Page 6 of Hope and Country

RILEY

Back at the bar in my damp suit, I searched for the woman in the red dress.

My eyes traveled around the place. But no Devon.

Maybe she went to meet with her friend.

I closed my eyes and racked my brain. Devon told me she’d get us more drinks. My eyes drifted to the bar. I sidestepped to get a better view. No sign of her there either.

Perhaps she had to use the ladies’ room. I was in no rush. There was nowhere I’d rather be, so I’d wait for her to return.

Aisha Jones waved at me from a distance and mouthed “I’ll call you tomorrow” my way. I gave her a thumbs-up, and a large smile broke free on her face. The kid was doing great. She was the latest artist I’d signed under my management, and I knew from the start that both of us would do incredible things together. The girl had been in the music industry since she was a kid and was fearless. She possessed a rare talent.

Call it a big brother’s instinct, but I wanted to watch over her now that she’d embarked on a solo career. And take her to the top.

We broke eye contact as Carter neared me and swung an arm across my shoulder. From his six-foot-five height, he towered over me by half a foot. “Hey man,” he said, sliding another tumbler of whiskey into my hand.

With a nod, I raised it to thank him.

“I thought your woman would be here tonight?” I asked, tipping an eyebrow.

Carter’s eyes filled with tenderness. And love. They always did every time someone mentioned his wife, the woman who’d vacationed in the cabin next to his one winter and broke the walls around his icy heart, replacing it with warmth. “She wanted to come but is in bed with a bad case of flu.” He took a sip of his water—Carter Hills drank no alcohol. Never. “Who was the woman in the red dress you were talking to earlier? She had sparks in her eyes when she looked at you. And so did you. Even from where I was standing, I could tell. And you’re a difficult man to impress, Riley Burns. I know that from spending years by your side on and off tour. So, tell me, are you two together?”

“Her name’s Devon. Nah, I just met her. She’s sweet and gorgeous. She has a little something I can’t resist. But I don’t think she knows it.” I scanned all around us, trying to spot her in the crowd. No sign of her. Did she leave? No. Impossible. We hit it off. Easy conversation. Lots of smiles and eye contact. Yeah, she’d be back.

Carter emptied his glass in one gulp. “I need to go. I told my wife I’d make it home before midnight. She’s probably asleep by now, but I want to be with her anyway.”

“Are you staying at your penthouse or driving back to the mountains tonight?”

“Penthouse. We’ll drive back to Green Mountain tomorrow.” Carter clapped my shoulder. “And by the way, nice suit. If you’re trying to start a new fashion trend, you might be onto something. Riley’s Custom Undershirts. Yeah, that could work. If you decide to go through with it, I’ll even offer my services as a model. Or an investor. I have faith in you, man. Always.”

I wrinkled my nose and nudged him in the ribs. “Laugh all you want, Country Man,” I mocked his back as he walked away, shoulders shaking.

Yeah, so funny.

I lifted my glass to my lips and nodded at Thomas Barlow, a friend of my father, when a movement in red closing in on the elevator caught my eyes.

Devon.

I moved through the crowd. The density of it made it impossible to rush to her fast enough. The air in my lungs turned to ice. A prickly sensation tickled the nape of my neck. From across the room, my eyes took her in as she entered the elevator car, a man with broad shoulders and a dark crewcut manhandling her. Everything else around me vanished from my sight. Only Devon mattered. And her safety. I clenched my hands at my sides, feeling helpless as the jerk pushed her forward. A gasp left my mouth when she tripped on her heels. The man caught her before she could fall face first.

By her side, the man towered over her, his stare cold and threatening.

I bumped into more people as I hurried in their direction.

The man shoved her forward once more, and she turned around, our gazes colliding. Her face falling. My heart cracking.

Devon had lost her spark. Now she looked pale. But the fight hadn’t left her. Her gaze was a mix of resolve and fire. Whoever that man was, she was aware he was bad news but refused to give him the satisfaction to abide by his commands.

With a tilt of his head, the man lowered his mouth to her ear and said something that got her to shiver. The primal fear on her face killed my heart even at this distance. There was something so raw about it. But Devon schooled her features, her lips now pressed into a thin line to stop them from trembling, her back straight.

This wasn’t the first time. I could tell. She knew this game. All too well.

My pulse thumped in my ears. “Come on,” I said at no one, as I made my way to her.

Every hair on my back stood on end.

My breathing hitched. As if I’d just run ten miles at full speed.