The Closer You Get (23 page)

Well, if that wasn’t true for Brett, then tonight she’d say
goodbye to her friends, to this way of life and the man she’d never forget.

And it would be the most painful experience of her life.

* * *

B
RETT
HADN
’
T
SEEN
HER
yet, but thanks to Rusty’s recent announcement, he knew she was there. That gave
him some measure of relief, and a whole lot of cause to be as nervous as a cat
in a pen full of pit bulls.

After leaving Lacey and his mom back in the bus to cool off,
he’d claimed a folding chair not far from the stage, drank half a beer and
waited for the second part of a performance he wasn’t at all sure he could get
through.

“How’s it going, Brett?” one of the road crew asked in
passing.

“Hanging in there.” Barely.

When the prerecorded version of one of his infamous love songs
started playing over the speakers, he immediately thought about Cammie. Always
Cammie. Since that day she’d said goodbye, she’d never been more than a thought
away. He’d picked up the phone to call her probably a thousand times, only to
hang up knowing he wasn’t quite ready yet. On the nights when he hadn’t been
able to sleep—and there had been plenty—he’d rehearsed what he would say when he
saw her. He’d planned this whole evening down to the last detail so it would
come off without a hitch. That didn’t mean it might not go to hell in a
handbasket if Cammie didn’t cooperate. Regardless, he couldn’t turn back now. He
didn’t want to.

While he stared at a bolt in the metal scaffolding that
comprised the assembled stage, Bull invaded his field of vision. Then Rusty and
Jeremy gathered around him and stared like he’d grown a third eye. He supposed
he should get up and get on with it, but concerns kept him cemented to his
seat.

“You ready?” Bull asked.

“Yeah. Where is she?”

“She’ll be here in a minute,” Rusty said. “She’s changing
clothes.”

“Guess this is it.” Brett downed the rest of the beer, then
tossed the bottle into a nearby bin. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a
drink before he went on. Alcohol tended to take away his energy. But tonight he
was strung as tight as the strings on his guitar, so a case of whiskey probably
wouldn’t affect him.

He did feel a little better. Yeah, he was going to be fine,
after all. The routine was rote. He’d have no trouble singing the songs. Except
for one. He just hoped he could pull that one off. Sure he could. It was all
going to be okay.

Then he heard her voice and he was anything but okay. When she
said something to one of the roadies and laughed, his chest felt like he’d taken
a blow to his ribs and one of them had impaled his lungs. And that was after
hearing
her. How the hell was he going to feel
when he saw her?

He decided to take his first look at her onstage. Might be nice
if he could actually move.

“Are you coming or are we going to have to carry you?” Bull
asked when he didn’t immediately stand.

“I’ll be there in a minute. I need to tell Mom and Lacey we’re
about to start the show.” And that was a lie. One of the security guards was
already heading to the bus to summon them, per his earlier instructions.

“Try to make it before tomorrow morning,” Rusty said as they
headed away.

Brett waited a few seconds, and when he thought it was safe to
look, he ventured a glance. Big mistake.

Cammie stood at the bottom of the steps, chatting with the guys
like this little reunion was no big deal. She wore tight black jeans and a silky
white top that tied at the neck and showed a whole lot of bare shoulder. And
damn if she wasn’t wearing a sexy pair of black platform heels, something he
noticed as she climbed the stairs before she moved out of sight.

At least he was prepared now. Not that it would matter. He’d be
lucky if he remembered how to play his guitar or if he could even get one word
out of his dry mouth....

When the announcer called ten minutes until showtime, Brett was
jolted back into reality. He needed to get a move on, then remembered he’d left
his hat in the hospitality tent where he’d gone to get the beer
. He sprinted to the tent, grabbed the hat from the
table and then ran
smack-dab into a groupie with something other than
his stage performance on her mind.

“Hi, Brett.” She gave him a painted-on smile that didn’t
conceal the fact she was way too young. “You about to go on?”

“That’s right, and I’m late.” He positioned his hat in place
and tried to move around her but she blocked his path.

She inclined her head to one side and grinned. “After it’s
over, why don’t you and I have a beer together?”

