“There’s nothing more to strategize at this point. The investors aren’t stupid. They deserve more than a solid explanation. They deserve the truth, and that’s exactly what I’m going to give them.”
“Fuck, Crey. The truth? That you lost your fucking mind over a piece of ass, so you married her and bought her goddamn record label because you didn’t like that they were bullying her around?”
Holly’s harshly drawn breath pierces the momentary silence before I surge across the room. My fist flies before I even consider what I’m doing. My knuckles crack against Cannon’s jaw, sending pain rocketing from my hand up my arm, but I don’t fucking care because all I want is for him to shut his goddamn mouth.
Cannon stumbles back, reaching out to the paneled wall to keep from falling on his ass. “What the hell, man?”
“You’re fired. And you’re fucking lucky I don’t kill you.”
“Creighton, wait.” Holly’s voice is quiet, but firm. “He’s clearly an idiot, but he’s your best friend.”
“Which is why he’s not dead.”
“Crey—”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Cannon.”
“No, Cannon, open it and apologize. And then maybe my husband will give you your job back.”
“No fucking way,” I say, my tone deadly serious. The man is lucky he’s still breathing. No one talks about Holly like that.
But my former best friend ignores me and shoves off the wall. Wiping the back of his hand across his face, he looks to Holly.
“I’m sorry, Holly. I apologize for running my mouth like a jackass.” When he looks at me, he says, “I’m just looking out for you, Crey. I swear, I just didn’t think. And that’s how the press is going to see it too. We just need to be prepared.”
I open my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself again, but Holly comes toward me and lays a hand on my arm.
“You can’t fire him over this, Crey. Hit him again, maybe. But then go take him out for a beer and get back to solid ground. He’s just looking out for you, and he’s been important to you for a lot longer than I have. I won’t be the reason that breaks. So, figure your shit out.”
Then she looks to Cannon. “But if you ever call me a piece of ass again, I’ll immortalize you in a song, and I promise, you will not like how it ends. And that’ll be after I take my best shot at knocking your perfect freaking teeth out.”
Turning back to me, she adds, “I’m going to go back to the penthouse now to try to finish up these songs and do damage control with Chance. I’ll be waiting when you’ve finished up your meetings. I actually feel like blowing off my diet and cooking tonight. So make sure you bring your appetite.”
She leans up on her tiptoes once more, and I decide that it’s one of my favorite moves. Her lips press lightly against mine. My hand curves around her hip, anchoring her to me.
When she lowers back down to her heels, I release my hold on her. “I’m glad you’re here, Holly. Really fucking glad.”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Her lips curl into a smile, but it’s still not quite as wide as the one I saw on her face on Country Dreams. Once this is all over, I’ll make sure she has even more to smile about.
“Is your kitchen stocked?”
I nod. “Yes, but I’ll have a car take you home.”
She doesn’t argue. “Okay, Crey. I’ll make something that’ll keep, no matter how late you get home.”
Warm contentment settles in my chest. This is an entirely new feeling for me. Working as a team, supporting each other.
“I’ll be home as soon as I can, baby.”
Her smile as she leaves the room only ratchets up that contented feeling, lacing it with determination to put this behind us as quickly as I can so we can move forward.
When the door shuts behind her, Cannon grips his jaw with his hand and cracks it. “One more meeting with the lawyers. You lay out whatever plan you’ve got. They’ll tell you it’s inadvisable. You’ll decide, fuck it, I’m CEO and therefore I can do whatever the fuck I want, and you’ll do it anyway.” He stills his movements and pins me with the blue eyes I’ve known since boarding school. “Is that about how this is going to go?”
I grin. “Yes.”
“Then let’s get it over with quickly so you can get home to the wife.”
I hold out my hand, and he shakes it. “Sounds good.”
I’m going all out tonight. Fried chicken, cornbread, baked beans, steamed broccoli, and cherry cobbler. I know, the broccoli is the odd man out, but it’s my nod at attempting to stick to my nutrition plan.
I’ve got Elle King cranked up, and I’m bobbing along to “America’s Sweetheart” when I feel him behind me. I have no explanation for it. Crey just has a presence, and apparently it’s one that my body is absolutely and completely attuned to.
“Hey, baby. Hope you’re hungry.” I lift the chicken out of the boiling oil and set it aside to drain before I turn to face him.
“Goddamn, I don’t know what smells better—you or the chicken.”
I snort. “I’m going to assume that’s a compliment and just roll with it.”
He leans down to press a kiss to my lips. “It is. And I’ll be having you for dessert.”
I haven’t had an orgasm since the one that I had during our phone sex last night. And damn—has it really only been one night? My body is wound so tight that you couldn’t prove it by me.