Nashville by Heart: A Novel Page 8

  “I wish you’d told me as soon as you knew he was my dad.”

  “Would it have made a difference in your signing with me?”

  She honestly didn’t know, but it made her stop and think a minute now. “You wrote songs with Cooper Heart, and the two of you shared a Grammy?” She felt like she was being rammed in the side by a two-by-four.

  He stood, took a few tentative steps in her direction. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s just a shock,” she said. “One more thing my dad shut me out of.” She wondered why her momma hadn’t told her. Moisture was building in the corners of her eyes like a bucket on a water wheel about to reach the top of its rotation.

  “How did you end up working with him?” She kept her eyes glued on the trophy.

  “I was only a kid,” he said. “Sometimes your dad participated in a roundtable of songwriters who—”

  “I know. He came here every month to work. He used to take me with him, but when I was about eleven or so, he started leaving me at home.”

  Will nodded. “I wouldn’t have wanted to work with him if I’d known what a poor father he was—”

  “Oh, he wasn’t poor.” She added her own meaning to the word and angrily swiped her eyes. “He was rich.”

  “That was probably true.”

  “But you wouldn’t have known if you’d seen that his only daughter lived in a single-wide, run-down trailer with her mom who had to work two and three jobs at a time to pay the bills. I even had to help out. Did you know that? I come by my waitressing skills honestly.”

  Will’s eyes filled with compassion. “Hell, I didn’t know it was that bad for you.”

  She sniffed and crossed her arms at her chest. “We didn’t need a fancy house or anything like that, but a phone call would’ve been nice.”

  She plopped down in a chair beside the trophy case and gazed resentfully at the award.

  “I guess my dad has one of these trophies too, right?”

  Will nodded.

  “I didn’t even know he won a Grammy,” she said, her voice cracking, and in that moment she realized how utterly banned she and her mom had been from her dad’s life.

  She pressed her hands against her eyes.

