Noelle loved the thrill of being center stage. Feeling the energy in the room. The applause for a job well done. But now the adrenaline rush was over, exhaustion seeped into every cell. Her fingers ached and her throat was scratchy.

Performing two sets was a lot to do on her own, and unlike Nashville, where people ate dinner, chatted, and ignored the band, tonight everyone was looking at her.

“Very impressive.” The sensual, masculine voice set off a wave of tingles.

There Ethan stood, looking more delicious than Doc B’s cherry lollipops. She wanted him to touch her, hold her, promise her forever, but he couldn’t—and he was too honorable to lie. “Thanks, but I wish you hadn’t requested that new song.”

“Why? It was fantastic.”

“Don’t you think folks will figure out it’s about…” …about us.

She wanted to bash him over the head till he figured out the song was about them. Every line had pricked her heart full of holes. Didn’t he get she was bleeding, standing right there in front of him, asking him to love her? Yet he didn’t see her as anything other than a roommate and friend.

“What’s most important is you have an opportunity to record it.” He oozed with excitement, and looked like a kid who’d found the missing piece of his prized game.

“I’ll record it eventually, when I get the money to purchase studio time.”

“You get to record it now, in a professional studio.”

She reached for her guitar case. “Ethan, you're not making any sense. How many beers did you have tonight?”

He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and thrust it at her midsection. “This is for you.”

She stared at the black and gold card, too exhausted to figure out what game he was playing.

He lifted her hand and placed the card in her palm. “It’s your golden ticket.”

She lifted the black and gold card toward the light. Phillip T. Sutton, Music and Audio Productions, Las Vegas, NV. Sutton. Sutton. There must be a million Suttons in the world, but why did the name sound so familiar? “Where did you get this card?”

“He’s a friend. He came to hear you sing tonight.”

She couldn’t help but trip over her skepticism. She extended her arm to give him the card back, but he pushed her hand back.

“Phil owed me a favor. I called, and he was able to meet for a beer. He wants you to call the number on the back, and talk to one of his managers. He said something about laying down tracks.”

I bet he did. In his car or his couch or in his bed.

No, no, no. Ethan would never have a friend like that. Stop being so negative. “Look, Ethan, I know you mean well, but I’ve spent too much time calling and making appointments with people who didn’t have the connections I need.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Trust me. This guy is the real deal.”

“Sure. Maybe he works for someone, who knows someone, who knows someone else.” The way Ethan was looking at her, he could have been gnawing Buffalo jerky his jaws were clenched so tight. She threw up her hand, and added on a state-of-the-art eye-roll. “Fine. I’ll take the card.”

“And you will call, right?”

“Sure. I’ll call.” She slipped the card into her purse just as Ashley arrived.

“Are you coming?” Ashley handed Noelle her coat.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Noelle confirmed.

“Hurry up, it’s cold outside, and the hot wings are getting cold. Dad’s holding dinner for us.”

“You’re not coming back to the house?” Ethan’s brows drew together, scoring lines of confusion on his face.

“I haven’t spent much time with Ash. She invited me to spend the night.”

“You can come too,” Ashley offered, “but I can’t promise you won’t get your toenails painted.”

Ethan’s face shaded the dearest tint of pink. “No thanks.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I leave Cheddar at the house. He’s fed and shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Go ahead. He’ll be fine. I’ll see you in the morning. We can talk more then.”

Disappointment and frustration wrestled to see which one could beat up her heart the best. Hadn’t she promised herself not to allow men to hurt her anymore? In less than a month she’d done it again.

Noelle took a deep breath, shoved her arms through her coat sleeves, then lifted her guitar. She should just leave. Never look back, but her heart betrayed her again.

“Ethan?”

He spun around like a football player spinning off a tackle. “Thanks for coming tonight. It meant a lot to have you here.”

“You’re welcome.”

His intense stare made her pulse race. Her breath became shallow He looked like he’d like to remove every piece of her clothing with his teeth. She could imagine the scrape of his jaw against her inner thigh. His warm hands on her skin.

“Noelle. Are you coming? Jenna’s waiting at the house. Grant decided to stay home with Kyle, so it’s girls’ night.”

