Music Notes (39 page)

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Authors: Lacey Black

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy

BOOK: Music Notes
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3 months later

 

Note to self: I will never look at a music video the same. Ever.

 

I feel like I’ve held the same pose, done the same things over and over and over again. And that’s probably because I have. We arrived at the studio at six a.m. and are finishing up the last scene as the sky is cast into a beautiful dusk of yellow and orange. We’ve recorded the ending at least six times already, each time from a slightly different angle to capture the setting sun. Who knew making a music video was so damn draining?

I follow Beau towards the Mercedes SUV parked in the small lot behind the studio. He’s practically dragging me along in my black cowboy boots, my knees throbbing and my legs weak. The man that means more than any other–Eli excluded–opens the passenger door and waits until I slide into our vehicle. As soon as I’m securely in the seat, he leans through the open door and places another kiss on my lips. You’d think that it would get old, but it doesn’t. His desire to kiss me mirrors my desire to let him. I can’t imagine a day where kissing him wouldn’t hold the same appeal. His lips are my drug.

The backdoor opens and the reminder of what is happening slides into the backseat. The large black camera is poised directly at us, catching every moment of our shared kiss for the world to soon see.

It has been three months since the conclusion of
Rising Star.
Beau and I stayed to watch as the new champion was crowned. When they announced Ben Atwood as the winner, I was elated for my friend. He was hesitant to hug me at first, I’m pretty sure that had something to do with the fact that Beau growled at him when he approached and refused to let go of my hand. But I still hugged my former teammate and congratulated him on his victory. Beau even shook his hand and offered congratulations. When Ben returned his attention to me, he placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, turned back to Beau, and said, “Take care of her.” I held my breath as Beau extended his hand again and shook, silently confirming his promise to do just that.

After the show, I went back home to Chicago. The outpour I received when returning to my old life was amazing. Tiffany was there to put an instant smile on my face while I returned to my old job at Chaser’s. Evenings were spent on the phone with Beau. Even though the show didn’t monopolize his time, his commitment to his own record label and tour did. He finished out the last few weeks of his tour before flying to Chicago and knocking on my door.

Beau stayed in Chicago for a month while we determined where our future led. Ultimately, it was Eli who made the decision for us the day he came home from preschool and told us he wanted to move with Beau. How the little guy even knew we were discussing that very possibility still chokes me up. My son is enamored with the handsome cowboy, following him everywhere he goes. It’s a sight I never thought I’d see, but am so eternally grateful that it happened.

And Beau is just as caught up in Eli. My son is front and center in every decision he makes from where he’s taking me to dinner to where we’re going afterwards. It’s as if Eli is permanently attached to Beau’s hip; the father figure my son has never had.

It took me only a few weeks to get all of my affairs in order and plan the move. Mom had decided to stay in Chicago, but for how long is still unknown. Mom and Lee have been dating since she returned home from her visit to LA. We’ve enjoyed several dinners all together: Mom, Lee, Beau, Eli, and me. Lee loves to engage Beau in debates over the merit of new country vs. classic country. One big happy family.

The day we finished packing up the U-Haul will forever be one of the hardest days of my life. Tears streamed unchecked down my face as I clung tightly to the woman who has loved and supported me my entire life. She’s more than just my mother; she’s my best friend, and I miss her every day.

Nashville is so completely different than Chicago. While still a fast-paced city, it has a slightly laid back feel to it. Plus, there are cowboy hats and boots everywhere you turn, at least in the part of the city that we now live in. Eli took to the new style like a fish to water. He begged Beau to find him his own cowboy boots and a hat, which of course, Beau readily obliged. Even though he may wear his own small cowboy hat in public, his favorite hat to wear at home is Beau’s ol’ worn black one. Even if it’s still on his head, Beau will take it off and drop it down on my son’s head. He swims in it, but the picture is so adorable, you can’t help but smile every time you see it.