  “How often do you talk to my dad anyway?” she asked through her hands. “Have you told him about me?”

  ~~~~

  Will gazed at the trophy that’d always made him so proud. The trophy was one of the things he could usually point out to a potential client who was on the fence, and he’d win them over just like that. Now he felt almost ashamed of it. He’d looked up to Cooper Heart back then, grateful for the step up. He’d had no idea about Cooper’s family—no idea about Gillian.

  Now he knew about his daughter. Hell, he was in love with her, and it killed him to see her staring at the trophy case, her face a mixture of fury and sadness.

  “I probably hear from your dad a few times a year,” he said, honestly. This admission made her flinch, but he was afraid to touch her. She looked like she might shatter.

  “When is the last time you talked to him?”

  He walked to his desk and consulted his calendar. “Three months ago.”

  She looked up, her wide red eyes moist, but her cheeks dry. “Really?”

  He nodded.

  “He hasn’t called me in ten years, at least.”

  “He’s obviously not who I thought he was,” Will said.

  “At least not to my mom and me.”

  He sighed. “But listen, sweetheart. Maybe you two can patch things up, write some songs together, maybe—” The look in her eyes stopped him mid-sentence.

  “Please don’t ever say that again.” She sniffed.

  “People in music are going to find out,” he said.

  “I don’t care. I’ve disowned him.”

  He turned away, wishing she’d change her mind. She’d be ticked, but he’d already had to play the Cooper Heart card with one of the biggest labels around, and as a result, they wanted to listen to her demo. He would’ve been crazy not to do it.

  When he turned back, his eyes fell on her sagging form. Oh, good Lord. What kind of father could leave his little girl?

  She was burying her face in her hands, her small shoulders quaking. It filled him with remorse, and damn it, with a feeling that was more than mere attraction. He wanted to shelter her, to guard her heart, to make her feel safe. He wanted to take her home, and not just to make love to her, but to make her part of his world. He wanted all of her. Will’s heart pounded with each realization that he’d already fallen hard for his newest, most inexperienced and most promising client. The situation was like a dynamite stick waiting to ignite.

  With two strides he walked to his office door and lowered the shades. Dorothy could wait. He strode back to Gillian. Gently taking her by the shoulders, he lifted her to her feet. Her hands were still pressed over her face.

  He gripped her shoulders, his heart ripping with every sorrowful shake.

  “I’m so sorry, darlin’. I should’ve put that stupid trophy away.”

  Her face was still buried in her hands and damp strands of hair were plastered to her cheeks. Tissues. She probably needed a whole box. He let go of her long enough to search his office, opening and closing drawers until he found them.

  “Darlin’. You’re killing me.”

  She sniffed, choking on a remarkable amount of snot. It made him laugh in spite of himself.

  “I’m a mess.”

  He handed her the box of tissues.

  “You’re definitely not a mess. Unless it’s a hot mess you’re talking about.”

  “That’s a really bad come-on line.” She pulled herself up straight and attempted a smile. “Does it usually work?”

  She was gorgeous staring at him through glistening eyes. Desire welled up in him. He moved closer.

  “I don’t know. I usually try not to make women cry.”

  Not caring that they were in his office, he cupped her cheeks in his hands, running his thumbs gently along the damp skin under her eyes. She didn’t move, except for her body still quivering from emotion. He wanted to kiss away every tear, every bit of pain and fear. He hadn’t ever cared about someone like he did Gillian, and if he could just take her home and treat her special like she deserved, he’d know what to do, but there in his office he was at a loss for how to help.

  “It looks like we’ve barely gotten started, and I’ve already hurt you.”

  “My dad is not your fault,” she said. “I’m still happy about your Grammy. I only wish my own dad had told me about it.”

  She took a breath, closed her eyes. Her lips, damp from tears and pink from her self-consciously biting them for the past ten minutes, were full and irresistible. Eyes wide open, he leaned forward and brushed his lips on hers, light as a feather at first. He watched her face, and when she didn’t flinch away, he kissed the salt off them, gently, and the taste of her made him want to kiss her full on the mouth. But he was patient, testing the waters first to see if last night at The Steel Spur had been a fluke.

  He kissed a tear-smudged eyelid. “Listen. You can work with me instead of Dorothy if you want to, but I can’t get any work done that way.” He kissed the other eyelid. “Because every minute I’m with you, I want to do this.” A soft moan escaped her lips as he gently parted them with his own, and that was all the permission he needed to kiss her the way he wanted. Yearning jolted through him as the pressure of her lips progressed from gentle to maddening.

  She kissed him back with a fever he hadn’t expected, and when he felt her hands slide up his back, he wished they weren’t trapped in his office. Somewhere in the background he heard his phone ringing, but he ignored it.

  “Will,” she whispered, gasping for breath. He forced himself to let go, afraid she’d changed her mind about what she wanted. Her eyes still sparkled with tears, making him want to kiss her all over again.

  He drew in a shaky breath. “What’s wrong? You don’t want this?” Disappo
intment

  settled like a brick in the center of his chest. He took a small step back.

