“It’s his thing.” He grabbed two tumblers and filled them with ice, then poured three fingers of vodka into her glass. “Go ahead and try it.”
Reluctantly she took the glass and let her lips hover over the rim. It tasted like Starbucks iced coffee with a hint of vanilla. “I like it,” she said, reading the label. “That makes sense.”
“What?”
“Van Gogh vodka—It’s from the Netherlands.”
“Never been.”
“You’re kidding.” She grabbed the bottle and they walked down the hall. “The Van Gogh Museum is one of my favorites.”
“Didn’t he chop his ear off?”
“Yeah, and he would’ve cut the other one off if he’d heard your music.”
Clayton clutched his chest. “Shot through the heart.”
“And you’re to blame.”
“Blame for what?”
She stopped dead in her tracks. “Do you seriously not know that Bon Jovi song?”
Clayton looked at her blankly and opened the door.
She continued, “If I’m going to learn about country music, then you’re going to learn about rock.”
“Fair enough.” He poured a splash of whiskey into his tumbler and the ice cracked in the glass. “Who’s your favorite singer?”
Jamie sat on the couch. “Freddie Mercury—Queen. The band from the seventies, not the stone age . . . although I love them, too.” She laughed. “Let me guess, you’ve never heard of Queens of the Stone Age.”
Clayton shook his head. “I know ‘We Are the Champions’ and ‘We Will Rock You.’”
“‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ is probably their best-known song, but I like ‘I Want to Break Free’ better.”
“Wayne’s World, right?” Clayton asked rhetorically. “Don’t know the other one.”
She rolled her eyes. “Hand me your guitar.”
Jamie sang the first verse of her favorite Queen song but paused before the next verse, the love part. She returned the guitar to Clayton. “It’s kind of my jam.”
“What are you trying to break free from?”
“Everything.” She took a sip of vodka. “Derrick, mostly. I think.”
“If you don’t mind me saying, that fella’s kind of a jerk.”
“He’s intense, for sure.”
“Intense is a euphemism for asshole.”
“He’s not exactly the president of your fan club either.” She motioned for Poppy to jump on the couch and Duke followed her like a shadow. “It’s kind of how we met.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you remember the finale of Star Factor? The year I won?” He nodded. “While you were singing on stage with that country kid, Derrick was watching the monitor with the other contestants in the green room. He had a movie coming out so the studio made him go on Star Factor to boost his profile.” She poured more vodka into her glass of half-melted ice. “He told us about the time you tried to fight him in a bar. Something about you throwing a sucker punch.”
“It wasn’t a sucker punch.” Clayton grabbed his left hand. “He was being downright rude to Tammy and I put him in his place.”
