Hearts on Fire (4 page)

“I’m not sold on
the idea, but he seems to think it’ll be good for the CMT taping.”

“Whatever you decide
is fine with me.” He brushed his hair back from his eyes and held
her gaze. “I miss talking to you, Jessie,” he said, unable to
stop himself.

Her eyes flickered with
some unknown emotion, which vanished as quickly as it came.

“We should get to
work. Time’s a wastin’.” And with that, she turned her back on
him, moved to the center mic near the front of the stage and never
looked back.

Jessie smiled as she
admired her stylist’s handiwork in the bathroom mirror. “Nikki.
You do great work.” She ran her fingers through her artfully
tousled hair. “You know the best thing about being on tour?”

“Room service?”
Nikki said, as she stowed the various hair products away in her large
satchel. “Free Wi-Fi in the hotel?”

Jessie chuckled.
“Neither. It’s that you’re here to do my hair every day. It’s
such a luxury.”

“And one you could
afford to have back in Nashville.” Nikki shot her a wry smile. “If
you were so inclined.”

“That would cost a
fortune, and I can’t in good conscience justify that kind of
expense. Not to mention it’s just plain lazy.”

“Lazy is the last
word I’d use to describe you.” Nikki rested her hands on her
rounded stomach and smiled. “I’m amazed at how hands-on you are
when it comes to your career. Most country stars have a large
entourage to cater to their every whim. But you keep it simple.”

“Simple is better.”
Jessie rose from the chair and moved to opposite end of the bathroom
to the large closet. She pulled open the mirrored doors.

Simple living was
actually an excuse for the real reason why she didn’t spend in
excess, or live in a huge mansion, or have more than one vehicle. She
had more than enough money for all of those things, but instead of
spending her earnings on luxuries, she paid her employees well, gave
Uncle Sam his fair share, supported a charity she believed in, and
set aside a modest allowance to live on each month. The rest went
into the bank, where, except for one very important monthly payment,
she didn’t touch it. She never wanted to go back to the life she
led before Wally had discovered her busking at the Memphis Farmers
Market, and as long as she had money in her savings account, she
never would.

“What are you doing
after the tour is over?” Jessie asked, as she surveyed the clothes
hanging in the closet with a critical eye.

Wally had arranged
another meet-and-greet with the contest winners of a different radio
station, as well as a few local dignitaries. Tonight she wanted to
look polished yet approachable. She pulled her current favorite
dress—a sapphire blue sheath with an embroidered overlay—from the
closet and turned to look at Nikki. “Any special plans with that
handsome husband of yours?”

Nikki’s snort was
anything but ladylike. “He wishes. I’m gonna collapse on the
couch and sleep like the dead until the baby is born.” Her grin was
as impish as the pixie haircut she favored. “A five month nap
sounds like heaven right about now.”

Jessie laughed. “Have
I thanked you for sticking with me until the end of the tour?”

“You’re lucky we
only have three more weeks or I’d be outta here so fast your head
would spin.” Nikki rubbed her belly, her palm moving in a slow
circular rotation. “Hey, is Drew gonna close out the tour with us?”

“I—I’m not sure.”
Jessie’s fingers tightened on the hanger. “Maybe.”

“It’s great having
him back. I like Kenny and all, but he’s not half as good as Drew.
And he was always showing off. I wasn’t surprised when he pulled
that dumb-ass move and broke his arm.”

“That’s Kenny for
you,” Jessie said, glancing over her shoulder as she left the
bathroom. “A legend in his own mind.”

“Isn’t that the
truth?” Nikki followed her. “Have you decided on your outfits for
Friday night?”

“Not yet.” She laid
the dress on the bed, grateful that Nikki had dropped the subject of
Drew.

Now if only
she
could forget about him. All through rehearsal she’d been acutely
aware of him standing behind her. Stickler that she was, she usually
loved the rehearsal process. But not today. Not with Drew looking so
freaking gorgeous. His golden brown hair was shorter, and he’d
shaved his goatee, yet he’d gotten even hotter over the past four
months.

