She nodded slowly, her eyes narrowed, mistrusting.
“And nowhere in those terms does it specificallysay that myfacehas to be shown in any of those photos?”
This time she shook her head. “I signed it virtually this morning and sent it off to my agent for her signature as well. Your name is only mentioned as the song collaborator.”
Ash raised his brows. “Then we don’t identify me at all in the photos. You can tease the collaboration and leave the reveal for the concert. This is your gig. It should be aboutyou.”
She was fidgeting with the hem of her shirt again, still nervous. Still not ready to trust him. Not that he could blame her.
“But Sloane only wants to do this to clean up your image after…you know…”
He huffed out a laugh. “After I got publicly dumped, replaced, and arrested in the same night?” He set his glass in the sink and gripped the edge of the countertop, the veins in his wrists and forearms growing taut. “Maybe I need to sit in my mess for a bit until I can clean it up myself. Anyway, I’m pretty sure sharing the stage withtheWillow Morgan is all the cleaning up my image will need.” He relaxed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s the best thing for the town too. Don’t you think? The fewer people who know I’m here, the better.”
Willow stared at him long and hard. He could see the wheels turning but couldn’t read her expression.
“So you want to do what’s best for me and the town?”
Ash nodded. “Yeah. I guess I do.”
She backed away, slowly at first, but then scrambled back onto the couch, tossing her guitar strap over her shoulder as she started to strum again. Then she sang, her voice breathy and delicate yet at the same time a powerhouse of emotion that knocked Ash harder than any blow Boone was able to land.
Didn’t feel like the right time to unpack
With the whole damned world cracking a whip at my back,
So I hopped on a horse and rode until dark,
Knowing with each step I’d never recapture the spark.
Everyone wants me to fix what I broke,
But it took me this long to get in on the joke.
Maybe I’ll sit in my life, give it time to soak in
’Stead of letting ’em clean every mess I get in.
Willow shrugged when she was done. “Or something like that, I guess?”
“You don’t need me for this,” he told her. “You’re too good on your own.” It was the truth. He hadn’t written or sung a note with that much of himself in the sound of it for years.
But she shocked him by shaking her head. “Look… I don’t believe in muses or stuff like that…”
“And I am definitely no muse,” he added.
She laughed. “Maybe not. But… I don’t know. You being around is unlocking something up here.” She tapped her temple. “Right when I was convinced I’d lost the key.”
His pulse quickened as more of the song started to play in his head, parts they hadn’t written yet. “Okay…” he told her. “Okay…” He made his way out of the kitchen to where she was. “I have a slight tweak for the melody if you want to hear it.”
She started to lift the strap from over her shoulder but abruptly stopped. “You’re a lefty,” she said. “I forgot.”
Except she didn’t forget. Willow remembered he was a southpaw and wanted him to stay. Shewantedto do this together.
“I’ll get my guitar,” he told her.
She smiled. Athim. And even if this truce would only be short lived, he would gather every scrap she tossed his way, savoring each one.
Chapter 6
