Jamie didn’t stop laughing for a good five minutes. “I like your family,” he said.
“Good. I’ll loan them to you sometime.” She tried to swallow her smile, but it was impossible when his was blinding.
He stepped closer, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her into him. He smelled as good as he always did. She let herself melt into the hard planes of his chest.
Tipping his head to her ear, Jamie whispered, “You look incredible in that dress. I don’t know how I’m gonna concentrate.”
“I was afraid it was…too much.”
“Bee, I couldn’t ever get enough,” he said, kissing her softly on the cheek.
She thought about what might happen in the rom-com of her fantasies and skipped straight to the good part. She caught his lips, keeping his same gentle pressure, teasing his mouth open with her tongue. Jamie cradled the back of her head, pulling her closer with one hand so he could explore her deeper, his silken tongue flooding her with effervescent want. With his free hand, he caressed her bare back. She questioned how quickly she could get out of this dress.
After a few blissful minutes, he broke their kiss.
“I’m definitely not complaining,” he said, breathing heavily, his cheeks stained a distinct shade of take-me-now. “But we should get going. Lots on the agenda.” He gently sucked on her bottom lip, drawing out the tiniest whimper. He groaned in return.
“Can I get a hint?” she asked, equally breathless.
“Yeah. Hope you like cold beer.”
Not long later,Jamie led Brinton into the Mockingbird Cafe, Iris’s locals-beloved, drop-in-when-you-fancy listening room. He was ecstatic to show her where many country hopefuls played to their first crowds, including his father, and years later, himself. This was home. Jamie wanted Brinton to experience, in one place, all the reasons why he loved country music.
The venue was small and held only a few hundred people, with tables scattered around the modest stage and a battered, wood-topped bar along the back wall. The floors were always a little sticky, the amplifiers a little too loud. The smell of crispy fried chicken mingled with sweet-smokey whiskey. It wasn’t fancy, but it was as real as it got.
A bouncer with a jet-black mullet and a septum piercing enthusiastically patted Jamie on the shoulder with a hand as big as Brinton’s head, then led them to a small, roped-off table near the stage. The place was completely empty.
Brinton’s eyes cut around the room. “Am I about to get pranked or something, because I feel like there should be more people here?”
Jamie nodded and grinned. “Yeah, typically it’s standing-room only, no matter what time or day. I wanted us to have a little privacy, so I called in a favor.”
Brinton’s eyes narrowed knowingly. “Sammi?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “She’s gonna make me wash her truck in a leopard thong, but you are beyond worth the pruney cheeks.” Jamie then pulled out a stool for her as “Tennessee Whiskey” blanketed the cozy room.
“I recognize this song from your playlist,” Brinton said, leaning close to him. “Chris Stapleton is amazing. I think I’m slowly becoming a country convert.”
He squeezed her bare knee, a coy grin on his face. “That’s my girl.”
A waitress with pink cat-eye frames brought over twobottles of beer. Jamie thanked her and waved to a man with thick blond corkscrews behind the bar.
“So, what’s it like being so famous that people send you free drinks?”
“Hmm, exhausting,” he said lightly. “But it’d be a crime to waste good whiskey and beer.”
They clinked their bottles.
“Congress is working on a bill as we speak.” She laughed, rolling her eyes.
He kissed her neck, lingering enough to breathe in her scent. She smelled as good as a first kiss or making love in the stillness of midnight. Sweet and addictive.
“I think you’re gonna love this next singer, Kadidja Wilde,” he said. “I recently discovered her music, so she’s not on your playlist yet, but she’s my new favorite. Her voice is so raw and powerful. And her storytelling…She’s not afraid to call out how supremely fucked up and ugly the world can be. Still, she makes it feel like poetry.”
Brinton tipped her head on his shoulder as he massaged her hand in between his.
“I love how passionately you talk about music. Like it’s part of you on a vital, cellular level.”
Jamie nuzzled her temple, desperate to getcloser. “I think you bring it out of me.”