Her kind would be a thing of the past after tonight, if all
went well. He tried not to look too put out, although he was. “Don’t think so,
sweetheart. Look, I’ve got to go—”

She adjusted his collar where it was riding up at the fold.
“There.” She patted his chest and wet her lips. “I’m good at helping men get
dressed. And undressed.”

He thought about the likes of Mark Jensen and decided she
needed a quick lecture. “What’s your name and how old are you?”

She looked highly insulted. “My name’s Kinsey and I’m
eighteen.”

And he was twenty-one. “Honestly.”

“Seventeen, but I’ll be eighteen next January.”

Brett didn’t have time to set her straight, but he was going to
take the time, anyway. “Let me give you a few words of advice. Finish school and
learn some self-respect. What you’re doing is all kinds of dangerous.”

She stuck out her lip in a pout. “But I want to be a singer
like you.”

“Sleeping your way to the top might take you places you don’t
want to go.” Man, he sounded like a dad, and that was a good thing. “If you’ve
got talent, learn how to go through the proper channels.”

When the intro music began, Brett pushed past her and headed to
the stage. He hoped the girl took his advice, and that made him smile. Maybe he
was getting this dad thing down, after all.

He climbed to the top of the stairs and stopped off where his
daughter and mom were seated. Lacey looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Daddy,
she’s beautiful.”

“I agree,” his mom said. “She looks like an angel.”

Probably too much of an angel for a devil like him—except in
his bed. “Yeah, she’s pretty inside and out.” He regarded Lacey again. “Do you
have it?”

She patted her jeans pocket. “Right here.”

“Good. Remember what I told you?”

She gave him a good eye-rolling. “Yes, Dad. I’m not a
baby.”

No, she wasn’t, but she’d always be his baby girl. He leaned
down to dole out hugs, straightened and exhaled. “Wish me luck.”

He signaled the announcer he was ready and took his guitar from
the roadie.

“Once again, put your hands together for
Brett Taylor!”

As soon as he stepped onto the stage and moved in front of the
microphone, his attention immediately went to Cammie standing to his right. And
dammit, she smiled at him. He would’ve been better off with a go-to-hell look.
He would’ve been better off if she wore a bag over her head.

When he turned to Bull to count down the beat, he did a double
take. Standing in Walker’s stead was the best man Brett had ever known. The man
he’d always wanted to be. The man he still wanted to be.

The band began to play but he didn’t care. He couldn’t jump
into a song without a greeting for Pat. He walked over to him, shook his hand
and gave him a brief guy hug. “How? Why?”

“You can thank the little gal over there.” He pointed toward
Cammie and grinned. “She thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

Brett turned around and saw she was smiling again, soft and so
damn sweet, looking like the angel his mother thought her to be. In that moment,
he couldn’t have loved her more.

As the band continued to play, he claimed his spot behind the
microphone and gave her a thank-you smile. He wanted to do more than that. He
wanted to hold her and say what he’d needed to say to her a long time ago. But
there would be time for that later, and the damn show must go on.

He picked up the song from the beginning without missing a
beat, like his heart wasn’t about to pound out of chest and he wasn’t sweating
bullets. Big ones. Somehow, someway, he managed to get through the eight-song
set without stumbling over the lyrics, or himself when he shook a few hands. Yet
in the back of his mind, he couldn’t forget what was about to happen. If all
went as planned, he’d be changing his life forever. If it didn’t... Nope, he
wasn’t going to borrow trouble.

When it came time for the final song, he stepped up to the
microphone and gathered every ounce of strength he owned. “I know most of you
saw the debut video for ‘When You Know It’s Real’ earlier this evening. Well,
we’re going to show it again, only this time I’m going to sing it live the way
it’s supposed to be sung.” He stepped back and gestured toward Cammie. “I’m
going to sing it with the star of the video and the best backup singer in the
country, Camille Carson.”

