With one hand on the wheel of Sully’s old red pick-up truck and the other holding mine, Ford grins like the cat who got the cream as we drive off Whispering Willows property. He takes a left, moving away from Circle H, and I frown, trying to remember where he could be taking us.
Rather than ask again for the tenth time, I sit back and watch our surroundings whizz past until we turn right, driving beneath an enormous wooden sign with the wordsNorth Star Ranchemblazoned across.
“North—as in the musicians, right?”
Ford nods before glancing at me, his eyes twinkling with knowledge of something I’m clearly not aware of until he elaborates. “And though it hasn’t been formally announced, my good friends Sutton and Caden are launching a record label.”
“Arecord label? Wow, with their industry knowledge, that’s bound to be a success.”
“I reckon it’ll be epic. And I’m not above asking for a favor.”
I shoot him a confused look as we turn off the wide, tree-lined road and onto the driveway of one of the most beautiful houses I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t look like your average working ranch with massive floor-to-ceiling windows and wide black doors, not to mention landscaping that wouldn’t be out of place in a fine gardening magazine.
As I’m so focused on my surroundings, I completely miss the part where Ford puts the truck in park and slips out to open my door, extending a hand as a grin lingers on his lips.
It’s only then his words sink in, and I frown as I question. “What favor would you need that requires a record label?”
I place my hand in his, allowing him to help me from the vehicle before he loops his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close against his side. His eyes are bright, filled with adoration that makes my stomach fill with butterflies as he winks.
“I’ve decided to get into the business of wish fulfillment, Tink. And first on the list is my aspiringsingersister, Lissie, who just so happens to possess a beautiful voice. However, as she also possesses exceptionally low self-esteem, we’re somewhat at an impasse in making her dream a reality.”
Awareness dawns as a man with shoulder-length grey hair walks through the wide double front door. His lined face lights up with a genuinely happy smile when his eyes land on Ford, and he stops at the top step, looking down at us as he claps his hands exaggeratedly.
“Look who finally came to visit. And with a girl, too!”
Ford snorts as he pulls me up the steps before hugging the older man with his free arm.
“Good to see you too, Sutton.”
He pivots around to me, opening his mouth to make introductions, but our companion cuts him off.
“If you’re about to introduce me to Emerson Hart, save yourself the hassle, son.” His dark brown eyes twinkle in such a devilish manner, I can’t stop myself from grinning like a fool as I hang on his every word. “There’s not a man, woman, or child who doesn’t know who this beauty is.”
As my cheeks pinken, he extends his arm, which I take, leaving a sniggering Ford to follow along behind us.
“Welcome to North Star, Miss Hart. I’m Sutton.”
He brings me through the main doors, where the house opens into an open plan, moving past the enormous kitchen at a speed I wouldn’t expect from a man his age.
“Wonderful to meet you, Sutton. And please, call me Emmy.”
He smiles kindly, ducking outside onto a vast patio and leading us around the side of the house toward a separate building in the distance.
“Well, Emmy, I’ve had plenty of visitors here over the years, but I’ve never had America’s Sweetheart grace our not-so-humble abode.”
I can feel my blush deepen as Ford comes to my rescue, leaning forward to open the door of our destination. He ushers Sutton inside first, hugging me to his side as we enter together.
One wall is lined with all manner of instruments, and as I walk farther, I spot a state-of-the-art recording booth to my right containing a full-size grand piano.
“Where did you rush off to, Jess?” Sutton’s British voice carries through the space. “We’re not finished with the rift yet, kid.”
As he finishes his sentence, a younger man, maybe around twenty years old, walks down a staircase to my left. I immediately recognize him as Caden North’s son, Jesse, as they could be carbon copies of one another.
His dirty blonde hair is in a messy topknot at the back of his head, and his neatly groomed facial hair lends a chiseled look to his jaw. He’s wearing a navy t-shirt and light blue jeans frayed around the seams. His feet are bare, and knowing from my teenage obsession with Misdirection, that was his father’s preferred way to perform, I can’t stop myself from smiling brightly.
Eyes like sapphires glance up from the cell phone in his hand as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, widening when they land on me before moving to Ford’s arm around my shoulder.
He shakes his head with a wry smile for Ford. “You realize Emerson Hart is light years out of your league, right, Holloway?”
