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She smiled as if she could read his thoughts.“Well, if you forget it, you know where I live.”
He did.He just didn’t know for how long.He wanted to ask the question so he could mark it on his calendar—so he would at least know when to expect the pain.But then he realized it was better if he didn’t know.All he would do was count down every second, instead of enjoying the time he had.
“See you later, Deckster.”She leaned in and gave him one more heated kiss before she turned and presented him with the view of twin butt cheeks peeking out from beneath the edge of his wet shirt as she splashed her way onto the bank.As soon as she reached it, she was surrounded by her sisters like bees to their queen.
Sweetiewasa queen.Somehow Decker had gotten his hands on her.If only for a brief time.
Decker continued to stand there until the Holiday sisters disappeared into the trees and their laughter and voices faded away.Then he turned to the full moon and let out a whoop that could be heard in the next county.
ChapterSixteen
Decker didn’t forget Sweetie’s number.Her cellphone rang the following morning bright and early, waking her out of a sound sleep.She reached for it and pulled it under the covers to look at the screen.She didn’t recognize the number, but she knew it was Decker.Decker was reliable.If he said he would call, he would call.
So why wasn’t she answering?
She wanted to.Her heart thumped madly at just the thought of Decker saying good morning in his husky, bedroom voice.But now that her head wasn’t filled with elderberry wine and a starry sky and a handsome lawman with the prettiest blue eyes and sweetest lips, she could think clearly.Starting something up with Decker was just wrong.
“So you’re not going to answer it?”
Sweetie pulled the covers off her head and saw Cloe sitting up in the bed next to hers.While all her other sisters had been thoroughly excited about her kissing Decker, Cloe hadn’t said a word.Probably because Sweetie already knew how she felt.
“I know,” she said.“Starting something with Decker is a bad idea.”Her phone stopped ringing and disappointment settled in the pit of her stomach like a heavy brick.She fell back on her pillow and sighed.“Why am I such a hot mess?”
“You aren’t a hot mess.”
Sweetie rolled to her side to face Cloe.“Oh, yes, I am.I’m almost thirty years old and I don’t have a clue where my life is heading.For twelve years, I’ve been in Nashville and I’m not any closer to my dream than when I started.I’m starting to wonder if it was really my dream or just an excuse to leave home.”
“What do you mean?”
Sweetie hugged a pillow to her chest.“I thought I was going to take Nashville by storm.But once I got there, I realized there were hundreds of other people who thought the same thing.People who are prettier and more talented than I am, and have no problems singing the songs they write on stage without having a major panic attack.And the thing is, I don’t even enjoy singing other people’s songs on stage.”
Cloe stared at her with disbelief.“But you used to love singing in school programs, at church, and here at home with the family.”
“That was different.That was with people I know.With strangers, I’m just a bundle of nerves every time I step on stage.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I kept thinking it would go away and all I needed was a little more experience.But no matter how many gigs I do, I still don’t get that high other singers talk about when they’re performing in front of a crowd.All I feel is scared and ...suffocated.Like I did when I lived here.See what I mean about being a hot mess?”
Cloe got out of bed and climbed in with Sweetie.Once she was settled under the covers, she took Sweetie’s face in her hands and got the stern look she always got when she meant business.“You are not a hot mess.You are smart and talented and beautiful.So what if you don’t like singing in front of people?You can still be a country music star.”
Sweetie laughed.“And just how is that going to work?Am I going to become the next masked singer and hide behind a giant dragon’s head?”
“You can write songs for other people to sing.Songwriters are music stars.They just don’t get all the attention and notoriety.”
“Thanks, Cloe, but I don’t think my songs are that good.”
“How do you know unless you let people hear them?Or at least, see them.Have you even shown them to anyone in the music business?”When Sweetie shook her head, Cloe continued.“Then you need to.You have close to a hundred notebooks on that shelf over there that say you’re a songwriter.Now all you need to do is believe it.”
Sweetie hugged her sister close.“I love you, Cloe.”
“I love you too.And just so you know, you’re not the only one who questions whether or not their life is on the right track.”
Sweetie drew back.“You don’t like being a speech therapist?”
“No, I’ve always loved working with children and helping them overcome their impediments.But I just thought my life would be further along by now.I thought I’d be married and have a couple kids and maybe a dog and some cats.Instead, I’m living with Brandon in a small apartment that doesn’t allow pets.”
“But I’m sure that will change when you and Brandon get married.I’m sure you’ll start a family and get a house of your own.”
