Chapter Four

Warner had told him his wife and the girls would be at the bar. Blake had hoped that meant all of them, and looking out at the redheaded beauty, he was happy it had indeed meant all of them.

He hadn’t been able to shake her from his mind since he sat with her in the barn last night. He had to leave her or he would have exploded having her so close.

The road was full of eager, beautiful woman, but there had been something about her that stuck with him—knocked the breath out of him.

And just because women were plentiful on the road, didn’t mean he partook in that luxury. It wasn’t how he was raised. Luckily, Warner Wright was a tried and true gentleman who was dedicated to his wife. It made it very easy to ignore the calling of what the road offered. Blake was proud of that and he could look his mother in the eye with a clear conscience.

But as he played, his eyes would wander to her. Every word of every song Warner sang meant something special and he felt that directed toward her.

This was crazy, he decided, looking away for the first time. It was the holidays, that was all. He was missing home and family. They’d have their time, but to get involved with some woman, just because he was lonely for home, that was never a good idea.

As it approached nearly one in the morning, the band finished their set to a full crowd. This was what it was all about, Blake thought. Music. Friends. Opportunity.

He’d kept his eyes diverted from the table where Tiffany sat. It had been too distracting. He’d excuse himself for the night and head back to the hotel. That was best.

He packed up his guitar and hung it on his back. The hotel wasn’t far from the club, but at one in the morning, he didn’t need to be walking lower Broadway. There were always enough cabs out taking the drunk crowd home. He’d get a cab and head to his hotel and straight to bed. He was exhausted.

Blake said his goodbyes backstage and headed out to the street to find a cab. His leather jacket, though usually warm, didn’t quite shield him from the cold of the December snow, which had arrived just in time for Christmas, he thought. However, unless it snowed again in a few days, he figured any of the newly fallen snow would be gone.

Tiffany kissed each of the girls on the cheek and said her goodbyes as the band left the stage. She was exhausted and before she became more confused about things, it was better to leave.

Really there was no reason to feel the way she did. It was just the season. The Kellers and Bensons had each other. That was very special. In all the years that she’d been around them, she’d never felt left out, but tonight she felt as though it was just too much to take in. She’d rather head home and go to bed. A woman with the holiday blues had to know better than to stir it up with a stranger. The way she was feeling, she’d just end up taking the bass player to bed and it would be over. She didn’t want that tonight.

She pushed open the front door of Tim-Tim-Tom’s as she slipped her arm through the sleeve of her coat and moved quickly to avoid the door slamming on her.

That was when her high-heeled shoe caught a patch of ice and she was destined to fall on her ass on the street.

She flailed, spun, and surely felt the ground moving closer as a set of arms wrapped around her and caught her just before she hit the frozen ground.

“Whoa, sweetheart. Looks like that patch of ice got the better of you,” the voice behind her said smoothly.

He set her on her feet and she turned toward her savior to find the very man she’d been afraid to face after the concert.

“I thought I recognized that hair,” he gave her a wink, just as he had from the stage. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Fine.” She smoothed her hands over her stomach and let out a breath. “Fine,” she said again.

“Good.”

“What are you doing out here? Aren’t you staying with everyone?”

His eyebrows rose. “What are you doing out here? Isn’t this too early to leave the girls on a night out?”

“It’s one in the morning.”

“You’re right.”

“It’s late. I need to get home.”

He smoothed his hand over his hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail. “Yeah, me too.”

She let herself ease around him. He didn’t seem to be a threat standing there in the cold. “What are you standing out here for?”

“Waiting for a cab.”

Her stomach tightened as she shivered in the cold looking at the handsome man before her. “Why don’t I just give you a ride?”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It serves two purposes. I don’t have to walk to my car alone and you don’t have to pay a cab.”

The corner of his mouth turned up into a sexy smile that twisted that tightness in her stomach.

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Do you have room for this?” He nodded toward the guitar strapped across his back.

“Of course.”

She took her first step, out of his arms, only to find that the ground was wet and slippery.

He took hold of her again. “How far is your car?”

“In the parking lot at the end of the street.”

“Might be easier if I carry you,” he said, scooping her up off her feet as though she weighed nothing.

She let out a little yelp and thought about protesting. But it was sorta nice to have his arms wrapped around her. Her first instinct was to wrap her arms tightly around his neck. “If you fall, we both fall.”

“I’m more worried about my guitar. I got this,” he said with another wink as he walked slowly down the street to the parking lot.

All the scents of the night flooded her senses. His cologne and the musky scent of sweat. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder and enjoy his arms wrapped around her, but she refrained.

“Which car?”

“Mercedes under the street light.”

