The Rockin' Country

Chapter 3

The two of them found themselves seated in a booth a little while later, both having ordered from the menu.

"I can't believe that I can get fried chicken and moonshine at the same restaurant. The guys are going be so pissed I didn't invite them," Garret said as he took a picture of the menu with his phone.

"Are you sending that to them?" Hannah asked, taking a sip of her sweet tea.

"Yeah, and I'm putting it on Twitter. If people can figure out where I am, then they'll know where we're doing the secret show tonight," he grinned.

"Secret shows? I've never done anything like that before."

He nodded and held up a finger while he hit a few buttons on his phone. "There. Posted. Hopefully we can fill the arena. That's always the goal with these secret shows."

"I'm intrigued," she admitted.

"We tour a lot, but it's still not enough all the time. There are still kids who don't get to come out because asshole scalpers buy a good portion of the tickets and sell them to the highest bidder. In markets that we don't always get to...usually the south and along the eastern seaboard, we do these secret shows. We only promote a few hours in advance, like I'm doing right now. But you'd be surprised how many fans find out and make it here. I'm assuming people are going to be looking for us to be in Nashville since it's all the rage we're 'dating' and all."

Hannah giggled and blushed. "My mom actually texted me to find out who you were. She was all 'I know we haven't met him before'."

"My mom did something like that too. I had to explain to her that we just took a picture for some reporters. Of course, now I'm sure there will be something about it since we're in Nashville tonight and the two of us are at lunch, but this was planned a few months in advance."

At that moment, his phone started blowing up with sounds. "Twitter," he explained. "Looks like the kids know where we are."

It amused her, the way he called fans the kids. "Are none of your fans your own age?"

"Are you calling me old?"

She shook her head. "I thought you were twenty-nine," she admitted. It was embarrassing to admit she knew as much as she did about him. "At least that's what I've read. It's just you're calling your fans kids, is throwing me off."

Garrett liked watching her squirm. It was obvious she didn't want to offend anyone, much less him. "I am going be thirty this year, but I feel older than that as far as worldly experiences go, so I tend to call the fans kids. Granted, they are normally younger than me, but there are a lot the same age and a few years older."

"You are an old man compared to me." She lifted her eyebrows, teasing him as she took a bite of the food that had been delivered to them.

"Ouch." He put his hand over his heart. "That kinda hurts. How old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"That was a good year," he grinned, his eyes getting a far off look. "I dated a Playboy Playmate for a few months, and wow was that a crazy time in my life."

Hannah threw an unused napkin at him. "Seriously?"

"I don't have a filter; you'll learn that about me."

"I will?" she questioned. "You're assuming I'll see you again after this?"

He had the decency to squirm in his seat this time. "Well I figured, you have my number now, I have yours. We could be text, Twitter, f******k, and ** buddies. I already follow your ** anyway."

"Really?"

"Hey, I'm a tech savvy kinda guy. I do all that stuff."

She wiped her mouth. "No, I mean why do you follow mine?"

He lifted a shoulder up and ducked his head slightly. "I've always thought you were kinda cute."

Hannah didn't know what to say to that, she was used to people telling her that she was cute, sexy, beautiful, and pretty - but they were all in the way you described someone that you looked up to. This man was her equal. "Well thanks; I've always thought you were too."

"But you're not following me on **," he pouted, pushing out his bottom lip.

She couldn't help the giggle that erupted from deep within her throat. "You're a mess."

"Is that a southern saying?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"I guess so, I've never heard anyone else besides fellow southerners use it."

He wrinkled his nose, and a smile spread across his face. "Kind of like how 'bless your heart' is southern for 'f**k you'?"

"Oh my goodness," she opened her mouth. "Not at all."

"Have I embarrassed you?"

She primly folded her hands in front of her plate, pushing it back now that she was done with it. "I just don't like that word."

"What word?" The way he bit his bottom lip told her he knew exactly what word she was talking about.

"The 'f' word."

"Oh, Hannah, you are going to be so much fun to corrupt," he laughed, reaching over to grab her hand. "Please give me a chance to do it."

She couldn't answer that question truthfully. Did she really want to be corrupted? What would that entail? "We'll see."

Throwing caution to the wind, he kicked his leg out a little so that his foot touched hers. It caused her to lift her eyes so that they could see each other. "Let me start tonight? Come to our show...you're a fan right?"

He had a point. She was a fan and hadn't ever been able to make it to a show. "Do I get a backstage pass?"

Was she flirting with him right now? This woman was an enigma, and he wanted badly to figure her out, learn what made her smile, and learn what made her tick. "If you promise to be there."

"Then I'll be there. Should I wear my shirt that says Mrs. Reaper on it?" she asked, and he spit out the drink he had just taken.

"You have one of those shirts?"

The look on his face was worth the embarrassment of admitting that she did in fact have one. "I do. Along with one that reads 'Black Friday Groupie'...I just normally sleep in them."

