Page 38 of Tennessee Trouble

“Bullshit.”

I call him on it, not wasting any time. He couldn’t turn down Mikayla’s ask fast enough this morning. Not that I blame him; it was a big ask. But there’s also no way he changed his mind that fast. Nor that he acted on talking to the star himself.

“Need me to prove it?”

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Brandt holds it up, showing it off like he won the blue ribbon for best pie at the fair. His eyes are still deep and soulful, sucking me in for a second. They’ll hold me hostage if I let them, and I know I need to keep my distance. He’s dangerous.

He’s also not waiting for an answer.

Next thing I know, he’s got it on speaker, the sound of ringing filling the air. Then a voice comes through the line. A voice I have heard a hundred times before. Just never this up close and personal.

“Hey, Brandt.”

Holy shit—that’s Dustin Wild. As in the Dustin Wild.

“Hey, Dustin, need your help for a second,” Brandt says, loud enough I think he can probably be heard in the lobby. “I’ve got Lindee Murray standing here with me. Can you tell her what we were just talking about a minute ago?”

“Hi, Lindee.”

“H-h-hi…” I squeak. OMG, that’s Dustin Wild…

“Brandt and I were just talking about possibly bringing one of your brands on as a sponsor.”

Everything goes quiet. Everything except the pounding of my heart against my chest. Speeding up, the throbbing is the only thing I can hear. Each beat punctuated by Dustin’s words.

Possibly bringing one of your brands on as a sponsor…

Brandt wasn’t lying.

Which means maybe he wasn’t lying about everything else.

“Hey, Kenzie’s calling,” Dustin cuts back in. “We’ll figure out details later.”

The call disconnects, Brandt completely unfazed by the lack of goodbye. I, on the other hand, am still trying to process this.

“You’re going to let us co-sponsor the tour?”

One side of Brandt’s mouth lifts, contradicting the seriousness in his eyes. “It’s not that easy. There are contracts, secondary rights, and lawyers, and it could get kinda messy…so I thought I’d do one better. I talked to Dustin about giving y’all a custom drink at Fire Lights, the honky-tonk he owns on Broadway.”

“You can do that?”

“Just did. You heard the man.”

I rock backward, the news hitting me hard. Like a wave you didn’t see coming while standing on the shore. A custom drink in one of the premier bars on Broadway in Nashville. It’s too good to be true.

Like, actually too good to be true. In a way that is starting to make me question everything again.

“Brandt…” I swallow hard, trying to find the guts to say this. “I need you to please be honest with me. Like, really, really honest.”

“I’ve never lied to you, Lindee.” He takes another step toward me, but I scoot to the side, keeping the distance between us. “We agreed to fake names, but everything else I told you was true. Cross my heart.”

I believe him. Not sure why, but I do.

“You’re not just saying this? The idea of a drink isn’t because you think that’s what I want to hear?”

Brow knitting, Brandt cocks his head to the side, confusion taking over. Rocking back on his heels, he studies me, same as I did him earlier, like he can’t figure out why I would think such a thing.

“Not at all.” He pauses, then nods. “Can I ask you something?”