  “Yes I do, it’s just that—” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her. A jolt of excitement plunged through him. Obviously whatever she wanted to say could wait a little longer. She kissed him with a passion he’d only fantasized about when he thought of her in his big empty house at night, and he responded by pulling her tight against him. When he felt her body meld to his, he broke from her kiss only long enough to press his lips against her neck, loving how it made her gasp.

  A loud rap at the door brought them back to reality.

  “Damn it.” He let her go, walked to the door and cracked it open. “What is it, Josie?”

  “Dorothy wants to know if you’ll be letting her see Gillian Heart any time today.”

  Will turned back to Gillian who was still catching her breath. He raised his eyebrows in question. She nodded, attempting to smooth her disheveled appearance. Thank heavens, because he definitely couldn’t be subjected to these kinds of office meetings every day and expect to not go crazy from wanting to kiss her.

  “She’ll be there in a few minutes.” He shut the door and walked back to Gillian. He grasped her hands, held them tight.

  “Listen, darlin’. I’ve been pulling my teeth out trying to figure how we can see each other and it not be as complicated for us as agent and client. That’s the real reason I put you with Dorothy.”

  She was silent for a few seconds. “So does this mean we get to go out on a date now?”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “Wow, a real date. No more fake coffee meetings.”

  “You figured out they were fake?”

  “It’d crossed my mind. But now if we go on a real date, what will we ever talk about?”

  He squeezed her hand. “You mean we have to talk?”

  That’d just slipped out. She playfully punched him in the arm. A rap on the door made them both jump.

  “Dorothy awaits.” He promised himself he’d explain about his telling the record executives about her dad later.

  She raised herself up on the toes of her boots to kiss him briefly on the mouth. He caught her by the waist, and an ache that started in the center of his chest spread through the rest of his body. Before he could stop himself, he was kissing her again.

  Chapter Ten

  A few weeks later, they were sitting on a secluded bench in Centennial Park and had been making out like two teenagers. They’d spent the afternoon at The Parthenon, a Nashville landmark Gillian had never visited before, then meandered through the park. The Tennessee heat had ebbed away, and a light breeze was flowing, giving Gillian a nostalgic feeling of home. It was nice to have no schedule for the weekend, something that hadn’t happened since she moved there.

  She leaned over and wrapped her arms around Will’s neck. “Kiss me again.”

  His lips were warm and urgent on hers. Emboldened by the knowledge that he felt the same for her as she did for him, she let her lips trail from his, to his slightly stubbled jaw, and finally the warm skin of his neck, causing him to emit a low moan. He caught her by the chin.

  “Gillian Heart, you make me want to behave like a rogue.”

  A thrill leapt through her, giving her the same feeling she’d always felt on the Ferris wheel during the Fourth of July celebration in Gold Creek Gap.

  “You aren’t a rogue.” She traced a hand up one lean, muscular arm. “But we are two grown individuals in a public park.”

  “At sunset,” he said. “That’s when I turn into a rogue.” He pulled her against him, his hands on her waist softly nudging away the barriers she’d erected to protect herself from men like Robert who use women, who leave their hearts bruised, and who leave, period.

  “Mmm,” she moaned. He nuzzled her neck, and shivers spread through her body.

  “You know,” he whispered, his voice gruff with heat. “We could take this back to your apartment.”

  Her heart was like a hummingbird caught in a cage. He probably wondered why this hadn’t happened already, but while her body was willing, her brain still wasn’t. What was she supposed to tell him? Um, sorry, I can’t have sex with you unless it’s for forever, as in I would prefer to be your wife first, since the last man I had a relationship with used my body and broke my heart. She ran a hand up his arm, enjoying the way he was built, because as protective as she was about her heart, she wasn’t immune to his charm or his physique.

  He kissed the skin below her ear, causing a shiver at the back of her neck.

  “What do you say, darlin’?”

  She pulled back, her mind clouded with a smoldering desire that was too easily smothered by memories of being hurt. Will’s reputation for trifling with women didn’t help at all in the trust department, either. She didn’t even want to think about how many times he must have taken a woman home. She, on the other hand, was a small-town, simple girl whose few experiences in relationships hadn’t taught her much about love, except that it ended in broken hearts. Running her hand affectionately along his arm, she teasingly squeezed his bicep and tried to change the subject.

  “You are very fit,” she said. “Especially for someone who happens to be a card-carrying workaholic.”

  “It’s from all the running. That’s why I’m so skinny.” He made a big show of flexing his guns. “Sorry I’m not a buff body builder. Is that your type?”

  “No.” She laughed at his antics. “But I wonder, do you run in boots or something?”

  “You think I live in cowboy boots?”

  “No, but you would if you could.”

  He laughed, reminding her how she loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “I do mostly live in boots, but I take them off when I need to.” She didn’t miss the implication behind his words. He tipped her chin up, taking her face in his hands. His lips were gentle, tender, slow—tantalizingly slow. A sigh slipped from her as quiet as the rustle of breeze in the trees of the park.

  “Take me home,” she said. In the fading light, his eyes brightened. “Just for a drink,” she added coyly.

  “We’ll see about that,” he said, pulling her to her feet and leading her toward his truck.

