Girl With Guitar (21 page)

“C
laire
Ann, it has to be you,” she pleaded. “He knows Rae will lie for me and he’ll suspect something.”

“Kylie, are you sure this is the right thing to do? You know how he feels about surprises.” The tone of her voice made it clear she was less than excited to be a part of Kylie’s plan. But after what had happened this morning, there was no way Kylie was going to back out now.

“Claire Ann, I got a call from a place called Eternal Marble Memories today. Trace paid for my dad’s headstone to surprise me. We have…unfinished business.” That was putting it mildly. “I really need to see him. Please, will you help me?”

A sigh came from the other end of the line and couldn’t help but smile into the phone. “What do I have to do?”

After she’d explained her plan, she held her breath, waiting for Claire Ann’s response.

“You owe me,” Trace’s older sister told her.

“I know.”

S
everal
hours later, Kylie struggled to stay awake on Trace’s couch in his mini studio. She was glad to see that at some point he’d finished the wiring in the recording room because they were going to need it.

When she heard a key turning in the lock she jumped and sat up on the couch, faced the door, and waited. Her whole body tingled nearly to the point of twitching in anticipation.
Please do not let him have filed those contracts.
Her heart had a plea of its own.
Please let him be alone and let him be happy to see me.

The man who stepped through the doorway was carrying a baseball bat. Oh hell.

“Trace?” she asked timidly, unable to see clearly in the dark. It was nearly eleven o’clock.

“Kylie?” he asked, lowering the bat. Thank God.

“Hey.”

He flicked on a lamp and she could see that he was exhausted. His five o’clock shadow was well on into its evening, his clothes were wrinkled to hell and back, and his hair was a mess.

“Rough night?” she asked.

“Rough life,” Trace answered, stepping slowly towards her.

“Yeah, same here,” she said softly.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but can I ask what you’re doing here?”

“You know I always have to have the last word,” she said, smiling up at him.

He arched an eyebrow but said nothing.

“I told you when I was out of a job you’d come home to find me crashed out on this couch.”

Trace cleared his throat. “I guess I didn’t realize you were serious.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t at the time.”

He lowered himself onto the loveseat across from her. “Wait, what do you mean you’re out of a job? I heard you were doing some Flavored Water tour.”

“Vitamin Water,” she corrected. “And I was. Or I am. At least, I hope I am. That’s kind of why I’m here.”

Trace’s dark brows dipped as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not following.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing a very good job of explaining.” Kylie composed herself the best she could and continued. “You were right about…some things. I should’ve listened.” Her mouth went dry. She hadn’t expected it to be this hard. Songs she could write all day. Telling people off when they were acting like asses, no problem. But admitting she was wrong and had royally screwed up sucked. Trying to do it in the presence of the man who smelled like heaven and happened to be sexy as hell? Damn near impossible.

“Which
things
would you be referring to, specifically?” Trace asked, eyeing her with interest and uncrossing his arms.

Breathe, Kylie. Just say what you came to say.
“My getting signed to The Random Road Trip Tour was contingent upon me having a single out, and there really isn’t time to make that happen. But Chaz pulled some strings and the people in charge of booking for the tour said it would be enough if I had at least recorded a song with you, specifically the one that we wrote together. The one I signed away all rights to without so much as mentioning it to my manager.”

Tears began to gather behind her eyes as she realized what a truly stupid and selfish thing she had done by letting her emotions get the best of her. “I don’t have an agent yet, so Chaz was working really hard to help me and I…screwed up.” Kylie choked down the sob trying to escape before it could break free.

Trace raked a hand roughly over his stubbled jaw. His probing glare implored her to keep talking. “I’m guessing since you paid for my father’s headstone, which I’d like to pay you back for by the way, that you’ve already given the papers I signed to the label. Look, I know you don’t owe me any favors—”

“Whoa, hold up a sec. Please tell me what in the ever-loving fuck my paying for your dad’s headstone has to do with my giving those papers to the label?” Trace’s voice was edged with something that sounded an awful lot like anger.

“I may have done some stupid stuff since you’ve known me, Trace, but I am actually not a complete idiot. You overpaid me for the tour because you felt guilty for sleeping with me. You sent a memorial company entirely too much money for my dad’s headstone because you felt bad for submitting the paperwork that ensured I wouldn’t be able to record our song. Surely you knew that would be damaging to me in some way. Even Pauly practically chewed me out for signing them without reading them or consulting Chaz first.” And yet, she’d done it anyways.

