Page 17 of Passion and Promises
“No, I’m going to find something a little stronger than lemonade,” I reply.
“Yeah, they would make a killing if they started spiking that stuff.”
I snort at Allie’s comment, but she’s not wrong. We walk together over to where all of the food vendors are set up, and she heads toward the iconic yellow stand that sells the lemonade she’s after. Taking a quick look up and down the row of stalls, I see the logo for one of my favourite breweries. Making my way over to the tent, I walk over to the table and greet the man standing behind it with a smile.
“One Gobsmack Citrus IPA please,” I ask, taking the plastic cup filled with beer when it’s handed to me. I cast a glance around for Allie and notice she’s still in line for her lemonade, so I turn back to the stage. Just then, the cover band switches gears and starts to play a song that brings up all kinds of memories. Memories of stolen kisses at a packed bar, strong hands gripping my ass tightly, and a cocky smile that I can’t escape seeing everywhere. After all, it does belong to the man Rolling Stone magazine recently declared the hottest man on the country music scene.
Nash Parker.
The best thing to come out of Canada since Ryan Reynolds.
I had a backstage pass to his show at the Calgary Stampede two years ago, thanks to some graphic design work I had done for one of the sponsors of the event. Before that night, Nash was nothing more than a hot celebrity to me. I wouldn’t have bothered going backstage except my co-worker at the time begged me to get his autograph for her. Then he looked at me, and I swear the second our eyes met, electricity crackled between us. I remember the surreal feeling when he pulled me in close and whispered that one word to me,stay.Curiosity and no small amount of lustful attraction made me hang around until the meet and greet was over. Then Nash Parker surprised the hell out of me by asking if I wanted to go dancing. He took me to one of the saloons set up at the fair, his security guards following along discretely, and he spun me around the dance floor, two-stepping for hours. When the bar closed, it was clear neither of us wanted the night to end, which is how I ended up in his bed, in his hotel room, having the hottest sex of my life.
We must have fallen asleep at some point, because in the middle of the night, when I woke up sprawled on top of him, I panicked. I was fresh off a bad breakup and only looking to have some fun that weekend. Just not the kind of fun that ends with me getting caught sleeping with a celebrity. I snuck out at some ungodly hour of the early morning, doing a walk of shame from his hotel room that no one saw but the clerk at the front desk. I went home and never told a soul about any of it.
But I haven’t since experienced the same kind of connection we had that night. It was more intense than anything I have ever felt before. Which is why I’ve spent two years secretly pining over him, watching him in the media and remembering the feel of his hands on me and the sound of his voice whispering dirty things in my ear.
Of course, over the years he managed to get even hotter, letting his hair get a little bit longer and growing the perfect amount of scruff. The man can wear a pair of Wranglers and a tight T-shirt better than anyone I have ever seen. And when he opens his mouth to sing, pure sex pours out. It’s a good thing I haven’t had the opportunity to see him perform in person again; who knows what my reaction would be.
Unfortunately, the guy on stage might be singing a Nash Parker song, but he is definitely not on the same level in terms of talent. I can’t hold back a wince when he tries to hit one of the lower notes and fails miserably.
“Think I should go up there and put him out of his misery?”
The voice that haunts my dreams rumbles in my ear, making shivers dance up and down my spine. I whirl around, gasping in surprise.
“Nash? What are you…why…I mean…you’re here.”
He nods, and a slow, easy smile stretches over the face that I have memorized.
“Hey, Emma.”
Everything around us fades into a blur as I drink in the sight of him, standing in front of me wearing a faded ball cap and aviator sunglasses. A poor attempt at a disguise in my opinion, but maybe it’s working, because no one else around us seems aware of the fact that the sexiest country singer of the year is standing right here.
“Good grief, that line was huge,” Allie moans. I jump, not realizing she had walked up to us. “Oh my God, you’re Nash Parker!” I wince as her shriek pierces my ear.
The smile on Nash’s face morphs into something else, something that seems less authentic and more practiced. He sticks out his hand to shake Allie’s. “Nice to meet you.”
It’s totally irrational, but I want my best friend to get lost so I can see if his smile changes when it’s just the two of us.
“Allie, don’t you want to go and watch the concert?” All she does is nod, without even looking my way. She’s fixated on Nash, not that I blame her. He’s worth fixating on.
“Allie.” I say her name louder, and finally her eyes come to meet mine. “Why don’t you go and get our seats, I’ll be there in a minute, okay?”
Thankfully, our best friend intuition kicks in and I see her eyes widen in understanding. Of course, then they immediately narrow and I know I’m going to have a lot to answer for.
“Yeah. Sure. Our seats.” Allie looks longingly at Nash again but thankfully his eyes are fixed firmly on me. Did I say thankfully? I meant…for some insane reason, I give Allie a gentle shove, and she finally walks away, leaving Nash and I alone again.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” He puts his hands in his pockets and glances down. “Hell, I didn’t expect toeversee you again.” It’s crazy, but I think I detect a thread of hurt in his voice.
“That makes two of us,” I blurt out.
His eyes darken into pools of molten chocolate. I guess that answers the question of whether he remembers our night together or not. Before I can answer, some guy wearing dress pants and a collared shirt, making him look so ridiculously out of place at the small-town festival, walks up to us.
“Nash, buddy, we gotta move. You’re on in fifteen.”
Nash frowns at the man before looking back to me. “Are you going to be around after the concert?”
“Yes…” Understanding dawns on me in that second as I see stagehands taking equipment on and off the stage. “Wait. Areyouperforming?”
