Her voice is perfect. It’s not Adele—but her style is what sets her apart.
“Damn,” I mouth when she’s done, almost forgetting to applaud. “Did you just write that?”
She nods. “The other day.”
“It’s incredible. It feels like you’re singing right to my soul. As if the song is about you and me,” I add.
Her face reddens, and she pushes her hair behind her ear. She locks eyes with me.
“Probably because it is.”
My skin tingles at the realization that this song could have anything to do with me.
She stands and sets her guitar on the seat.
“Why the shock?” she prods, poking me in the side.
I smirk. “No shock.”
“Oh really? I thought I could read that in your face.”
I run my hand down the small of her back.
“I’ve got an idea. How about I put a special expression on your face that I’m sure of?” I say.
She brings her hand down my bare stomach. “What expression do you mean?” she asks playfully.
Cupping her jaw, I guide her toward the balcony railing and kiss her.
“Already need a refresher course after last night?” I wiggle my eyebrows, sliding my hand over her hips.
“Yeah,” she swallows. “I totally forgot. Guess you’re going to have to remind me of the face I make . . .”
Her voice trails off as I slip a hand inside her short shorts, a finger pressing against her clit.
“Oh, Zach,” she whispers. “Keep doing that.”
I make us breakfast, and then Harmony stays back to practice and play on her new guitar while Andrew and I head out to downtown Nashville.
“You sure you don’t want me to get you a job at Baby Got BBQ?” Andrew asks me.
The hot summer sun beats down on us as we walk the pedestrian bridge over the river.
“No, thanks. If I’m starting my own place, I’ll need to put all my energy into that.”
He lifts a half grin as we get to the top of the bridge. A few joggers go past, and one bluegrass duo plays within earshot.
Leaning off the bridge, we look out over the city and share a breath of fresh air.
It’s odd seeing Andrew anywhere but our cell—especially seeing him last night in a suit coat.
As he looks out over the water, though, I can’t help but notice his smile seems forced.
“So how have you been? Sorry for not making it here earlier. Was working my ass off for a while in Blackwell.”
“I bet. How much you got saved up?”
“A lot. Don’t you worry about it. We’ll pay rent while we’re here.”
He chuckles, but it still seems forced.
“Aw, don’t worry about that now. How in the hell did a guy like you meet a girl like that anyway?”
I shrug, a grin easing onto my face. “Just some bar. Lucky, I suppose. How about you, man? You been all right?”
He clears his throat. “Yeah, I’ve been good. Great.”
I squint at him. “Really? You don’t look it.”
“Job’s going fine. I can put on the face and make it through every day. I’m lucky they hired a person with my kind of background.”
I put my hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “They’re the lucky ones, you smart motherfucker.”
His nostrils flare, and he tries to laugh, but an awkward noise comes out.
“I wish you were right,” he says.
Rubbing my hands together, I turn to him.
“Look, Andrew, I have a favor to ask.”
“Oh boy, here goes.”
“I need some connections to get Harmony up and performing.”
He cocks his head. “What are you, like her agent?”
“I wish. I don’t have those qualifications. Just get me a few leads. That’s all I ask. I know I could google the places and cold-call them, but you’ve been here for a while. You know the layout.”
“I’ll help you out.”
“I’ll make it worth your while.” I wink.
He rolls his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? We’re not in prison. You can’t bribe me with cigarettes anymore.”
“I’ll cook you up some of my world-famous BBQ ribs.”
He pats his stomach. “You got yourself a deal.”
We walk back to town and Andrew heads to his shift. Stopping in a bar, I make a list of all the best spots in Nashville with open mics for live music, picking the smaller venues for the first few weeks. At the very least, it will be a way for her to get used to performing in Nashville while we settle in.
As I’m walking back to the apartment, a big sign in front of Johnny’s Music Lounge catches my eye.
It’s for a songwriting contest in three months. I take one of the flyers, fold it, and put it in my pocket.
When I get back, Harmony is sitting on the couch in the main room, still immersed in playing.
She puts the guitar down. “Hey there. Where’ve you been?”
“Oh, just making a list of the open mics in the Nashville area. Here.” I hand her the notes I made and her eyes light up. “Wow, I haven’t even heard of some of these places from when I was playing the circuit way back when.”
I shrug. “That’s not surprising, Vanderbilt. These places can go in and out of business pretty fast. But if you play like I know you can, I can guarantee you a standing O.”
She saunters closer to me, looking cute as hell in her blue yoga pants with pineapples on them and a tight white tank top.
She frowns. “Don’t get my hopes up. I mean, I know I’m good. But a standing ovation? I’ve never gotten one of those. It takes a lot for people to make it big these days.”
Wrapping my arms around her hips, I kiss her and press her into the wall.
“I wasn’t talking about a standing ovation from the people, Vanderbilt,” I say. “I was talking about a different kind of standing O.”
She swallows. “Oh. Ohhhhhh. You mean that kind of standing O.”
Chapter 21
Harmony
The first few weeks back in Nashville, it’s like I’m reborn.
It’s amazing what some time spent in a new city can do for your mental state. Every day, Zach goes out and looks at properties for the restaurant he’s planning on opening. He has a master plan, which I’m actually a little surprised about, considering he didn’t let me in on those details before our shotgun trip to Nashville.
Truthfully, I’m relieved that he’s got something going on. One of my last-minute worries was that he was going to be bumming around nonstop while I try to practice, but he does nothing of the sort. Every morning, he kisses me goodbye and leaves for a few hours before coming back to cook a late lunch. I tried to cook once, but he insisted he needed to practice making dishes to stay on his game.
My appetite doesn’t mind.
We also join a gym and start going in the late afternoons before hitting the circuit of open mics in the evening. We don’t see much of Andrew, who works seventy- to eighty-hour weeks at the restaurant.
Zach is so down to Earth and relaxed about everything, it’s almost suspicious. I’m not used to having such tremendous support in my life. Though I’ve only known Zach a few weeks, I feel like our connection is stronger than with anyone I’ve ever known.