to Indie. “But you know what they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?”

“What do you hope to gain?” Indie asked.

“Nothing.” He shrugged, pretending he didn’t feel as though his self-worth was hanging in the balance. He’d poured his heart and soul into the songs he was about to perform. They had been written during one of the darkest times in his life, before he was ready to admit he needed help if he wanted to see another birthday.

“I don’t believe you,” she said, her mouth turning up on one side. “I think your music means a lot to you. That’s why Drake and Cassidy gave you that guitar.”

Lee could brush off Indie’s question, but instead he found himself saying, “Music saved me after my parents died. I didn’t know how I’d get through that.”

“But it wasn’t enough to keep your demons locked inside forever?”

He considered her question. No one had ever referred to his past that way, but that’s exactly how it had felt to him. In the throes of his addiction, he felt as though a demon was inside of him making him do things he didn’t want to do. He felt powerless, useless. “No, I guess it wasn’t.”

“How does it make you feel?” Indie propped her chin in her upturned palm. “Making music and performing?”

“I can’t speak to the performing part,” Lee said with a self-conscious chuckle. “It’s been so long since I’ve been on a stage that I forget what that feels like. As for song writing, it’s always been kind of cathartic for me.”

“Why haven’t you sold any of your songs?” she asked, tipping her glass back to drain it.

Lee watched the creamy expanse of her neck as her silky hair fell behind her shoulders. He didn’t want to be attracted to her, but he was fighting a losing battle. She was gorgeous, charming, and attentive. He’d have to be on life support to ignore that.

“Hello?” Indie said. “You still with me?”

“Uh yeah, sorry.” He shook his head. “My mind was somewhere else for a minute.”

“I could tell.”

Their eyes locked, their mutual attraction making it difficult to breathe.

Lee forced his gaze from her lips as he licked his own. “I, uh… could never sell those songs. They’re a part of me. They tell my life story.”

“Now I’m really intrigued.” Indie’s booted foot connected with his leg under the table. “Does that mean I might get a little more insight into the real Lee Elliott tonight?”

Getting up on stage and baring his soul, especially with Indie in the audience, was what scared him the most. “You know how it is, creative license and all. Songs, like books, are often a mix of imagination and life experience.”

“Is that so? Kind of like journaling, huh?” She looked down. “I have a bit of experience with that. When I started going to a support group, they suggested journaling to, you know, get your thoughts, feelings, and fears out. I even wrote a letter to him, not that I ever mailed it.”

“Maybe you should have,” Lee said. “It might have helped.”

“Men like that don’t feel guilty or show remorse.”

Lee would have asked what she meant, but J.T. was calling him to the stage. Lee gave her a lop-sided grin. “Wish me luck.”

“You know I do.”

He rushed through the crowd to avoid being harassed by his friends and acquaintances. He didn’t know if he should be grateful or horrified to see friendly faces in the crowd. He supposed it would depend on their reaction.

“Thanks, y’all,” he said, sitting on the stool in front of the microphone. He reached for the acoustic guitar the other singer had left for him. “You know, back in the day, they used to put a cage around singers in honky tonks just in case the crowd got a little crazy and started throwing beer bottles to shut the poor guy up.” He chuckled when one of his buddies raised a beer bottle. “I’m kind of wishing I had one of those around me tonight. I haven’t performed in front of a crowd in a hell of a long time. In fact, I’m just doin’ this tonight to help out a friend, so go easy on me.”

Lee saw Indie staring at him. She flashed him a smile and gave him a thumbs up. Surprisingly, that small gesture eased the knot of tension in his stomach.

“So I thought I’d share a couple of my own songs with y’all tonight. I hope you like them.” He strummed his guitar softly. “The first one is called ‘Going Home.’ It’s about a time in my life when I felt pretty alone. I’d just lost my parents and was trying to figure out how to cope. I’m sure many of you can relate.” Lee swallowed, wishing he’d brought a bottle of water on stage with him. He feared he may be babbling, and he decided it was time…

There’s no way back when you get lost and can’t find a landmark

When the road seems deserted and pitch dark.

You want to see that light burning in the window

But when you don’t, baby, you got nowhere else to go.

There’s no shelter from the storm, no light to guide you home

That’s when you realize you’re lost and all alone.

Your friends are miles away, old neighbors all long gone

So you pull over on the road and fall asleep ‘til dawn.

You wake up hopin’ light will guide you on your way

But there’s still nowhere for you to go, nowhere to stay.

Hours turn into days, weeks turn into years

Before you look in the mirror after a dozen beers.

There’s no way back when you get lost and can’t find a landmark

When the road seems deserted and pitch dark.

You want to see that light burning in the window

But when you don’t, baby, you got nowhere else to go.

You don’t recognize your own face, the lines all seem new

You’ve been tellin’ yourself too many lies, now you have to face the truth.

You don’t belong, you never did and never will again

Now you have to look at where you’re goin’ and where you’ve just been.

The heart needs a home, a family, and some friends

That’s what helps you on the road with all its sharp bends.

You find a place to belong, or carve one out of stone

It doesn’t matter, as long as the day ends with you going home.

***

Indie had hoped to make it to the restroom before Lee saw her crying, but she couldn’t leave their table. Her eyes were glued to him as he accepted congratulations from his friends. She even noticed a few women slipping business cards into his hand.

“You were amazing,” she said, jumping out of her seat when he approached her. On impulse, she gave him a hug. “Seriously amazing. That song, ‘Going Home,’ was one of the best I’ve ever heard.” If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he wrote it for her, to describe her journey after she left her home, family, and friends. Although they’d traveled different paths and he had a dozen years of life experience on her, they weren’t as different as she’d thought.

“Thanks,” he said, hugging her back. “That song means a lot to me. I’m glad you liked it.” He pulled back, looking down at her.

Her attraction to him, coupled with a magnetic pull she’d never experienced, made her want to ask him if he felt it too. Was her imagination conjuring up a mutual longing that wasn’t there? Was he just trying to be a friend, someone to confide in so she could move past her pain?

“Will you dance with me?” she asked, reaching for his hand. She felt as if she was trying to coax Lee to join her on a cliff’s edge and close his eyes while they leapt together.

Lee glanced at the couples on the dance floor. A disc jockey had taken over entertaining the crowd and slowed things down with a ballad. He linked her hand with his. “Sure.”

Indie felt a thrill of anticipation as she stepped into his arms. She hadn’t felt comfortable enough to allow a man to hold her in so long that she’d almost forgotten how wonderful it could feel.