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At first, Mrs. N wanted to argue with me, but then when I explained how this was my vision, she agreed. She’d even hired a few more folks to help, and they were working out beautifully.
“I know, it’s just that…” I began.
“It’s just that it’s your first party in this house, and you’re worried. That’s normal,” she said, agreeing with me, but not knowing my heart.
“It’s worse than that. I didn’t want to admit it before, but it’s my first party ever.”
“Ever? Like in your entire life?”
“Yes. I never had the room to have a party in my place. My apartments have always been teeny-tiny spaces. When I was growing up, my mom never got around to giving me any real parties, so this is all new for me.”
I was so nervous I could barely breathe. I couldn’t admit that what scared me most was that no one would come. I mean, who was I to throw a party and expect people to drive in all the way from Cricket or even the local folks we’d recently met. Why would they show up? We hardly knew them, and besides, we were an oddity. Three men living with one woman in a committed relationship. That was fine for Cricket, but in Sweet Whiskey, was that even considered as a viable way to live?
My stomach had been in a knot for three days. Normally, I might’ve considered running from this event. A tactic everyone knew I’d used in the past, but I was way over that now. Ever since our first night performing at Dirty Coyote, when I’d run with Shea, I’d learned that running from anything only avoided the problem. It didn’t solve it.
I was into solutions now. Experiencing my fears and doing it anyway. That was my new motto, but damn if it wasn’t hard. Much easier to feel that inner resistance and walk away, take a hike or live small.
I’d liked living small. It was my comfort zone. Now, the bigger the better! I was even looking to add more land to the DL ranch, and growing our own grapes, for our own wine. Seemed like a natural progression, especially since the guys seemed to love the idea of us having our own wine label.
Plus, we were in the process of adding another guest house. Josh’s parents had come to visit, and Luke’s and even Rascal’s, but we only had one guest house that accommodated two or three people, so two sets of parents couldn’t come out at the same time. The new guest house would easily accommodate six people, with three master bedroom suites. This ranch was far to special not to be able to share it with family and close friends. Of course, the new guest house would have its own pool as well.
My mom had even come out a couple of times, but she didn’t stay long. Still, she’d come out, and that right there had been a step in the right direction for our estranged relationship.
Knowing that Mrs. N had everything under control, I dashed off to my room and ripped off my jeans and shirt when someone rapped. Rascal walked in looking amazing in a deep-red dress shirt, black dress pants, and shiny black cowboy boots. The man rocked my world every time I saw him.
“You look great, but I’m running late, and I have to get dressed,” I told him.
“Do you have to?” he said, walking over and nuzzling my neck with kisses, his big hand running over my breasts, sending instant heat down between my legs.
“As much as I would like more of this,” I stepped away from him. “I have to get dressed. Our guests will be here any minute, and I don’t even have any makeup on yet!”
“You don’t need any makeup or anything for what I have to tell you,” he said, grinning so wide, I had to jump in and lay a kiss on those fabulous lips of his.
When I pulled back, he said, “What was that for?”
“Looking so great and making me happy.”
I dashed into the bathroom then and slapped on some makeup. He followed me in. My bathroom was the size of the entire living room I had in Cricket, and I loved it. It even had an oversized soaking tub that I’d spent many happy moments in with one or two of my guys at a time. We’d tried all three but were afraid we’d end up with another pretzeled Rascal, so two was the limit.
“You’re not going to believe this,” he began. “But I just got off the phone with Marcia, and she wanted to tell me thatGuts and Glitteris… drum roll…”
Marcia was our publicist and doubled as our manager as well. She had four other people working for her, and even though we never signed with a record label, nor did we want to, she’d gotten our music on countless country radio stations across the country. Plus, because of her, we opened for Miranda Lambert for four of her concerts, which put our songGuts and Glitterinto the mainstream of country music. We’d written and recorded an entire CD a couple of months ago, and we were one of the top country bands on several of the streaming services.
She was a miracle worker, so whenever Marcia called, I knew something big was about to happen.
I turned to him, with one eye rimmed in eyeliner, and the other one bare. “Oh my God… What? What did she want to tell you?”
“Guts and Glitteris the number one country song in America right now.”
I couldn’t help but squeal my excitement and throw myself on him.
“Oh my God! How is that even possible?”
“Get a grip because that’s not even the best news.”
“There’s more? How could that not be the best news?”
“Because the nominations for this year’s CMA awards were announced today!” he said, with even a wider grin. “And lil’ bit, hold onto your hat; you’re going to explode!”