She wasn’t the only
one who appreciated how Drew filled out his T-shirt and rocked a
faded pair of Levi’s. She’d seen Tara and Renee discreetly
checking him out during rehearsal. The hot stab of jealousy that
followed took her by surprise—probably because she’d never cared
enough about any guy to actually get jealous. But this was Drew. The
first guy in years she’d dared to let penetrate the thick shell
she’d built around her heart; the first guy she’d seriously
considered sleeping with in ages. Oh, and wouldn’t the media have a
field day with that tidbit of information if it ever got out? For
some reason they believed that she’d slept with every guy she was
photographed with.

“What about the
short, white fringe?” Nikki suggested. “I love how it shimmers
when you move. I bet it would look amazing on TV. And since you have
the best legs in the business, you should flaunt them. I know I
would.”

Jessie turned from the
bed and smiled at the woman she’d initially been wary of, but whom
she soon discovered had a heart of gold and a maternal streak a mile
wide. “Carrie Underwood has the best legs in the business, not me.”

Nikki shook her head
and shot her an exasperated look. “Why is it so hard for you to
accept a compliment?”

“Just trying to stay
humble,” Jessie shot back with practiced ease. As much as she liked
Nikki, dropping her guard any lower was a scary proposition. She’d
learned the hard way to keep her feelings to herself.

Nikki smiled and rolled
her eyes. “Whatever.”

After Nikki retrieved
her cases from the bathroom and went back to her own room, Jessie
moved to the window and pushed the curtain aside to admire the view.

The neon lights blurred
as her thoughts turned to Drew. Although she’d prepared herself,
seeing him earlier today had been a shock to her system. She’d
missed him like crazy, but she hadn’t been aware of how much until
she looked smack dab into those soulful blue eyes of his.
Damn
it
. Why did he affect her so?

Stupid
question.
She knew exactly why. It was because out of all
the guys she’d ever met, he was the only one who had never tried to
take advantage of her. Even when she’d been drunk as hell at the MC
one night a little over a year ago. It was just before he’d started
working for her, and she threw herself at him without any shame at
all. Surprisingly, he turned her down. Any other guy would have taken
what she so freely tried to offer without a second thought. But not
Drew. He didn’t know why she’d been drinking that night, and he
didn’t ask. Instead, he drove her home, saw her inside, and made
her a pot of coffee before leaving. Never once had he looked at her
with condemnation or judgment. Instead, his eyes had been filled with
care and concern.

That was the night she
decided he might be someone she could become friends with. And it had
been the major reason she’d agreed to let Wally hire him for the
short tour of smaller venues she’d selected to reach the fans who
couldn’t make it to, or afford, the larger arenas.

During the six months
he’d played with her and the band, she began to trust him. Unlike a
few other guys she’d met, he didn’t seem impressed with her fame,
or her money. He’d never once asked her to help him with his
career, nor did he ask her to listen to one of his demo CDs. Hell,
she never even knew he sang regularly at the MC until she dropped by
one night and saw him up on the stage. She stood in the shadows and
listened to him sing with only his acoustic guitar for accompaniment.
His voice, warm and rich, and laced with just the slightest hint of
his Tennessee roots, had filled her with indescribable yearning.

He had no clue that she
was there watching him, yet it seemed as though she was the only
person in the room, and it felt as though he was singing directly to
her. Why no one had offered him a record deal boggled her mind. But
what really shocked her was that later, when she told him she’d
heard him sing that night at the MC and wanted to help him with his
career, he’d flat-out turned her down.

So it had surprised the
holy heck out of her when he offered to help her with a song she’d
been working on and was having the dickens of a time with. For some
reason, the lyrics weren’t flowing and she’d been at her wit’s
end. Thanks to Drew’s suggestions, she’d found the right hook,
and the song
Hearts on Fire
,
which was on her current album of the same name, had shot up the
charts, where it was still number one after eleven weeks.

After that, they spent
a lot of time together talking about music, watching television and
just…hanging out. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but one day,
as she looked at him, her heart had filled with a strange and
powerful emotion. At first, she wasn’t sure what it was, then it
hit her like a runaway freight train; she’d fallen for Drew
Carmichael.