Today we’re leaving the downtown music studio where Beau records his albums. The first video for his new single was filmed today at different locations within the studio. The entire experience was an eye-opener, to say the least.

As Beau slides into the driver’s seat of our SUV, another black vehicle pulls up behind us. Now we can go. We make our way through the streets of Nashville, winding our way towards the home we now share. It’s bigger than any house I’ve ever seen. Together over the past month, we’ve been slowly making the house our home. Beau gave me free reign to make any changes that I wanted. The house was beautifully, professionally decorated so the only changes I made were to a guest room, which is now Eli’s room, and the family room, which is warm and inviting with toys strewn everywhere.

The buzz surrounding our time on the show still hasn’t died down completely, and now it’s even worse with all the hype of the special program the network is planning. Beau and I continue to be extremely private, and that makes the invasion that much more difficult to deal with. Every time someone asks about our relationship, we always answer with a polite “no comment.” The only problem with that statement is that it neither denies nor confirms the rumors hemorrhaging from the media, giving the viewers and readers the opportunity to draw their own conclusion. And that’s fine. Our story will be told soon enough.

One more night in the presence of the film crew before we can return to our normal lives. Well, as normal as can be expected when your significant other is a musical genius. Beau’s fourth album is produced and getting ready for distribution. Most of it was planned in what little down time he was allotted while we were on the show, but he added one song to the track list before he would approve the final edition.

“Ready?” Beau asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Of course,” I reply as we both slide out of the vehicle.

Hand in hand, we walk up the steps leading towards our front door. We’ve slightly altered our routine to accommodate the camera crew that is shadowing us. It’s more difficult for them to make their way out of the vehicle in the garage and get through the interior door that leads to the mudroom. Plus, something about lighting, yada, yada, yada.

Laughter floats from the family room that instantly warms my heart. I’ll never tire of hearing my son’s sweet voice or his happy laughter. And lately, since Beau has entered our lives, I hear that sweet sound nonstop.

“We’re home,” I holler from the front entry.

I hear his little feet on the hardwood floor as he runs to greet us.

“Mommy!” Eli yells, followed closely behind by his newest friend, a six-month-old rescue pup named Waylon. I never imagined having a dog, but all it took was Eli mentioning it one time, and suddenly Beau is buying dog treats and chew toys.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I tell my son as he plasters a big hug around my neck. “Were you a good boy for Grandma?” I ask, looking over his shoulder for confirmation.

“Yep!” he exclaims as he shimmies down my lap and launches himself at Beau.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Guess what, Beau. Grandma and Lee are going to move here with us!”

I look up at my mom who isn’t even trying to hide her smile. Beau and I had invited her to stay a week ago when we planned their visit to Nashville, but I didn’t push the issue. She had promised to think about relocating here and that was good enough for me.

“Really?” I ask as tears fill my eyes.

“Yeah, really. I know you really only invited me temporarily, but I talked with Lee and we both thought we’d like the change,” she starts.

“Are you kidding me? Of course, you’re both welcome,” I say as I pull her into a fierce hug. Just the thought of having my mom close again brings me much joy and happiness.

“Well, Beau offered us the guest house out back, so we won’t be moving in here with you. I’ll still be close enough to help with Eli while you’re at the studio and stuff,” she adds with a smile.

The studio. Our studio. There’s a small studio behind the house that Beau had built when he purchased this place. It’s the perfect location to record music or write songs. That’s what I’ve been doing these past few weeks. I’ve been writing music. It’s something I’ve never tried nor ever realized I’d wanted to try. When we settled in, Beau took me out back and showed me his private little oasis. He started working with me further on playing the guitar, just a few basic notes, but suddenly, words started to flow. Beau started to write the more I started to say. By the end of a very late night, we had written a song. Together.

While Eli attends his new school, I spend my time in the studio. I’ve written several songs or even more snippets of lyrics or pieces of melodies. I’m not sure if they’re any good, but Beau seems to get excited with each piece of music I show him.