  ~~~~

  Inside her apartment, she ran around picking up stray clothing and Tasha’s coffee cups, which Tasha had a way of leaving all over the place. She gathered a pile of magazines to move them out of the way.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I need to clean this place up.”

  “If you’d move in with me, you wouldn’t have to. I have a housekeeper.”

  She froze in place, waiting for her heart to start beating again.

  “What?”

  “Move in with me,” he said.

  Her face flooded with heat.

  She cleared her throat. “Why would you want me to do that? Are you wanting to help me out or something? Because Tasha and I are doing fine here.” She gestured around her tiny apartment.

  “Sure. I’d like to help you out.” He grinned. “I have a list of things I could help you with, if you moved in with me.”

  “I’m sure you do,” she said, enjoying his little game. “How much would rent be?”

  “No rent.”

  She grinned. “Are you serious, or is that another come-on line?”

  His expression grew thoughtful. “It’s actually not a come-on line, unless you want it to be.”

  He took the magazines she held and tossed them to the coffee table. Her heartbeat quickened when they slid sideways to reveal several bridal titles. Reading bride magazines was one of the things she and Tasha did to unwind after work while they watched romantic movies, flipping through the magazines like two teenage girls and planning their weddings. They each had a Pinterest board for the same purpose, and a few days ago Tasha had played a joke on her by pinning a picture of Will Adams in a cowboy hat on Gillian’s wedding board. Thank goodness Will wasn’t the pin board type.

  She noted the smile
on his face and wondered if he was serious about the moving in or just teasing her. They didn’t know each other well enough to be moving in together.

  “When does Tasha get home?” he asked.

  “She’s in Memphis visiting her family.”

  “So you’re all alone?” He grinned like a Cheshire cat.

  “Yes. A drink?”

  “Definitely.”

  She grabbed a Coke and a beer. They toasted the fact that they’d found each other as they leaned against the counter side by side.

  “I’m serious about you moving in,” he said. Setting his beer down, he moved closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I want to spend a heck of a lot more time with you and not just when we’re working.”

  The idea of moving in with him sent a thrill right through her, and then it soured in her stomach. Someone else had asked her to move in once, and it had ended badly.

  “We’re not working now,” she said.

  “That’s a good point,” he said. “Which means we should be talking less and doing more of this.” He pressed his lips softly against hers, teasing, and then he leaned lower to trail kiss after kiss along her neck, causing little shivers to dance across her skin. A sigh escaped her lips, and she leaned her head just so, letting him know he could keep doing that. Before she realized it, so swept away with her desire to be touched by him, he’d picked her up and set her on the countertop in front of him. She gasped when he inched her shirt up, sending a surge of heat through her body.

  Will whispered between kisses. “You know I’m serious, don’t you? Move in with me. We could be alone like this all the time.”

  “Hmm. Tempting.” He had no idea.

  “How tempting?”

  “More than you know,” she said, breathless.

  He pulled back to look at her. “The idea of living together makes you nervous.”

  She kissed him on the cheek. “It’s not my style to move in with someone because we’re dating. Been there and done that. It turned out badly.”

  Letting go, he leaned back on the counter beside her and took a long drink. She tried to read how disappointed he was about her response, but if she was going to date someone like Will, she needed to let him know her standards. She needed to know what he thought of them. She wasn’t going to be in a situation like the last one, where she had given up everything to a man, and got nothing but pain and sorrow in return. No wonder there were so many country songs about cheating and broken hearts. They were based on truth.