“I think the sheriff will definitely retire if that happens,” Camden told them.
“Considering he would never be able to draw his weapon in a shootout, that may be his wisest choice,” Bryson said.
“Yeah, I don’t think Big Blue — his gun — has been shot in over twenty years,” Cam said.
“I’m sure there are cobwebs in the barrel, maybe even a few spiders’ nests.”
The men continued to banter back and forth until there was a tapping noise from the microphone. Then someone spoke. “Good evening, everyone. I hope you don’t mind if I play a few songs.”
The fork stopped halfway to Misty’s mouth, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head once she turned and looked up at the stage. Her heart was pounding.
“Uh, Mis…Magnolia, are you okay?”
She heard the words through a tunnel. This couldn’t be happening. Things like this didn’t happen to her. Not her. This kind of thing was for lucky people.
“Are you choking, honey?” Alyssa was patting her back.
“F…fi…fine,” Misty managed to stutter.
“Aw, don’t worry, boys. She’s just a bit starstruck. It happens to the best of us.” Alyssa laughed and walked away.
Misty barely heard her.
She also didn’t notice the tilting of Bryson’s eyes as he gazed at her, not entirely amused at her complete absorption with the stage.
“I can make anybody pretty…” Brad Paisley began singing his hit song “Alcohol,” and Misty didn’t hear another word from her male companions. She was fully focused on Paisley as he ran smoothly through a couple of songs. Alyssa set down Misty’s meal, and it went untouched.
When Brad jumped into “Two People Fell in Love,” Misty sighed. All the trauma from her deposition earlier in the day was forgotten as she drank in one of her all-time favorite singers. When he began a guitar solo, she just leaned back and enjoyed.
“Thanks, all. I’m going to try that meat loaf now,” Brad called out through the microphone, then hopped down from the stage, and Misty’s eyes grew round as he made his way to their table.
“Hi, Camden, Bryson. It’s been a while.” The singer pulled out a chair and turned it around before he sat, leaning against the back of it.
“Yes, it has been. It’s good to see you. How are the wife and kids?” Camden asked, after they all shook hands.
“Kim and the boys are great. I’m on my way home tonight and had to stop in here. This tour is kicking my ass. I’m definitely missing the family.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t know how that is, since I don’t have any rug rats waking me at six in the morning,” Camden said with a laugh. “Oh, this is our friend, Magnolia.”
“Good to meet you, Magnolia. You have a beautiful name,” Brad said, sticking out his hand.
She didn’t know how she did it, but her arm magically lifted and then her fingers were encased in his. “H…hi,” she managed to say without too much of a stutter. She was sitting at the same table with Brad Paisley! She’d just been introduced to him! They’d shaken hands! And everyone was treating it as if it were no big deal.
“Here’s your food, Brad,” Alyssa said, and she handed him a bag.
“Thanks, gorgeous.” The star took the bag and then stood. “Hope to see you boys again soon. You keep promising to come out in the summer.”
“Hey, the invite goes both ways, Brad.” Bryson said.
“Aw, hell, Bryson, your daddy just wants me down here so his ornery horse can buck me off again.”
“Coward,” Camden said with a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll talk to you soon.”
And then Misty just sat and stared as he walked from the room. She could now die and say she’d lived her dreams.
“Are you still in there, sweetie?” Alyssa asked with a knowing laugh.
“I…wow,” Misty said.
“Don’t worry, darling. I had the same reaction the first dozen times Brad and a few others walked through those doors. Now, I’m used to it. What you have to remember is they’re just like you and me,” she said before pausing. “Okay, maybe not just like us. He does have one killer ass.”
“Thanks, Alyssa,” Bryson practically growled. The last thing he wanted Misty thinking about was another man’s ass.
“No problem, sugar,” she said with a wink. “Here are some boxes for your leftovers, which looks like Misty’s entire meal. I don’t think I ate at all the night Blake Shelton came in. I actually cried when he got married.”
“Aren’t you just so helpful,” Bryson said with a glare.
“I do what I can,” she told him before sashaying away.
“Are you ready?” Camden asked, a persistent smirk attached to his face.
Without another word, Misty stood up, gathered her belongings and moved toward the door. This night had been…fun. She hadn’t expected to enjoy herself, hadn’t expected to have a good time. She’d assumed that she’d just be sitting there listening to the two friends talk.
Not having fun didn’t bother her — it was the story of her life. And when she didn’t expect anything good, her hopes were never dashed.
But she had ended up having one of the best nights of her life. Oh, who was she fooling? Certainly not herself. It had been the best night of her life. She floated back to the car.
The drive back to the hotel was punctuated with very little conversation. Camden turned on the radio and she sat back and absorbed the lyrics. Music had always been a solace for her, a way to sink into another world. She could pretend she was the woman the singer was speaking so fondly about, or she was the hero who got to win the day. She could be anyone she wanted to be through music or books.
It was an escape — a desperately needed escape.
When they arrived at the hotel, she clambered out of the SUV quickly before Bryson could open her door for her. She’d be able to take the gentlemanly thing for only so long before she ended up in a heap at his feet. He walked her silently to her door.
She took out her key card. “You don’t need to walk me here. I’m fine.”
“I just want to make sure the room is all clear,” he said, giving her barely nine inches of personal space.
“No one knows where I am,” she said as the door opened.
He stepped inside. “Better safe than sorry.”
“But you’re going to make Camden wait. Aren’t you going back to his place?”