“That’s a secret,” he said, and the lighthearted flirt in his tone was as tangible as a touch. “Which I’m willing to share, if you are. A secret for a secret.”
So annoying!Hunter could make her feel safe and defensive all at the same time. Once upon a time she’d shared all of herself with him—and he’d given his heart to a social media socialite. “I’ll pass.”
“Later, then,” he said as if it were the start of a conversation instead of the send-off. “Probably for the best, since the label wants to get started on the rest of the album right away.”
“The rest of the album? So you’re keeping the songs I sent over?” she asked casually, as if her future happiness didn’t rely on his answer.
“Seems so,” Hunter said, his fingers stopping for only a moment before going back to work.
“You told Brody you wouldn’t record an album created by a mishmash of writers ever again,” she said. “That you ‘being a creative part behind every song on the album’ was important.”
“Nonnegotiablewas the term I used,” he said. “And it still stands, so when Brody sent your songs to my label and they fell in love, our fate was sealed, Trouble.” He lowered his voice and whispered through the screen, “Whoops, I blew the secret. I choose you. Think of how fun it will be. Just like old times.”
Yeah, she’d barely made it through those old times. It wasn’t a road she wanted to head back down.
“We will not have old times or new times.” She set the guitar on the ground and walked over to the window. Even though he wasn’t in his work harness, Muttley stood and came to her side. “I’m not writing this album with you.”
“Write it with me or don’t. But for the next three weeks, I will be right here, making music, the way we used to.”
“Oh no you won’t.” She closed one window and locked it, then moved to the other, Muttley growling at the back door. “You are not going to camp out on my porch. I have work to do.”
“Sounded like you were a little stuck on that last riff. Need help?”
Did she ever. Not that she would admit that. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Your lucky sweatshirt says differently,” he mused. “We can add that song to the agenda. Unless it was already for me.”
“It is not. And there is no ‘we,’” she argued, closing another window. “There isme, going into my studio to work, andyouheading to the studio to meet with your new team.”
She was struggling with the last window when Hunter spoke. And Mackenzie knew he was right on the other side of the screen. “See, that’s the problem, Trouble. If I walk in there to meet with them, the label will look at it as a done deal and we’ll be stuck with a writer who, yeah, is talented but doesn’t know what direction to go in or avoid. It will be like the last album all over again, and I can’t do that to the guys.”
But he could do this to her.
Mackenzie’s throat tightened. “How is everyone?”
“They miss you,” he said quietly.
She missed them too. At one time, those guys had made up a huge part of her world. “I heard Paul got married.”
“Married with twins. Girls,” Hunter said, and Mackenzie snorted. She couldn’t help it. Paul, the band’s playboy and self-proclaimed bachelor, was a daddy. Of girls. Oh, karma could be so cruel.
“What about Quinn?” she asked. “Don’t tell me he’s a dad too.”
“No, but he’s got a serious lady friend,” he said with a heaviness to his voice that had Mackenzie hesitating on closing the last window. “They just bought a house out in Franklin and are talking about making it official after the next tour ends.”
Mackenzie’s eyes pricked at the realization that everyone had grown up and moved on. Found their place, their partner, and she was still stuck right where she’d been the day she’d walked away.
“But if I don’t come up with a solid set, we lose it all, Mackenzie,” Hunter said, and she could hear the raw truth in his tone. Gone was the easygoing charm and swagger, leaving behind nothing but desperation. And so much uncertainty that Mackenzie wondered if he was stuck too.
Sure, he’d been off traveling all around the country, living a large and vivid life, but that didn’t mean that he’d found his place. And that was something she could relate to.
“This isn’t just about me anymore,” he added. “There are a lot of families counting on me to hit it out of the park, but all I keep scoring is singles.”
She knew how that felt. Brody, Tia, and Muttley were counting on her to do things she wasn’t entirely certain she could do. And while disappointing them was terrifying, facing all her demons at once seemed impossible. Especially since these were battles she had to fight alone.
“You have some really great writers at your disposal,” she said. “Writers who have the talent to take you the distance.”
“But I need someone who knows how much distance we can cover, because all they know is where it started,” he said. “You know me better than anyone, Mackenzie. You and I are like one when we write.”