Noelle blinked the sensation away. “Yes. I’m coming.”

But not in the way she wanted to be, with Ethan on the bottom, her on top, riding him into the sunset.

She stopped just outside the bar’s front door to let the cool air chill the vision. Ashley pulled up in a massive pickup truck. Noelle stored her guitar behind the seat, then heaved herself into the passenger seat of the four-by-four’s cab.

“You sure you don’t want to go back to the cabin with Hotness Honey?”

“Hotness…what? How do you come up with this stuff?”

“Let me know when you’re visiting next, and I’ll make sure Jenna throws one of her Sin Sugar parties. I blushed so hard at the last one, my toenails turned red for a week.”

Sorrow dissolved the oxygen in her lungs.

She wouldn’t be back. At least not for a long time. By then Jenna might have thought up a whole new line of products.

Once she arrived in LA, she’d have to hit the streets, find a job, and figure out how to make her life work. She studied Ashley’s profile.

“Ash, are you happy here? I mean, in Elkridge?”

Her friend stared ahead, the headlights reflecting off the icy roads. “There was a time I wanted nothing to do with this place. I planned to go to college in San Diego, get my teaching certificate, and make my mark on the world. At the time, all I could think about was college boys, the beach, getting a tan, being around people who had the same interests, and leaving all the Elkridge baggage behind. Then my mom got sick and I had to come home.”

“But that was a couple of years ago. What about now?”

“I’m married to the most amazing man. I have a couple of kids who are the joy of my life. Plus, I’m finding out my dad is quite the comedian, particularly when he's in love.”

“Love? Wait. I thought you and your dad had problems.”

“It’s funny how when you fall in love, life takes on a different shade of honesty, with a little bit of forgiveness mixed in.”

“Sounds like you found the perfect life.”

“Oh, trust me. Six people plus a dog under one roof is far from perfect, but it’s my life, and I adore it.” Ashley drove up her long driveway. “What are you going to do about Ethan?”

The question nudged her out of her melancholy. “Nothing. Ethan’s just a friend.”

“Please tell me you’re not going blind like Mara. She can’t see, and even Mara knows the cute doctor would love to give you a thorough physical.”

“How do you know he hasn’t already?”

“Oh, my. Do tell.”

Noelle’s face flushed. “I thought…I hoped…I wanted to help him. He’s so broken, but he’s also such a great guy. He deserves so much more.”

“And what about you? What do you deserve?”

Her thoughts got stuck in a pile of emotional junk. What a doozy of a question. What did she deserve? She deserved to fall in love with a guy who wasn’t emotionally stuck in the past, and who had enough patience to support her while she figured a few things out.

Noelle folded her hands in her lap. “I need to take a little time and figure out what I really want.”

“Are you sure LA is what you want?”

“What choice do I have? It’s not like jobs fall out of the sky here—not my type of jobs, anyway.” Noelle waggled her finger at Ashley. “And don’t you dare mention the doctor. He’s already done enough interfering in my life.”

“By giving you a place to stay.” The incredulity came along with an attitude.

“No, by inviting one of his buddies to hear me sing tonight. He gave Ethan some story about being a record producer. I thought Ethan was a better judge of character.”

“Why do you assume Ethan’s not telling you the truth?”

“Come on. What are the odds of Ethan knowing a guy at a production company who happens to be in town, and takes the night off, during Christmas no less, to hear me sing? The guy even had this bogus card. Like I haven’t run into that ploy before. “

Ashley pulled the truck into her family’s three-car garage. “Give me the card.” She wiggled her fingers.

“Why?” A choking sensation shimmied up Noelle’s spine.

“I want to call his 'so-called friend' and check him out.”

“It’s late.”

“He was just in the bar an hour ago. He can’t be asleep already. Hand it over.”

Noelle grabbed her phone and the business card. “Fine, but I’ll call. When this guy turns out to be a total fraud—and he will, guaranteed—you owe me a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and I mean the whole bowl, not a wimpy-dimpy scoop.”

“You’re on. I’ll even add hot fudge.”

“Fine. Be ready to pay up, sistah.”

