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CHAPTER 42
Reed
One Week Later
* * *
We’ve been in Nashville for two days and it’s been close to the two best days of my life. Callie is actually happy. I took her around town, and gave her a private tour of the Ryman Auditorium. We sat in the empty venue, and I told her what it felt like to sing on the stage of the Grand Ole Opry for the first time. I even confessed that I imagined she was in the audience with me. That made her cry, but I needed her to know that in so many ways she was with me through every bit of my journey.
Now we’re pulling up to one of Nashville’s best restaurants—The Catbird Seat. They’re normally booked up well in advance. Times like this are why star power comes in handy.
I get out and go around to help her, tossing the keys to the valet.
“What’s this place?” she asks, and I can tell she sounds nervous, but it hasn’t erased the joy I can see on her face. I want her to feel nothing but happiness tonight.
“This place serves fettuccine that is going to change your life,” I answer with a grin.
“Then, I’ll be sure to order something else because I’m finding I like my life just the way it is these days,” she says. Her words momentarily rob me of air. I can’t do anything but kiss her lips gently, tasting her and realizing that finally, after all this time, things are moving in the direction they should have all along.
“God, I love you, Bluebird,” I confess, kissing her forehead and just staying like that for a minute, oblivious to the crowd outside around us.
Her hand comes up to gently touch the side of my face. Her gaze zeros in on me and nothing else. “I love you.” Every single time she says those three little words, some of the damage the past inflicted on me is healed. I pray with everything inside of me that I do the same for her.
We go inside and the hostess seats us right away. I can feel Callie tense up beside me. She tightens her hold on me, and I give her a reassuring squeeze. I keep her body close to mine. This is a test, I know it is, but I want to prove to her that she’s remarkable. My girl can truly do anything she puts her mind to. I mean, she’s already been doing it. She travels to work and meets new people and places every other week. She does that to challenge herself—plain and simple. Callie may not recognize that, but I do.
We order our food, our hands still joined. Then again, I couldn’t let go of her if I tried.
“Decided to live dangerously and order the fettucine anyway, huh?”
“My boyfriend is stubborn. If it does change my life, he’d find me and drag me back. That’s who he is.”
“Stubborn asshole, huh?”
“He’s perfect actually.”
“Nobody is perfect, honey,” I warn her, but she just shakes her head.
“Well, okay, he does have one flaw.”
“What’s that?” I laugh.
“He’s really cocky,” she giggles.
Dinner goes off without a hitch. We spend it talking about my meeting with the record company and what I wanted to achieve by moving back to Macon. Callie confessed she was getting tired of travel nursing and was thinking of taking a job in Macon. I personally would rather she didn’t work—mostly because I’m a selfish asshole and just want her close by all the time. Still, I want her to be happy and if she loves working, I’ll support her in any way I can.
“What have you got planned?” she asks, her eyes narrowing.
“What makes you ask that?” I say, as my hand slips into the pocket of my jeans and I turn my attention back to our conversation.
“Because you have that look that usually scares me,” she says, taking a drink of her water.
“Are you scared?” I ask, my hand wrapping around the small box I have in my pocket.
“It’s odd, but I’m not. I’m safe with you.” Her words mean the world to me. Before I can get the time to tell her that, there are flashes going off around us.
“Ryker!” someone calls, and I wince.
“Ryker Lane! Is it true you’re here because you’re moving to Texas?”
“Ryker! Can you confirm your manager has sued you for breach of contract? Would you care to comment?”
“Fuck,” I hiss, as the paparazzi take picture after picture.
Callie’s face goes pale. Her eyes are almost vacant as she looks around. I literally see the color leaching out of her face.
“Bluebird, look at me,” I command, making my voice gentle but firm.
“I—”
“Who’s the girl, Ryker? Does this mean you and Anna King are officially over?”
“Anna King and I were never on,” I yell—which is the wrong thing to do, because the tone of my voice jars an already panicked Callie. Her hand jerks out of mine, and she pulls it back against her body. Regrettably, she hits her wine glass, knocking it over. Wine goes everywhere.
