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He grins and takes a couple as well. “Mabel make these?”
I nod, my mouth full of muffin.
“Sweet!” Kenny chimes in, helping himself as well.
“Mabel and John get off okay this morning?” Blake asks.
I chew and swallow, then confirm they did.
The rest of the guys are discussing the summer fair, which isn’t surprising. Oak Grove’s main summer attraction opens Wednesday and runs through Sunday. But opening night is always the biggest attraction. Partially because of…me.
Every year for the past decade, I’ve performed. A couple of years, when I was out on tour, I flew in just for a few hours to perform. I didn’t even make it to the ranch.
It’s expected this year will be no different.
And it won’t be—from the outside. I fully intend to step onto that stage and run through my biggest hits. But this will be the first time I’m performing since deciding to step away from music, and I’m more nervous about it than the very first time I performed for a crowd.
Not only does it feel like I’m carrying a secret—not announcing that this will be my final live performance—but it’s also taking place on the stage where my career began. The only place my mom ever saw me perform. At the event that’s the pride and joy of the town I’ve always called home.
So, yeah, I’m anxious about it.
“Who isthat?” Luke suddenly says.
None of the guys are eating or talking any longer. They’re all staring behind me.
I spin slowly, grappling with a rising sense of dread.
Piper is strolling toward the shed, wearing jean shorts that show off her long legs and a wide smile that’s definitely not aimed at me.
I sigh and turn back around, hoping she’ll continue walking toward the bunkhouse. “She works for my record label.”
Kenny whistles long and low, and I glare at him.
“What? She’s hot.”
“She’s basically stalking me,” I bite out.
Harsh, but technically true. Who flies hundreds of miles and camps out in someone’s yard forwork?
“Fangirl?” Duncan wags his eyebrows.
Kenny asks if she’s single.
Luke wonders how old she is.
“Piper isn’t a fan of country music,” I answer Duncan, but ignore Kenny and Luke since I’m not interested in continuing with this topic of conversation. Also, I don’t know the answers to their questions.
There’s a petulant edge to my response, one the guys don’t catch because they’re too busy ogling the woman in question.
ButInotice it, and it bothers me. Because I really shouldn’t give a shit if she likes my songs or not.
“Hey, guys.”
Apparently, she’snotwalking to the bunkhouse.
“Hi,Pi-per.” Kenny speaks before I have the chance to, giving away that we were discussing her when that’s nothing I want her to know. “I’m Kenny.”
I strive for the easy indifference of not caring what Piper does as I spin around to face her.
