His green eyes bored into my very soul as his strong hands slid down my body. Satin slid over my heaving bosom, catching on my hard nipples. His hand slid lower and lower, slipping beneath the hem of my nightgown, over the thin fabric between my thighs. All mine. I touched his face, soft as silk. His eyes were on fire, his fingers split me, sinking into the moisture pooling there.

Leather over my mouth, smothering my moans as he hooked his fingers against my most secret, sensitive place, forcing the pressure to build between my hips. His thumb rolled over the hard, hot nub until my legs quivered and shook, until my moans turned to screams in his hand. I convulsed, crying out in ecstasy…

Tyler dissolved as morning rushed into my eyes. I was twisted in my bedcovers, my head buried in a pillow, my hand buried in my panties. Soaked with sweat and still trembling from the intense dream, I tumbled out of bed and headed for the shower.

“Taking him to the event was a bad idea,” I told myself as I turned the shower on. “Promoting him from bodyguard to arm candy. He does make good arm candy, though.”

Besides, it wasn’t like I hadn’t already been attracted to Tyler before the event last night. Between his lazy good looks and those blood-pumping self-defense lessons, I’d spent most of my waking—and sleeping—hours entertaining elaborate fantasies about him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to avoid turning them into a reality.

“The last thing you need is another messy, public breakup,” I told myself firmly. “He’s not the one. He’s a bodyguard, a good old country boy. He’s not going to want to jet set around the country with you forever.”

So he can stay home with the kids, my rebellious mind argued.

“Stop that. You are about three thousand steps ahead of yourself right now. Besides, you have work to do. You can’t afford to be distracted right now.”

The firm reminder had me skipping breakfast to head straight to the piano. A tune was playing in my head, but as I transferred it to the keys, I realized it wasn’t mine. I cursed softly, trying again. That was definitely me. Unpolished, unstructured, utterly amateur.

“Come on, Paisley, you’re a pro. You know how to do this.” I cracked my fingers and positioned them. Focus on the country. A simple two-step. You can build anything off a two-step, right?

I had just found my zone when a steady beat broke my concentration. Puzzled, I frowned, trying to place the sound. Whack, whack… It brought back memories of hot summers, playing until the street lights came on. Whack, whack…clank.

“Do I even have a basketball hoop?” I wondered out loud.

I did, apparently. In the little concrete alcove which led into the underground garage, an unused hoop hung over the door. Unused, until today. I paused in the kitchen door for a moment, admiring the view.

Tyler’s dark hair blew behind him as he raced down the driveway, dribbling the basketball. He wore no shirt, and his inked skin glistened in the sunlight, highlighting the cut of his muscles. Sharp hips and tight abs formed a V down to the low-slung hem of his sweatpants, making my mouth water.

Enough. You have work to do.

“Hey, Tyler!”

He spun to face me, bouncing the ball behind his back and catching it again. He smiled at her, tossing his hair, breathing just a little heavy. God, he was gorgeous.

“What’s up, darlin’?”

“I’m trying to work. Could you keep it down a bit?”

“On a day like this?” He extended his arms overhead, taking in the cloudless azure sky, tossing the ball back and forth between his hands. “Not a chance, darlin’.”

“Please?”

“All right, tell you what,” he said, crouching low to bounce the ball, flashing me a wicked grin. “I’ll stop playing…if you beat me. One on one, let’s go.”

I shouldn’t have. I should have taken the ball, turned around, and gone back to work. But I couldn’t resist that grin, those eyes…or that challenge.

“You’re on,” I said, throwing my hair up in a ponytail.

He bounced the ball at me and I caught it. Childhood wasn’t so long ago, was it? I dodged him, taking pleasure in the surprise I saw on his face.

“Abbott makes a break for it, oh! But she’s blocked at half court! Macintyre won’t let her win so easily!” Tyler bounced around as he put on a dramatic announcer’s voice. I wanted to laugh, but I had a point to prove.

Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I lobbed the ball overhead. He batted at it but missed.

“Nothin’ but net!” I crowed as the ball bounced off the pavement.

“Yeah, whatever. Two outta three.”

“Bring it on.”

I was feeling cocky now, and started showing off. His reactions only encouraged me, as did the one basket he made. Determined as all get-out, I made the final basket by the skin of my teeth, barely dodging his lengthy reach.

“Abbott wins! The crowd goes wild!” I danced backward, laughing.

“Good job,” he said with a sly smile.

I saw the glint in his eye, and I knew. Elation quickly flipped to fury, and I ran at him.

“You jerk! You let me win!” I jumped to tackle him, but he caught me in his strong arms, holding me still.

“Whoa there, little lady,” he laughed at me. “You have work to do, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean you get to let me win!” I punched him lightly on the top of his shoulders.

He chuckled from his throat and moistened his lower lip, distracting me instantly. His hard body mashed against mine, the effortless way he held me off the ground, those eyes, those damn lips…

My hands trailed behind his neck, my fingers laced together behind his head. He met my gaze evenly, smoldering. The rush of exercise and competition beat hot in my blood, mingling with the tingle between my thighs.

I caught myself a hairbreadth before the kiss, gasping at my own audacity. I wriggled out of his arms and took a few steps backwards, still trying to break the gaze. A few shuddering breaths later, I had wrestled myself under control.

“Um… So, we should go out, blow off some steam,” I suggested, tearing my eyes away. “Do you want to? I mean, go out somewhere? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just…out of the house. I need a change of scene, you know, to get the music flowing, I think I might be stagnating a little bit here, and what you said last night made a lot of sense, you know, that I’m surrounded by these people and this stuff all the time, I don’t really know how to connect…” I was babbling, and I cut myself off with a sharp inhale.

He was watching me with amusement thick in his glittering eyes. “Sure,” he said calmly. “I’d like that.”

“Great. Um… Yeah. Good.”

With that, I turned and walked back into the house. Fled, really. As much as anyone could flee without actually running. I thought I was going to die from the embarrassment; terrible for me in the moment, but excellent for the songwriter in my head, who gleefully instructed me to work it into my music.

“You’re a cruel and brutal mistress,” I told the piano.

I managed to siphon some of the cringiness of the moment into some scribbled lyrics and a rough tune. This album was coming together in bits and pieces.

I was scraping the bottom of the barrel, I was sure of it. My first album had poured out of me fully formed, like some goddess from the head of Zeus. The second was structured, fed to me by Jude and his team. They told me exactly what they needed, and I provided it. The third was an explosion of everything I had wanted to do during the second album, but hadn’t been able to.

As for this one… If something didn’t change, this would be my last album. My legacy would die with a whimper. If I had to keep scraping ideas together like this, my music would sound more and more forced. My label would notice. My fans would notice. The whole freaking world would notice, and I would be the first to know. Tyler crossed my line of sight as I was pondering the problem of inspiration, and flashed me that wicked smile of his.

“All right, Tyler,” I murmured to myself, cracking my knuckles. “Prepare to be immortalized.”

It was scathing and catchy and perfect. I worked on it all day long, and it was nearly usable by the time I put it away for the day. I tucked it into the box with my other almost-finished works, then told Tyler to get ready to go. It was time to get back to reality and mingle with the masses.

“Dress down,” I told myself as I shuffled through my closet. “Time to mingle within, not float above.”

Anxiety twisted my gut. The floating above had been my protection for so long, I was afraid to let it go. I had to remind myself several times that Tyler was my protection now.

“Besides,” I scoffed at myself as I donned the tight band tee. “It’s not like anything’s going to happen tonight anyway.”