Leah paused a moment. “So, you’re not out. This is good. Talk to Tucker. See what he says.”
“He’s already told her he won’t do it.”
“How do we get that no to turn into a yes?” Leah asked.
Kenzie blew a breath that made her bangs fly straight up. “I have no idea.”
“Maybe start by just asking him?” Logic wasn’t so stupid in this case.
“I can do that.” Kenzie stood, adjusted her dress. She could ask. See what he said. Maybe he would do it.
“Don’t be too direct though. Try to make it seem like it’s his idea. Guys love that.”
Kenzie rolled her eyes. “I’ll work on it.”
She tucked her cell back into her black Prada clutch with the silver clasp. It shouldn’t be too hard to convince a man set on retirement to do one last song.
One last song, for her.
* * *
“Retirement, huh?”Tucker’s buddy Brek asked.
Brek managed Dimefront, the current “it” band. Especially since Tucker’s band had broken up at his announcement of retirement.
Brek didn’t get wrapped up in the bullshit of the industry. That was why he and Tucker could be friends. No pretention between them, just beer and solid love of music.
“Yup. Done with all this.” Tucker gestured to the crowd with the brown bottle of craft beer in his hand, Kenzie’s seltzer in the other. He’d prefer a draft beer in a mug in the bar back at home. At events like this? Beggars couldn’t be choosers. “It’s been time for a while.”
His band had gone their separate ways. Tucker wasn’t making music anymore. Not that the industry believed it. Labels continually tossed offers his way. He wished he could take them—but taking them involved actually being able to create something.
Reality and his ranch looked better and better.
Jessica was right, though, the last thing he wanted was to have the final memory of his time in the limelight be that photo of Kenzie sprawled over his lap at a night club. So, he’d water down the image. Make a few more appearances. Give the rags something to talk about.
Then he’d go home.
Tucker scoured the room for Kenzie. She’d disappeared. “You should come see the ranch.”
“I’d like that.” Brek took a pull of his own beer.
“Tucker?” Kenzie sidled up next to him. Where the hell had she materialized from? “Sorry. Had to make a call.”
His gaze hooked on her and his lungs ached. He could still taste her on his lips. Her toes barely peeked out from under the long ball gown she wore. Hell, even her dress kissed the ground she walked on.
“Everything okay?” Tucker handed her drink to her.
Her red curls bobbed as she nodded. “Yup.”
“This is my buddy Brek. Brek, Kenzie.”
“Hi.” Kenzie took the drink, she nodded toward his friend and her expression warmed. “It’s nice to meet Tucker’s friends.”
Brek’s forehead crinkled as she shook his hand. “The other half of Mactuck. In the flesh,” he said.
Tucker groaned on the inside. Mostly. Some slipped out, he couldn’t help it.
“Headed home for Christmas?” Tucker asked, distracting Brek from any further discussion of their supercouple nickname.