Trace leaned forward and Kylie’s head reeled from the closeness. His cologne surrounded her, and the fact that she didn’t smell liquor on him made her wonder where he’d been all night. “You know, for a smart girl, you sure do say some dumb shit sometimes.”

Kylie flinched at the harsh words.

“First,” he began, sticking up his index finger. “You were not overpaid for the tour. You were given the exact amount agreed upon, which you would know if you’d bothered to Read. The. Damned. Contract.” He paused and shook his head. “Second,” he continued, adding another finger to the count, “I sure as hell don’t feel guilty for sleeping with you. I feel bad about the way things went down, yes, but not for anything other than that. Unless you tell me right now, to my face, that you regret it, I will never feel anything but sheer joy about what happened that night.” Trace leaned back and waited for her to say it. But she couldn’t because she didn’t. She couldn’t keep still under the intensity of his stare either, so she squirmed and looked away. He continued with his counting. “And third, I paid for the headstone because I wanted to. Because I owe something to the man who raised the only woman I’ve ever known who can put me in my place. In fact, I owe him a hell of a lot more than that.”

Just like that, the delicate layer left protecting Kylie’s heart began to shatter, splintering and cracking like ice over a flame. Her dad would’ve liked Trace. A lot, probably. But they would never meet.

“Trace.” A sob escaped her throat, so Kylie clamped her mouth shut and put her hand over it. There was so much, too much, she wanted to say. To ask, to understand. She couldn’t let it all out at once or it would crush them both.

The beautiful man across from her sighed and reached out to touch her cheek. “Kylie, you were right about a lot of things. But so was I. And we were both wrong about a few things, too.”

“You brought that girl to my party,” she choked out. Because underneath it all, that was bothering her the most.

“So you could meet her and see that there was nothing going on between us. She was excited to meet you. She was a fan until you got all up in her face with that damned song. Well played, by the way.”

“You called me a shitty life choice.” She tried to lower her head, but his fingers pressed her chin upward, forcing her to keep facing him.

“I called all the stupid-ass decisions I made that drew media attention to my family before I even met you shitty life choices. You just never stuck around to listen to my explanation.”

Oh God. Kylie jerked back from his touch, pulling her knees up and lowering her face to meet them. “Never mind. Forget everything I said. I actually am a complete idiot,” she mumbled without looking up.

“No you’re not. You just feel first and think second. I love that about you actually. But sometimes it can get your cute little ass into trouble.”

Her head snapped up at his words. “You kept saying no one cared, that it was just business, and I kept hearing
you
didn’t care and it was just sex.”

“Well…I do care. And if you think that was just sex, then I must’ve done something wrong.”

“But Darla—”

“Fuck Darla.”

Kylie snorted. “Half of Oklahoma already has.”

“There’s my girl.” Trace chuckled and shook his head. “Look, she caught me off guard and I lost it a little. By the time I came to my senses and saw it for what it was, you were writing me off as a fling and I didn’t know what to do about it. So I got drunk, because that’s always been my fallback.” Trace raked a hand through his hair. “And then we really screwed each other, and not in the hot, mind-blowingly amazing way like we did here. More like in the excruciatingly painful, break-each-other-into-a-million-pieces way. But I never wanted to hurt you, Kylie. Even if it was just fling for you, I’ll never be sorry that we did what we did, and I’ll never try to hurt your chances of having a career.”

He’d thrown so much information at her that she wasn’t sure what to respond to first. Instinct said feelings first. Act on feelings—kiss him, throw self at him. Repeat.
Now.
But she was learning. She had to stop feeling first and thinking second. That was what had gotten her into this mess to begin with. Handle the business first, heart second.

She wiped away a tear that was in the process of escaping onto her cheek. “If you really don’t want to hurt me, talk to the label. Convince them to tear up the contracts and let us record the song together so that I can get on this tour and get my manager back. Please.”

It was the wrong thing to respond to first. Kylie could tell by the way his bright eyes went dim and the obvious effort it took for him to smile at her.

“I, um, still have the papers. I didn’t give them to anyone. And even if I had, they don’t say what you think they do.” Trace stood and walked over to a table with several folders on it. He grabbed one and came back to her with it extended.

She took the folder and opened it, relief washing over her when she recognized her signature.

