Page 151 of Need You Now

Seth’s back. But what about her?

She thinks of Colin’s phone call, the offer she turned down, and is struck by a wave of regret. Only she shakes it off. Tucks it in the back of her mind. This is what she wants. Right?

At the ping of her phone—Alabama asking if she should pick up ice—Lacey puts on a brave face and turns back inside.

She’s got a party to host.

The music fades out with a slow, weltering warble, Luke letting out a wild hoot when Seth lays down his bow.

“Fuckin’ finally,” Seth says, shooting Jace a wide-eyed look.

Shellshocked. That’s what they all are. Their new producer, Devlon Block, is kicking their asses. They’ve been in the studio, playing live and recording all day, and all they’ve got done is two songs. It feels more like a music boot camp than having fun with the band. Devlon wants them to take their time, grow into their sound. Whatever the hell that means.

“Ain’t so bad,” Luke drawls, and Seth and Jace snort. Luke’s loving this. The torture that comes with making a new album. The turtle-like crawl and analysis of every song. Hell, at this point, their new album, Assembly, won’t be out until next Christmas.

The crack of a door. Bobby Mazon, their manager, pokes his head into the room. “Let’s break. We got lunch on the way.”

Groaning, Seth slips off his chair, stretching his legs. He grins, watching his brother check his phone.

“How’s Sal?”

Luke grunts. “Fine.”

“Still got a way to go.”

“Couple of months.”

“You nervous?” Seth grins. “I get the cool job. Gonna be an uncle.” The best damn uncle he can be. He already loves that kid, and Luke’s gonna be one hell of a father.

A goofy smile breaks out on Luke’s face. Seth smirks, ready to give him shit, when a low curse from Jace catches his attention.

“Hey, y’all,” Jace interjects, phone in his hand. “Don’t wanna interrupt, but ...” His hazel eyes land on Seth. “You see the Star?”

“Shit,” Luke swears. “What now?” His eyes are worried, his mind on Seth and that article. Only Seth’s calm. He and Luke and Sal have already talked about it. If it resurfaces, he’ll own it.

But the article’s not about Seth. It’s about Lacey.

A snap of her exiting the Bronco, her hair in a messy bun, her hand tangled up in Seth’s. The headline: Seth Kincaid: Bachelor No More? Why Is Our Country Grit Taking up With California Glitz?

Motherfuckers. Seth’s hands ball into fists.

The asshole headline deliberately meant to fuck with Seth. The Star saying they’re still pissed at Luke for killing their story and now it’s payback. He should know the drill with the tabloids by now, but Lacey being on the receiving end has his teeth clenching.

That’s the last thing she needs.

Jace, his eyes scanning the article, says, “Star don’t like it. She ain’t country enough.”

Luke snorts. “They said the same thing about Sal. Now look at them. They can’t get enough damn pictures.”

Seth bristles at the disgustingly obvious attempt to paint Lacey as unsuitable for Seth. “They don’t have to like it.”

Jace grins. “Tell ’em that on the red carpet.”

Seth gives a slight smile. “Damn straight.” And then some. He’ll laugh right in their faces and tell them to move right the fuck along.

The door opens, people bustling in, voices hushed as lunch is set up. A spread of food. BBQ. Potato salad. Cornbread. PBR.

“Speakin’ of Lacey, while we’re on the subject ...” Luke grins, arches a brow. “You two thinkin’ of livin’ at the farm or ...”

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