AllFreeNovel
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“Dad!”
I’m in the kitchen, tidying up from dinner. Scarlett’s only been gone for roughly twenty-four hours, and I’m already going out of my mind. I hate that she’s not just a few yards away where I can see her or talk to her or hold her whenever I want. She belongs here, in New Hope, not across the country.
And I’m a dick for feeling this way. I know it. She’s just doing her damn job, the same way I do when I put on the uniform every day and get into my squad car.
I have to share Scarlett with about forty million of her fans.
I’ve just never been very good at sharing.
And I’m taking my frustrations out on an innocent skillet, scrubbing it to within an inch of its life.
“Dad, did you hear me?”
“What’s up, Chlo?”
“You have to see this! Scarlett’s on the red carpet!”
I reach for a towel to dry my hands and hurry into the living room, where Chloe’s watching some entertainment show.
And sure enough, there’s my girl. Scarlett is dressed in a form-fitting red dress that stops about mid-thigh. Her legs are bare, and she’s in a pair of red shoes that I can easily picture dangling from her feet as her calves are propped on my shoulders.
Down, boy.
“Oh, she’s so pretty! That dress is just…wow. There’s no way you’d ever let me wear something like that. Who’s the guy she’s with?” Chloe asks with a frown, and for the first time since I walked into the room, my gaze shifts from the woman I’m in love with to the man she’s draped around. “Wait. That’s Chase Walker. Holy crap, he’s amazing, Dad! I have all of his songs on my iPad. And he’s hot. Like, beyond hot. The way he dances is just dreamy. Do you think she could get me an autograph?”
“First of all, you’re too young to look at men like that.” She rolls her eyes, but I keep talking. “And second, shush.”
My eyes narrow. They’re both being interviewed, but I can’t hear the questions over the roaring in my ears. Scarlett, my Scarlett, is sidled up next to this idiot, leaning into him as if they’re more than just friends, while she smiles at the interviewer.
Do I have things wrong? Is she just fucking around with me while she’s here in town, just something to keep her occupied until she goes back to her real life and this Chase dude?
My immediate reaction is hell no. We mean way too much to each other for that shit.
But my eyes can’t deny what’s right in front of me.
I shake my head and turn back to the kitchen.
“Dad, don’t you want to watch this?”
“No,” I reply, my voice flat. “I don’t have any interest at all in watching that.”
I feel like a chump. Of course, Scarlett freaking Kincaid isn’t interested in anything long-term with me. I mean, look at her life. She’s all premieres and award shows. Tours and studio recordings.
She lives in Nashville, Tennessee. Not New Hope, South Carolina.
She’s here to take care of her dad. End of story.
And it’s best for everyone if I remember that.
14
~Scarlett~
“You’ve gained ten pounds.”
I frown at Maureen in the mirror. She’s the only person I know who can have ten pins pursed in her lips and still speak clearly.
“I’ve been taking care of my dad for a few weeks, Mo. I always gain a couple after I come off tour.”
“This is more than a couple.” She gives me the stink-eye, and I can’t help but laugh. “You think it’s funny, but it makes my job a shitshow.”
“You’re the best. And you know my body better than anyone. You’ve got this.”
“Humph.”
She scowls as she works on the side of the dress that Valentino sent over for tonight’s premiere. Mo’s been with me since my very first tour. At first, she just handled all of my onstage costumes, but as time passed, I asked for her to be my seamstress not only on the road but also for all of my events.
Like I said, Mo knows my body, and even with a few extra pounds, she’ll make me look amazing.
“We told Valentino you were a size four,” she insists.
“So, what am I now? A six?”
“Listen here, sassy pants, a six is way different than a four. You’re lucky they included some extra give in the seams so I can let it out where it needs it.”
“Like I said, you’ve got this.”
She rolls her eyes, and I gasp when she gets a little too close with the pins.
“Hey!”
“Serves you right.”
Mo’s in her late fifties. Her gray hair is long and frizzy, her face clean of makeup, and her voice is rough from too many years smoking cigarettes. I’ve never seen her without a tape measure around her neck.
She’s one of my favorite people in the world.
