Page 23 of Major Love

Andherehe’s wearing cowboy boots because he’s anactualcowboy.

I return the small smile and then drop my attention back to my cell, opening up the search engine and finally beginning to type.

Sunday Wells. Riley Dutton.

And then I click enter.

I nibble gently on my lower lip as I scroll through the headlines.

One hour ago.

Two hours ago.

Eight hours ago.

I press my fingers against my forehead before pulling my hat back down over my eyes, willing myself to breathe calmly as I face the fact that the press’s interest hasn’t died down at all.

If anything the story is getting bigger, which is probably to do with the fact that Riley’s new album is about to be released.

I pinch one of the photos beside a headline and my jaw drops open as I zoom in, because is that anewphoto of me sitting in the private booth back at Cash’s Bar with Riley and his team?!

How the hell did theObservereven get a hold of these images?

And I can totally see how they’re managing to paint the idea that he and I had a secret relationship, but the reality of this photo is that we’d just written up a contract – something that was mutually beneficial for my bar and for Riley’s status. We were having a quiet celebration before him and his team left Nashville to go on the road, but there was sure as hell nothing romantic going on.

Even my body language in the photo screamswe’re just friendsfor crying out loud! My right leg is literally crossedawayfrom his – although, now that I’m looking at it, Riley’s arm is draped along the back of the booth, and it could kind of look as though he was trying to put it around me.

But even that’s a stretch.

I toss my phone on the passenger seat and pick up my hot cocoa, frowning out of the windshield as I try to tamper down my irritation.

I didn’t move to Nashville so that I could become a country star – I moved to Nashville so that I could save the bar that my mom and step-dad fell in love in.

It was my way of honouring the life that Cash gave us, for showing Casey and I what a family feels like, even if it was taken away from us all too soon.

I sure as hell didn’t move to Nashville so that I could suddenly become famous. I mean, if I’d wanted that I would have gone to LA.

I shoot a wary glance over to my cell and slowly pick it up again.

And after another minute of scrolling I close the tabs and clear the past hour’s search history, holding my phone against my chest as I stare up at the roof of the truck.

Everyone in Nashville thinks that I’m Riley Dutton’s ‘secret girlfriend’. Riley Dutton, who has over seven million fans and a sold-out tour for an album that hasn’t even been released yet.

I breathe out a shaky exhale and make a tiny prayer that I don’t now have seven million enemies.

I take a few moments to let my adrenaline settle, coming to terms with the fact that there’s no way I’ll be going back to Nashville anytime soon. Even with the job offer that’s still sitting untouched in my emails, I don’t need to make any big decisions yet.

Plus, it’s the perfect opportunity to help Casey before he returns home.

I glance back down at my phone and my mind circles back to this morning, the thought of Jason’s six-foot-four frame standing over mine in the cabin.

I would love to see him again, but there’s a whole host of things that I need to clear up before I do.

And if I do take him up on his offer… what exactlywashe offering?

To hang out as friends? To save me from having my ass handed to me in the mountains?

Or to finally make the move that we both always wanted?

---