Hillbilly Rockstar (17 page)

"Trace, hasn't Molly done well this season? Despite a rocky start, she's become the show's most popular performer."

"She's done well, Michelle." Trace stuck to the teleprompter wording for now, not wanting to take anything away from Molly. But he knew Michelle's next lines were going to change everything up.

"Trace, before we say goodnight, I heard a rumor that you've been seeing someone. Someone special?" Michelle put her hand on her hip and faced him.

"Yeah, she was pretty special. But we had a fight last week and I don't think she wants to see me again."

What were they doing? Lisa wondered. She looked around, seeing confused looks on the director and crew, but the audience seemed to be loving the banter.

"Why wouldn't anyone want to see you anymore? You're Trace Harper. You're gorgeous and talented and wonderful. Ain't that right ladies?" Michelle cocked her ear toward the audience and the crowd went wild. Lisa saw the director near the camera man on the front row, frantically moving his arms, trying to tell them to stop, cut whatever they were doing. Whatever it was, both Trace and Michelle were ignoring the man's gestures.

The yelling from the women in the crowd calmed as Michelle walked to the side of the stage and returned with Trace's guitar.

"Is there something you'd like to say to this special person?"

"Yes, I believe there is." He took the guitar, and slung the strap over his back. As he hit the first chord, Lisa gasped as he started walking towards her, singing.

###

"I loved you the first time I saw you in boots,

I didn't tell you, didn't see the use.

But now that you're gone, baby, my only excuse is --

I'm an idiot."

Trace walked to the edge of the stage and knelt, looking directly at her. Everyone around them was laughing and cheering. Lisa couldn't help but laugh as well as he sang to her.

"I have to remember

I've got a temper

And sometimes it gets the best of me.

I don't behave at my best,

And run off pounding my chest,

Not seeing what others can see --

Babe, I'm an idiot."

Trace reached out his hand and motioned for Lisa to come closer. She stepped towards to the stage, still laughing at the words to his song. Security closed around her, keeping the rest of the crowd back. Lisa looked up on the stage and everyone else faded from view. There was only her, Trace, and the music.

"I'm an idiot in love,

And I needed a shove

So I could be a better me.

I just needed some time,

To dream up this bad rhyme."

Trace paused, and the music stopped. The crowd roared in his silence. Lisa couldn't stop laughing. Happiness and joy bubbled within, threatening to overflow.  

"Babe, will you be an idiot with me?"

Trace finished the song with a slow strum on the guitar. The crowd went crazy, cheering and laughing and applauding. Trace reached out his hand and Lisa took hold, climbing up a large speaker before being able to reach the stage. Trace slung his guitar around his back, took her in his arms, and kissed her. Lisa's legs wobbled and she sagged against him. Her arms snaked around his neck, holding him tight. She kissed him back between spurts of laughter.

"So is that a yes?" Trace asked.

Laughing, she kissed him again.

Chapter Twenty-Two

With the crowd still going wild, Lisa and Trace exited the stage, not stopping until they reached a semi-quiet location in the hallway.

"You still love me? Even after everything that happened." Lisa couldn't stop smiling. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she couldn't stop touching him. She caressed his face, ran her hands up and down his arms. She needed to feel him there, real and solid, in front of her.

"I love you. God help me, but I do. I want you in my life and I don't know how to not love you anymore."

Lisa laid a hand on his cheek, moved closer and embraced him. He hugged her tight, his arms around her waist. It felt wonderful to be back in his arms.

"I love you too," she whispered in his ear.  

She felt Trace's grip tighten around her body. She rained kissed up and down his cheek, his neck, his shoulder, everywhere she could reach. It was wonderful to be able to hold him again like this.

"I never want to let you go, Lisa Jenkins."

"I never want to let you go, Trace Harper."

They broke apart, but only briefly. Before she knew what hit her, Trace's lips covered hers, kissing her with abandon.

"Ahem," a sound came from behind them. They broke the kiss at the noise, but stayed close to one another, their arms still wrapped around each others' waists. Herb Johnson stood behind them.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. I'd like to speak to Trace for a moment."

"Mr. Johnson, of course. Trace, this is Herb Johnson, CEO of Herb Johnson Records."

"Good to meet you, sir. Anything you need to say, you can say to Lisa." Trace looked down at her and smiled. "She's my manager."

"I am?" She laughed, unable to believe everything that had happened that night.

"You are." He squeezed her hand.

"Okay, then. I like your writing. I know that song out there was meant to be funny, meant to be a joke. But that's what seems to be resonating with people right now. A fun, honest song about something we relate to. I want to hire you."

"I'm going to take a break from performing, Mr. Johnson." Trace said. "You should go after Molly or one of the other performers."

"Take a break?" Lisa asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm coming back to do the show again next season. I don’t want leave Nashville any time soon." He squeezed her closer.

