Silver James - Billionaire Country

Moments later, he was settled behind the wheel. “I’m Tucker,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Zoe.” She eyed his hand while weighing the risk of touching him. Her palm all but itched to feel his skin. She gave in to temptation and they shook. His palm was warm and dry. But those were not little tingles racing up her arm. Nope. Definitely not.

“Should I ask where the groom is?” He gave her a sideways glance as he started the T-Bird. And didn’t that sweet engine purr pretty? He pulled out onto the rural highway.

“Nope. Let’s just say our nuptials weren’t meant to be.” She grabbed the veil and tossed it over her head. She watched it through the side mirror and laughed when it draped across the firebird graphic on the hood of the Trans Am.

He cut his eyes her direction for a moment. “Cold feet?”

“Good sense.” She flashed what she hoped was a reassuring smile in his direction.

“Okay.” He dragged the syllables out.

She smoothed down her dress even more, grimacing at the miles of material. “You wouldn’t happen to have some scissors? Or maybe a knife or something sharp?” The man—Tucker—glanced her way again so she explained, fluffing up the copious amount of material in her lap. “I want to cut some of the superfluous crap off this thing.”

“No, sorry. Nothing that would work on that dress.”

Zoe wanted to explain she hadn’t picked out the dress, like this guy would care about her tastes in clothing. Still, she wanted him to think well of her. They rode in silence as miles passed. Fidgeting, she said, “You aren’t from around here.”

Tucker grinned. “Oklahoma originally. You?”

“Smoky Mountains, mostly, but I’m ready to get out and never look back.” That was the truth. She sighed, wishing she’d dug her sunglasses out of her bag, and added under her breath, “One of the biggest mistakes I ever made was goin’ to Gatlinburg to sing at that bar.”

She glanced at Tucker, who was still watching her from the corner of his eye. She wanted to bite her tongue. Zoe knew exactly the picture she presented, and this guy had money and class stamped all over him.

“So you’re a singer?”

Zoe hid her discomfort with a shrug. “Yeah, I am. And some days—” she tossed him her cheekiest grin “—I even get paid for it.”

Zoe smooshed down some of the skirt between her thighs and squiggled her legs, still attempting to get comfortable. The silence returned. After several minutes, she glanced over at Tucker. He was casting surreptitious looks her way—only he wasn’t checking out her face. Nope. He’d finally noticed her rounded belly.

Tucker cleared his throat, opened his mouth to speak, and evidently thought better of it because his jaw clamped shut. Zoe decided silence wasn’t so bad. The man lasted all of five minutes.

“So, it was a shotgun wedding?”

“You could say that. Only it was my head they were holdin’ the gun to.”

He slammed on the brakes and her hands flew to the dash to brace her body. “What? What’s wrong?” She swung her head back and forth looking for whatever emergency caused him to stop.

“Sorry! Sorry,” he repeated, swiveling in the driver’s seat to face her. “Please tell me that was...a euphemism. Or a joke. Or something.”

“I wish I was jokin’.” He scowled at her. “Hey, I didn’t plan on my life takin’ this detour.” She shrugged. “I will admit, however, t’bein’ young and dumb at the time.”

“And now?”

“Older and wiser. Gettin’ ready to have a kid and watchin’ my life turn into a bad soap opera will do that to a body.”

Tucker glanced at her rounded belly. “Yeah? And you figured all this out when? All of...what, eight months ago?”

“About that.” Zoe pressed her lips together, wondering how far she could trust this stranger. “My life is a tad crazy, Tucker. I figure the best I can do is grin and bear it. You know, laughter bein’ the best medicine and all?”

“Don’t you have family to help?”

She curled her lips between her teeth and bit down. Her eyes burned, and she looked away so he wouldn’t see. The compassion she saw in his expression was about to undo her. “Don’t have any family t’speak of. There’s just me.”

“I...wow.” He looked surprised. “I can’t imagine what that would be like. I have a huge family.”

A big family? There’d only been Zoe and her dad. “Lucky you.”

His smile was warm and fond. “Until they get all up in my business.”

Zoe felt a sharp twinge. Grimacing, she pressed her palm against her side.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just those Briggs & Stratton things.”

He looked confused, opened his mouth to speak, then pressed his lips together for a moment. He eventually asked, “Don’t you mean Braxton Hicks?”

Eyes twinkling, she tilted her head, pretending to think about it, because of that whole laughter-being-the-best-medicine thing. She went for the cheap laugh. “Braxton Hicks. Doesn’t he sing at the Grand Ole Opry?”

Two

Tucker hadn’t missed the sheen of moisture in her eyes or her attempt at humor. From the white cowgirl boots to the froth of tulle and lace, she looked like a refugee from a hillbilly comedy show, but in her case, the clothing didn’t define the woman hiding behind the caricature. In their short time together, he’d seen determination, warmth and an effervescent spirit. He admired the first and as a man, could appreciate the rest. He also sensed she was far more lonely than she wanted anyone to know. Given her circumstances? Totally understandable. He decided to play along. For now. “Ah, no,” he said, hiding a grin. “Braxton Hicks are like false labor.”

“No, really?” she said dryly, giving an exaggerated roll of her eyes. A moment later, she tilted her head to study him from under creased eyebrows. “How would a man like you know somethin’ like that? You married?” He caught her checking out his left hand where it lightly gripped the steering wheel.

Biting back a bark of laughter, Tucker shook his head. Settling down was the last thing on his mind. “Nope. But that big family I mentioned? I have brothers and cousins. Some are married with kids.” And his cousin-in-law Jolie, a nurse, had schooled everyone on the stages of pregnancy and birth when his Barron cousin Kade and wife, Pippa, went through the process. His gaze strayed to Zoe’s belly again. Her hands were laced over it and he found the gesture...sweet.

Tuck eased off the brake, realizing he’d stopped in the middle of the road. Good thing there wasn’t any traffic. “So tell me something.” He glanced at her, waiting until she faced him to continue. “Were you serious about it being a shotgun wedding?”

An expression he couldn’t immediately decipher flickered across her face. She shifted to stare out her side of the car, and he thought she’d ignore his question. Then he heard her sigh.

“That there would be a very long story. Are you sure you wanna wade around in my can of worms?”

And that there was a good question , he mused. By stopping and picking her up, he’d dived headfirst into her mess, and to be honest, his curiosity was getting the better of him. “It’s a long drive to Nashville. We’ve got time.”

“Well, sir, you’ve asked for it. Question becomes, where should I start?”

“The beginning always works for me.”

“True, that. So...about nine months ago, I was singing my way from honky-tonk to roadhouse, and one night, I was fillin’ in as a singer for the house band at Shooter Jake’s.” She looked his way to see if he was following along. “You’ve heard of it?”

He nodded. Shooter Jake’s, in Dalton, Georgia, was one step up from a roadhouse, but the owner had an ear for music and a willingness to give talented newcomers a chance. He wasn’t going to admit precisely how familiar he was with the place. It had been Jake himself who put Tuck on the trail of the band he’d just auditioned.