By October, Corbin had started to settle into his new life in Riverview. Spending time with his family—something he’d considered torture when he was younger—was now one of the true joys of his life. When he wasn’t with them, he spent his time writing, attending AA meetings, or working at Turn the Page. When he wasn’t at the bookstore, he was wishing he was at the bookstore, because he was finding it harder and harder to stay away from his pretty boss.
Despite his fascination with Jolie, he’d managed to write some decent songs during the past month or so. Corbin had no real plans for his music. Not yet, anyway. But he was happy with his songwriting, and he wanted to save the recordings, just in case. So, he bought a computer and downloaded a studio app to record the tracks.
It felt good to be writing songs again—even if he was the only one who might ever hear them.
Well, he and Jolie.
When Corbin let it slip that he’d been writing, Jolie begged him to bring his guitar to the river the next afternoon.
“The fall leaves are beautiful,” Corbin said, gazing at the mountains in the distance.
“They are. And you’re stalling.”
He couldn’t deny it. Corbin had never been one to be nervous about sharing new songs, but for some reason, this seemed different. Important. Meaningful. Maybe because the inspiration for these songs was sitting right in front of him, with her long hair in a braid and her green eyes bright with excitement as she eagerly awaited whatever he was about to play for her.
But that wasn’t the only reason he was nervous.
“I have a confession to make, Jolie.”
She crossed her legs in front of her. “Okay.”
“These songs . . . they’re the most I’ve ever written . . . while sober.”
Jolie nodded in understanding.
“I mean, there’s a very good chance they’ll suck. I just want you to be prepared. And I want you to be honest if they are.”
“They won’t suck.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they won’t.”
Corbin sighed heavily and pulled his guitar out of its case. Her faith unnerved him, maybe because he was used to letting everyone down. The very last thing he ever wanted to do was disappoint her.
Jolie must’ve sensed his anxiety, because before he placed his fingers on the strings, she gently reached for his hand.
“Don’t be nervous. It’s just me.”
Corbin smiled and squeezed her hand. She had no way of knowing it, but these days, it was her opinion that mattered most.
Taking a deep breath, he attached the capo to the neck of the guitar and strummed a few strings to make sure it was in tune.
Then he started to sing.
One song effortlessly flowed into the next, with Corbin’s soft tenor voice echoing across the water. He kept his eyes closed or on his guitar the entire time, too afraid to see Jolie’s reaction to the music. It was only when he played the final note in his last song that he finally allowed himself a glance at the beautiful woman sitting in front of him.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I know they’re rough,” he said, his voice shaking slightly as he placed his guitar back in the case. “I’m still struggling with the bridge in that last one. My fault, since I wrote it that way. I was thinking maybe I should cut it out completely or—”
“Corbin—”
“And in the first song . . . the chorus needs some work. I’m thinking maybe trying it in a different key or something. I don’t know.”
“Corbin James, shut up and listen to me.”
He took a steadying breath and gazed at her.
“I loved them,” she said softly.
“Yeah?”
“Every single word. Every single note.”
Corbin lifted his hand and trailed his fingers along her cheek, wiping her tears away. He heard her breath hitch in her throat as he leaned closer. He knew it was risky. Kissing her could ruin everything before it even had the chance to turn into something . . . something that might be incredible and wonderful and life changing.
It was a chance he had to take.
Not kissing her simply wasn’t an option.
Not anymore.
Jolie’s eyes fluttered closed as he cupped her cheek, letting his nose glide against hers. With a quiet sigh, her lips parted in silent invitation, and he couldn’t help but smile when he felt her tremble against him.
“This could change everything,” Corbin whispered, kissing the hollow just below her ear.
“I hope so.”
Their arms wrapped around each other, and Corbin buried his face against her neck, inhaling deeply and drowning in her sweet scent. She moaned softly, and it was that moan that finally broke him.
Corbin had every intention of kissing her gently, but her moan, combined with her hands pulling him impossibly closer, sent his body into overdrive, and they both groaned when his mouth hungrily captured hers. Frantic and sweet. Frenzied and tender. With quiet sighs and gentle whispers and warm arms that held each other tight, they laid back against the autumn grass and kissed until the sun disappeared behind the mountains.
As they lay looking up at the stars, Corbin felt Jolie laugh against his chest.
“Something funny, Miss Daniels?”
“I was just thinking about today.”
“What about it?”
“Best day ever.”
Corbin grinned and kissed her hair. “I think so, too.”
She snorted. “Right.”
“You don’t believe me?”
Jolie lifted her eyes to his and smiled. “Not the best ever. Not for you, anyway.”
“So, it can be your best, but not mine? Why not?”
“Because I’m guessing that Corbin James has had a lot of great days. Signing a record contract. Winning a Grammy. Those are epic moments.”
“Maybe you’re just that fantastic of a kisser.”