"I intend to speak to Molly, but I'm not asking you to perform. I want to hire you to write."

"Write?"

"Yes, write, for my studio." Herb took out a business card, handed it to Trace.

"This was unexpected." Trace said, taking the card.

"Call me when you're ready." He handed Lisa his business card. "Now, Miss Jenkins, I'd like to speak to Molly. If she signs, I'm thinking of doing a tour next summer."

"Molly would love that. Trace, wait for me?"

"Forever," Trace said, and lowered his head for another kiss.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lisa sat in the driver's seat of the Gator watching Trace scoop out the horse feed. While she waited, she gazed down the hill at the pasture, enjoying the breeze on her face and the sunshine on her back. Their five horses stood at the fence line, eager for Trace to push the feed dishes under the fence. From the utility vehicle she could see down the rolling hills covered in grass, ready for the eager horses to eat, and the bright green shade trees that bordered the property. She shifted her gaze to the right and took in his grandparents' farmhouse, now completely remodeled.

They'd added cedar siding, a metal roof, and had the chimney rebuilt using Tennessee river rock. The house didn't look much like the farmhouse it used to be as it did a log cabin on the hill. It had been a trying four months, but the house was done. The rest of the place was coming along.

It's was peaceful and quiet, different from Nashville. She could hear the horses snorting and Trace's gentle words to them. It was a gorgeous evening in late April, and she could hear the sound of crickets and frogs as they began to sing.

"It's been a beautiful day." Lisa watched Trace push the last feed dish under the fence.

"Yeah, it has. And a beautiful view, too." Trace picked up the empty feed bucket and started back toward her.

"You're not looking at the view."

Trace smiled. "Honey, you're the only view worth looking at." She returned his smile and met his lips when he bent to kiss her. "Off to the barn, Jeeves," He joked as he swung up into the seat next to her.

"Very funny, Mister. Let's just sit here a while, okay? It feels nice right now. It's been hot for spring."

"Sure, we'll sit." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Lisa settled close to him, continuing to stare past the horses and down the rolling hillside. Trace wiggled in the seat next to her, pulling her closer.

"Moving out here was a great idea."

"One of my better ones, I think, next to getting married." He lifted her left hand and fingered the gold band on her third finger.

"Yes, that was a pretty good idea, too." Lisa thought back to their Christmas wedding at the farm. It was almost impossible to believe everything that had happened in such a short time.

She heard a snore, and Lisa looked over at their Labradors, currently snoozing in the grass near the Gator. Trace had surprised her, bringing them home for her birthday in March. They weren't quite two months old and were like kids, playing fetch, swimming in the pond, discovering the world around them.

Their five horses chewed their grain, intent on eating every bite from the dish. Lisa's favorite was Jasmine, a beautiful sorrel mare. She watched Jasmine finish eating, then try to steal food from the next dish.

She couldn't believe this was her life. It was perfect.

"Remember, Molly's coming to visit next week. We're meeting Herb and Patrick to talk about the new album and her tour with Michelle over the summer."

Trace's words broke her from her reverie.

"I remember, it's on the calendar. She's going to have fun."

"I remember my first tour. Let's hope she doesn't have
that
much fun."

Lisa sat up and gave Trace a playful swat on the shoulder, laughing, then settled back under the crook of his arm, laying her head on his shoulder.

They sat in the stillness of the late April evening, lost in their own thoughts. Dragonflies buzzed past them, horses snorted as they finished eating, the puppies snoring and wiggling as they dreamed. The late afternoon sun blanketed the rolling hills in golden light.

Not a bad life, Lisa thought, for two idiots in love.

### END ###

About the Author

Christina Routon is originally from Manchester, Georgia, and currently lives in Alabama with her family. She works from home as a general transcriptionist, which allows her time to write fiction and non-fiction as well as work on her general transcription website. A self-professed geek, she enjoys tabletop role-playing games, watching Doctor Who (David Tennant is her favorite, but Matt Smith is growing on her), and watching anything written or produced by Stephen Moffat or Joss Whedon.

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A Note from the Author

After struggling with weight loss for most of my life, I have recently been diagnosed with a  fat disorder called Lipedema along with secondary Lymphodema. This disorder affects millions of women and is typically misdiagnosed as obesity, although obesity can be present and could hide the disorder. Lipedema is genetic and causes adipose fat to collect in the legs. This fat cannot be dieted or exercised away. Usually a person with Lipedema is a smaller size on her upper body and a larger size on her lower body. Many doctors in the United States aren't familiar with Lipedema and treatments consist only of massage therapy, dietary changes and liposuction, although there is controversy over surgery for Lipedema patients. Due to lack of awareness of this fat disorder, I am donating up to 10 percent of the proceeds of all of my writing to
CureLipedema.org
, a foundation founded by Dr. Karen Herbst of San Diego, California, to help raise money for Lipedema research.