“After your performance tonight, you’re presenting the New Artist of the Year Award. So stay backstage after you change, okay?”

I look over at my assistant from my perch in front of the vanity. Billie and his team are whirling around me to put the finishing touches on my over-the-shoulder hairdo and layers of makeup they’ve caked on my face. Nothing like an awards show to completely clog your pores.

“Got it. And who am I presenting with?”

Zoe consults her notes. “Rhett Acton.”

“Rhett?” I smile in surprise. “It’ll be great to see him again.”

“He’s up for Song of the Year, so it’d be good for his nerves to see a familiar face.”

A sharp tsk tsk from Billie sends me facing forward again. As he puts one last slick of mascara on my overburdened fake lashes, the butterflies running amok in my stomach settle.

Going to the Country Music Awards every year is like seeing all your best friends at once. I love every second of it and can’t wait to catch up with the talented artists who are like family to me. Artists who welcomed me with open arms years ago and taught me the ropes when I was overwhelmed by the biz. Artists who are role models and are about to see me perform my new single “Hart and Hill” that I’m releasing tomorrow.

Three guesses who that’s written for.

The butterflies take flight again when Zoe speaks up. “I was able to squeeze Rachel into your Monday schedule. That okay?”

I look up. “Really? That’s great! Maybe we’ll finalize the legal mumbo jumbo.”

Zoe raises an eyebrow. “Mumbo jumbo?”

“That’s why I hire lawyers,” I say sarcastically. “Anyway, it’d be great to get this label off the ground by the new year.”

Zoe shakes her head in awed disbelief. “When you told me you wanted to start an indie record label in Nashville, I thought you were batshit crazy.”

I gag as Billie assaults my hair with another volley of hairspray. “Uh, thanks?”

“But you’re halfway there, and faster than I thought possible,” Zoe continues.

“Only because I have amazing help.”

I dropped the word “interim” from Zoe’s title the second I walked out of my meeting with Sunny Records. Though by the way she bosses me around, you would think I worked for her. She was hard at work finding me a new personal assistant, though I have to admit, the bar was rather high to meet.

Zoe snorts. “You can say that again. I better be getting one sweet holiday bonus this year.”

I give her a serious look. “Zoe, you can have all the bonuses you want as long as you promise me one thing: never leave me. Or Dolly,” I add after careful consideration. Dolly loved Zoe like aunt, and Aunt Zoe was coming around to her slobbery kisses. Slowly.

Zoe throws back her head and laughs, her newly minted orange hair fanning out across her bare shoulders. “Like either of you would survive without me.”

“You can say that again…” Zoe is one hundred percent correct: I’d be a scattered mess without her managing my every move.

In the weeks after the tour, everything clicked into place. At warp speed. I spearheaded a team to begin launching my new record label with the hopes of riding the momentum of my tour. I knew getting the label off the ground would be difficult, and it was, infinitely so. But the real shock has been the incredible support from everyone I know. And didn’t know.

Industry titans reached out, wanting to help or support or give advice, and artists soon followed, clamoring to throw their name behind Hartbreak Records while it was still in the brainstorming stage. It shocked and humbled me, and it still does every time I think about it.

Billie drops his brush and gives a theatrical wave of his manicured hand. “I’m done! You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and if you don’t steal the limelight away from Karrie tonight, then I’ll quit.”

I laugh and begin the “fun” task of getting to my feet. The dress Kendra picked was beautiful but cumbersome. Very, very cumbersome.

“We should get going,” I say, reaching for my Chanel clutch resting on the vanity. “The red carpet won’t wait for little ol’ me.”

Zoe nods and starts helping Billie pack up his horde of beauty supplies. “Let me go grab the ‘Oh Shit’ bag and I’ll be right back.”

The door’s barely shut behind my crew before it opens again. The man standing on the threshold completely fills the doorway with his broad shoulders and tall frame. “…that is great news.”

With his focus on the cell phone pressed to his ear, I have a precious moment to drink Bryce in. Black tux, white bow tie, tanned skin, styled hair. Bryce could be cast in a James Bond flick.

My eyes follow the glide of his tailored tux over his body as he turns and shuts the door, knowing full well that it (barely) hides his incredible muscles that I’ve spent hours memorizing.