She grinned and raised her head, kissing him softly.
“Hmm. Maybe I am.”
They laughed, and he rolled her over, letting his body hover above hers as he gazed down into her soft green eyes. Corbin was careful not to press against her. He just wasn’t sure he could resist that much temptation.
Jolie smiled up at him and brushed his hair out of his eyes. “How long have you wanted to kiss me?”
“Since the moment we met.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I’m a mess.”
“I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”
He sighed heavily.
“I’m a recovering addict, Jolie.”
“But you’re doing great. Aren’t you?”
“I am. But it’s only been two months since I completed rehab. I could fall off the wagon, so easily. I have a lot to prove. I’ve hurt a lot of people.”
“You’ve never hurt me.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t.”
Corbin knew it sounded harsh, but she had to know. She had to understand that he might be okay now, but it could all fall apart, no matter how hard he tried to keep it together.
“I’ve always relapsed, Jolie. Always.”
Her eyes softened as she trailed her hand against his cheek.
“But the temptations of the road are gone.”
“Temptations are everywhere. They’re just easier to fight when I’m home and surrounded by people who care about me.”
“Is that why you’ve stayed in town?”
He nodded. “Riverview is peaceful and just about as far away from the city as you can get. Plus, I want to try to repair my relationship with my family. And maybe write a little. That way, when I’m ready, I’ll have some songs to show a publishing house.”
“You don’t think you’ll sing anymore?”
Corbin shook his head. “I have the heart of a songwriter. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Singing was just a way to get my music out there. Then I won that stupid reality TV show and my career just exploded.”
“A shooting star in the music world, I think the headlines said.”
“A shooting star that burned out very, very quickly.”
She gazed up at him. “Will you tell me about your time on the road?”
Corbin’s first instinct was to say no. The words were nearly out of his mouth, but then he saw the quiet hope in her eyes.
“I really like you, Jolie.”
“I really like you, too.”
“You won’t like me if you hear those stories.”
“That’s not true. I want to know you, Corbin. Every part of you. Even the ugly parts.”
“There are plenty of ugly parts.”
“But that’s your past. Everyone has a past.”
“Not like mine.”
She lifted herself off the ground and rolled over on top of him. His hands gripped her waist in a futile attempt to hold her still. Didn’t she know she was playing with fire, pressing her body against his like that? Didn’t she realize he was trying to behave himself?
“Your past is the past,” she said. “All I care about is your present and your future.”
He smiled into her warm, trusting eyes and held her tight against him.
“I must say, the present’s pretty amazing.”
“And your future is just as bright, Corbin James. So bright.”
He couldn’t deny that, for the first time in a long time, he felt hopeful about the future. It was a foreign feeling, and one he’d never expected to feel again.
But he felt it.
And he felt her.
Jolie’s warm body pressed into his as she kissed him, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to slide his hands under her blouse or reach for the button of her jeans. The old Corbin would already have her naked and begging beneath him. But this was the new Corbin James, and as they kissed under the moonlight, he couldn’t help but think his dad may be right.
Jolie Daniels might be a very good reason to stay.
The next morning, Corbin was just getting out of the shower when he heard his cell vibrate on the nightstand. He tossed his wet towel in the hamper and reached for his phone.
“Hello?”
“Corbin James?”
“Speaking. Who’s this?”
“My name’s Ashton Rhodes. I’m an A&R rep from Callum Records.”
“Never heard of them. Or you.”
Ashton laughed. “They said you’d be difficult. That’s good. I like a challenge. You’re taking a break from music, I understand?”
“You might say that.”
“Ready to get back to work?”
“Who wants to know? And how did you get this number?”
“I’m resourceful. It’s a talent you’ll appreciate when you sign with us.”
Corbin narrowed his eyes and sat down on the edge of his bed.
“Who is this?”
“I’m Ashton Rhodes with Callum Rec—”
“Why are you calling?”
“How was rehab?”
“It sucked.”
“But you completed it?”
“I did.”
“Excellent. And are you writing?”
He nervously ran his fingers through his damp hair. “Yeah, I’m writing.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m sure your royalty checks have finally dried up, am I right?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
“Ms. Rhodes, I don’t know who you are or why you’re calling me—”
“I’d love to discuss that with you in person. I understand you’re staying with your folks in Riverview?”
How this woman knew so much about him was starting to give him the creeps.
“Look, Ms. Rhodes—”
“Ashton, please.”
“Ashton, I don’t know how you got my number or my address, but let me save you a trip. I’m not interested.”
“How do you know you’re not interested?”
“Because I’m not interested in anything that requires me to sign a contract with a record label.”
“I have an offer for you, Corbin.”
“Not interested.”
“You might be. I’m in town. Let me buy you breakfast.”
She’s in town?
