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Eighteen
In his parents’ backyard, Cash sat, a glass of iced tea sweating in his hand. His brothers surrounded him in a semicircle. Dad manned the grill, chatting with their mom, Dana, who micromanaged Dad in her own irritating, sweet way. Travis Sutherland informed his wife of this moments before he dipped her over one arm and kissed her. Dana giggled and swatted him when he set her on her feet again.
Cash didn’t feel like smiling, but he smiled. His parents had such a laidback, loving relationship. How did they do it?
Though he’d been trying to shake it, frustration coated him like a sheen of oil. As pissed off as he was that Presley had circumvented him and lied, he knew there was nothing evil behind her intentions. Oversights happened. He knew how badly she wanted to win. At one point he’d been as blindly ambitious as she was, and it’d cost him the ultimate price: her. How could he fault her for doing the same now without being a total hypocrite?
He wanted to believe she’d have come to him before running the article. He was angrier that she’d been poking around about “Lightning” at all. The truth—that Presley had inspired the song he’d written while high on heartbreak after their brief relationship—was one he’d intended to take to his grave.
He’d been in love with her back then. In love and in complete denial. Until they’d made love on his couch, the rain hitting the windows behind him, did he realize what he’d lost to her. That hollow, empty feeling in his chest was because his missing heart had gone to Presley Cole.
He’d been so focused on his dreams back when they’d been in college, on escaping the football-and-business degree trajectory he’d been on, that he’d been single-minded about leaving. He’d convinced himself then that what he and Pres had shared was too short-lived to be real and lasting love. Only in hindsight had he realized he’d blown it with her, and only recently had he realized that falling in love with her was easy when he’d never fallen out.
“Things are going good,” Luke, his hand wrapped around a beer bottle resting on his knee, remarked.
Cash jerked out of his thoughts and focused on his brother. “At the bar?”
“No, man. With your girl. Things are going good with Presley.”
Cash followed his brother’s gaze across the yard to where Presley stood with Hannah and Hallie. Pres was wearing a green dress with tiny pink flowers on it, and a pair of bright white sneakers. Her hair was back in a ponytail, showing off her cute ears and sun-kissed cheekbones. She was girl-next-door irresistible, but capable of being his bad girl whenever he slipped her out of her clothes. And when she made mistakes, she apologized for them. She tried to make everything right even when it didn’t serve her best interests.
She was perfect.
“She’s going home tomorrow,” Cash told Luke. No matter how perfect she was, or how he felt about her, she wasn’t staying.
“And you’re letting her?” Luke chuffed.
“This proves it,” Gavin butted in. “I’m the smart one. You let her go again, you’re an idiot.”
Cash sipped his iced tea and decided silence was his best ally. At this rate his only ally. Then he opened his mouth to defend himself anyway. “She was never staying. You knew that.”
“I didn’t know you’d talk her into staying longer and show up in town with her hand in yours.” Gavin’s eyebrows lifted, daring Cash to argue.
“Florida’s not that far away,” Luke commented. “It’s a day’s drive. A shorter flight.”
“And when would I have time to drive or fly to Florida?” Irritated, Cash shifted in his lawn chair. “Between albums? Or during the tour?”
“Damn, sorry I brought it up.” Luke took a swig from his beer.
So was Cash. His darkest worry was that a precious part of Presley would forever hate him for leaving her that dark night in her dorm room. That she’d never truly trust him since she knew firsthand he was capable of walking away and never looking back.
“Meat’s done, thank God. I’m starving,” Will announced, rejoining his brothers. “Damn. What did I miss? Cash looks grumpier than usual. What are you worried about? We have the album on lock. You guys hear ‘Back for Good’ yet?” he asked Gav and Luke.
“Yeah,” Luke confirmed at the same time Gavin said, “Not yet.”
“Well, you should. I think Presley’s right,” Will said. “She thinks it should be Cash’s first single.”
“It’s a ballad,” Luke said, wrinkling his nose. “Guess it depends on the month it drops.”
“Country music is nothing but ballads and bar songs,” Gavin put in.
“It’s a hit. Trust me,” Will said.
Sick of everyone talking about him like he wasn’t sitting there, Cash barked, “I’m trashing that song.”
“What?” Will asked, predictably incensed.
“You heard me. I’m rewriting it. That track we laid down is no good.”