As my head of security, Bryce took my personal protection seriously. Sometimes, a little too seriously, like when he won't let me walk into a club without canvassing it out first. But he had always set the bar high in whatever he set his mind to do, so when he told me he wanted to start training other personal security officers on the side, I gave him my full support. All my colleagues are lining up for the officers graduating his fledging program next month, and I don't blame them.

His hand pauses on the doorknob as he listens to the call. Whoever’s talking has his full attention.

“…of course she’ll say yes, so pass along my congratulations to your fiancée, and ring me up when it’s official.”

He taps the screen and slides the phone into his breast pocket.

“You’re not going to believe it. Koa bought an engagement—” Bryce cuts off as his eyes fall on me and my gown. “Oh my God.”

A blush creeps up my cheeks as his eyes rake over my ball gown. “Is it too much?”

Kendra had picked out a shimmery deep marigold dress with yards of satin fabric and a sweeping neckline. It was gorgeous and revealing. I had thought a little too revealing when I slipped it on, but based on the heat licking at my boyfriend’s hungry eyes, I’d say it’s made a lingering impression.

In three long steps, Bryce covers the space between us. The growl that leaves his throat as he sweeps me into his steely arms sends a wave of desire that pools deep in my aching belly. We had barely left each other’s side in the past four weeks, and yet his touch affected me like this every time. A hunger, a thirst I cannot quench.

“You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” His lips kiss a trail from my ear to my chin and then back again. “Every time I see you, I wonder how I went so long without you. Without seeing your gorgeous face, kissing those full lips, running my hands over your curves.”

A gasp leaves me as Bryce’s hands begin to glide over said curves.

“Wait, we need to leave,” I plead. But my husky voice betrays me. I want him as much as he wants me.

“You can’t expect me not to taste something so perfect, so deliciously perfect,” he murmurs against my cheek. “I’m only a man, Hartman. I can only take so much of you before I break.”

The ache in my belly deepens as his dark eyes meet mine. The heat I find there tells me there’s no fighting him…and the heat growing between my thighs tells me I don’t want to.

“Then taste,” I whisper before drawing my lip between my teeth, just like he likes. It has the intended effect.

Bryce has me pinned against the wall, one hand planted to the side of my head while the other fumbles with the zipper of my gown, when a knock sounds at the door. We have just enough time to step away from each other before Zoe waltzes into the room. She takes one look at our flushed faces and panting breaths and gives the world’s biggest eye roll.

“Okay, lovebirds, take a cold shower. We’ve got a show to get to.” She cocks an eyebrow at Bryce. “And the Entertainer of the Year nominee needs to be clothed.”

Bryce holds up his hands while giving Zoe one of his winning grins. “You got it, Ms. Gomez, but it’s not my fault you left me alone with the most stunning woman in the world.”

A deep wave of pleasure whips through me. Coming from another man, I would scoff, but coming from Bryce Hill, I melt.

The softening scowl of my manager tells me she’s not immune to Bryce’s charm either. In fact, the longer I’m with this Clark Kent, the more I realize no woman is.

“Car’s out front,” Zoe says, reaching for the door with a sentimental sniff. “Let’s get you two cuties on that red carpet.”

Bryce throws his shoulders back and lifts his chin as he offers me his arm. Even in four-inch platform Marc Jacobs, he’s taller than me. An intense feeling of happiness and contentment settle over me when my hand glides over his toned forearm.

So this is what complete and utter joy feels like.

Ten minutes later, we’re hurtling toward downtown Nashville in the back of a sleek black limo when I notice Bryce fidgeting next to me. I reach across the leather seat and still his drumming fingers with my hand.

“You okay?”

His head snaps to me as I break his train of thought. He gives me a tight smile and nods.

“Don’t be nervous,” I say with an accompanying squeeze. “Walking the carpet in a sea of cameras and music stars is going to be easy compared to saving damsels in distress and infiltrating enemy lines.”

Bryce’s brow furrows slightly. “That’s not why I’m nervous.”

“Oh. Is something wrong?”

“Uh, no. Not exactly.”

“You can tell me anything,” I say quietly. “I’m here for you.”

