Page 50 of The Lyrics of Love

He grinned. “If I play my cards right, maybe I can bring some of them home. Want to have dinner tonight with me? With or without the enchiladas?”

“It’s a date.” Rylie placed her hands on his shoulders and stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against his.

He placed his guitar in its case again, quickly dressed, and she walked him to the door. He kissed her once more, knowing once would never be enough.

“See you tonight. Now, go sell a bunch of Queen Anne furniture.”

Rylie laughed as Nash went down the porch steps. She remained in the doorway and waved goodbye to him as he started his truck and pulled away from the curb.

As Nash drove back to his house, a deep satisfaction filled him. He believed he and Rylie were on the same page, hopefully moving to an end goal of being together. Yes, it should have been too soon, but his heart told another story.

“That’s it!” he shouted, driving down the road.

Nash went home and wrote My Heart Tells Another Story.

CHAPTER 17

Nash hurried to his truck, not wanting to be late for his cooking lesson with Carter Clark. He’d gotten so wrapped up in his songwriting that he had lost track of time. Fortunately, the lyrics had spilled from him faster than any song he had ever written. A melody which had been playing in his head was a perfect match for them. He had gotten down three verses, a chorus, and the bridge, using his phone to tape himself. Listening back to the completed version, he had made a few tweaks and recorded it again with those changes, pleased with what he heard.

He sent the video of the song to Billy, asking his opinion about it. He also sent it to Chuck Cooper, seeking his input. Since Chuck was now his manager, he valued Chuck’s ideas.

It surprised him that he’d written three songs in less than a week. While he considered himself a fairly fast writer, most of the time he knew it was one in thirty or forty songs that might produce a hit. The three songs he’d written since arriving in Maple Cove could easily be hits heard on the radio. If he had placed twelve songs on a CD, anyone who knew music would have selected these three as the picks of the litter.

And he knew it was all because of Rylie.

She had become more than a muse to him. She had become his everything. A part of him did worry that he was moving too fast and his heart would once again be trampled. Then again, Rylie was no Luna. She had no agenda. She genuinely liked him for himself. Nash believed if he were a truck driver or accountant, Rylie would still respond to him the same way.

Signaling, he turned into the Clarks’ driveway and drove down its length until he reached the house. The outside looked clean and neat, the style classic. Inside, Nash could tell numerous updates had occurred. If things worked out with Rylie and he decided to buy a place in the Cove, he would ask Carter who had done their remodeling. Nash knew he would want not only a house but land to go with it. On that land, he would build a recording studio. With Billy already in the area, it would mean Wills and Dart would have to fly out to the West Coast to record albums, but he didn’t think that would be a problem. Occasionally, he had thought about putting a studio on his Tennessee farm, but with Nashville only a few miles down the road, he liked driving in and cutting his records and then leaving, having home remain a sanctuary.

Yet he could see spending a good portion of his year in the Cove with Rylie. Making music here. Building a life.

He shook his head, clearing those thoughts as he got out of his truck and went to knock on the door.

Tenley greeted him. “Hey, Nash. Come on in. Right on time.”

“I don’t know if I should be speaking to you after you and the girls drubbed us last night.”

She laughed. “Women are known for having more vocabulary. I think research says we speak something like a hundred words to every ten men use. So, yes—we skunked you at Password. Carter is in the kitchen. He’s really excited about cooking with you.”

“I don’t know if cooking with is the right word. That makes us sound as if we’re equals.”

He followed her and spotted Carter sitting on a barstool at the island.

“Hey.” Nash offered his hand and they shook.

“I’m really glad you wanted to do this,” Carter said. “I hope you don’t mind, but Tenley shoots a lot of my videos. Sometimes, I have a couple of kids from the local high school come in and help out when she’s busy writing, but I was hoping you’d feel comfortable if it were her filming us today. Have a seat. Let’s talk over what we’re going to do. I don’t want to script anything, especially our conversation to each other, but I do want to give you an idea of how we’ll roll.”

He nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

Carter explained how all supplies needed were laid out in groups, including the kitchenware he would use.

“That way it makes it easier to move from one step to the next.”

Nash nodded. “I’m familiar with your vlog. It looks a little different being on this side of things, but I’ll be fine. I’ll do anything that needs to be done. Chopping. Slicing. Stirring. What charities are you wanting to drum up interest for?”

“I think we’ll just focus on one this first time,” Carter said. “Then we’ll see if you’re up for another round. It’s Make-A-Wish America.”

“I can definitely get behind that,” he said. “Kids being ill seems so wrong.”

---