Outlaw Country (18 page)

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Authors: Davida Lynn

BOOK: Outlaw Country
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Gracie could see those flames behind his eyes. She could see it in the quick rise and fall of his chest. She could feel it in his touch. Her hand slid down to his, and she turned away from them. Gracie led Colton down a hallway.

His eyes went wide as they walked past a glass door. Roger, Gracie’s mother, and the producer were inside. He rushed past it, trying to stay out of the light. The hallway darkened as they moved deeper into the building. Gracie looked back to Colton, giving him a deliciously mischievous look.

“Be quiet.” She kept her voice low, too. “There’s an empty studio back here.”

Colton kept his steps light as he followed her. She had one thing on her mind, and Gracie knew Colton had the same thought. That morning in the hotel had changed her. Her new mission in life was to make Colt forgot every other woman in the world existed.

She pushed through another glass door, except this one was blanketed in almost total darkness. Once the door closed behind them, Colton pulled her to him. He kissed her with a need and desire for only one woman. It had been growing in building every day since Nashville.

Their hands were a flurry, all over each other. Gracie had Colton’s shirt off before he even knew what was happening. He laughed, maybe at Gracie’s voracious nature.

“Shh,” she whispered to him, her lips just below his chin.

Their eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness, and Colton pulled her away. “Look at me. The things I’m about to do to you will have you screaming.”

Colton let her by the waist through another door. Inside the actual studio, Colton and Gracie heard the door seal shut. The room felt totally devoid of sound. Gracie would have been bothered by it, but she knew that it meant they didn’t have to be quiet whatsoever. The room was totally soundproofed, and they could do whatever they wanted.

For the first time in almost three weeks, Colton and Gracie felt completely free. In the isolation of the darkened recording studio, the two country singers made furious and passionate love.

The first day in the studio was mostly spent setting up equipment and getting volume levels. Through all the commotion, nobody noticed that Colton and Gracie had vanished for a good half hour. Once all the equipment was loaded in, the two stars and their managers sat with Jonathan and talked through the concept. It didn’t take long for Roger or Kathleen to see that the album was in excellent hands with Jonathan.
 

When it came to country music, he knew his stuff. After a good nine hours of setup time, the band, the managers, and Jonathan and his engineers all sat down to dinner. The studio was state-of-the-art and modern, but the converted carriage house out back was a perfect rustic touch to the place. Inside, there was a long table that seemed to be made from one solid piece of tree. It had more than enough room for everyone.

After a hearty meal, Jonathan pulled out a few acoustic guitars, handing one each to Gracie and Colton.

“Dinner and a show. Let’s hear what we’re going to spend the next two weeks working on.” Jonathan eased back in his chair and worked a toothpick around his mouth.

The two took turns playing the songs that they had been holding onto. Jonathan insisted they even play the ones that weren’t finished. “Make it up as you go. After all, were on the record company’s dime.”

When Gracie played, Colton couldn’t see or hear another thing. That voice like honey flowed straight to his heart, soaking into his skin and embedding itself into his mind forever. Her sad lines tore Colton to shreds. The joyful ones built him back into a man, stronger and smarter than he was before. He knew that every lyric was for him or from him. He marveled at Gracie’s ability to capture so much with so few words.

If he had come after Gracie, Colton wouldn’t have played a thing. Her songs felt so strong, making Colton question his own. He saw the look in Gracie’s eyes after singing, “Love ain’t nothin’ but everything to me…” The look was pain, misery, and beauty all wrapped up into one heavenly woman. Colton wanted to reach over and wipe the tear from Gracie’s cheek, but the dozen people around the table stopped him.

After letting the last chord ring out, Colton looked around. The silence stunned him. “Well, shit. If it needs work, just tell me.”

He caught Roger’s eye. His manager sat next to Gracie’s mother, and Colton could see that the two of them had worked past their differences. Roger’s mouth was open, and he leaned forward and raised his eyebrows. “Colton. That was…I don’t even know. That was something I’ve never, ever heard from you. Not just the words.”

His manager stood up from the other side of the table, and Colton thought he might come over to give him a slap on the back. “That
voice.
It was like you pulled a Dylan with ‘Lay Lady Lay.’ It was you, but it wasn’t. Wow.” It wasn’t a pat on the back that Roger had in store for Colton. The manager pulled Colton to his feet and threw his arms around the musician. Roger had never felt more proud of Colton. It wasn’t about the number of records that would sell or the money. It was about one song so powerful it could change Colton’s career forever.

Jonathan Tillman nodded, turning to Kathleen. “I know you’re worried I’m going to over-produce this album, but I can assure you, with material like this, I won’t need to add a sodding thing. Colton, bravo. Bravo.”