“I knew you wouldn’t read them, hothead that you are. After you signed them and Pauly gave them to me, I had to admit to myself how low it was for me to have lost it on you for lying and then turned around and tricked you into signing something saying you’d record with me. It was shitty, I know, but I just couldn’t forget the way it felt that night. With you. Here. Writing and knowing how great we could be together.” He cleared his throat. They’d done a lot more than just writing. “I’ve never been a relationship kind of man. But being with you here made me want to try.” Trace huffed out a huge breath as if he’d been carrying the burden of those words for far too long.

There was so much unfiltered honesty in his words that she was high on it. So much so that it made her lightheaded. “Wait, these say that I’ll record the song with you? Pauly said—”

“Pauly lied…for me. He works for me, remember?”

So that was why he’d run out of the diner like his ass was on fire. Kylie couldn’t help but grin. “You know, now that I think about it, he’s not that great of a liar. He tried his damnedest to get me to read these.”

“Not everyone can be as good at it as you and me.” Trace laughed but it was empty laughter. She wondered if it was because he thought this was all she came for.

“The morning of my birthday, you left before…” she took a deep breath, hoping she’d suck in some of his courage along with it.

“Before?” Trace prompted, lowering himself back onto the couch across from her.

“Before I could tell you that I care about you, too.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Trace went completely still. For a full minute he stared long and hard at her. Kylie sat up straight and braced herself for whatever was coming.

“I’m seeing someone,” he said quietly.

Her shoulders sagged and she fought with everything she had to keep the corners of her mouth from turning down. Why did she have to be so damn stupid? Mia Montgomery. He was seeing her now. His declaration stole the air from her lungs so she inhaled deeply before speaking.

“Okay,” Kylie said swallowing and nodding. This was it. She’d given it everything she had. And it was just over. Men like Trace didn’t sit around and wait for girls like her to figure out what they wanted. She stifled a shiver as reality crashed cold and hard all over her. “Well, I’m happy for you,” she choked out. The walls closed in and she just wanted to get the hell out of there. Her mind began plotting the best escape route.
Hold on a damn minute, hothead
, she scolded herself. “We can still record the song, right? As friends?”

“About my drinking,” Trace added slowly. “I don’t want to be my father, so I’ve been talking to an addiction specialist that’s a friend of Pauly’s. And you were right. Claire Ann, Rae, and you, Kylie—you all deserve better.”

She waited for the punch line but he didn’t say anything else. “So you are or you aren’t dating Mia Montgomery?” she asked, side-eying him with a glare.

“No, I’m not dating anyone. But see how it feels to be lied to and toyed with?” he laughed. And the fist gripping Kylie’s heart finally let go. So she chucked a square throw pillow at his head.

“You are not a nice boy,” she said pointing a finger at him.

“Never said I was,” he told her as he leaned in dangerously close. Kylie breathed in the clean familiar scent of cologne and Trace.

“No more lies,” she mumbled against his lips as they brushed hers.

“Uh huh,” Trace murmured against hers before leaning back, denying her the kiss she wanted more than air. “So you’re telling me Claire Ann really thinks someone broke in here?”

“No. She knows someone did…because I told her I was going to.” Kylie laughed and pulled him back to her. “Wait, I’m doing it again. Feeling first and thinking second. There’s no time for kissing! We have a song to record because, if Chaz can forgive me and the Vitamin Water people agree, I’m leaving for my tour Friday morning.”

“I feel so cheap and used.” He laughed again, his real laugh, the deep throaty one that sent chills racing up her spine and filled her with warmth all at once. It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. It filled her with the same intoxicating mixture of contentment and excitement that hearing her dad play guitar always had.

“Good, I plan to use you up every chance I get,” she teased just before placing a lingering kiss firmly on his lips.

“This is really what you want then? To be with a burned out has-been even though you’re going on tour and about to become a huge star?” His hands slid up the sides of her shirt as he pulled her into his lap.

“More than anything,” she told him, resting her forehead on his. And it was the truth.

“Good, because I wasn’t going to let you leave this room if you said no, and there is
always
time for kissing.” He twisted a hand into her hair and claimed her mouth with the deepest kiss of her life. When his warm, wet tongue lashed against hers, Kylie whimpered and bit down gently on his bottom lip.

Trace pulled back from their kiss again just as she was losing herself in it completely. “Wait, now we need to talk about something really important.”

“What?” She groaned, praying this wasn’t going to be something that ruined the euphoric high about to carry her away.

“About those sexy shirt-earning mechanical bull riding skills of yours…”

“Down, boy,” Kylie told him, brushing her nose playfully against his and kissing him once more as her heart swelled with happiness. “We have a song to record.”