Authors: Luann McLane
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction
Twist and Shout
C
AT STARED AT THE SELECTION OF FROZEN DINNERS IN HER freezer and wrinkled up her nose. “Well, yuck.” Her stomach rumbled in empty protest, but none of the selections appealed to her. She supposed there was nothing like taking a tumble down a mountain to get your appetite going. She wanted something spicy and maybe a little bit naughty, like a cheeseburger or wings. French fries. “No, onion rings!” Cat tried fairly hard to eat a healthy diet, but sometimes a girl just had to splurge.
Nibbling on the inside of her lip, she considered going out to dinner, but the thought of eating alone made her groan. One of the bad things about changing cities was leaving all your friends behind, she thought with another drawn-out sigh.
Cat picked up the lemon chicken with angel hair pasta and tried to get her taste buds interested, but they stubbornly cried out for bar food. She was considering digging into the decadent chocolate chip ice cream when her cell phone rang, making her jump about a foot into the air. When she spotted Mia’s name on the screen, she
eagerly answered. “Please tell me you’re back in town and want to go out and eat some greasy bar food. I need a partner in crime,” Cat said in a rush.
“I am back in town, and I want to go out and eat some greasy bar food,” Mia repeated with a laugh.
“Oh, Mia, have I told you lately that I love you?”
“No, and I’ve been wondering about that. What gives?”
Cat laughed. “Well, I love you.”
“More than greasy bar food?”
“That might be pushing it.” Cat sat down on a tall stool with backs made from bent willow branches. “But you’re a close second.”
Mia chuckled. “I’ll take what I can get. By the way, I’m so glad you like the cabin.”
“Oh, Mia, it’s gorgeous. Both rustic and elegant at the same time. The splash of color with the quilts brightens up the entire cabin. It’s just so cozy and peaceful here. And I just love the view of the river.”
“I thought the setting was just perfect. So do you want to meet me at Sully’s? I can get over there pretty soon and snag a table. It’s ladies’ night, so it will be pretty packed with ladies and of course guys looking for ladies.”
“Yeah, I can get there in a little while. I just have to brush the leaves and twigs out of my hair.”
Mia laughed. “Should I ask?”
“No, just use your imagination.”
“I’ll drag it out of you over onion rings.”
“Onion rings always make me spill my guts.”
Mia laughed. “Gosh, I’ve missed you, girl.”
“Oh, me too! But, Mia, do you think I can go out without causing . . . you know, kind of a stir?” Cat hated asking because she thought it made her sound full of herself, but she wanted to be prepared.
“You don’t have to be concerned with too much of that. With the recent influx of celebrities moving here,
the locals actually try hard to let you maintain your privacy. You might get asked for an autograph or photo or two, but that should be about it. And other than the local paper, there aren’t paparazzi like you might find in Nashville.”
“That’s so good to know.”
“People tend to protect their own here in Cricket Creek. You’re part of the family now.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet. This was such a big decision for me to move here, but I immediately felt it was the right choice. It might sound silly, but it was like the wildflowers were waving a welcome.”
“You’re a songwriter. That’s how your brain works.”
“I didn’t think anyone knew how my brain works.”
“Well, I’ll tell you this much. I’m sure glad that my car decided to conk out in Cricket Creek, Kentucky. My life changed for the better that day.” Mia chucked. “Well, maybe not that
very
day. It took a little living and learning little things like, um, what was important in life.”
Cat laughed. “Well, and not to mention you met the love of your life here.”
“Yeah, after I caused him to be tossed in jail and almost get kicked off the baseball team.”
“This might be a small town, but big things seem to happen here.”
“Well, yeah,
you’re
here. That’s big too. Oh, don’t get me wrong. Gossip spreads like wildfire, like in any small town. But . . . for the most part it’s just being nosy in a fun and caring kind of way, not to exploit or take advantage of you being a celebrity. You won’t find anyone selling pictures of you to the tabloids here, Cat.”
“That’s sweet music to my ears.” Cat sighed with relief. “I’m so over that whole being exploited thing.”
“It’s a polite, small-town thing to be respectful. Oh, but we are also oh so fiercely proud of who lives here. Like I said, you are kind of a big deal, you know.”
“My parents started it all when they bought me that
microphone for Christmas when I was five. But fame wasn’t part of my goal growing up. Just the love of music, you know?”
