snatched her hand from his, angry because he’d stirred up feelings and memories she didn’t want. “Why are you here? To gloat? I’m not sorry about homecoming, Jarred. Not one bit!”
“Not asking you to be sorry about it.” He offered a conciliatory smile. “That was all on me and I deserved it. But that was then. This is now. New day. Fresh start.”
Her gaze tracked the arrow tips down his neck that disappeared under the collar of his shirt and reemerged from under the sleeve. Easier than looking into his eyes. “How’d you find me?”
“Stopped by the trailer last night and your mom told me. Drove here and parked down the street last night.” He gestured with his head and she spied his Mustang sitting along the curb.
“Last night?”
“Slept in the backseat. I cleaned up at a gas station around six this morning and waited for the house to clear so we could talk.”
She remembered the last time she’d looked into the Mustang’s backseat. Feeling angry all over again, she pushed against the rising tide. “So what did my ‘mommy’ have to say?” She could only imagine how LaDonna must have dissed her to him.
“She was drinking, so I got an earful.” He waved his hand to blow off whatever LaDonna had told him. “But she kept saying she’s looking forward to you moving back with the baby when it’s born. That true?”
“I’m not.”
“You married to this Dawson?” She shook her head. “Planning to?”
“Don’t know.” She lifted her chin. “He
wants
to marry me.” Jarred went quiet. A butterfly settled on a bush next to the porch railing. A bird chirped. Heat built. Sloan fingered the hem of the oversized tee she wore. “So why did you come and sleep all night in your car just so you can talk to me alone?”
Jarred leaned forward. The wicker creaked. “I’m putting the band back together. Bobby and Hal are on board. Calder’s headed off to college, but that’s all right. I have a new keyboard man in Nashville named Josiah. He’s older and he’s good, better than Calder. His dad’s some big-deal hedge fund guru and richer than God. They have an estate
and
Sy has a recording studio on-site. Very sweet…you wouldn’t believe the equipment.” Jarred’s eyes shone as he described the state-of-the-art sound-mixing boards, amps, mikes, and top-of-the-line everything. “But Sy’s parents don’t live there. They’ve got a place in New York, so Sy’s got the Nashville house to himself. Been living there myself for three months.”
She closed her eyes, pictured the former band, felt tears behind her eyelids. “Sounds like you landed on your feet with this Josiah.”
Jarred planted a hand on her knee, and warmth seeped through her skin. “Look, we won’t be some cobbled-together garage bangers. We’ll have a new sound, a new look. We have a place to live and one hundred percent access to Sy’s studio. We’ll pull our music together, cut a demo, shop it around. I’m talking a business deal between us, nothing more.” He made a circle in the air. “This will be my band, but we’ll all be partners. This is legit, Sloan. I want this music thing real bad.”
Me too.
“So you’re starting over. I’m happy for you.”
He rested his arms on the chair and leaned back, studying her. “When I first got to Nashville, I worked my ass off, barely scraped by at first. Slept in my car for a while. Lots of odd jobs and a fill-in as a session artist for other bands. That’s how I met Sy. We clicked artistically.”
“And the drugs?”
He waved his hand as if shooing a fly. “Nothing, I swear. Sy doesn’t touch the stuff, so neither do I. Music business comes first. Always.”
“And what do you want from me?”
“I want you to sign on, Sloan. You’re the best singer I’ve ever heard. We were good together…the writing, the way we were on the same wavelength.” He didn’t mention everything else they once had together, but she couldn’t forget it. Jarred
“Not asking you to be sorry about it.” He offered a conciliatory smile. “That was all on me and I deserved it. But that was then. This is now. New day. Fresh start.”
Her gaze tracked the arrow tips down his neck that disappeared under the collar of his shirt and reemerged from under the sleeve. Easier than looking into his eyes. “How’d you find me?”
“Stopped by the trailer last night and your mom told me. Drove here and parked down the street last night.” He gestured with his head and she spied his Mustang sitting along the curb.
“Last night?”
“Slept in the backseat. I cleaned up at a gas station around six this morning and waited for the house to clear so we could talk.”
She remembered the last time she’d looked into the Mustang’s backseat. Feeling angry all over again, she pushed against the rising tide. “So what did my ‘mommy’ have to say?” She could only imagine how LaDonna must have dissed her to him.
“She was drinking, so I got an earful.” He waved his hand to blow off whatever LaDonna had told him. “But she kept saying she’s looking forward to you moving back with the baby when it’s born. That true?”
“I’m not.”
“You married to this Dawson?” She shook her head. “Planning to?”
“Don’t know.” She lifted her chin. “He
wants
to marry me.” Jarred went quiet. A butterfly settled on a bush next to the porch railing. A bird chirped. Heat built. Sloan fingered the hem of the oversized tee she wore. “So why did you come and sleep all night in your car just so you can talk to me alone?”
Jarred leaned forward. The wicker creaked. “I’m putting the band back together. Bobby and Hal are on board. Calder’s headed off to college, but that’s all right. I have a new keyboard man in Nashville named Josiah. He’s older and he’s good, better than Calder. His dad’s some big-deal hedge fund guru and richer than God. They have an estate
and
Sy has a recording studio on-site. Very sweet…you wouldn’t believe the equipment.” Jarred’s eyes shone as he described the state-of-the-art sound-mixing boards, amps, mikes, and top-of-the-line everything. “But Sy’s parents don’t live there. They’ve got a place in New York, so Sy’s got the Nashville house to himself. Been living there myself for three months.”
She closed her eyes, pictured the former band, felt tears behind her eyelids. “Sounds like you landed on your feet with this Josiah.”
Jarred planted a hand on her knee, and warmth seeped through her skin. “Look, we won’t be some cobbled-together garage bangers. We’ll have a new sound, a new look. We have a place to live and one hundred percent access to Sy’s studio. We’ll pull our music together, cut a demo, shop it around. I’m talking a business deal between us, nothing more.” He made a circle in the air. “This will be my band, but we’ll all be partners. This is legit, Sloan. I want this music thing real bad.”
Me too.
“So you’re starting over. I’m happy for you.”
He rested his arms on the chair and leaned back, studying her. “When I first got to Nashville, I worked my ass off, barely scraped by at first. Slept in my car for a while. Lots of odd jobs and a fill-in as a session artist for other bands. That’s how I met Sy. We clicked artistically.”
“And the drugs?”
He waved his hand as if shooing a fly. “Nothing, I swear. Sy doesn’t touch the stuff, so neither do I. Music business comes first. Always.”
“And what do you want from me?”
“I want you to sign on, Sloan. You’re the best singer I’ve ever heard. We were good together…the writing, the way we were on the same wavelength.” He didn’t mention everything else they once had together, but she couldn’t forget it. Jarred
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