He wanted everything.

Pulling his phone from his pocket as he headed back to his truck, he called Eddie Kendall, one of his publicity managers.

“This is Eddie.”

“Hey, Eddie, it’s Everett.”

“Hey, boss. You outside? It sounds like you’re in a wind tunnel.”

“I’m standing in a thunderstorm,” he said, opening his truck door and climbing inside. “Better?”

“Yeah, I can hear ya. So what’s up? Did you get the new program stats?”

“Yeah, and they looked great, but listen. I’ve been thinking about that interview you’re doing Thursday on the Kat Country morning show. I don’t have anything going on and can take it, if you want.”

The line was dead quiet for a minute. “Um, okay. Sure, Everett, but . . . why? You never do interviews.”

Everett rubbed his cheek where Callie’s lips had been. “It’s personal.”

Chapter Five

TWO DAYS LATER, Everett walked into the Kat just before seven in the morning and smiled at the young man behind the desk.

“Everett Silverton. I’m here to talk about Stateside Support.”

“Oh, yeah,” the kid said, standing up with his hand out. “Pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m Dalton. Callie’s in the booth waiting for you.”

Everett shook Dalton’s hand and liked his grip. “Good to meet you too.” Something about the way the kid held himself made him add, “Have you served?”

“Not me, but my older brother and my father were both in the army. I would have joined, but my mom had a fit backward,” Dalton said. His ears turned red as he added, “Something about her baby not being a military man.”

“Something tells me you weren’t disappointed, though,” Everett said with a smile.

“To be honest, no. I believe in our military, but I’d rather not spend my life dodging bullets and bombs—” Dalton cut himself off suddenly, stammering, “I’m . . . I’m . . . sorry. I . . . I . . . didn’t . . . didn’t mean anything . . . ”

“What? You don’t want to look as pretty as me?” he asked. Dalton paled, and his skin took on a bluish sheen Everett didn’t like. “Hey, I was just kidding. Lighten up, and don’t worry about offending my delicate sensibilities. I’ve got a thick hide.”

Everett was used to people saying the wrong thing around him and then making things worse by rambling.

“Thanks, sir,” Dalton said, taking a deep breath. “I’ll take you back.”

Everett followed, his heart beating faster the closer he got to seeing Callie. He rarely did publicity for the organization, usually leaving it to Pam or Eddie, who handled their social media and fund-raisers, but the chance of sitting in a small room with just her had been too good to pass up.

Besides, if he was going to really go for it with Callie, he needed to be completely honest. Which meant telling her that he’d figured out who she was when they first met. And that he was Rhett.

Would she freak out? He hoped not. She had enough of an emotional force field around her without dropping this bomb on her. He was hoping that once she realized who he was and that he was harmless, maybe she’d take a chance on getting to know him better.

And hopefully not think you’re a liar . . .

Dalton stopped outside a door with an ON AIR sign lit up above it. The minute the light went off, he knocked.

“Come on in,” Callie called.

Dalton opened the door and waved Everett inside.

“Your interview is here,” Dalton said, and Everett stepped into the room.

Callie’s eyes widened, and she looked down at her desk. Everett didn’t know if she was just surprised or horrified, but his heart sank.