“Just talk to me. If you’re really not interested, I’ll delete your number from my phone, and all you’ve lost is a few minutes of your morning. How’s breakfast at the diner?”
“It’s artery clogging.”
“Sounds delicious.”
Corbin tiredly rubbed his face. “I have to be at work by nine.”
“That gives me two hours to work my magic.”
“It’ll take you a lot longer than that.”
“If I can’t convince you in two hours, then it’s not meant to be.”
“You’re wasting your time.”
“Meet you at the diner in thirty minutes.”
Before he could even argue, the line went dead.
“It’s a generous offer, Corbin.”
“So you’ve said. Six times.”
Ashton grinned and finished her juice.
Corbin had to admit he was impressed. Ashton Rhodes was tough as nails, with long black hair that hung in crazy waves down her shoulders. She’d been easy to spot in her crisp white suit and killer high heels. In this blue-collar diner, she couldn’t have looked more out of place. But that didn’t seem to faze her. She’d ordered the special and devoured her pancakes while detailing every line of the contract that Corbin now held in his hands.
Callum Records wanted to offer him a recording contract.
What he still failed to understand was why.
“It’s a generous offer, Corbin.”
“And that makes seven.”
“I’ll say it a hundred times if it means you’ll sign.”
He leaned back in the booth and studied her face. “Do you know how many generous offers I’ve signed in the past five years?”
“Three. I know all about them.”
“So what makes this one different?”
“Because this isn’t Gallagher Records. And I’m not Vanessa Gallagher.”
Just the sound of her name felt like a dagger to his stomach.
Ashton leaned in and lowered her voice. “I know how your first album won a Grammy and you were the hottest thing in music until the label dropped you. I know how your second label stole the publishing rights to your debut album and then forced you to record other people’s songs, and I know how Vanessa Gallagher introduced you to a cocaine habit that sent you to rehab. When you were no longer fun to be around, Vanessa dumped you. This sent you back to rehab, but this time, booze was your poison because coke was too expensive. And I know that your agent kept you as a client until the royalty checks ran out, which happened about a month ago. How am I doing?”
Corbin gazed at the woman in stunned silence while the waitress refilled their coffee mugs.
“You’ve certainly done your homework,” Corbin muttered once they were alone again.
“I have. And I know you have zero reason to trust me. I’m well aware I have my work cut out for me.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because your songwriting was always spectacular. Have you listened to the radio lately? If I hear one more song about pickup trucks or drinking beer or—”
“I got it.”
Ashton sighed heavily. “I’m bored, Corbin. So unbelievably bored. When I heard you were out of rehab and hiding in your hometown, I thought I’d give you some time to get bored, too. Bored enough that you’d consider my offer. And it’s a good one.”
“That’s eight.”
She grinned. “Music lovers are tired of the punishing beats of hip-hop and all the cookie-cutter country. Acoustic, indie music is all the rage. Your songs will be perfect.”
“How do you know? You haven’t heard any of my new music.”
“An issue we could rectify immediately. I know songwriters. I bet you have your guitar in the backseat of your car. Never leave home without it.”
True.
Corbin took a long sip of his coffee.
Ashton smirked.
“I don’t know, Ashton. I really didn’t plan on singing anymore. Songwriting, maybe, but not touring. I don’t trust myself out on the road. Besides, I’m happy here.”
“You’re happy working part-time at a bookstore? Really?”
Corbin nodded. Of course, he didn’t explain why he loved the bookstore so much.
“If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. All I’m asking you to do is consider it.”
Ashton asked for the check while Corbin read over the contract. It was a lot of legal mumbo jumbo, and most of it he didn’t understand, but he understood the dollar amounts mentioned. And he understood that he would retain the rights to his music. Ashton must’ve known that would be important to him—far more than the money—and she was right.
But it wasn’t enough.
He was just getting into a routine in Riverview. No, he wasn’t making a lot of money, but if he’d learned one thing in the past five years, there’s far more to life than the balance of your bank account. Corbin spent his days surrounded by his family, and when he wasn’t with them, he was at the bookstore with Jolie.
For the first time in his life, he was content.
And, for the first time in years, he was clean and sober.
No amount of money could be better than that.
“Ashton, I appreciate you coming all this way. And you’re right. The offer is more than generous.”
She sighed. “I hear a but . . .”
“But I’m not interested.”
Ashton nodded. “I knew it’d be a hard sell, but I wanted to try. I’m a fan of good musicians, and you’re one of them.”
“I appreciate it. Truly.”
Ashton stood to go, and Corbin watched as she laid a fifty-dollar bill on the table.
Impressive. Their waitress’s day was about to become infinitely better.
“Keep the contract. Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll want to look at it again someday. I meant what I said, Corbin. You’re far too talented to work in a bookstore the rest of your life.”
She placed a business card next to his mug, and he thanked her again before she headed to her car.