For some reason, since she slept in them, he didn't want anyone else to see her in those shirts. Not until he could publically and privately make a claim on her. "Tell you what; I'll have something sent to you."

"Sent to me?"

"It's a prototype, but I think it'll fit you well. You can either pick it up when you show up tonight, or I can have it sent to your house."

"You can send it to my house. After all, you're gonna have to drop me off."

She had a point and he was very curious about where she lived.

Garrett checked his watch and whistled. "I hate to do this, but I have to go. I gotta get my workout in before the show, and we have a few radio stations calling in. I'll have just enough time if I take you home soon."

"I understand." She reached into her purse to grab her wallet.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked as he saw her taking some bills out.

"Paying for our meal. I invited you here," she explained. She didn't want to tell him that she didn't know how to classify this. Had it been a date? Were they supposed to pay for their own portion of the meal? It was the part of dating she had never been sure about. Of course it didn't help matters that she had gotten her record deal the summer she turned eighteen.

"Put that s**t away, you're hurting my manhood. No guy with the sense that God gave him would let a beautiful woman pay for a meal when he had the time of his life." He closed his hand over hers, pushing it back towards her purse. "I got this. It's the best time I've had in a long while, and it was my pleasure to have lunch with you."

Hannah felt her stomach flip from the words he spoke and the smile he bestowed upon her. "Okay then, next time will be my treat?"

He liked that. She was talking about a next time. "Sure thing."

* * *

"It's about time you made it home," Shell yelled as she heard Hannah make her way into the house.

"Sorry that took so long, but we were having a great time. In fact, I'm going to their secret show tonight at the arena."

"Yeah, they just talked about it on the radio. They said he put a picture up from the menu to the diner and everybody figured out where they are tonight. They're starting to line up," she explained as she sat at the counter, reading the magazine the two of them had bought at the grocery. "So, tell me...how was it?"

"Different from what I'm used to. He's a nice guy though - he's sending over a backstage pass for me tonight and a shirt to wear. I'm kinda nervous, but I'm excited at the same time."

Shell looked at her friend. There was a glow there that hadn't been there in a while. Since an asshole had taken the light out of her. "Just be careful, Hannah. I don't want to see you hurt again."

I'm trying to take this slow, but there's just something about him. He makes me feel like everything is gonna be alright."

"Just tell me that you're going into this with your eyes wide open. His lifestyle, his music, his whole being is completely different than yours," Shell cautioned.

"I know," Hannah nodded. "Maybe that's what I like about it. That my whole life won't be tied up with his because we don't live in the same city and because he doesn't do the same music as me. I won't have to worry if we decide to stop seeing each other that I'll see him every time I go down to Broadway."

Both of them knew that she was referencing her relationship that had ended badly over a year ago. It was still a sore subject with Hannah, and she, for the most part, refused to speak of it. Shell still wasn't exactly sure what had transpired - only knew that it had caused an ache so deep in her friend that it had taken her spark away. That spark was back now, and she would help her do anything to keep it there.

The doorbell rang and Shell moved to answer it. "Want me to get it?"

"If you want to. You know you don't have to do everything for me."

"Yeah, yeah," Shell shook her head as she answered the door. "Can I help you?" she asked the courier on the doorstep.

"I have a package here for Harmony from Reaper

"Yeah, I'm Harmony's assistant. I'll sign for it."

Within moments the package was in the kitchen and on the counter.

"I'm nervous to open it," Hannah admitted as she looked at it. She had her thumb in her mouth, worrying her nail with the sharp edges of her teeth.

Shell giggled. "Why? You afraid it's gonna bite you?"

"No, but it's like if I accept this gift from him and go to this show, it moves everything along."

"Well that's what you want right?"

"I just don't want to get in too deep, too fast."

"Hannah," Shell shook her head. "He's leaving tonight or tomorrow, and by then you'll know if you want it to continue or not, but you have got to start living your life again. Why not start here and now? If you don't want to wear whatever this is, you don't have to. If you don't want to go to this show tonight, you don't have to."

Hannah knew that her friend was right, but her hands still shook as she opened the package. Inside lay a couple of backstage passes and a black shirt. On the front was a picture of Garrett's face with the words 'Reaper's Girl' below it. The back was shredded so that whatever was worn underneath could be seen.

"That's sexy," Shell giggled. "I can't wait to see you, of all people, wear that."

Included were a pair of sunglasses that matched the ones Garrett wore on stage. "Are you making fun of me?" Hannah asked.

"No, I'm just saying modest little ole Hannah is gonna have a hard time wearing something where her bra can be seen, and I can't wait to see how you pull this off."

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Hannah mumbled. "He did say he was going to have fun corrupting me."

Shell slapped her hand on the counter and laughed loudly. "Oh dear God, this is going to be so much fun to watch."