It took her a week to
work up the courage to tell him how she felt, especially since she
wasn’t sure if he felt the same. There were times when she’d
catch him watching her with a raw intensity that just about melted
her panties, but he never made a move on her. And the one night she’d
been able to coax him on stage with her at the MC, she’d never felt
so connected to another human being in her life. It scared her, and
thrilled her, all at the same time. He’d felt it too. She’d seen
it—plain as day—in those beautiful blue eyes of his.

Her nerves had been
stretched as tight as a drum later that same night as she stood at
the door of his apartment. She’d almost blurted it out when he
opened the door, but then she saw Hannah, and it was more than
obvious that they’d been hitting the sheets. In that awful,
horrible moment, all she wanted to do was curl up into a tiny ball
and disappear off the face of the earth. Her chest ached as she made
up some stupid excuse as to why she’d stopped by, and then she
turned, walked away, and did her best to avoid his calls and texts
until she left on her tour a week later.

Despite all that, here
he was, saving her and Wally’s ass. Which once again proved the one
thing in this life she knew to be true: Drew Carmichael was one of
the good ones. Hannah Landry was one lucky girl.

Jessie sighed and
allowed the curtain to fall back into place. She had to get Drew out
of her system. Mooning over him when she should be getting dressed
was pointless.

Squaring her shoulders,
she banished him from her thoughts and moved to the bed. She shrugged
out of her robe, slipped on the blue dress and was struggling with
the zipper when a knock on the door of her suite startled her.

“Be right there!”
she called out, as she padded barefoot out of the bedroom. “Perfect
timing,” she said, opening the door. Her mouth gaped open. She’d
been expecting Wally, but it was Drew who stood in the hallway. Then,
obviously mistaking her shocked silence as an invitation, he brushed
past her and entered the room, leaving the clean, fresh scent of his
soap in his wake.

“Wally had something
important he had to deal with, so he asked me to escort you to the
meet-and-greet,” he said.

“That’s what I have
a bodyguard for.” Jessie closed the door, then reached behind her
to find the zipper pull. “Damn it all to hell,” she muttered,
after several futile attempts to grasp it.

“Need some help?”
Drew asked, his voice was tinged with amusement. “I’m pretty good
with zippers and stuff.”

“I’ll just bet you
are.” She let out a frustrated groan and stamped her foot. “Oh,
all right,” she said, and closed the short gap between them. As she
halted in front of him, she tried her best not to be affected by the
perfect symmetry of his face, or to think about what the other
“stuff” he claimed to be good at might be.

As she stood before
him, she took the opportunity to take the sight of him in. Under his
dark sport coat, he wore a light blue shirt that brought out the
color of his eyes. His collar was open just enough to reveal the
tanned skin of his neck and the thin leather necklace he always wore.
The small round medallion that hung from it looked like some sort of
symbol, but she didn’t recognize it, and he’d never mentioned
whether or not it held any special significance.

His gaze roamed over
her face and the slight smile that quirked his mouth was on the
devilish side. “Turn around.” His soft commanding voice sent a
tingle up her spine.

Obediently, she turned
and slipped her hands under her hair and lifted it up. Her breath
came a little faster as he tugged the zipper upwards. “There’s a
clasp,” he said, swearing softly as he fumbled with it.

“I thought you said
you were good with zippers and stuff.”

“I am.” She felt
his warm breath on the nape of her neck, then the brush of his thumb
over her skin, and shivered. “There. Got it,” he said with pride.
“I told you I was good.”

“It’s a zipper, not
brain surgery,” Jessie said sardonically, as she let go of her hair
and turned around to face him. Without her shoes on, she had to tilt
her head back to meet his eyes. “When did you shave your goatee?”
She reached up to touch his chin, but then she realized what she was
doing and dropped her hand. “You look…nice.”

“So do you.”

His husky voice melted
her insides.

She stepped around him
and hurried to the door, anxious to put some space between them. What
he was doing to her equilibrium was
so
not good.