Page 37 of Holding The Reins

“She came from Louisville,” Nash says.

“What a welcome home for you,” she says to me, nudging my shoulder.

I look at her with confusion. “For me?” I ask.

Nash clears his throat and asks, “Can I get a green protein smoothie with mine Sandy?”

“Sure thing, hun.” She winks and heads off.

I eye Nash and he avoids me for as long as he can.

“What?” he asks.

“What did she mean for me?”

“I don’t know; everyone knows you like Shania.” He shrugs.

“How often do you have cover musicians in?”

He looks at me, bullshit in his brilliant blue eyes. “From time to time.”

“How long have you had her booked for?”

“A while,” he retorts.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were championing my Monday hangover by bringing my close to favorite country singer into your bar on cheap drink night.”

Nash chuckles and leans back in his seat, relaxing his legs, turning his Stars baseball hat backwards, little tendrils of his wavy dark hair poke out from under it. He steals my breath as he folds his arms over his chest and stares right through me. I decide looking at him is more fun that giving him a hard time for the time being.

“Yeah, that’s it, you got me. Hungover CeCe is such a joy that I brought Shania Twin into the pub just to experience this delightful treat this morning.”

I laugh and throw my napkin at him as a young waitress I’ve never seen comes out with our drinks. She places my orange juice in front of me without a second glance, and gives Nash an award winning smile as she offers him his smoothie.

“Your breakfast is coming right up, Mr. Carter,” she says, and turns right in front of him offering him a perfect view of her very toned behind. Surprisingly, he’s a perfect gentleman and doesn’t even look. Even I looked, her ass is that perfect.

I scoff as she saunters away.

“Does that happen to you all the time?” I ask.

Nash looks at me as he takes the straw between his plush lips.

I wish I was the straw.

“What?”

“Women—they throw themselves at you,” I say, and then add, “Mr. Carter,” mimicking her sultry voice.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He feigns innocence as he shifts in his seat.

“She might even be younger than me,” I observe, then instantly regret saying anything as I take in Nash’s smirk across from me.

“First off, Rae, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound a little annoyed, even jealous maybe.”

“Ha.” I make the most embarrassing sounding laugh—it’s a cackle really which makes it obvious that he’s right. Nash grins at me.

“Two, you’re one to talk, it’s become my full-time job on Sunday nights to relieve you of the drunken men in my bar as they work up the nerve to hit on you. And don’t even get me started on Kevin.”

“Oh, please.” I giggle at his ridiculous description. “Kevin is just friendly.”

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