“We really don’t have to do this,” I suggested, hoping he’d let us move past this and onto the real reason I was here.
“Actually, we do. Because despite the bullshit you pulled Saturday and this façade you’re trying to put on about not being interested, that kiss just said otherwise.”
Irritation galloped over my face. “Okay. You want to go there?” I asked. “For starters, I’m assuming the bullshit you’re referring to is when I turned you down? That wasn’t bullshit; that was me protecting myself from you. I know you try to pretend like you’re a good guy, and for a millisecond, I almost believed you. But then I overheard you telling Mark that you want to write this whole damn album for some girl. Meanwhile, you’re hiding out from god knows what in Quincey Falls, doing your damnedest tocompletely wrap me up in your bullshit.” The words had sprung from my brain and out of my mouth without my permission.
“Girl?” He stood, walking closer to where I was standing across the room.
Ignoring him, I continued. “And maybe if I were five years younger, hadn’t been humiliated by my ex, and didn’t have a horrible track record with one-night stands,maybeI’d toy with the idea of a spontaneous hookup with the country star who came into town and swept me off my feet. But I’m not any of those things.”
His cowboy boots clanked on the unfinished floor as he stepped closer, leaving only a breath between us.
Even now after all of that, I could feel pieces of me gravitating toward him.
“Not that I owe you this, but for what it’s worth, the girl I’m writing this album for isn’t the kind of girl you’re thinking.”
“Whatever that means,” I scoffed.
But sadness washed over him, catching me off guard. I watched as his shoulders dropped. “About a year ago, I lost my best friend and his wife in a tragic car accident. They had a daughter. Thankfully, she wasn’t in the car, but she probably wishes she were, because I have to imagine the pain she’s endured since is far worse than dying would’ve been. That day at their funeral, watching her young body hold so much poise and composure… it was eye-opening. If she could get through this, then I sure as hell needed to figure out how to get through it, and most importantly, in a way that would make her proud. So, that’s what I’m doing. I’m writing an album for her, for Ruby.” He released the last words almost as if they’d finally been freed from within.
There it is.
That was when everything shifted for him. He’d lost someone, and if I said I knew how that could change a person, I meant I really knew.
“Stetson, I—” I rushed to apologize to him, to comfort him, something, but he wouldn’t allow me to finish.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to being judged, and hell, I even deserve most of it. I don’t expect you to see me any differently than anyone else.”
But in a wild way, I did now, at least a little bit. So much of what he’d just said made the little parts of him make far more sense. And now between the kiss and this new information, my body was buzzing from all kinds of emotions.
“Let’s just get back to the article,” he said, his once warm and welcoming body now cold and shut off.
I nodded, pulling my computer and journal from my bag. “Why Quincey Falls?” I asked, shocking myself with how quickly I returned to professional Scarlett.
“Why not?” he responded, a sense of hesitancy filling the space between us. “It’s the kind of town every cowboy dreams about. It’s quaint, quiet, and allows space for good old-fashioned thinking.”
He wasn’t wrong. Quincey Falls was exactly that. And even though we were housing one of country music’s biggest stars for the foreseeable future, everyone had let Stetson be.
Well, almost everyone.
Over the next hour or so, I asked all the basic questions and received all the basic answers. It was almost as if I’d lost the privilege of his vulnerability for the time being, and after everything that’d just happened, I wasn’t going to pry. Not today.
“That should be good for today,” I said, shutting my laptop. “I plan on popping into the studio every now and then to get bits and pieces for the article, if that’s all right with you?”
“You already know the answer to that,” he said, his tone bordering the line between sarcasm and rudeness.
“And if you have anything that you specifically want me to cover, just let me know. I’m definitely open to suggestions. Here’s my number,” I said, handing over a piece of paper. “For article purposes only,” I clarified, holding on to the paper until he acknowledged my comment.
“Article purposes only,” he repeated, very harshly.
I grabbed all my stuff and headed for the door.
“Scarlett—” His voice had returned to its vulnerable state. “Please don’t tell anyone what I told you today. Ruby is very important to me, and so is her privacy.”
I stood silent, my back to Stetson with half of my body through the door.
“It’s safe with me, I promise.”
“And Scarlett?”
