"Felicia," the sister acknowledged.

  My facetious heart smiled. You could kill an army with the venom that had just been exchanged. I needed no time to mull over whose side I'd be on if the claws came out.

  Griff ignored the exchange altogether because there was no way that he missed it. He smiled at his niece, nuzzling her cheek with his nose. "Not Hannah Grace…Ornery? No way in hell."

  "Don't say hell in front of her," his sister admonished, never losing her smile. She strode right past Blondie, walking so close to her that Blondie had to step back so that Sister could pass, before stealing Hannah from Griff's arms. They both protested in unison. "And make yourself useful. Kennedy's things are in the back of the pick-up."

  Griff's face fell. "He sent you to do his dirty work, huh?"

  "Griff-" she warned, setting down a struggling Hannah. She reflexively pulled the girl into her side, running fingers through the shiny strands.

  Stray. That. Dirty work. Boy I was being referred to as all sorts of things. I tried to drown the sinking feeling of being a burden but couldn't. Embarrassment had become an understatement.

  If Griff wanted to respond to his sister, he didn't. Instead, he headed towards the door, patting Hannah's head gently on the way out.

  Good deal. The sooner that I got my things, the sooner I could get the hell out of here. And although I had belittled being a back-up singer the night prior, right now it seemed like the grandest career in the world. At the very least, I could switch my brain to autopilot for a while.

  "I think this is yours," his sister said. She stepped forward, fishing a phone out of her back pocket. Handing it to me, she flashed a smile in my direction. "Name's Sutter."

  I reciprocated her smile, both her and Hannah's names now registering. Griff had brought them up during his argument with Mick earlier in the day. "Kennedy Masters," I said, holding a hand out to hers.

  "Oh no, we do hugs around here," she said, pulling me in for a squeeze. "Well, most of us," she amended, her eyes shifting towards Felicia. I caught the subtle fall of her lips when her eyes landed on Blondie.

  The phone started buzzing in my hand, the screen coming to life.

  "The thing's been ringing since I got it. Some guy named Trevor. Sorry, don't mean to pry. It's just hard not to look when the things going off non-stop. I turned it on silent after about the fifth phone call on the way out here." Her lips went flat as she shrugged, shooting me an apologetic look.

  "Not a problem," I assured her. "It's my manager. I better call him back. Pretty sure I have some explaining to do," I said, waving the phone at her. "Will you excuse me?"

  "Of course."

  "Mommy, who's that?" I heard Hannah ask as I retreated from the room. "She's real pretty."

  Hannah drew the word out, her country twang making it sound more like puurrdy. I smiled. It was the nicest thing that anyone had referred to me as the entire day.

  "Trevor, hey," I sighed into the phone, appreciative of the opportunity to hear a familiar voice. I stepped out onto the front porch and into the afternoon sun, squinting as I sought a safe destination. Eyeing a huge live oak in the distance with a tire swing hanging from a low-lying branch, I headed in its general direction.

  "Kennedy, I want you to listen to me and don't freak out, okay?" he said, his voice sounding too controlled, too calm. I pictured him sweating profusely on the other end.

  This wasn't good. Everyone knew that the moment anyone told you not to freak out was the exact moment that you should. The last time that he had coined that exact phrase was when he informed me that my label hadn't liked a single song off of my demo - the demo that I was so proud of, that I'd worked so hard to create. They had crushed months of work in a little less than thirty minutes. That was precisely twenty-four hours prior to me telling one of them to screw off.

  "Trevor, you're scaring me. What's wrong?" The thudding in my ears had reached a deafening volume.

  "Any chance you've seen a copy of The Tennessean today?"

  Heat radiated throughout my body, landing squarely on my cheeks. "Trevor, I'm stranded out in the middle of Nowhere, Tennessee. So, no, I haven't seen a newspaper. Any particular reason that I should?"

  There was an excruciatingly long pause, my heart beating in melodies that I hadn't been able to produce since that botched demo.

  "Well, yeah," he said, followed by more silence. "You made front page news. Isn't that great?" His statement was thick with forced enthusiasm.

