Only The Beginning (Rockin' Country) (3 page)

Harmony hung up and hit Shell in the arm. “We’re going out to lunch, dinner…whatever you wanna call it. We’re going.”

“It’s a good thing you washed your hair, put on makeup, and actually cared about what you dressed in today,” Shell deadpanned as she merged into the turning lane that would allow them to get into the mall parking lot.

“You’re right. This could have been very bad, but I do look cute today if I do say so myself.”

“I feel like I should give you a talk about going on a date with an older boy who drives a fast car, listens to rock music, and talks back to authority.”

“You’re hilarious. I am twenty-four years old. I think we can agree that I know how to take care of myself. Besides, I carry mace.”

The two of them stopped talking as a blacked out new Dodge Charger pulled into the parking lot and up to the SUV they sat in. The window rolled down slightly on the driver’s side, and Harmony caught a glance of Garrett.

“That is one sexy car,” Shell breathed. “You’re birth control is up to date, right?”

“Oh my gosh. Are you serious right now? I don’t sleep with men on the first date.”

“I have a feelin’ that man gets women to drop their panties way before they know his real name.”

Gazing back at the car, Harmony had to admit to herself that Shell was probably right. Instead, she groaned and opened the door.

“Be careful. I’ll have my phone on me if you need me,” Shell said as she watched her friend hop down.

“I will be. I’ll call ya.”

*     *     *

Harmony’s heart thundered in her chest as she walked around to the passenger side of the car. The door opened before she got there, and she smiled as she saw Garrett leaning over, holding it open for her from the driver’s seat.

“Hey,” he greeted her as she sat down and buckled up.

“Hey,” she answered back, feeling nervous about being alone in the car with him. This was so unlike anything she ever did. Usually, she knew someone for a few weeks before she ever went out with them, but something about this told her that it would be alright. For the first time in her life, she decided to follow her heart and throw caution to the wind.

“First things first, I told you my real name, are you gonna tell me yours?”

She glanced over at him, feeling his eyes on her. “What makes you think Harmony isn’t my given name?”

“Because most people I know in this business aren’t honest about anything. I’m thinking someone as pretty as you; with as many admirers…you’re not putting your real name out there.”

She blushed and bit her lip. “It’s Hannah Stewart. I just use a different first name.”

“Nice to meet you, Hannah.” He leaned over, shaking her hand.

“Same here, Garrett.”

“Now that you know my name, does it take away any of my mystique?” he asked, messing with the keys that sat in the ignition.

“Not at all. The mystique is you, not your name.”

That seemed to put him at ease. He took a deep breath and faced her. “So what’s a good place to eat around here?”

“Depends on what you want. We have a large variety.”

“I’m from California; I’ve never really had down home southern cooking before. How about I try it here?”

A smile tilted the corners of her mouth, and she clapped her hands together. “This is going to be so fun; I know exactly where we can go.”

Hannah directed him through the city a few minutes up the road to a little diner that had grown to be an institution, at least for her.

“This looks like a hole in the wall,” he commented as they pulled into a parking spot and got out of the car.

She waited as he came around to the passenger side so that they could walk in together. “It is, but it’s some of the best home cookin’ besides my own mother’s you’ll ever eat. It’s usually busy, but I used to do songwriters’ nights and they know me. It looks like we hit it at a pretty good time though,” Hannah observed the parking lot.

“You sure they won’t turn me away?” he asked, indicating the tattoos that peaked out under the arms of the t-shirt he wore.

“I think you’ll be fine.” She cupped her hand around his arm as they walked into the building.

Garrett could feel the eyes of the patrons and staff on him. He was used to it, but for the first time it gave him pause. She was so normal looking compared to him, they were surely questioning what she thought walking in here with her hand wrapped around his arm.

“Hannah.” An elderly woman shuffled over to the two of them.

“Hey, Ms. Greta,” Hannah greeted her, pulling the small woman into her arms and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m doin’ good. My friend here hasn’t ever had any down home southern cookin’…he’s from California. I knew just where to bring him too,” Hannah winked up at Garrett.

He steeled himself against the look he just knew this woman would give him. Surprise wrote itself across his face as the older woman looked him up and down, gave him a saucy smile, and cupped his large hand in her small one.

“C’mon back here boy, let me show you how they butter these handmade biscuits.”

The giggle that escaped Hannah’s mouth was worth the blush that covered his. He wasn’t exactly sure she was really talking about biscuits, but he followed her just the same.

*  *  *

T
he two of them found themselves seated in a booth a little while later, both having ordered from the menu.

“I can’t believe that I can get fried chicken and moonshine at the same restaurant. The guys are going be so pissed I didn’t invite them,” Garret said as he took a picture of the menu with his phone.

“Are you sending that to them?” Hannah asked, taking a sip of her sweet tea.

“Yeah, and I’m putting it on Twitter. If people can figure out where I am, then they’ll know where we’re doing the secret show tonight,” he grinned.

“Secret shows? I’ve never done anything like that before.”

He nodded and held up a finger while he hit a few buttons on his phone. “There. Posted. Hopefully we can fill the arena. That’s always the goal with these secret shows.”

“I’m intrigued,” she admitted.

