Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“Knock ’em dead.” I mouth the words, remembering when my dad said the same to my mama before she went on stage at the Grand Ole Opry when I was ten.
Cash’s eyes widen before a calm smile turns up her lips, and she strums the first few notes of a slow tune. The music arrangement is soft and more romantic than I expected. And then my sparrow opens her mouth. The first few lyrics of her opening lines almost take my knees out from under me.
Your eyes met mine at sunrise.
Copper light reflecting through the pain.
You saw through the heart of me.
And for that, I’ll never be the same.
I can hardly focus on the rest of the words. The raw emotion and quiet pain weaving through the notes grab my heart in a fucking vise grip. I haven’t figured out how this woman has crawled inside me, but I’d willingly crawl inside her, too.
“This is some sappy shit,” Norm huffs, tipping his beer to his lips.
“I told you, you grouchy old fuck…” I snag his beer and nod to the door.
“Aw, come on, Gunner. I’m your best customer.”
“Not today, you’re not. Today you’re an epic fucking pain in my ass. Get the fuck out and stay out for a while. Find a new watering hole to shine your fucking positivity on.”
Norm shakes his head, backing away and slinking out of my bar as Cash moves onto the second chorus.
“Copper Sunrise.”
That’s what she’s titled the song. While she may have been scared about how slow and sweet and romantic it is, I think it’s the best thing she’s ever written. I can picture brides playing this song for their first dance decades from now. Whatever Cash is doing up at that lake house is certainly working.
She ends the song with a few quiet notes, then calmly stands and places the guitar back where she found it, moving off the stage as if the entire moment was a dream.
“Well, Sparrow, I’m not a man who hands out compliments freely, but that’s the best thing you’ve ever done.”
She tips her chin, her grin so fucking wide it nearly splits her cheeks and makes my heart beat double time. “That isn’t saying much.”
“I’ve spent my life surrounded by the best musicians and producers, and nothing has made me feel like you just did up there.”
“Are you trying to get in my pants again?”
I chuckle, bending to whisper in her ear, “Sparrow, you and I know that the only words I have to say to you fuck you are, ‘dirty slut.’”
She giggles and swats me.
I enjoy seeing her like this. She looks happy. I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me. “I’m serious, Cash. Your voice and lyrics are something special. You’re special.”
“Wow, Gunner, that’s a pretty incredible thing you just said.”
I trace a thumb along her hairline. “I meant every word. Seems country life agrees with you, Sparrow.”
“It’s not just country life that’s inspired me.” Her words are soft. She crooks her finger, telling me to bend. Once I’m close enough, she gets on her tiptoes and whispers, “That dick of yours ignites my imagination.”
The overwhelming urge to kick every poor fuck out of my bar and have my way with her all over this place is overwhelming. I need to kiss her, to let her know how fucking beautiful and perfect she is. “Imagine how much more material you’d have if you hadn’t avoided me for so long.”
“A day and a half?”
“Thirty-six hours of me wondering when I was gonna see you again was too long.” I touch my lips to hers in a slow kiss, swiping my tongue along the seam until she grasps my biceps and leans in for more. “Whaddya say I kick the rest of these guys out of here, and we go make some more music together?”
She pulls back, a surprised reaction on her pretty face. “You wanna shut the bar early?”
“Hell, yes, I do. I’ve got some ideas to inspire you with that last stanza.”
“What other instruments do you play other than the guitar? I have an idea to add piano and maybe some light jazz drums.”
“Mmm, I said nothing about using instruments to inspire you.” I press our lips together again, kissing her with deep, deft strokes. “We’ve got thirty-six hours to make up for.”
Chapter 10
Cash
Gunner’s apartment isn’t what I expected. I thought it would be a stereotypical cowboy’s house—animal heads, wood walls, and brown leather. I’m shocked to find he’s a minimalist—dark brown leather furniture with off-white accents. His kitchen is to die for, an open-space concept with a giant island and tall breakfast bar stools. I think how sweet it would be to see a family gathering around, breaking bread while discussing their day. A big bay window in the back leads to a backyard with a gazebo in the middle made for entertaining. The place is peaceful and serene, a refuge from the world. His house feels like home.