The Girl He Used To Love

“I’ve got nothing against umbrellas. I would have loved an umbrella tonight.”

“You in town for the weekend? Your mom didn’t mention you were coming home when I saw her earlier this week.”

Dean loved his mother, but he would have to convince Sawyer not to mention this visit. “I wasn’t planning on being in town at all. I was headed back to Nashville after a scouting trip to Birmingham. If my car hadn’t gotten a flat, I never would have heard you sing. You were a million times more entertaining than the band I saw earlier tonight. Did you write some of that set yourself?”

“About half.”

“Ever post songs on the internet? Have any social media presence?”

“Nope. No time for that. Only place I play is right here,” Sawyer said.

“What if I told you I could give you lots of time to play music?”

“Oh, yeah? You want to make me the next Boone Williams?” Sawyer snickered like it was a joke.

Country star Boone Williams had been the first to sign with Dean’s label after the singer had a falling out with his record company. At the time, it had seemed like a huge win. Little had Dean and Landon known the problem was more Boone than it was his label.

It had been five years since the megastar recorded an album and three years of nothing but bad press. Stories of infidelity, drug and alcohol problems, divorce and a child custody war circulated ad nauseam. Dean had convinced Boone to go to rehab, but the guy was still in a fragile state, claiming with his sobriety had come a complete loss of creativity. There were no songs to record in his near future.

Lately all Boone did was cost Dean money. Sawyer would not become another Boone. Dean’s gut told him he had a gold mine in front of him. “I want to make you the next Sawyer Stratton.”

Sawyer called Faith over. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. Her slender neck and apple cheeks were slightly flushed. She had always been pretty but that word no longer did her justice. Dean hated himself for drinking her in.

“Something tells me you put him up to this,” Sawyer said to his sister. “If this is payback for telling Charles Hackney you like guys who wear tight jeans and big belt buckles, so help me...”

Faith poked her brother in the chest. “Don’t you dare mention tight jeans and Charles in the same sentence. I’m not sure I’ll be able to look at that man the same way ever again.”

Sawyer’s grin was wide and toothy. Something told Dean he was the same old troublesome younger brother he had been.

“Just tell the truth,” Sawyer demanded. “Are you two messing with me?”

“I’m not joking,” Dean insisted. “I need new artists and you’re the first real talent I’ve seen in a long time. I would love to hear you sing again.”

Sawyer gave him a light punch in the shoulder. “Well, flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Your mom is going to be ecstatic,” Faith said with a smile, leaving Dean to question what his mother had to do with this. If he was lucky, he’d be out of here before she even heard he was in town.

“She’ll probably throw you a welcome home parade,” Sawyer added.

Every muscle in Dean’s body tensed. “Oh, I’m not staying. I was thinking you could come to Nashville. Meet some people. Nashville’s where the magic happens.”

“Nashville?” Faith’s face drained of color. “Things are kind of busy at the farm right now. One of the paddocks needs the fencing along the east side replaced and Sawyer’s in the middle of revamping the tack room.”

“Nashville is where the magic happens,” Dean repeated, looking at Sawyer in hopes of swaying him.

“I think what my sister is trying to say is I’ve got responsibilities here, Dean. I appreciate that you think I sound good enough to do more than play in this old bar, but with Dad gone, it’s just me and Faith, and we have the farm to run.”

Responsibilities? Didn’t Sawyer have a responsibility to himself to do something he loved? And Dean didn’t need to ask him if he loved making music; he’d heard it in every word the man sang.

The relief on Faith’s face stopped him from pointing that out. She needed her brother, and Dean wasn’t sure how he was going to handle that. He had to get back to Nashville. Once he was out of this godforsaken town, he’d find a way to lure Sawyer there.

Dean glanced at his watch. It was almost midnight. Too late to ask Landon to drive down here to get him. Going to his parents’ house was completely out of the question. If he showed his face there, they’d never let him leave. There was only one option.

“I don’t want to bother my parents this late at night and I need a place to crash. You think I could sleep on your couch? I’ll be gone in the morning, I swear.”

Sawyer glanced at Faith, who bit her bottom lip. It wasn’t any wonder she’d be hesitant about inviting him into her house. The last time he had been there, he’d said some pretty horrible things.

“I’m sure your mom wouldn’t mind being woken up because you were home,” she said in her attempt to say no without actually saying the word.

“I don’t want to make a scene, you know?”

“I get it,” Sawyer said.

“What about Tanner’s B&B?” Faith was quick to suggest.

“They don’t take guests in the middle of the night, Faith. You know that,” Sawyer argued.

Dean was desperate. “You won’t even know I’m there.”

“You can come home with us,” Sawyer said. “I’ll even let you borrow some dry clothes because I’m not only talented but kind and generous, as well.”

“Right. That or you don’t want me to ruin your couch.”

Sawyer grinned. “That, too.”

* * *

FAITH MUST HAVE misheard her brother because there was no way he’d offered to let Dean Presley sleep on their couch. She waited and cornered him while Dean went to hold his phone under the hand dryer for a minute.

“Have you lost your mind? You can’t let him stay at our house.”

“What else is he supposed to do?” Sawyer replied.

“He has family in town. Family that would probably love to see him.” Not that he cared about the people he’d left behind. His parents visited him in Nashville, but he had made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with this town...nothing to do with Faith. He had always blamed her for what had happened to Addison. Of course, no one blamed Faith as much as Faith did.

“It’s late, sis. Have a heart.”

He was so much like their dad, always willing to give the shirt off his back. Faith was really no different. Josie had warned them both that their generosity was their weakness. Kindness rarely helped pay the bills. He was also infuriatingly right. There really wasn’t anywhere else Dean could go if he refused to wake his family. One night on their couch wasn’t going to kill her.

“Fine.”

Sawyer gave her a kiss on the top of the head. “You want to close up for me? His jeans are so wet, I’m starting to feel uncomfortable for him. Unless you want to take him...”

No way did Faith want to be alone with Dean. The last time they were alone at her house, he had ripped her heart out. It was almost closing time, anyway, and Josie wouldn’t care who helped her lock up. “I’ll stay. You go.”

Dean returned from the men’s room. His water-logged phone still didn’t work.

“Let’s go, Music Man,” Sawyer said, grabbing his guitar case. “Let’s get you dried off before you chafe something.”