“We tour a lot, but it’s still not enough all the time. There are still kids who don’t get to come out because asshole scalpers buy a good portion of the tickets and sell them to the highest bidder. In markets that we don’t always get to…usually the south and along the eastern seaboard, we do these secret shows. We only promote a few hours in advance, like I’m doing right now. But you’d be surprised how many fans find out and make it here. I’m assuming people are going to be looking for us to be in Nashville since it’s all the rage we’re ‘dating’ and all.”

Hannah giggled and blushed. “My mom actually texted me to find out who you were. She was all ‘I know we haven’t met him before’.”

“My mom did something like that too. I had to explain to her that we just took a picture for some reporters. Of course, now I’m sure there will be something about it since we’re in Nashville tonight and the two of us are at lunch, but this was planned a few months in advance.”

At that moment, his phone started blowing up with sounds. “Twitter,” he explained. “Looks like the kids know where we are.”

It amused her, the way he called fans the kids. “Are none of your fans your own age?”

“Are you calling me old?”

She shook her head. “I thought you were twenty-nine,” she admitted. It was embarrassing to admit she knew as much as she did about him. “At least that’s what I’ve read. It’s just you’re calling your fans kids, is throwing me off.”

Garrett liked watching her squirm. It was obvious she didn’t want to offend anyone, much less him. “I am going be thirty this year, but I feel older than that as far as worldly experiences go, so I tend to call the fans kids. Granted, they are normally younger than me, but there are a lot the same age and a few years older.”

“You are an old man compared to me.” She lifted her eyebrows, teasing him as she took a bite of the food that had been delivered to them.

“Ouch.” He put his hand over his heart. “That kinda hurts. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“That was a good year,” he grinned, his eyes getting a far off look. “I dated a Playboy Playmate for a few months, and wow was that a crazy time in my life.”

Hannah threw an unused napkin at him. “Seriously?”

“I don’t have a filter; you’ll learn that about me.”

“I will?” she questioned. “You’re assuming I’ll see you again after this?”

He had the decency to squirm in his seat this time. “Well I figured, you have my number now, I have yours. We could be text, Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram buddies. I already follow your Instagram anyway.”

“Really?”

“Hey, I’m a tech savvy kinda guy. I do all that stuff.”

She wiped her mouth. “No, I mean why do you follow mine?”

He lifted a shoulder up and ducked his head slightly. “I’ve always thought you were kinda cute.”

Hannah didn’t know what to say to that, she was used to people telling her that she was cute, sexy, beautiful, and pretty—but they were all in the way you described someone that you looked up to. This man was her equal. “Well thanks; I’ve always thought you were too.”

“But you’re not following me on Instagram,” he pouted, pushing out his bottom lip.

She couldn’t help the giggle that erupted from deep within her throat. “You’re a mess.”

“Is that a southern saying?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“I guess so, I’ve never heard anyone else besides a fellow southerners use it.”

He wrinkled his nose, and a smile spread across his face. “Kind of like how ‘bless your heart’ is southern for ‘fuck you’?”

“Oh my goodness,” she opened her mouth. “Not at all.”

“Have I embarrassed you?”

She primly folded her hands in front of her plate, pushing it back now that she was done with it. “I just don’t like that word.”

“What word?” The way he bit his bottom lip told her he knew exactly what word she was talking about.

“The ‘f’ word.”

“Oh, Hannah, you are going to be so much fun to corrupt,” he laughed, reaching over to grab her hand. “Please give me a chance to do it.”

She couldn’t answer that question truthfully. Did she really want to be corrupted? What would that really entail? “We’ll see.”

Throwing caution to the wind, he kicked his leg out a little so that his foot touched hers. It caused her to lift her eyes so that they could see each other. “Let me start tonight? Come to our show…you’re a fan right?”

He had a point. She was a fan and hadn’t ever been able to make it to a show. “Do I get a backstage pass?”

Was she flirting with him right now? This woman was an enigma, and he wanted badly to figure her out, learn what made her smile, and learn what made her tick. “If you promise to be there.”

“Then I’ll be there. Should I wear my shirt that says Mrs. Reaper on it?” she asked, and he spit out the drink he had just taken.

“You have one of those shirts?”

The look on his face was worth the embarrassment of admitting that she did in fact have one. “I do. Along with one that reads ‘Black Friday Groupie’…I just normally sleep in them.”

For some reason, since she slept in them, he didn’t want anyone else to see her in those shirts. Not until he could publically and privately make a claim on her. “Tell you what; I’ll have something sent to you.”

“Sent to me?”

“It’s a prototype, but I think it’ll fit you well. You can either pick it up when you show up tonight, or I can have it sent to your house.”

“You can send it to my house. After all, you’re gonna have to drop me off.”

She had a point and he was very curious about where she lived.

Garrett checked his watch and whistled. “I hate to do this, but I have to go. I gotta get my workout in before the show, and we have a few radio stations calling in. I’ll have just enough time if I take you home in the next little bit.”

“I understand.” She reached into her purse to grab her wallet.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked as he saw her taking some bills out.

“Paying for our meal. I invited you here,” she explained. She didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t know how to classify this. Had it been a date? Were they supposed to pay for their own portion of the meal? It was the part of dating she had never been sure about. Of course it didn’t help matters that she had gotten her record deal the summer she turned eighteen.