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“You’re welcome. I mean every word. And the more you sing, the more comfortable you’ll get.”
“Yeah, I suppose I should put myself out there again. Okay, so let’s say that I do this—how are you supposed to go telling everyone that we broke up and then go and sing on an album with me?”
Yikes. I didn’t think of that.
“A contract is a contract,” I say stupidly, knowing good and well that someone could get out of it if they wanted to, especially in that sort of scenario—a bad breakup. “We could also complete it before we stage the breakup. No one says we have to break up super soon.” I feel like I’m doing a sales pitch to her. But that’s because I really want her to work on the album with me.
It’s the perfect excuse to keep spending time with her. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll fall in love with me—she has to feel the chemistry between us. I mean, how can she not?
Except for the small fact that I specifically told her not to fall in love with me.
I’m such an idiot.
“Wouldn’t it be better if you collaborated with some major artist—like Carrie Underwood or something? I wouldn’t think it would be as beneficial if it were someone like me. Not to mention, I’ve still got a lot of writing to do.”
I furrow my brow, not sure how to take what she’s saying. “If you don’t want to, Callie, just tell me. I’m not going to be upset with you if it’s not something you’re genuinely interested in. It’d be wrong of me to force you to do anything,” I say, feeling a strange lump growing in my throat.
Wait, are my feelings getting hurt now that she doesn’t want to collaborate with me? How ridiculous.
“It’s not that I don’t want to...” her voice trails off, as she shifts uncomfortably in the chair across from me. “It’s not that at all. It’s just...”
“It’s just, what?” I ask, a glimmer of hope sparking in my chest that maybe she’s got feelings for me—and she’s worried about them growing.
Man, that’s selfish of me.
“Is it because of the book you’re working on? I probably shouldn’t be asking so much of you in the middle of you trying to work that out, huh? How’s that going? I should’ve asked you more about that. I’m excited to read whatever you have—if you’ll let me.” I’m rambling but she smiles, her eyes holding mine in a way that makes my heart flutter.
“I don’t think that writing the book would affect me helping you with your album—it’s not really about the time. It’s just that—”
“Wade!” a voice startles both of us, coming off from down the hill somewhere. “Wade!”
What the heck?
I spin around to see Sawyer and Hunter coming up the hill toward me, waving their hands like somehow that will get my attention. “What is it?” I call back to them before turning to give Callie an apologetic look. “Never any alone time, huh?”
She laughs softly, but it lacks humor. There’s something wrong—or maybe not, I don’t know. I don’t know how women work, but I really want to learn how Callie works, how she thinks, and what she’s feeling all the time.
“Dude, a bunch of the cattle have slipped out of the north pasture and got onto the Roden’s ranch— they’re gonna be pissed if we don’t get it under control,” Sawyer says, adjusting his Stetson.
“Great,” I say with a sigh, already knowing where the conversation is going. “What do you want me to do?”
“Saddle up, cowboy,” Hunter says, shooting me a smirk that makes Callie laugh. “We need the extra hand, honestly, and it’s urgent—none of our other ranch hands can be here as fast as you—ya know, cause you’re right here.”
I raise my eyebrow. “And where’s Carson?”
“He’s showing a horse to a client. He’ll catch up with us after,” Sawyer explains.
I let out a sigh, turning to Callie. “I’ll be back—will you take this inside for me?” I stand to my feet and hold out my guitar. She nods, taking it from my hands. “This conversation isn’t over, by the way,” I add. “We’re going to figure this out with your book and my album.”
“Of course.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and stands to her feet as she holds my guitar by the neck. “I’ll see you when you get back from your ranching escapade.”
Without even thinking, I lean forward and place a kiss at the top of her head. She lets out a sigh, her hand patting my chest in a loving way. Butterflies erupt in my stomach and if it weren’t for two of my brothers standing here, I’d be pulling her right in.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” I force out instead, my voice coming out husky with the emotions that are overwhelming me. “You don’t have to wait up for me, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Of course,” she says softly. “I’ll see you then.”
“Okay,” I say, staying close to her.
