She watched his mouth kiss her wrist and palm, seeming almost transfixed. “I want to stay the night with you. I just want to know you better first.”
“I’ve already told you more about me than I’ve told anyone.” He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “But you deserve more and I’ll give it to you. I can’t exactly take you out on a date, though. If we were in New York or Los Angeles, I could be more anonymous, but this place…it’s the size of a postage stamp.”
“Yeah,” she murmured. “Everyone in town was shocked when you announced a tour date here.” Her light brows pulled together. “Why did you?”
“I told our manager I wanted a smaller venue, hoping it might help me kick the writer’s block. He gave me a list of options and…I picked this one.”
“Magic,” Hope whispered, threading their fingers together and stepping closer.
“Yeah,” Johnny rasped, leaning in to speak up against her mouth. “That’s what it feels like.”
Their lips met in a long, hungry kiss that made his hands itch to part her thighs, to fist her hair, to touch as much of her skin as he could manage.
When they broke for a much needed breath, they both looked around to once again find at least three dozen sets of eyes watching them like hawks. Hope went up on her toes and said in his ear, “I know somewhere we can go.”
Chapter Three
Hope had never been more aware of her posture.
Her spine was straight as an arrow as she drove Johnny freaking Scott toward her favorite spot on all of planet earth. Although, he’d stopped being just Johnny the rock star, hadn’t he? In a short space of time, he’d gone from larger-than-life music god to…a man—albeit a stupidly gorgeous and sexually charged man who wasn’t even trying to hide his hot perusal of Hope from his sprawl in the passenger seat. Her breath ran short, skin tingling with awareness as she turned off the road, into the open field she’d been coming to since leaving the home. It was the perfect place to escape, and an escape seemed to be exactly what Johnny needed.
Johnny Scott had writer’s block. It was almost impossible to believe. The media, his fans—the world—portrayed him to be a flawless wizard of lyrics and performing. And he was. But now that he’d confided in her about his struggle with the spotlight, she could see the cracks in the beautiful façade. There was something inside of Hope, something fierce and undeniable, that wanted to fill in those cracks and make him whole again.
Could she get close enough to this man to accomplish that…and then watch him fly off on an airplane tomorrow? A pit yawned wide in her stomach. Even after less than an hour in his presence, she knew missing him was unavoidable. How would it feel to watch him leave after she’d spent the night with this man and given him a part of herself she’d never considered giving to someone else?
“You’re nervous again, Hope,” came his low voice from across the car.
“No, I’m not.” She flexed her fingers on the steering wheel. “Fine. Maybe a little.”
“Did you tell your brother you were with me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Hope winced, remembering the terse exchange she’d had with Wyatt via text message before she’d switched her phone to silent. “Not sure he feels that way.”
Johnny shifted in his seat and turned his attention to the open landscape spreading out around them. It was close to midnight, but the moon was full, lighting up their surroundings like the world’s biggest spotlight. “He’s overprotective of you?”
“That’s an understatement.” Pressing her lips together, she regarded him out of the corner of her eye. Johnny had opened up to her about his battle with the pressure of fame. Didn’t he deserve to have her confidence as well? “A lot of my brother’s protectiveness comes from guilt, I think. I became a ward of the state after my parents…lost their battles with addiction.” Johnny turned sharp eyes on her. “Wyatt left home as soon as he turned eighteen and joined the Army. I was fourteen at the time. He was still overseas when I was taken from my parents. He didn’t know until he got home that I’d been placed in a home. It took him a while to get custody and he’s constantly moping about it.”
“God, Hope…I’m so sorry.” Johnny let out a long breath. “Were you safe there?”
She smiled at him, though it wobbled. “Yes. Lonely sometimes, but safe.”
He watched her for several seconds. “Here I am complaining about writer’s block and too much notoriety when you’ve probably been through actual hell.”
“Problems shouldn’t be something we compare or rate from easy to hard. Everyone’s problems are valid to them and that’s what matters.” Hope pulled the car to a stop beside the single angel oak tree where it sat in the middle of the open field, miles of open space stretching out on every side. “Your songs got me through my hard times. Maybe it’s only right I help you now, like you helped me then.”