“I do know that about you, Cat. You’re one of the most giving people around and you do your charity work without anyone knowing. Those designer shoes you sent for Heels for Meals were just amazing. What’s left of the shoes you donated are on display at Violet’s Vintage Clothing on Main Street. They went pretty fast!”
“Speaking of—when you have time, I need to go shopping. Purging my closets felt so good but now I’m in dire need of some clothes. Vintage sounds fun. I want to develop my own sense of style and not just dress the way I was told to.”
“You of all people know you won’t have to twist my arm to go shopping,” Mia said. “I just do it a bit differently these days. I love a good bargain.”
Cat had to smile. “Oh, Mia, I would have given anything to have seen you waiting tables at Wine and Diner when you moved here and pretending to be Mia Money. I mean, I know you were trying to prove yourself without using the Monroe name, but seriously, how did you even call yourself that with a straight face?”
“I have no idea. But you sure saved the day for me when you agreed to sing the national anthem at the Cougars opening-day game. If I had gotten Cam kicked off the team for getting into that darned fight, he might not have married me.”
“Oh, the moment I met him when you came to pick me up in Nashville, I knew you were in love. I’m glad I played a part in bringing you and Cameron Patrick together, but I think you two would have made it against all odds.”
“Still, I was so glad you answered the phone that day when I was in Noah Falcon’s office pretending to know what I was doing.”
Cat laughed at the memory. “That’s what friends are
for. And I can’t wait to hang out with Cam when he’s back in town.”
“I still can’t wrap my brain around the fact that you’re actually living in Cricket Creek. Wait—”
Cat heard her friend squeal. “Mia, what on earth are you doing?”
“The Snoopy happy dance. Sorry—I had to get that out of my system. Okay,
enough
—get your tushy over to Sully’s. There should be a slew of cute country boys and baseball players since there’s no night game. You might get asked to dance if any of them has the nerve to ask Cat Carson.”
“Unfortunately, that can be a bit of a problem. Guys tend to forget that I’m just a person like everyone else. I like to hold hands and be kissed as much as anybody.” A vision of Jeff slid into her brain.
“Well, you just let your wingman do the job.”
“I pretty much suck at flirting. I think I might actually need a wingman.”
“Yes! Oh, I forgot to tell you that matchmaking is the favorite pastime in Cricket Creek right after baseball.”
Cat rolled her eyes. “Wait. Okay, then I have to ask you this. Did you pick the cabin I’m living in because it’s close to Jeff Greenfield?”
“Of course not!” Mia answered so incredulously that Cat didn’t believe her even one little bit.
“Well, it’s not going to work.”
“He’s single, super hot, and can sing. You two are made for each other. And seriously, what’s not to like?”
“Nothing. I just don’t think I’m his type.”
“Wait. Did you just say you liked him, though?”
“No!” If she kept telling people, soon the entire town would know she had a crush on Jeff Greenfield. Of course, there was likely a long list of girls gaga over the hometown country crooner. “You heard me incorrectly.”
“Oh, I heard you loud and clear. You’ve got a thing for Jeff Greenfield. You might as well admit it.”
“Well, okay, maybe I have a tiny little
thing
for him. It’s those stupid dimples. They should be outlawed. I’m going to fill them in with Silly Putty when he’s not looking.”
“I knew it!”
“Mia, I will never speak to you ever again if you let
him
know it.”
“I can keep a secret,” Mia promised so seriously that Cat had to grin.
“And no meddling. There will be no mixing business with . . . you know.”
“Pleasure?”
Cat felt a blush warm her cheeks at the thought of pleasure and Jeff Greenfield in the same sentence. “Yeah, it would lead to an epic disaster.”
“Really? What about Faith Hill and Tim McGraw? Miranda Lambert and Blake Shelton? Trisha Yearwood and Garth Brooks? Sonny and Cher.”
“Sonny and Cher?”
“I was running out of examples.”
“Mia, I think I kind of . . . annoy him.”
“I seriously doubt that. Cat, you’re a bit quirky, but that’s part of your charm.”
“In other words, embrace my weirdness?”
“I prefer to call it uniqueness, but yes. Can I still be your wingman, though?”
“Absolutely. As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I need. And maybe a tutor.”
“A tutor at what?”
“Guy 101. Can you help?”
