The last Saturday of September rolled in with a heatwave. “Unseasonably hot temperatures,” said the local weather guy. Yeah, no shit. After my shower, I still felt as if I needed another one. The back of my neck was drenched, and all I’d done was blow dry my hair.
“Mom, can you help me with my tie?” Luke called from the hallway.
“Oh Lord. I’m afraid I’m not very good at this part, but I will give it my best shot.”
He laughed. “Dad said you could tie a Windsor knot.”
“He said that?” I asked, taking the silk in my hand.
Luke nodded as I crossed the wide end of his blue tie over the narrow side turning it underneath. “When is Brandt picking you up?” I asked, bringing the wide end up and turning it down through the loop.
“In about ten minutes.”
I eyed him, as I tightened the tie bringing it up to the collar. “You gotta girl that you’re gonna dance with tonight?”
He laughed. “Yeah, her name is Addie and she’s a cheerleader. She loves Star Wars movies and she eats Little Debbie oatmeal cream pies every day at lunch. I’m seriously starting to think she has an addiction.”
I smoothed my hands over his shoulders. “Do you think we need to hold an intervention?”
He loosened his tie and then shook out his arms. “Nah, but if we need one, I’ll let you know.”
I nodded. “Do you mind if I take a picture of you?”
Luke groaned at my request but he smiled when I brought my camera up.
“All right, got it. Okay, now, listen to me—I’m going to extend your curfew to one in the morning. This is a one-time thing, tonight only, but if you continue not breaking my trust, I’ll think about extending your curfew until midnight for the rest of the school year.”
His mouth fell open. “Mom, are you kidding me?”
I shook my head. “Nope, you have earned it. You’re keeping up with your classes and football. I’m extremely proud of you. Your English teacher thinks that you should move up to the AP class.”
“Yeah, I’m thinking about it.” He leaned in and hugged me tightly. The sound of a horn blaring outside pulled us apart.
“Now, go enjoy yourself and tell Brandt I said hello.”
“I will, Mom,” he called over his shoulder striding for the front door.
“Make good choices. No later than one, I mean it.” The door closed before he could reply. I peeked out the window to watch him climb into Brandt’s car.
When they pulled out of the driveway, I raced upstairs to change my clothes. Wyatt texted me earlier and told me to be at his house before six-thirty. He wouldn’t drop any details about where we were going on our date.
I traded in my black leggings for black skinny jeans, and I stripped off my Ramones t-shirt, tossing it onto the chair. I’d given a lot of thought to the outfit for tonight based on Wyatt’s limited details and decided to go for casual sexy. I pulled on my favorite printed blouse and then decided to break out my favorite animal print booties.
Nostalgia washed over me as I remembered having these first date butterflies in high school. I wondered if that was how Luke felt tonight. Was it different for guys?
“Okay, now will you tell me where we’re going?” I asked, for the tenth time.
Wyatt’s hand landed on my knee. “I suppose I can let you in on the secret. I’m taking you to a private concert. Ever heard of Dalton McCoy?”
My eyes popped wide. “Of course I have. He’s the bad boy of country, and he’s hot.”
“Hannah.” The way my name rolled off his tongue with warning sent shivers through my body. “I’ll turn this car around right now.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be jealous,” I teased. “And no, you’re not taking date night away from me.”
He lifted my hand and kissed the back of my knuckles. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“So, do you know Dalton McCoy?” I asked, rolling my head against the headrest.
“I do,” he confessed. “We met at the CMT Awards a few years back. Turned out he was kicking off his tour in Indianapolis, and he invited me and some of the guys from the team.”
“Kate didn’t go with you?” I blurted not thinking.
He laughed. “Kate wasn’t a big fan of country music. She was more into bands like 311, Lit, The Eagles and Fleetwood Mac. But, Gwen Stefani was her girl crush and I think she’d be amused that Gwen’s dating Blake Shelton. What was Carter’s favorite music?”
His question took me by surprise. I guess we were bound to go down the road of talking about our deceased spouses from time to time. Was this normal conversation? Ryleigh’s voice popped into my head: “Just take it day by day. There’s no rule book.”
“He was into classic rock, he loved Led Zeppelin but he also loved listening to INXS, Billy Joel and Bruce Springsteen.”
“Ah, yes, The Boss.” The smile on his face broadened as he flipped on the satellite radio. “I’m on Fire” piped through the speakers.
