“I love it here.” My low voice sounds surprisingly alien, surreal.
In the silence around us, I can’t stop thinking about his sister, about the dream of a real cowboy to support his family, and the risks he took to get there.
Kellan has an amazing voice, and music is his passion.
People out there deserve to hear his songs.
I want to hear his songs, but I also feel sad for the man who wanted to quit all along, and yet didn’t, until it was too late and his sister had already died serving her country.
“I love it too. But I love it even more now that you’re here,” Kellan says.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“So, what do you think?” Kellan asks.
He is nervous. His tone is less forceful than usual. Less sure of himself. “Here I am, famous and rich, and I’m going to throw it all away. Not the money, of course, but everything else. Does that sound sane to you?”
Sane?
What is sane?
Besides, who am I to judge what is sane for him, and what isn’t?
“It think it sounds human.” I smile at him. “You must be really sick of your job.”
He lets out a laugh. “You have no idea.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug. “What you’re doing is definitely better than planning to kill your boss. Take me, for example. I sure would kill mine, if I thought I’d get away with it.”
Which is just a joke, obviously.
But TB is unbearable. The mere thought of her breathing down my neck has me covered in a cold sweat.
“I knew you’d get me.” His voice is serious again. His foot is tapping against the wood. His whole posture is tense.
“Yep, kindred spirits and all.”
“So, now that you know the truth, has your opinion about me changed?” he asks. “Are you disappointed?”
In the soft moonlight, I can see that he’s still smiling, but his nervousness is obvious. He doesn’t need to say why he’s feeling this way. I understand.
Quitting his job and turning his back on a world he’s lived in for years is unsettling. The future’s unpredictable.
People won’t know the exact circumstances. Rumors will soon spread. The tabloids will say that he failed, entered rehab, died. Soon, people will move on and forget him. He’ll become a nobody to them.
As a journalist, I know. This business is cruel. It doesn’t care about one’s feelings. It only cares about money and selling more copies than the competition.
“Disappointed? Hell, no. I’m actually glad.” My fingers move to intertwine with his. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t like things to be complicated.”
He stays silent for a long time.
“Those six days with you were amazing, Ava,” he says at last. “Before, I didn’t know if I could trust you, but you turned out to be exactly the woman I thought you were.”
I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment. I still haven’t quite figured out the Kellan Boyd, but I’d like to dedicate my time to solve the mystery he is.
“And who do you think I am?” I ask.
“Someone who’s amazing. Someone I want to get to know in depth.”
My breath hitches in my throat.
This is my chance to tell him that’s exactly what I want, too, and yet I keep quiet, letting him continue.
“The moment I met you, I knew you were different. You weren’t dressed up to see some band greeting the crowd in a nightclub. You weren’t even there to see the band.” His gaze flicks around the meadows before it settles on my eyes and lips again. “I liked that, so I remembered your license registration and found out your name, where you lived, basically everything I could find out about you. It helps that my brother’s the deputy sheriff around here.”
“Wow. That’s creepy.” I slap his thigh in mock annoyance, marveling how hard and sculpted his muscles are. “See, that’s why I told Mandy about you. I knew you were a creep, albeit a hot one,” I say, my voice low as I think back three months ago, give or take a week or two. “If Ryder found out my number, you could have called me.”
“You would never have talked to me, Ava. You made it clear that you didn’t like me.” His gaze meets mine. The glint of candor in his eyes makes me flinch. “And I don’t blame you. I was an ass. But I still needed to see you again. It wasn’t until my sister died that I had the courage to change my life, so I came up with a plan. I persuaded my band mates to play a last, small gig in Montana and made sure that you were picked as the winner in a radio giveaway swoop.”
In spite of the fact that he deceived me into seeing him again and omitted most of the details about his life, I can’t help but feel touched. No one’s ever done something remotely twisted for me.