Mia laughed. “You’re so silly. I’ll see you soon.”
After ending the call Cat stood there grinning. It would be so nice to go out and not get hounded for autographs or pictures. Cat always tried to be accommodating and adored her fans, but it would be so relaxing not to have to deal with that now that she lived in Cricket Creek.
Suddenly super excited, Cat hurried into her bedroom in search of something to wear. Jeans, boots, and a fitted floral blouse seemed like a good choice for a honky-tonk bar. In Nashville Cat loved Lower Broadway, where all the legendary bars were located, but she didn’t get to go out all that much since she couldn’t go to a bar without causing a stir and usually getting a request to sing. Here in Cricket Creek she hoped that Mia was right and the locals would give her privacy.
Cat inhaled a breath. And when was the last time she’d danced with a guy? Did she even remember how to flirt? Cat thought about the banter back and forth with Jeff. That wasn’t flirting. That was . . .
What was it exactly?
Cat was still thinking about that question when she entered the bathroom to freshen up and change, but then sucked in a breath when she saw her reflection. With her hair mussed and wearing Jeff’s shirt, she looked like she’d just rolled out of bed. His bed. She looked down at the bandage and remembered the gentleness in his touch and the concern in his eyes.
And then she remembered the kiss.
Had she really kissed him first? God, she hoped not. Cat grabbed the edge of the sink. “No!” she whispered. No matter what Mia said, Cat knew all too well that mixing business and romance would more than likely end in heartbreak. She’d tried that several times when she let Matt Stanford set her up on several dates thinking he was actually trying to find a boyfriend for her when all he wanted was the publicity of hooking her up with another country star or sports hero. It took Cat a while to realize that paparazzi didn’t always show up by accident. No, getting involved with someone in the business was just asking for trouble. And she didn’t need to even ask for trouble . . . it just seemed to find her.
Cat tugged the T-shirt over her head, telling herself to give it back to Jeff as soon as she could. But when she
caught a whiff of his aftershave, Cat put the shirt to her nose and inhaled. “What are you doing?” she sputtered and threw the shirt down. “So he smells good . . . so what?” She glared at the shirt thinking she should take it over to his cabin and toss it in his face. It occurred to Cat that Jeff hadn’t done anything to deserve her wrath, but staying pissed at him—even if for no good reason—was going to be her best defense.
Cat decided that she would let Mia be her wingman. Tonight, for the first time in such a long while, she was going to let her hair down and have a rocking good time. She was going to dance and flirt and get all thoughts of Jeff Greenfield right out of her system.
With that thought, Cat paid special attention to her makeup. Then she added soft curls to her hair, letting it fall in beachy waves over her shoulders. After giving herself a critical once-over she sprayed on a bit of her favorite perfume and then added a bit more for good measure. With her hands fisted on her hips she stood back and surveyed her reflection in the mirror. “Look out, boys of Cricket Creek. Here I come.”
Of course, in typical Cat Carson style, when she walked up the sidewalk to Sully’s front door thirty minutes later, her resolve started to falter. After her childhood years of feeling gangly and clumsy, she still found it difficult to believe that she’d ended up on magazine covers. When her manager had called to inform her she’d been selected as one of
People
magazine’s sexiest women, Cat had thought it was a huge joke being played on her and she still didn’t quite get it.
When she tugged open the heavy door to Sully’s and stepped inside, the rest of her confidence dissolved like a spoonful of sugar in hot tea. The place was packed and everybody was talking to someone, making Cat feel as if she were crashing a party. Inhaling a deep breath, she fought back the urge to turn on her heel and scurry out the door.
You can do this
, her inner voice demanded.
You’ve played onstage before thousands. This is nothing.
But up onstage she let the music take over and she tried to tune the crowd out. She couldn’t very well start singing in the middle of a local bar, now could she? Cat eyed the small stage in the far corner and sighed. Well, maybe she could—not that she wanted to. But bringing attention to her celebrity status would undermine her desire to fit in and just simply be one of the crowd. All Cat had ever really wanted to do was to fit in, and all of her life she had stood out. She knew she was an odd combination of self-confidence and insecurity. She could make people laugh, sing at the top of her lungs, and entertain a crowd, but when she was stripped down and just trying to be herself Cat still felt uneasy. Sometimes she felt as if she were always
on
, and it was sometimes tiring.