Nicole Edwards - Chasing Dreams

Listening to him chat and laugh with the fans, Tessa realized she could get onboard with this guy’s voice. Very sensual. Seductive even.

“All right, all right. I’m sure you’re tired of listenin’ to me ramble. I’ll get on with it.” The voice somehow managed to calm the group again and the deep, rusty chuckle that followed had Tessa’s head popping up. Despite her disinterest, his voice had a strange effect on her.

“This is something new I’ve been working on in my spare time. Let me know what you think,” he continued, a few brief guitar strums followed and then the crowd was eerily quiet. The sound always surprised her.

As all of the heads in the room turned to face the stage, Tessa realized they’d stopped demanding alcohol, and she shot Eric a smile, noticing he still didn’t appear ruffled. He was a patient man, she would give him that. Considering he had to put up with her best friend Izzy on a daily basis, he had to be.

Knowing he could handle what few customers they might have in the next minute or two, Tessa snuck out from behind the bar and over to the long wooden shelf along the south wall that was a catchall for empty beer bottles. Not seeing Katie anywhere, she decided to help the girl out by disposing of what she could while the masses were engrossed in the man now crooning out a slow, country love song.

Grabbing a handful of bottles, Tessa eased through a few cowboys lining the outer edges of the room to one of the large barrels used for trash. Interesting how they couldn’t seem to find it on their own, she thought to herself. Tossing the bottles in as quietly as she could, Tessa looked up, noticing the man on stage for the first time.

She couldn’t see much of his face which was in the shadow of the black Stetson sitting low on his head and covering most of his features as he looked down at the ladies in the front row. What she could see was an incredibly well developed torso, clad perfectly in a dark gray t-shirt that clung deliciously to a set of well-defined pecs.

It somewhat baffled her how many hot, well-built cowboys graced her stage week after week. A dime a dozen they were. It was just unfortunate that they all came with an ego the size of Texas and more baggage than the TSA handled in a week.

Cooper Krenshaw could’ve performed all night in a place like this. The scent of sawdust and hardwood drifted up as a handful of people at the edge of the stage began slow dancing on the cramped dance floor, making him smile as he belted out the tune, enjoying the happy faces he could see peering up from the floor below. The last time he’d played for a crowd this small had been several years back at a rodeo down in Austin which seemed like an eternity ago.

These days, his songs were blasted through amphitheaters and stages that would rival most football stadiums and they lacked the intimacy he found in a place like this. In fact, it had been his last concert in Chicago that Cooper found himself escaping as soon as his last set was complete because he couldn’t seem to shake that disconnected feeling. Without even talking to his manager, Cooper had set out on the road, nowhere bound. He hadn’t known where he was headed until he reached the Texas border. It was then that he gave his buddy Adam Dryden a call and beat feet toward Central Texas.

Having met Adam during his first year at the University of Texas, he managed to keep in touch with him through the years despite the chaotic lifestyle Cooper found himself wrapped up in. Something had clicked between them from the moment they met, and keeping in touch with Adam had given Cooper a way to ground himself to his roots. A gentle reminder of where it all started.

Their conversation hadn’t been a long one, but when Adam mentioned he was looking for some local talent to play his small town bar, Cooper found himself aching for something a bit more relaxed than an arena filled with screaming women and knew Adam’s proposal was right up his alley.

That’s how he ended up in Devil’s Bend, Texas for the last week and a half. Until tonight, he’d been hiding out at a modest motel when he wasn’t checking out the local real estate.

This small town setting was a far cry from what he was used to but undeniably more in line with where he had come from. More in line with what had sparked his interested in the early stages of his career. In his early twenties, once he was picked up by a record label, he’d been blown away by the attention and chaos, inspired by it even.

Not so much anymore.

At thirty-one, after nearly eight years on the road full time, Cooper was ready to slow down. Significantly. After just a few minutes on stage, he realized this was more his pace these days. Not that his manager would agree with him, but then again, Marcus Evergreen didn’t think he could do much thinking for himself anymore at all.

“What’d you think?” he asked the crowd when his song came to an end. The group erupted in catcalls and whistles, clapping and laughter, and the excitement seeped into his blood. Truthfully, he hadn’t felt that heart wrenching rush of adrenaline in quite some time.

Glancing around the room, Cooper made eye contact with both women and men, smiling as the group began tossing out suggestions. As was usually the case, most of the requests seemed to go back to one of his early albums, back when he had fun doing this night after night. It seemed as though some of what he’d valued was lost along the way. Probably one of the reasons he was working his way back to his roots once again.

A shrill voice caught his attention, and his eyes darted back to the area closest to the bar. Before he could pinpoint where the sound came from, his gaze had landed on a stunning blonde maneuvering her way through the swarm of people. When the woman stopped and looked up at him, their eyes met for a brief second before she abruptly turned away, fleeing deeper into the crowd. Thanks to his position on the stage, he managed to track her until she slid behind the bar, leaning up to talk to another man standing there.

“Play Cowgirl in my Dreams ,” one woman shouted from close to the stage and Cooper tore his eyes off of the mystery woman in the back, glancing over to where the request had come from.

“Yes, ma’am.” Readjusting his guitar, Cooper started the song, falling back into the music, letting himself get lost in the memories of a different time. This was what he’d been searching for these last few months. This was exactly what he was looking to find again.

Forty-five minutes later, Cooper was ready for a break. And a beer. Not necessarily in that order either.

He informed the group that he’d be back shortly, secured his guitar in an area at the back of the stage and moved down the steps. The instant his feet hit the hardwood dance floor, he was inundated with women flocking to his side, an influx of chatter making his head pound. They didn’t seem to mind that they were invading his personal space, hanging on him even as he tried to keep moving.

With a smile on his face, he worked his way through the group, trying his best to answer questions, offering a couple of hugs, posing for more than a few pictures before he finally reached the bar. He just wanted a beer. And maybe a few minutes of quiet. He wasn’t going to get the latter, but from the looks of it, the former was on its way thanks to the man behind the bar nodding in his direction.

A beefy hand clapped him on the shoulder and Cooper turned to see who it was, coming face to face with Adam Dryden.

“Hey, man.” Holding out his hand, he waited for Adam to shake it before tipping his hat slightly on his head.

“How’s it goin’?” Adam asked, having to speak louder just so Cooper could hear him.