Over dinner, we discuss plans to move Mom and Lee to Nashville. Beau is a planner and executer so when he gets an idea in his head, he’s going to sit down and figure it out until it’s set in stone and right. He can’t seem to move on until the problem is solved or the dilemma taken care of. Which works well for us because I’m a little more laid back.

The camera crew follows us around like Waylon, trailing and circling at our feet everywhere we go. To the store. To the park. To the studio. We’ve spent hours in the studio writing and playing around, and I’m starting to question the network’s vision on this so-called reality show. Because in reality, we’re boring as hell.

That night, we finally fall into the one place the cameras aren’t allowed to go: our bedroom. It’s our escape away from the demands, the noises, and the realities of life. Here, we’re just Beau and Layne, and we’re usually naked.

“Here ya are,” Beau says from the doorway of my little sitting area that I use for reading.

“Here I am,” I say with a small smile. As Beau steps closer, I shut my book and set it down on the small table sitting right next to his favorite guitar.

“I was thinkin’, we should fire up the jets tonight,” he says as he squats down in front of me. I run my hands through his dark hair, savoring the rare moment of Beau without a hat on.

“Fill it up,” I tell him, referring to our large jetted garden tub in the master bathroom. Every time we’re in it, I’m reminded of the hot tub in Denver, and especially what followed.

Once we’re both inside, me nestled comfortably within his strong legs, I finally start to shake off the stress of the day. Beau runs his rough hands along the outside of my arms, up to my shoulders, and then down my back. Everything seems to float away as I let the soothing pressure of his hands lull my mind into nothingness.

“So what did ya think of your first music video?” he asks, that deep, twangy southern drawl tickling the shell of my ear.

“It was exhausting.”

Beau’s soft chuckle fills our bathroom. “That they are, darlin’. Are ya ready for the world to see it? Not only is it your big video debut, but the way we’re ending it is like openin’ the proverbial door and allowin’ the world to step inside our private lives.”

“They’re already here. Even if we weren’t doing this special, they’d be there because of your career.”

“And yours…”

“Well, I think I have to achieve a career in order to endorse one,” I tell him.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve already sold two songs in the last few weeks. Keep that shit up and you’ll be the bread winner in this household and not me.” I know that isn’t even remotely possible, but I appreciate him trying to boost my ego a bit.

He’s correct, though. I have sold two songs in the last couple of weeks. One is being pitched to Little Big Town and the other to Chris Young, respectfully, by their labels. Who would have guessed I’d be writing music that was primarily country? Definitely not me. I still don’t even know who half of the stars I meet on the street are. Beau has to point them out to me every dang time. It’s embarrassing, actually. I live in freaking Nashville, could be standing next to George Strait, and I probably wouldn’t realize it.

Note to self: See if they have a Country Legends for Dummies book.

“Only two more days,” Beau whispers as he softly caresses my back.

“Only two more days, but then the show will air in a month or so and our quiet will turn right back to crazy.”

“Sweetheart, our life is always crazy. The only quiet I get is when I’m in here with you.”

“In the bathtub?” I sass.

“Not exactly what I meant,” he chuckles. “When I’m behind these closed doors where no one is permitted, I’m finally allowed to breathe. The stress of the business, making music, the demands, cameras and fans, it all fades away. I can finally be me when I’m with you.” His statement is punctuated with his lips caressing my shoulder.

An uncontrollable shiver tears through my body. My skin is flush from the water, but starts to burn under each graze of those long fingers. His hands glide smoothly over my wet body, stroking and seducing me with each touch.

Suddenly, Beau stands, water cascading over his perfect body. His erection is tall and proud, silently begging for a little attention. My fingers twitch to give it all the care it needs.

Beau doesn’t speak as he steps out, wraps a towel around his waist and releases the drain. With water dripping from his arms, he reaches down and picks me up from the tub. Not even bothering to grab a second towel, he cradles my wet body in his arms and heads towards our bedroom.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m takin’ the woman I love to bed.”

 

*****

 

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