He gave her a nod and headed toward the car. When he’d reached it, he set her feet on the ground. “This one? This is nice.”

She pushed her hair, which was growing wet, out of her face. “Yeah. This is it,” she said digging into her purse to find her keys.

“Much better than a cab.” He walked around to the other side of the car and waited for her to unlock the doors. He opened the back and slid his soft guitar case along the back seat.

She started the car quickly and cranked up the heater as he slid into the seat next to hers.

“Where are we headed?”

“Omni Nashville.”

Tiffany pulled out of the parking lot and headed away from lower Broadway.

“This is gorgeous, isn’t it?” he asked, looking out the window at the lights of the famous bars that lined the street. Christmas décor hung from the streetlights and everything seemed just a little more festive and bright.

“Wasn’t always so nice.”

“Johnny Cash museum,” he shouted out as they passed the building. “Can you imagine a whole museum all about you?”

“Sure. I call it my boutique.”

He turned in his seat to face her. “Your jewelry?”

She nodded. “Tiffany’s Treasures—my store. It’s downtown and showcases all my pieces.”

Blake reached across the car and touched the bauble which dangled from her ear.

“Your own museum.”

She shifted a quick glance toward him and then back to the road as she bit down on her bottom lip. His simple touch had sent shivers through her entire body.

“What made you get into that?”

Swallowing hard she gave it some thought. “Same as your bracelet really. I learned beading and wiring in school. I took it a little further. What about you and your music?”

“Picked up my first guitar when I was three. It was my grandfather’s and he sat me on his lap and let me strum while he fingered the notes. I thought I was a genius.”

A smile permeated his lips.

“I guess we knew our callings,” she said softly.

“If only I had a voice like Warner’s. But I don’t.”

“Is that what you really want? To be center stage?”

He shrugged. “You just always wonder what it would be like. Don’t get me wrong though. This is the best gig I’ve ever had. Warner is a true gentleman and dedicated solely to his wife and family. He includes ever member of his band in everything, including Christmas parties at family’s houses.” He chuckled. “I don’t feel as though I’m behind the scenes. I’ve helped write a few songs and I have more solos than any other guitarist aside from Eddie Van Halen, I think.”

That made her laugh right out loud. “An idol of yours?”

“Hell yeah! Like the king of guitar. C’mon, admit it. No one has a sound like that. We all have the same instrument, but what he does with it…” His eyes were wide like a child’s at Christmas.

Music was his love. It was the life he breathed and she knew that from listening to him and watching him just talk about it.

He touched her earring again. “What inspires you? Certainly not Eddie Van Halen.”

She chuckled as she pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and parked the car. “The Crown Jewels.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Any piece in particular?”

“The sapphire ring Charles gave to Diana. The one Kate wears now. That was the most stunning ring I’d ever seen. Of course, I didn’t see it in person.”

“Of course.”

“Growing up I always had a tiara. The early ones were made of tin foil and glued on beads.”

“Then you moved into real ones?”

“I won a beauty pageant when I was six. It started my desire to have shiny, pretty things.”

“You’re pretty enough not to need all that,” he said as he watched her. What more could she say to that? She was simply lost in his eyes now.

He didn’t move from the car. He sat there, turned in his seat to face her, and gazed at her.

It should have been uncomfortable. She’d met this man once and if she gave it much thought, he was confrontational. Why didn’t she feel the least bit afraid having him just stare at her in the dark in her car?

“Thank you for the ride. This was much better than a cab.”

“You’re welcome.”

He still didn’t move and she found she didn’t want him to either.

“I know this is crazy,” he broke the silence as he rubbed the growth on his chin. “It’s nearly two in the morning and you don’t know me, but I’d love if you came in and had a drink or some coffee with me.”

Her lips parted and her brain told her to say no. This wasn’t a good idea. Look at him. Long hair, tattooed, leather jacket. He was a nice guy, but…

“I’d love to,” her heart seemed to answer before her brain could completely compute its thoughts into her clearly.

He winked. This was obviously his thing—the wink. She was falling for it hook, line, and sinker too.

She turned off the car as he stepped out into the night. He retrieved his guitar from the back seat and was already around to her by the time she stepped out onto the wet pavement.

“You should carry some other shoes with you too, in case of weather like this.”

She huffed out a breath as she took his arm. “I’m a shoeaholic. I worship my shoes and wear them whenever I get the chance. I’ve never fallen and broken anything.”

“Yet.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“As long as I’m around, I’ll keep you steady and make sure you don’t fall.”

Her breath caught as his arm slid firmly around her waist. She knew she was making one of the biggest mistakes of her life walking into the hotel, but he made her not even care.