Page 12 of The Lyrics of Love

“There’s an old song by Jackson Brown. A mashup of The Load-out and Stay, which pretty much sums it up.”

When she looked at him blankly, he said, “I’ll play it for you sometime. The actual concerts themselves are a natural high. I’m a performer at heart. I started playing honky-tonks and clubs when I was barely fourteen. Quit school at sixteen because I hated every minute of it. Just before I left, they finally figured out what was wrong with me. I’m dyslexic. I’ve learned how to cope with it on my own, though, and have come to terms with it. But school wasn’t for me. My schooling has been the School of Life.”

“Tell me more about touring,” she encouraged.

“As I said, performing is in my blood, so when I’m on stage, I feed off the energy in the crowd. The two hours I’m up there playing are always the best hours of any day on tour.”

He shrugged. “The rest of the time is a mixed bag. When the tour is a slower-paced one and spread out more, I use a custom tour bus. It’s pretty tricked out. It’s easy to bond on the bus. I watch movies and binge Netflix series with the guys in the band. Sometimes, I’ll write new music. We talk. A lot. About everything. There’s not a lot I don’t know about Billy, Dart, and Wills.”

Nash took a sip of his water and said, “It gets lonely, though. This last tour was pretty much a new hotel room every night. Going back to the hotel after a show and being jittery and excited, but having no one to share it with.”

“Did your wife ever go on tour with you?” Rylie asked quietly.

“We weren’t married that long,” he told her. “Just two months before my last tour began. When it started, Luna was on board for the first couple of weeks. Then since she’s an actress, she flew back to L.A. for some auditions. She landed a supporting role in a big Netflix series and wound up staying there to shoot it.”

“Did she fly out to see you on weekends? Or did you have a break during the tour so you could go home?”

“No breaks. It was a tight schedule. We hit as many cities as we could in that year. Luna and I were living separate lives, and my days were her nights and vice-versa. I realize now we were a poor fit from the beginning. We rushed into marriage without giving it much thought and didn’t really know each other or have anything in common.”

“Then you learned a good life lesson,” Rylie said gently. “Sometimes those life lessons can hurt. A lot. You’ll know better—and do better—next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” he said flatly. “I don’t ever plan on getting married again.”

Rylie became very still as she took in his words. “I see. Well, I’m happy to offer you friendship during your short stay in the Cove.” She dabbed her mouth with her napkin and set it on the table. “Can I help you clean up?”

He realized his abrupt words had surprised her. That she had designs on him. That she was like all the rest, wanting a piece of him for the wrong reasons.

Nash rose. “I’ll handle the leftovers,” he said brusquely. “If you don’t mind loading the dishwasher, I’ll leave that up to you.”

They cleaned up in silence, and then Rylie washed and dried her hands. “I guess I’ll be off. I’m glad you’ve come to the Cove, Nash. I hope your songwriting goes smoothly.”

She hurried into the other room and claimed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder. He rushed after her, his fingers clasping her elbow.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded, surprised by the hurt he felt with her wanting to walk out so quickly. “Stay a while and talk. I’m sorry if I said something wrong,” hoping he had misinterpreted her reaction. “I’m out of practice being around people. When I caught Luna with my manager and heard the cruel things she said to him about me, I went off the deep end for about six months, guzzling bourbon straight out of the bottle. Multiple bottles every day. My arrest for the DUI finally made me realize that I needed to get my shit together. That I was letting someone I hadn’t even loved make my life miserable.”

Her eyes widened. “You didn’t love your wife? Why did you even marry her?”

Ashamed, he said, “Because she wanted it. And I was thinking with my dick and not my head. I know now she only used me, wanting to marry me because of the doors I could open for her. I had actually figured that out while on tour and was going to ask her for a divorce the night I arrived home. The night I caught her with my manager.

“But I would like to get to know you better, Rylie.”

“Does getting to know me better mean you’ll want to kiss me?” she demanded, fire lighting her eyes.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you,” he said bluntly. “I’ve come to realize you’re more than your looks, though. You’re a decent person—and I could use one of those as a friend. I’ve burned a lot of bridges in the past. Other than Billy, I know no one here. Besides, we didn’t even eat the dessert your cousin made. Have a seat on the sofa. Let me bring dessert in, and we can talk a while.”

Her gaze met his. “I’m willing to offer you friendship, Nash. But kissing—and anything beyond that—is off the table. I want to be up front about that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m closing in on thirty, and I would like to find someone to be a true partner to me. To not only be my lover—but my best friend. My person. I want to have kids and raise them here in the Cove. I don’t want you to think that I’m someone who wants to sink my hooks into you. I just need to be honest and let you know nothing romantic is going to happen between us. You’ve already told me you’re not interested in marriage, while I am. Well, I’m not interested in casual sex.”

“Okay,” he reluctantly agreed, not wanting her to leave. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

Nash returned to the kitchen and opened the box from Buttercup Bakery. A delicious assortment greeted him. He left the two cupcakes inside the box and pulled something out and put it on a plate, cutting it in half, then doing the same with the éclair before closing the box. Grabbing forks and napkins, he brought in dessert and was struck by Rylie’s quiet beauty as he studied her profile a moment.

His gut told him that he’d made a mistake announcing to her he would never get married again. That it had ruined any kind of chance he had with this woman. Then he reminded himself that he wasn’t the kind to truly settle down. He didn’t want to stay in one place for too long unless it was his farm in Nashville. He couldn’t give a decent woman like Rylie Robinson what she said she was looking for. A permanent home with a husband who would give her children. He was so messed up from his pitiful childhood. A drunken father. A mother who abandoned him. Nash needed to stay away from parenting because he would be a lousy father.

He handed her a plate with pastries. “I recognized the chocolate éclair, but I have no idea what this other thing was.”

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