  "What do you mean?" I questioned slowly. When he didn't answer, I turned downright angry. "Trevor, if there's a fucking point here, you better make it quick. This suspense is not funny."

  "Well, I uhh…don't know how to say this," he said pausing. "Listen, just get a copy and then we'll talk."

  "Trevor-"

  "Kennedy, do what I said, okay?"

  He wanted to get off the phone because he didn't have the man parts to tell me the truth. More news that whatever I would see, wasn't good.

  "Trevor-"

  I flinched when the phone did a double-beep, signifying his disconnect from the conversation. I stared down at the device, trying desperately to suppress the unwanted emotions that bubbled to the surface. My life had changed over the course of the past twenty-four hours. No way in hell The Tennessean would do a write-up about my back-up singing abilities or my newly acquired dance skills. Nope. It had everything to do with me…and Mick…and my screwed up decision making.

  My breath hiccupped at the exact moment that my stinging eyes released the tears that they had been desperately clinging to. The conversation had just ended the longest no-cry drought known to man. I'd better call Guinness and let them know. I felt dizzy. And nauseous. I sought the trunk of the tree for stability, leaning my back against it and sliding down its length until I sat at the base. I allowed myself to cry, tears streaking down my cheeks.

  I was so messed up - seriously in need of a life transformation. Jesus, what was I going to do? I bit at my cheek, trying to control my tethered emotions.

  "Mamma says that everyone deserves a good cry," Hannah said softly from somewhere behind me.

  I released a chuckle, wiping at my cheeks to look over at her through blurry eyes. "What else does your Mamma say?" I asked, forcing a smile at the beautiful blue-eyed child.

  "She says that you shouldn't go putting your nose in other people's business," Griff said from beside her.

  He had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, somehow managing to make his way out to me without his leech. The sleeves of his button-down had been rolled to just below the elbow, exposing tanned forearms with hair that matched the strands on his head and bands of muscle that screamed I was earned through hard labor. Griff epitomized the gritty, gruff, hardworking male - like he should be the representative for a brand like Wrangler or Marlboro.

  "Come on, Hannah. Let's give Miss Kennedy some space."

  "I weren't puttin' my nose in no one's business," Hannah defended.

  "It's wasn't, not weren't," Griff corrected. "Now come on. Let's get back inside," he urged, a gentle hand finding the hollow of her back. He attempted to encourage her into the direction of the house, but was met with fierce resistance.

  Hannah stamped a frustrated foot onto the dry ground, stirring up a cloud of dust that whirled up around her ankles before swirling away. "I don't wanna," she managed in between a huff. Her gaze shifted towards the house and then back to Griff. "Felicia looks mad as hell."

  I choked on an unexpected snort at having heard the obscenity come from her mouth so suddenly and with such casualness. Griff gave an audible groan.

  "Hannah, how many times have I told you, you can't say that word?" he pleaded.

  "You said it," she pointed out, her argument making a lot more sense than it should considering her age.

  "You're right, I did but," Griff sputtered, still looking a little unsure as to how to handle the current situation. He squatted down, his eyes hovering as close to eye-level with his niece as his knees would allow. "Some things are meant to be said by only grown-ups," he offered as an explanation, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. "I'll try my best not to say those things if you promise me you will too."

  It seemed like a fair enough agreement.

  Hannah nodded. "I promise-"

  "Good," Griff cut in, considering the debate over.

  Hannah held up a finger. I realized there was a stipulation coming, her face transforming as a victorious gleam crept up behind her otherwise innocent sky-blue eyes. I was awaiting with humorous anticipation despite the current situation. Somehow Trevor's news - or lack thereof - seemed to be momentarily pushed onto the backburner as the familial dispute played out before me. "If you promise that me and Momma and Miss Kennedy can go to the lake today."

  Felicia's name was glaringly absent and although I hardly knew her, I knew enough to know that I didn't like her.

  Griff shook his head dejectedly, knowing full well that he had just been outwitted by a child. She had backed him into a corner and he seemed at a loss for words.