Noelle retrieved the card and held it up to the light. “All right, Mr. Phillip T. Sutton. Here I come.”

The phone rang, then rang again. She pulled the phone away from her ear, but Ashley was speaking in her phone to leave a message.

Just as she was anticipating the call to roll over to voicemail, a man’s voice boomed over the line.

“This better be good.”

The masculine barking tone tuned up the ‘A’ in her attitude. “Is Mr. Phillips T. Sutton available?” She emphasized the ‘T’ to highlight the idiotic. Who used their middle name on business cards anymore?

“Who is this?”

A bear coming out of hibernation might have been more pleasant. Noelle nearly hung up on the fraud, but curiosity and Ashley’s stare got the better of her.

“Noelle Conroy. I’d like to tell Mr. Phillip T. Sutton playing games isn't honorable. Artists work hard at their craft and spend years studying and practicing and putting their heart and soul into their work. They deserve to be treated with…”

“Respect,” Ashley whispered.

“…treated with respect,” Noelle finished. Pride for putting this jerk into the trash can where he belonged slipped into place.

“Ethan didn’t tell you who I am, did he, Miss Conroy?”

“No.” She leaned back in the car seat, and crossed her legs, letting her foot bounce. “He gave me your card.”

“Yes, I gave him my personal card. I didn’t have any studio cards with me. Usually I let my business managers take care of contacting talent, but when I hear talent, I take an interest.”

I bet you do. “So what will your interest cost me?”

“Nothing but your time, Miss Conroy. At professional studios, we pay the artist, not the other way around, and at my studio, we only make stars.”

Stars…right? “Like who?”

“Have you heard of Sara Linen, or the band called Mismatched Shoes?”

The cogs churned the pieces of information over and over and over and her chest tightened. A thread of information floated to the surface, and she gasped. “Tell me you’re not PT Sutton, the visionary behind crossing over pop and country sounds. The three-time Grammy winner and mixing master.”

The other end of the line was silent. She closed her eyes and dropped her forehead to the dashboard. “Mr. Sutton. I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding.”

“I believe you are correct, Miss Conroy. However, if you can continue producing original work like you sang tonight, I see a promising future for you. But Miss Conroy?”

“Yes, sir?” Her voice sounded tiny to her own ears.

“If you work for me, you’ll need to put everything you got into every song—leave nothing on the table. Understand?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good. Then call my manager. He’ll send me the audio files, and we can discuss next steps.”

Excitement choked off her air.

“Miss Conroy, are you still there?”

“Yes. I’ll make the call. First thing in the morning.” Since it would take months before an appointment would be available. Studios were booked months in advance, and rarely had any openings.

The phone call ended, and Noelle stared at her phone.

“Well?” Ashley asked.

Noelle sat back in the seat and stared at the garage wall. “Ethan wasn’t lying when he said he was connected. I owe you a bunch of ice cream. Though right now I could eat the entire gallon.”

“Well, duh. He doesn’t strike me as the kind who would lie.”

“I’ll have to apologize to Ethan.” Shame shimmied up her skin. “What will I say?”

Ashley dropped the keys in her purse and grabbed the to-go bag. “Ice cream and fudge?”

“Huh?”

“You need ice cream, hot fudge, and a bubble bath first. The solution to the world's problems will have to wait.”

“Does that actually work?”

“No, but while you’re indulging in carb heaven, life seems grand until reality sets in. Besides, why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?”

“You’re right. I’ll tell Ethan I’m excited about the opportunity and thank him for making the connection first thing in the morning.”

“There. Problem solved, and you didn’t even need hot fudge.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not getting out of sharing ice cream.”

“Then we better hurry up. Jenna and my Dad are inside. We might be out of luck.”

Noelle slid out of the truck and followed Ashley inside.

The house smelled like home.

She set her purse on the counter. In that instant, she figured out what she’d been missing—a sense of home, a place to write songs, play her guitar, but more importantly, waking up beside the person she loved. Ethan instantly came to mind, and she understood why.

She really did love him. Loved him with her whole heart, and she was certain, if she were patient enough, someday he would be able to love her in return.

She had decisions to make to avoid the regret of saying, “if I’d only known today would be the last day, I would have...”