As the audience applauded like mad, Cammie took a little bow
but remained planted in place. Brett set his guitar against a speaker, then came
back and crooked a finger at her, indicating he wanted her to share his
microphone. She dragged her feet getting there, like she wasn’t sure she wanted
to be that close to him. But he wasn’t going to let that discourage him. He
planned to get real close to her in a matter of minutes.

After the lights dimmed, the crowd quieted and the video began
to play, Brett slid one arm around Cammie’s waist, and she didn’t make the
slightest indication she didn’t want the contact. One victory down, one to go.
As always, they sang perfect two-part harmony, looking into each other’s eyes.
And when they came to the final refrain, Brett didn’t care if the whole world
was watching, he was going to kiss her. And he did. And she kissed him back like
they’d never been apart.

He wasn’t sure if the roar from the crowd resulted from the
kiss, or the other part of his master plan. Maybe both. Now that the song was
over, the fun had just begun.

When he pushed the microphone aside with the hand that wasn’t
balanced on Cammie’s waist, the audience went silent as a tomb.

She looked to be in that state known as confusion. “What are
you doing?”

He slid his other arm around her and pulled her close. “I have
something to say, and I’m going to say it.”

“Now? What about the audience?”

“Believe me, they’ll wait.” He sucked in a long breath and let
it out slowly. “Cammie, I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, and letting you
go was one of the biggest ones to date. I’ve done a lot of soul-searching while
you’ve been gone, and I figured out I’m not scared anymore. In fact, I’m ready
to go all in.”

She frowned. “Meaning?”

“First, I have a question for you. Do you still love me?”

“Of course I do. A couple of weeks didn’t cure me of that. I’m
not sure a couple of decades will change that.”

He gave her a soft kiss, took her by the shoulders and turned.
“Now look up.”

Cammie, Will You Marry Me...?

She blinked twice before the words registered. She blinked
again, then stared at Brett. “Are you serious?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m serious. I don’t think I’d plaster a proposal
across a giant video screen if I wasn’t. And to show you how serious I am—” he
waved a hand over his shoulder “—I have something else to prove it.”

Lacey came bouncing out holding a royal-blue velvet box in her
hand. She gave it to her dad, stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, then bounced
away again.

When Brett stepped back, Cammie’s hand immediately went to her
chest where she felt the rapid-fire beat of her heart. The moments were so
surreal, she felt as if she might be having an out-of-body experience.

“On your knees, son,” Pat yelled, sending her out of her
momentary stupor.

“Hold your horses, I’m getting to that.” As Brett knelt on one
knee and opened the box to reveal an unbelievable diamond ring, the crowd went
wild and Cammie started to cry. “Camille Carson, will you do me the honor of
marrying probably the most flawed man you’ve ever met? But flaws and all, I love
you more than all the fame and the awards and this insane career.”

She could never have imagined this beautiful gesture would come
from the love of her life, who now wore his heart on his sleeve and in his
incredible blue eyes. However, that didn’t mean she was beyond drawing out the
suspense. “Do you promise I don’t have to sing if I don’t want to?”

“Yeah, if you’ll promise to help me write my songs.”

“Agreed. Babies?”

He gave her a winning grin. “You bet. Five or six.”

“I’ll settle for two or three.”

After someone yelled, “Hurry up,” they both laughed.

“Baby, you heard the man. Give me your answer before my knees
permanently lock up. And it better be yes. Otherwise, I’ll never be able to show
my face again in Nashville, much less the rest of the good old U.S. of A.”

Deciding to put him out of his misery, Cammie held out a hand
to him that he took without hesitation. She considered the only word that came
to mind. The only word that mattered at the moment. “Yes.”

Brett leaned over to the microphone. “Hell, yeah, she said
yes.”

Cammie was sure the thunderous outcry from the crowd was
sufficient enough to wake every dog in the county. The kiss Brett gave her was
hot enough to set the stage on fire.

When Bull hollered, “You forgot the ring, Brett!” they finally
parted.

As he pulled the ring from the holder and pocketed the box,
Cammie held out her left hand for him to slip the emerald-cut diamond on her
finger. Once that important act was done, he went back to the microphone. “The
show’s over, folks, but the champagne’s on the house.”