  I stooped down beside them both, ignoring the rush of heat that shot to my groin when our knees touched unexpectedly and stayed glued together. "On a day as hot as this one, nothing sounds like more fun than being on a lake."

  I flashed her a smile, unsure as to why I had just made a commitment to a situation that I wanted nothing more than to distance myself from. Maybe it was because I had a complete soft spot for children - a vision of my nephew Trent coming to mind. Whatever had possessed me, it absolutely had nothing to do with the man whose knee was currently creating pesky, unwanted shots of awareness into areas that were most certainly off limits.

  "Kennedy-" Griff objected.

  His warning was snuffed out by the elated squeal that Hannah released. Frustrated eyes found me over Hannah's shiny hair. I could do little more than shrug casually at his angry face. The smolder that my shrug kicked up behind his blue eyes created an unexpected tingle to pierce straight through me. Sexy didn't even begin to describe the way that he looked when angry. I was in serious trouble. The last thing that I should be agreeing to was spending another five minutes with this man, much less an entire afternoon, but because of my stellar rationalization skills, I had already agreed and couldn't find a good enough reason to back out now.

  Hannah stood quickly, making a beeline towards the house. She stopped suddenly when she reached Miss Angry Face, speaking to her briefly before practically skipping the rest of the way across the porch and disappearing inside. I wasn't positive from this distance, but I got the distinct feeling that whatever Hannah had told Felicia, it hadn't made her happy. I'd place my bets that I had everything to do with the sour, puckered lipped glare that now donned her face.

  "I'm not sure that Blondie likes me," I mumbled facetiously, not particularly meaning to have said the statement out loud. I masked the surprise at my own misstep by throwing him another noncommittal shrug. "What?"

  "You're trouble. No wonder Mick took you to bed," he grumbled, his lips shooting into a fine, furious line. His words were meant to degrade, but all I could think about doing was pushing him up against the tree and covering his demeaning mouth with mine - more indication that my decision to agree to this afternoon was a bad one and even further proof that his accusations were true.

  "You're right. I am trouble," I agreed, frustrated again with myself and my increasingly reckless impulses. "You'd be smart to stay away from me," I mumbled, making the decision to retrace the path that had led me out there. Anything to place some distance between me, this man and my disturbing thoughts that had my mind set on a make-out session with a practically unknown who happened to be the brother to someone that I may or may not have slept with the night before.

  It was a distinct possibility that my brain was playing tricks on me, but as I walked away I could've sworn to hearing Griff say something along the lines of I'm trying, but dammit if you aren't making it difficult.

  I jogged the rest of the way to the house, taking the front steps two at a time and ignoring the searing look that was shot my way by Griff Callahan's girlfriend.

  Chapter Four

  I lay leisurely across the fold-out lawn chair that had been loaned to me by the Callahan's, trying my best to hide behind my aviators - one of the few material things that I hadn't been able to part with. There were still tears stinging my eyes, but I had made it my main focus to try out the breathing techniques that my father had taught Kole to use during matches.

  The breeze picked up, wheezing past as it disturbed the newspaper beside me. The pages fluttered open, trying desperately to stick by my side. I think, in large part, because they were evil and weren't ready to give up on humiliating me just yet. To further prove my point, the paper landed in a coil a few feet away, my face and the paper's headline - Mick's New Leading Lady - For Good or For Fun? - staring back at me, taunting me, proving that I was a horrible excuse for a mature adult who had a handle on her life.

  The article was chalked full of interesting facts about Mick, being sure to highlight his stellar life management skills and his innate ability at lovin' and leavin' 'em - hence the well thought out words used for the title. The posed question - was I more than one of his casual flings that rarely lasted more than a week or was I finally The One - wasn't answered outright, but was certainly eluded to with pictures of his past flings - all of which were model perfect looking, light-years more experienced than me at dating a famous man - and how he had managed to rid himself of them.

