He shrugged. “There’s a little pressure here.” This was nothing big for her; her family owned the recording studio he was sitting in for crying out loud. But for him, this was huge.
She laughed. “Why? Because you’re hoping to prove that you’re worthy of being on a record with my sister?”
This recording contract was important, but the Three Kings had never been part of the original deal. Singing with Emmy Lou guaranteed him instant fame—but he’d rather sing with Krystal. Not that he’d say so. Hell, he was just happy to be here. But there was so much riding on this. A future for Heather, for one. Financial security. And, if he was lucky, a career that wouldn’t age him before his time. “It’s more than that.”
She put her headset on the music stand and sat back. “What then? You need to have a clear head so you can focus on the music.”
“And them?” he asked, pointing at the sound booth. To her, they were family. To him, they were country music stars. Chart-toppers with the kind of power and connections he couldn’t begin to imagine.
“They’ll wait.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Talk.”
She was sexy as hell when she was bossy. Sexier. Was it possible for her to be sexier? He laughed. Right or wrong, he’d spent far too much time wishing he’d knocked on her bus door. “I’m supposed to make Hank King wait on me?”
“Yep.” She nodded. “Tell me what you’d be doing now. If you weren’t here.”
He sucked in a deep breath, imagining his daily routine. “Six months ago, I was working in the oil fields of Odessa, Texas. Money’s good—or it’s not. Leave there, bone-tired, and head to Bail Bonds. Late nights, lots of drunks and stupid people wanting a ‘get out of jail free’ card. And, occasionally, I’d sing at the local honky-tonk.”
“How’d you get here?” she asked, a smile on her face.
“My sister. She entered me in that reality show and everything changed.” He shook his head. “All this”—he pointed around the studio—“is still a shock to my system. Your dad in there. Your sister. Being opposite you. Singing with you?” His voice deepened. “I am in my head a little.”
Her expression shifted, from curious to…concerned. “I’m guessing there’s a reason you’re working so hard?” She cleared her throat. “Wife? Kids?”
“No.” Not anymore. Thinking about what he’d lost still tore him up inside. Talking about it here, now? No way. “Little sister. A lot of medical bills to pay off.” He didn’t elaborate. “She’s a freshman in college now.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “She’s a kid. A good kid. Deserves having her chance.”
“What about you?” she asked. “Ever stop to think this is your chance?”
This was definitely his chance. But he’d been putting Heather first for so long, putting her first now just made sense. “A chance I can’t afford to screw up,” he replied.
She grinned. “Jace Michael Black. My daddy thinks you can sing. And if my daddy thinks you can sing, you can’t be all that bad.”
He laughed. Was it wrong that hearing her say his name felt good? And her grin. Damn but she was a pretty thing. Even without all the makeup and fancy clothes she’d been wearing the other night. If anything, he preferred her like this—young, natural, casual. And then he realized, she was relaxed, all the defensive tension and anger gone. She loved this, loved music. They had that in common.
“What’s your sister’s name?”
“Heather,” he said.
“She’s named Heather and you get stuck with Jace?” She shook her head.
“Still not over the name yet?” he asked, his gaze falling to her long neck.
“Told you, I’m not sure what I think yet,” she said.
“I’m fine. I mean, I’m ready now.” He rolled his head. He could do this.
“You sure?” she asked, picking up her headphones. “We could go once, no music. If you want?”
He shook his head and put on his headphones.
Krystal gave the sound booth the thumbs-up and a slight hum flooded his ears. The yearning strains of the guitar flipped a switch inside. The melody was sweeter than he’d expected. And when the lead-in notes rolled over him, he closed his eyes and sang, “I remember you, standing in the sun, smiling at me, and suddenly the world caught fire. Blinding, beautiful fire.”
The music kept going, but Krystal was silent.
He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, her lips parted and her eyes wide. He’d screwed up? His gaze bounced from t
he pages to Krystal. She just kept right on staring. Shit. What had he done? He glanced at her, skimmed the lyrics, then turned to the sound booth. “Aw, was my timing off?” As far as he could tell, he’d been spot on.
Hank King chuckled. “No. You were great. You just blew her socks off, son.” He was still chuckling. “How about we start again? Will that work for you, Krystal?”