The Hottest Ticket in Town. Kimberly Meter Van
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chuckle, if only to get past the awful pinch in his chest, and said, “Aw, Ri, I never knew you were such a softie at your core.”
Rian scowled at Kane’s thinly veiled sarcasm and flipped him off. “I hope your plane goes down,” he shot over his shoulder as he headed out of the office, leaving Kane to deal with the burden of knowing that Laci was lying in some Memphis hospital bed.
Kane shook his head, hating that time hadn’t healed that particular wound or erased the bone-deep need to feel Laci shuddering in his arms, or hear her breathy sighs in his ear as he took total control of her body. Time was supposed to dull that edge, right? Yeah, so someone ought to let his brain in on that little fact. Maybe if his fantasies didn’t feature Laci, he’d get over her. Maybe. But it didn’t matter who he was with or even if he was alone, Laci was there.
Irritated at himself, Kane finished his to-do list, then closed up the office to pack for a trip he didn’t want to make. Woodsville, Kentucky—home of his miserable childhood and the keeper of his most private dreams. If it hadn’t been for summers at the Bradford ranch...he didn’t know where he and Rian might’ve ended up. Probably nowhere good.
Of all the things the Bradford ranch reminded him of—fresh corn bread and hot beans simmering in a cast-iron pot, corn on the cob and steaks big enough to satisfy the appetites of two growing young men—there was only one thing that ever jumped to mind when he thought of those blistering summer days and time hadn’t dulled those memories.
Sweet as seasonal rain and with curves for days, there were still times she invaded his dreams, leaving him rock hard, aching and reaching for a woman who was never meant to be his.
Kane physically shook himself from his reverie, appalled at his own mopey melancholy. When did he become such a sap? Apparently, Woodsville brought out the worst in him.
Well, one thing was for certain, no matter where Laci was...leaving her behind had been the best thing he could’ve ever done for her—and for himself.
So what if the scar remained tender to the touch. Everyone had scars. Some people just hid them better than others.
LACI OPENED BLEARY eyes to blink at her unfamiliar surroundings. Where was she? Disoriented, she struggled to sit up and discovered she was lying in a hospital bed and tethered to an IV. What the... And just as panic began to cloud her thinking, her memory returned with a flash and she realized she must’ve collapsed onstage.
Lifting her arm to stare at the plastic tubing delivering who knows what into her vein, she closed her eyes again, still too tired to truly process the ramifications of what’d happened. The lights, the sold-out arena, the total collapse. She should feel guilty but she didn’t. Did that make her a bad person? Her thoughts drifted on the tide of her bone-deep exhaustion and she would’ve sunk into blessed sleep if Trent’s voice hadn’t jarred her back into awareness.
“There she is.” Trent’s drawl made her jump and reluctantly open her eyes to focus on her manager as he came into the room with a big, relieved grin. “Thought you were gonna sleep the day away, honey. How you feelin’? That’s one helluva way to grab a little R&R, you know. You scared me, girl.”
A faint smile found her lips to humor Trent, but honestly, Trent was the last person she wanted to see right now. Of course, that uncharitable thought made her cringe with guilt. Trent was the reason she was on top, making millions and selling out shows. Her daddy had always warned her about biting the hand that was handing out the goods, but right about now she was feeling kind of snappy and she didn’t trust her mouth not to say something bad. Trent didn’t seem to notice, though.
“Girl, my heart just about fell out of my chest when you collapsed onstage,” Trent said, seeming genuinely concerned. “I wish I’d known just how puny you’d been feelin’. Girl, we gotta work on our communication skills,” he said, somehow turning it back on her. Hadn’t she told Trent a million times that she was exhausted? Maybe she hadn’t been entirely clear, she realized, feeling as if she’d not only let down her fans but the man who was making all her dreams possible.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured through numb lips. She rubbed at her mouth absently, wondering why the words tasted hollow. She was sorry, she truly was, for making a mess of things, but a part of her couldn’t muster the energy to give the emotion much more than lip service and she knew that was just ugly of her. Tears burned beneath her lids as she rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t realize just how tired I was, I guess.”
“Well, all’s well that ends well, I suppose,” Trent said, pushing a tendril of hair from her eyes with a tender touch. “Now what’s important is getting you back on your cute li’l feet, right?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “The docs are pushing all sorts of fluids into you, so you might be a little puffy for tomorrow’s show. I’ll have Simone give you a little extra room in your costumes, okay, sugar? No worries there.”
“Tomorrow?” Distress colored her voice. “What do you mean?”
“Darlin’, the show must go on, as they say. Docs have assured me that you’re right as rain, all you needed was a good night’s rest and so I went ahead and rebooked your canceled show. Get this,” he said, excited. “We’re even more booked than before. Seems collapsing is good for ticket sales. Who would’ve thought? Anyway, you just focus on getting some good shut-eye and then we’ll get you back on that stage where you belong.” Back onstage? Laci wanted to scream, but she nodded instead. Trent’s stare narrowed at her lackluster response. “Is there a problem?”
I’m not ready to go back onstage. I need a break. Can’t you see that? The words bubbled on her tongue and when she opened her mouth, she really thought she was going to push them out, but instead, something lame popped out. “I’m just wore out. I’ll be fine by tomorrow night,” she promised, and in that moment, she hated herself for being a weak caricature of who she used to be. Where was her spirit? Her fire? Laci McCall didn’t used to be such a pushover. Somewhere along the way she’d sacrificed that innate quality for fame and fortune and it felt just as sickening as it sounded in her head. And yet...she continued to nod and assure her manager that all was going to be all right. Pathetic.
Trent, mollified, chucked her chin gently the way he would a kid’s and smiled. “That’s my girl. Rest up, angel, we’re back on track tomorrow.”
Laci held her weak smile until he left the room, but as soon as the door closed behind him, she dropped the smile like a lead weight. She couldn’t take the stage. She just couldn’t. Not yet. She needed...hell, she didn’t know what she needed anymore. All she did know was that if she didn’t get away from Trent and all the trappings of fame, she was going to die.
A tear oozed from the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek.
“You okay?”
The memory of a boy, handsome as sin, with hair too long and a reluctant smile too sweet, invaded her thoughts.
Times were hard, she knew, but she hadn’t expected her daddy to drop her off and leave for the summer as he had. During the summer, her daddy logged in the high country to squirrel away cash for the harsh Kentucky winter. This time, he’d dropped her off with Cora and Warren Bradford, an older couple he’d known for a long time and apparently trusted with his only child. But damn it, her daddy needed her and it didn’t feel none too good to be left behind with strangers, even if they were nice folk.
The boy, a year older than her at sixteen, climbed the ladder to join her in the hayloft. His blue eyes were something else, almost too pretty for a boy, and when he flipped his dark hair out of his eyes as he dropped beside her, her breath caught. His name was Kane Dalton—he and his brother, Rian, were ranch hands for the Bradfords—and he set her heart to jammin’ like a bluegrass picker with a jug of moonshine.
He wiped at the tear on her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’,” she lied with a forced smile. “Just missing