hand up. “Look. I’m not here to step on toes or get in on your personal business with Jolene. But can you at least think about it? This could be fun. Y’all are in a different spot than you were writing your first album, and I’m excited about the possibility of working with you. Let’s go in open minded and see what happens.”
He wasn’t sure what the hell to say to that. She didn’t look aggressive. She just looked eager. Unlike him, Tennyson had no family country music pedigree. She had moved down to Nashville from Chicago and made a name for herself. He respected that. He rubbed his jaw, acknowledging mentally that he hadn’t shaved in days, and refused to look at Ginny. He was still honked off at her, even though she was right. His focus on Jolene had been emotional and physical. It had not been career driven the last week.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just throw around a few measures with Tennyson. She was young and full of fresh ideas. And as much as he hated to admit it, he seemed to have lost some of his fire at the moment. His thoughts had been directed more toward getting Jolene naked and the possibility of marrying her at some point than writing the best music of his career, which was how every album should be approached.
“We can certainly talk,” he said. “But I don’t have writer’s block, despite what Ginny is implying. I just haven’t been trying to write anything.”
“Now is your chance.”
“Hey, can I get you some coffee?” he asked, realizing that he was being rude to keep her standing there in his backyard, sun beating down on her face. “Water, juice, or anything?”
“I’ll take a water and a guitar,” she said with a grin, her hands tucked into her front pockets.
Chance laughed. “I guess you’re ready to go.”
“I’ll take a coffee,” Ginny said. “Thanks for offering.” She was standing to the side rolling her eyes.
They were going to have it out sooner and later, he and Ginny. She was pushing every last one of his buttons on purpose and he wasn’t sure why. “I only got two hands, Ginny. I’ll get you next go round.” He said it in a slow drawl, head cocked.
Ginny finally broke into something of a smile. “You’re an ass.”
“I have an idea,” Tennyson said dryly. “Why don’t we all go in and grab what we need and come back out?”
“You’re so reasonable,” Ginny said. “It’s one of the things I like about you. Some people aren’t reasonable at all.” She shot him a look.
“Are you going to babysit us?” he asked. “Don’t worry, I won’t toss Tennyson out on her ear, but if we’re going to give this a shot, I do not need you hanging around scowling at me in the background.” Just so they were clear with each other.
“Nobody’s going to be scowling.” Tennyson squeezed his arm and moved past him with a smile. “Let’s get started.” Her walk was lithe, her hips rolling.
He couldn’t see her eyes behind the sunglasses, but he didn’t think she was flirting with him. She was just confident. Playful. You didn’t get to the top of the heap at twenty-nine or whatever she was by being hesitant. So he wasn’t going to read anything in to her smile and swagger. Yet he was a bit unnerved to be following her into his own house. He was definitely caught off guard and that had clearly been Ginny’s intention. Tip the apple cart and see if some songs tumble out.
Jolene was nowhere to be found and his bedroom door was shut. He wondered if he should go in there and check on her. But it seemed rude to leave Tennyson and Ginny standing in his kitchen, so he did the host thing, pouring them coffee and offering cream and sugar.
They sat at his table and talked about where they were on the project, which was nowhere, and Ginny gave Tennyson some background on the label’s expectations. After a few minutes, Ginny said, “I’m going to pop in on Jolene so you two just keep talking.”
As Ginny disappeared, Chance tossed his hair back out of his eyes and slouched back in his chair, legs apart. “So what are you hoping to gain out of this?” he asked Tennyson.
“Are you kidding me?” She lifted an eyebrow and set her glass down on his wood table. “I get to work with you. This is a huge