“I know.” The tension lining his eyes smooths out as his gaze roams over my face, but it comes back in full force a second later. I’m about to press him again when he suddenly reaches over and palms my cheek softly with his hand.

“I love you so much, Autumn. So much more than I ever thought possible.”

I close my eyes and lean into his hand, enjoying its warmth against my cheek. “Me too, Bry.”

“Do you remember the day you fell out of Mr. Richardson’s peach tree?”

My eyes fly open at the horrible memory. “And broke my arm? Yes. I’ll never forget that…” A slow smile draws back my bright red lips as another, sweeter memory floats out of the painful one. “Or how you picked me up and carried me a mile to get help.”

His gaze grows fierce. “That’s the day I knew I loved you. Really knew. And that someday, I was going to make you mine.”

My hand moves to my chest as Bryce draws back his hand to reach into the breast pocket of his tux. I gasp as he pulls out a square black leather box. My vision blurs as tears spring into my eyes—but not enough to miss the sparkling solitaire square-cut diamond ring nestled between the black leather as he pries back the lid.

“Autumn,” Bryce says, gazing into my face with so much love that my breath leaves me, “I’ve loved you for longer than I can remember. From the time you made me close my eyes while you sang me your first song to when I held you in my arms and whispered ‘I love you’ into your ear. I can’t think of any other woman I’d rather share my life and name with, or who I’d rather create a future with.”

The tears are streaming down my face at this point. Every beautiful word from Bryce’s lips sends another droplet of joy gliding down my cheek. Billie’s going to kill me for ruining his hard work, but then again, he’s not the one with the man of his dreams offering him his heart, body, and soul.

“How have I deserved you?” I ask in a mere whisper. Bryce has stolen my voice along with my heart.

Bryce’s eyes grow misty as he slowly shakes his head. “I ask myself that question every day when I wake up and see your beautiful face inches from mine… When you’re singing your heart out on stage… When you’re falling asleep in my arms.”

He reaches out and tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Hartman, will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

I stare at him. Is he really asking me the words I’ve wanted to hear for so many years? “Are you sure you want me?”

He draws my hand to his lips and lightly kisses my fingertips. “I’ve looked for someone else my whole life, and I always come back to you.”

My happy answer bursts from my lips. “Then yes!”

We reach for each other in unison, desperately and suddenly needing to hold the other. Tears fall from my shining eyes as Bryce covers my mouth with his. Our kiss is salty and passionate and hard as we silently communicate our love through touch.

I could stay there forever, cradled in my love’s arms, but all too soon the limo draws to a stop behind a long line of cars nearing a packed red carpet.

“I don’t want to go,” I murmur against his lips. “I want to stay here with you.”

Bryce’s eyes shine as he brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. “I’ll be right by your side the whole night, sharing this moment.” He presses his lips to the corners of my mouth. “Our moment.”

“But—”

His mouth captures mine in a long, heated kiss that melts every inch of me. As his tongue tangles with mine and his hand drifts into my hair, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to keep my wits around this man.

Bryce leans back slightly, his face close to mine, and gives me the most loving look a man could ever give a woman.

On second thought, maybe wits are overrated.

Commotion outside draws my eyes over Bryce’s right shoulder. An usher is approaching the limo, hand poised to open the door when our car inches to a stop at the base of the red carpet. Bryce’s touch draws my eyes back to him. My heart swells so big I think it may actually leap out of my chest and into the arms of the man who stole it. The man who captured my heart when I was just a little girl with a crush and dream.

And now, as a cascade of flashes pierce the dark interior of our limo, I know they’ve both come true. I’ve dreamed of a future with Bryce, but I now know the reality is infinitely sweeter.

The feel of Bryce’s hand joining his fist at the base of my head brings me back. A wave of mingled love and joy pours through me as I raise my face to his. He sits across from me, cameras at his back, looking as happy and as madly in love as I’ve ever seen him.

“Smile for the cameras, Hartman,” he says.

I reach up and grasp his hands in mine. My ring sparkles and dances with every bright flash from the excited throng waiting for us. I glance down at our joined hands as I draw them between us, his so strong and capable in mine. I love how right they look together: a perfect pair and unlikely pair, like us.

I gaze into my fiancé’s eyes, seeing our past and future swirling together in them, and confess the perfect truth. “I already am, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”