My fingers drummed against my thigh as I watched the evening sky fade to black with flecks of city lights in the distance. Everything with Wyatt was so completely comfortable. There were times I felt like I’d known this man forever. How could it be this easy between the two of us? God, I wanted this to be real and not a rebound.
“Are you hungry,” he asked.
“I could eat. What do you have in mind?”
His blue eyes danced with devilish delight. “There’s a restaurant outside Big Sky that’s a favorite of mine. Best cheeseburgers you’ve ever had.”
“Well, I guess I need to taste these burgers. Let’s go.”
After dinner we drove down a long and winding road to a vineyard. De Bleu Vineyard sat on a hilltop with breathtaking views of the mountains. The building was Tuscan-inspired with a stucco façade, and the stucco theme continued to the interior on the walls. Wood beams lined the ceilings, and Wyatt pointed out the Portuguese tiles and the beautifully carved doors.
The venue isn’t filled to capacity, less than fifty people in attendance all awaiting a private concert by Dalton McCoy.
“Let’s grab a drink,” he said, sliding his fingers into mine. Wyatt led me through the crowd, finding an open spot at the bar where he placed our order.
“Well, if it isn’t Wyatt Hamilton,” I heard the sing-song of a southern drawl call out from behind us.
I turned to find myself face to face with the man of the hour, Dalton McCoy, whose hand was clamped firmly on Wyatt’s shoulder. He stood before me wearing a black t-shirt that had some motorcycle crew emblem on the front and a pair of distressed denim jeans.
“Dalton, hey, man,” Wyatt said, giving him a hug.
“I’m so glad you could be here,” Dalton commented, his gaze shifting to me. “And who is this beauty?”
Wyatt handed me a glass of white wine and then slung his arm over my shoulders. “Dalton, I’d like you to meet Hannah Richman.”
“Hannah, nice to meet you, darlin’.”
“You too,” I said, shaking his hand. “I loved your last album. It got me through a rough time in my life.”
He shoved his hands into his front pockets. “Thank you, I’m glad to know that my music was part of your healin’ process.”
Wyatt smiled down at me squeezing my shoulder. I sipped my wine and listened as the two of them caught up. There was a sense of warmth between them which reflected in their conversation. It was clear that these two men had a genuine friendship. Wyatt looked relaxed and happy and his smile lit up the entire room.
Dalton slapped Wyatt’s shoulder. “Listen, I gotta go, my set starts in ten minutes. Y’all enjoy the show and I’ll catch up with you after.”
“All right, good luck, buddy,” Wyatt said, raising his beer bottle in the air.
Wyatt led me through the crowd as we took our seats next to the stage in the VIP area. Velvet ropes separated us from the crowd, and we along with ten others had our own private bartender. Dalton emerged onto the stage and the crowd erupted with cheers.
“Hi y’all,” he said, into the microphone. “I want to thank everyone for coming out tonight to my little soirée.”
Claps and whistles drifted through the crowd. “Love you, Dalton.”
“I love y’all too.” Dalton took a seat on a barstool and then his fingers thrummed against the strings. “I want to kick off the festivities with a little number called, ‘How the Other Half Lives.’”
Wyatt lowered his mouth to my ear. “I wish you’d worn a skirt,” he rasped, his hand inching up my thigh.
Heat spread like wildfire across my skin. “They’ll be plenty of time for that later,” I whispered as I turned my head to look at him. His gaze caressed my body, and the licking of his lips was incredibly carnal.
Dalton’s melodic words rippled through the room. Wyatt’s eyes were filled with a hunger so passionate it stirred a pang low in my belly, overwhelming me with desire.
“Wyatt, I need to know that this isn’t just physical between us. That there are real feelings here.”
Wyatt’s hand threaded through my hair and his lustful blue eyes scorching me, leaving me breathless. “I have a confession,” he whispered. “I had a dream that you were mine.”
The weight of his words slammed into my ribs. “What about when you declared that I was yours in the equipment room?” I reminded, before pressing my lips to his.
Wyatt’s hand gripped the inside of my thigh. “I know that things are a bit complicated, but I decided that it was okay for me to feel for you, Hannah.”
“I have a confession,” I whispered. “I never thought I’d get a second-chance for happiness with someone else. I thought my story had ended with Carter. I’m not so sure anymore.”
He gave me that slow sexy, panty-melting smile. “With you, it’s different.” Wyatt wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into him, his lips finding their way to the familiar place on my neck.
I bent my eyes to look at him. “Yeah, somehow, it is different.”