  I was, to them, a nobody with a pretty face, as they had yet to discover my name. But they would. They need not search very much further than what I was sure would be a very willing Mel.

  The fact that they didn't know me was yet another slap in the face, more confirmation that I hadn't really come as far as I'd like to admit career wise. Nothing says you're a nobody in this town more than making the front page news and your name never being mentioned. Worse even, was being referred to as His New Leading/Mystery Woman ten times. Yes, I had counted. Twice.

  I looked towards the small wooden pier, frowning at Felicia and her playful shriek as she dodged an approaching Griff. They were playing a riveting game of flirtatious cat-and-mouse that would no doubt end in an equally exhilarating romp in the sack. My stomach rolled in disgust.

  Too bad I couldn't remember my last time. Too bad I didn't want to. Too bad Felicia looked better in her two-piece than I had hoped. Nothing stung worse than someone you disliked looking good in a bathing suit.

  As I brought the Pabst to my lips, I took a hefty swig, intentionally forgetting about the two empties that sat by my side. Wallowing in my own sorrows seemed like a fantastic way to pass the rest of the afternoon.

  "Is this seat taken?" Sutter asked from beside me.

  I jerked my head in her general direction, a little startled at the suddenness of her presence. "No, of course not. It's your land and technically I should be offering you this chair since it's yours too," I said, trying desperately not to sound as miserable as I was.

  She chuckled softly, making herself comfortable on the ground beside me. I tried not to groan as she lifted the paper from the ground, her eyes perusing the contents - no doubt hitting the highlights. She opened it further, her fingers tapping a haphazard rhythm as she read. Snatching the top half down moments later, she eyed me from across it. "You know, you're so much prettier in person," she mused before balling the paper up and tossing it somewhere behind us.

  I took another sip of my beer before responding. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me or about me in about twenty-four hours."

  She squinted one eye, staring down the beer bottle as I took yet another sip.

  "You going to tell me that I shouldn't be drinking?" I questioned, smiling over at her half-heartedly. She shrugged and shook her head 'no'. "I only took a six-pack and I plan on paying you back. I hope you don't mind."

  "I was actually thinking that you may need something stronger," she responded, fishing something from her back pocket. She produced a miniature Jim Beam bottle, winked and then handed it over into my eager fingers. "Jim, Jack and Jose, my leading men, have all gotten me through one situation or another."

  "It helps, but somehow we always wake up the next morning with the same problems," I said, fully aware that I was having a woe-is-me moment. "I'm not sure that I need it, but I certainly want it," I added, wrapping my fingers around the tiny bottle. I fought off the urge to gulp it down, using it instead as a stress ball, squeezing it tight every time I felt the urge. My forearm got tired after a few minutes of my workout and I sighed, reluctantly extending my hand back towards Sutter. "You know what, you better take this. It's what got me into this mess in the first place. I better not," I said, more out of an effort to convince myself than her.

  "He's not as bad as they make him seem," she said after a few moments of silence. I looked over at her, surprised at her admission and wondering exactly where she was headed with her wayward comment. "Maybe a little misguided," she offered, "and sometimes immature, but he has a good heart," she said softly, smiling past me.

  You could see the love that she had for Mick, almost motherly, and the connection that seemed to exist between the two of them. It made me long for Kole and the family that I rarely got to see. And for the father that didn't know me, that didn't care, that probably never would.

  "I believe you," I whispered, feeling as if she needed to hear it.

  "And I expect you aren't half as bad as the other women that are plastered across that page."

  I smiled, although I wasn't sure why. Being only half as bad wasn't really good either - which meant she still had her reservations about me. Rightfully so. She didn't know me any more than I expected that she knew any of them, but she seemed to like me more than Felicia and, at the moment, that made her more of a friend than I'd had in some time.

  "I didn't mean for this to happen - any of it," I clarified. "You - or Griff - don’t' have to believe me, but it's true." I wasn't sure what possessed me, but something inside made me want for Sutter to not only know this, but to believe it. "And I'm sorry that I've put you guys in this situation. It must be awkward…A stranger, landing in your lap."