The compliments warmed Colton’s soul, but it was the look on Gracie’s face when he turned back to her. He mouthed,
All for you.
She closed her eyes. Something came over Colton. It might have been the talk with Roger, or maybe the tranquility of the studio. Whatever it was, he was done pretending and keeping secrets.

“Look, I know y’all ain’t dumb. If we’re gonna go in and lay down the best album, we need to be straight with each other. Everybody sees the headlines, so we’re gonna clear the air.” Turning back to Gracie, Colton gave her a chance to protest. Instead, she smiled. The weight had been carried for too long by the pair.

“Oh, shit. She’s pregnant. I knew it.” Al, the keyboard player, rolled his eyes and threw his hands up. The rest of Colton’s band laughed. Kathleen did not.

“Very funny, Alabama. That is one of the false rumors flying’ round. Yeah, Gracie and I are an item.” Colton turned to her mother. “Mrs. Hart, I do truly apologize for keeping this from you, and I understand that this might not sit well with you, but your daughter has changed me.”

The room was tense. Everyone probably knew that Colton and Gracie were together, but no one dared to speak about it. Kathleen had been nothing but hostile to Roger, The Guilty Party, and Colton, first and foremost. Nobody wanted to catch her ire. With Roger standing beside him, Colton looked to Gracie’s mother.
 

Kathleen’s attention was on the table. She stared into the lines and ridges of the woods that seemed to swirl on and on forever. She was speechless for so many reasons. She felt warmth and love from everyone in the room, but there was a desolate, isolating feeling swimming inside of her as well.

Gracie wasn’t a girl anymore. Kathleen had told herself that for over a year. She was smart, too. Damn, she was smart. Smarter than Kathleen, but still so similar in some ways. They both had a penchant for choosing the wrong man. Shepard had been trouble from the very start. He had even slipped under Kathleen’s radar, and that fiasco had pushed Kathleen to mother Gracie more than ever. She was trying to protect her little girl, but all the Kathleen had succeeded in doing was drive a sharp wedge between them.

Looking up at her daughter, Kathleen could read it all: Gracie’s strong feelings for Colton that might even love, the sadness and sorrow because of their fight, and the eager anticipation for Kathleen’s response.
 
Gracie wasn’t a little girl anymore, and Kathleen couldn’t treat her that way.

“Call me Kathleen, damnit. Gracie, I’m sorry. Everything that’s happened since the duet with Colton…I don’t know if there was a way I could have handled it any worse, to be frank. You know I’ve only ever been interested in your happiness.”

Gracie spoke, even though the lump in her throat tried to stop her, “Even if that meant sacrificing your own happiness.”

Kathleen couldn’t help but not. Maybe Gracie knew her better than she knew Gracie. “Yes, even if that meant sacrificing my own.” An embarrassed smile came to Kathleen. It wasn’t apologizing in front of so many strangers that had her blushing. It was the fact that she was being chastised by her nineteen year old daughter. The daughter that she had put through hell the last month as punishment. Kathleen had been taking out her own insecurities and fears on her beautiful girl. “I know now that all I did was make life worse. Worse for everyone. Colton, Roger, I’m sorry.” Kathleen turned to the side, where the men that made up The Guilty Party sat. Some had beers in hand, others tried not make their stares so obvious.

“Roy, L.J., Al, Lee, Kevin. I owe you just as big of an apology. You probably think I’m a cold bitch, and I’m sorry for that. I truly hope that my actions haven’t stained your image of my daughter or me.” Kathleen raised a glass.

Recognizing the look on her daughter’s face, Kathleen knew Gracie was overcome with emotion. Gracie clutched her hands in her lap, and Colton’s fingers lace with her own. Gracie had to close her eyes and let the tears fall. Her mother’s heart ached with beauty.

Kathleen was choked up, too, but she spoke through it. “I think we all know that something special is going to happen here over the next two weeks. I’ll be the first to admit my mistakes, so I’d like to start over. Jonathan, Roger, with your help, we can make history.” Kathleen turned back to Colton’s band. “You boys are some of the finest, most talented musicians Gracie’s ever had the pleasure to work with. From here on out, no bad blood, only good music.”

She wasn’t much for speeches, and Kathleen much preferred having a few minutes to put words together. Her words were sincere, and she prayed to the Lord that everyone would forgive her. The look she found in Roger’s eyes gave her the idea that after decades of bad luck with men, she might have found one just as perfectly broken as she was.

The producer was the first one to speak. Jonathan raised his own glass, recently topped off with red wine. “As fine a toast as I’ve ever heard. To good music.”

Around the room, musicians raise glasses and bottles of brew. “To good music.”

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