Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
I am a dead man.
“Since when do you apologize for anything?” She keeps her eyes closed.
“Since I grew the fuck up.”
She opens those eyes. I black out when she licks the rim of her glass and takes another sip. “I swear, this is the best margarita on earth.”
“You’re welcome!” Tallulah calls from somewhere behind us.
“Thank you.” Josie’s saying it to me.
At least I hope she’s saying it to me.
“Officiating weddings is thirsty work,” I reply. “Gotta keep the fluids going.”
That gets a smile. “I hope I do okay. I’ve been working on what I want to say, and I just . . . I can’t seem to get it right.”
I feel eyes on us. A lot of them. Before, I’d put some distance between me and Josie. I’d look away. Lean into the bar to try to make it look like I didn’t care.
Now, I lean into her. Not so much that I cross any lines or make her uncomfortable. Instead, I maintain eye contact and tilt my head forward so she knows I’m listening.
So she knows she has my full attention, because she’s opening up to me a little here. And that means something.
“You’re gonna get it right,” I reply, heart thundering.
“Writing songs seems easy compared to writing ceremonies.”
“You sayin’ you need some inspiration?”
Her eyes move to the top of my head. “The hat’s not it, if you’re wondering.”
I reach up to adjust said hat. “I thought you liked it.”
“Of course I like it. But on you—”
“You really like it.”
I can tell she’s fighting her smile, but it’s winning. “You’ve gotten cockier.”
“And more handsome, I hope?”
“Fishing for compliments isn’t a good look on you.”
“Is begging for them any better?” I sip my beer. “Because I’ll beg if it means getting one from you. Those always meant the most.”
She’s really smiling now. Goddamn, she’s pretty. I’ve missed her.
Missed this, the two of us bellying up to a bar. Missed the feeling of her body being close to mine. The bone-deep comfort of knowing she’s coming home with me, where we’ll get naked and then play music in bed together afterward, laughing at my goofy interpretation of her lyrics.
Please, God, let her give me another chance.
“I am good at compliments,” she says.
“You gonna be good enough out there to put the rest of us mere mortals to shame?” I nod at the dance floor. Frisky Whisky is finishing setup on the nearby stage. “I see those moves you make on tour. The tambourine is . . .” I shake my head. “A real nice touch.”
Josie shrugs. “I know I’ll never live up to Stevie Nicks—”
“But you’re gonna die tryin’.”
The way her gaze glimmers makes my jeans feel two sizes too tight. “Yes.”
She thinking about the times she’d play tambourine for me? The times she was wearing my shirt. It’d ride up as she shimmied her hips, revealing the ass I glimpsed yesterday at the river.
A beat of silence stretches between us.
This is it. My chance to come clean.
Sucking in a breath, I look down at her. “I’m gonna say something, and I hope you’ll stick around to listen. I understand if you don’t, though.”
She pauses, margarita at her lips. “Okay . . .”
“I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. About everything.” My voice is threadbare. I clear my throat. “I wanted to follow you to Nashville. So damn bad, Josie, you got no idea. Truth is, I was too much of a chickenshit to show everyone I loved you so much that I’d put you first. I didn’t—I couldn’t find the courage to show I cared that much.”
Her expression suddenly morphs, hardening to a mask of fury and hurt. “So you cared more about what other people thought than you did about me.”
“I did. I own that. Back then . . . I was worried people would think I was ridiculous for moving to Nashville with you, yes. People around here—they didn’t get the music thing.”
“I loved music. Always have. Does that make me ridiculous?”
Leave it to me to put my damn foot in my mouth. “No, no. I admired you. Always have, Josie—”
“You know what?” She scoffs, shaking her head. “You’re the one being ridiculous, ruining this perfectly lovely evening. Why are you saying any of this, Wes? Nothing’s changed.”
“I have.” The words come out more forcefully than I intend. “I’ve changed. I’ve worked really hard to fix what was broken inside me. And I still think about you all the damn time, Josie. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret letting you go.”
Her eyes toggle between mine, sharp and wet. “But you did let me go. And that’s the beginning and the end of this conversation.”
Then she drops her half-finished drink on the bar and dashes out the door.
Chapter 4: Tell Me Lies
Josie
Stepping out into the humid night air, I suck in a breath and marvel at how damn hot it still is. The sun set an hour ago, but it’s still ninety-some-odd degrees out here.