Silver James - Billionaire Country

Pulling his thoughts back to the woman driving his car, Tucker noticed Zoe was squirming in her seat. He surreptitiously searched the map app on his phone. “Can you last five more miles?”

Zoe glared at the speedometer then scowled as they passed a speed limit sign. The little car sped up. A lot. Tucker choked off a laugh. Less than five minutes later, she braked to a sliding stop at the travel mart just off I-40. She got the stick shift in Neutral, heaved out of the seat and waddled inside. Zoe wore such a determined look on her face that men scrambled out of her way. Tucker waited until she was out of sight and then he burst out laughing. Several people walking past the T-Bird stared at him. He didn’t care. He’d been totally charmed by his hitchhiker.

By the time Zoe returned, Tucker was sitting in the driver’s seat. He started to get out to hold the door, but she waved him off.

“I may be as big as a small barn, but I’m not helpless. The day I can’t open my own door, I’ll be flat on my back in a coffin.”

“Yes, ma’am, if you say so.”

“Are you makin’ fun of me?”

“No, ma’am. Not me.”

She gave him a narrow-eyed scowl. He just managed to keep his face averted so she couldn’t see the grin teasing his mouth. Too cute. Even pregnant with swollen ankles and a small bladder, she was too cute. “I’m taking the interstate so we’re about two, two and a half hours from Nashville. You gonna need to stop again?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. It depends on Baby Bugtussle.” She suddenly sat up straighter and blew out a slow breath. “Swear to the angels above this child is gonna be a placekicker for the University of Tennessee Volunteers.”

Tucker glanced past her, watching traffic, before pulling out onto the highway. “Do you know what it is?”

“Etta Smithee is convinced it’s a boy.”

“You haven’t had an ultrasound?”

“I’ve had three. The little dickens gives the camera its butt. Not one scan has shown this child’s privates. If I had a nursery, I’d have to paint it lavender.”

“Lavender?”

“Yup. Mix pink and blue. Makes lavender.”

“How about green? That seems like a neutral color.”

“Nope. Baby Bugtussle has done stepped on my last nerve. Gonna paint everything lavender. Then if it is a boy, he can just explain things to his friends.”

“Why not just name him Sue?” Tucker muttered.

Zoe laughed and launched into a few measures of Johnny Cash’s “A Boy Named Sue.” She offered a raucous rendition of the song. The part of him always on the lookout for new talent picked up something in her voice, but she stopped singing before he got a handle on just what he heard. He realized her voice made him think of moonlight and rumpled sheets, of a man and a woman entwined in the dark. He liked the vision in his head—probably a little too much.

They didn’t talk. At highway speed, the wind blew away their words. Zoe gathered her hair in one hand to keep it from whipping around her face. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, which surprised him. He caught himself watching her almost as much as he kept his eyes on the road. Her voice and laugh burrowed their way into him, as did the hint of uncertainty and sadness he sensed behind her good humor. The way her high cheeks complemented the line of her jaw, the curve of her throat as she arched her head back... She was far too attractive for his own good. He found himself lost in contemplating her face. Until he glanced down to the rounded bulk of her pregnant belly. That was like taking the ice bucket challenge every time.

They hit the outskirts of Nashville just over two hours later. Traffic thickened as they approached the east side. He needed to know where to drop her, so he asked. She took her time answering, and Tucker watched the lighthearted mask she hid behind slip a little. She finally asked to borrow his phone, only she didn’t make any calls. Her thumbs flew over the screen as she texted someone. Then she waited, eyes glued to his phone.

When she didn’t give him directions or an address, he took the exit for downtown Nashville and headed to the restored fire station that now housed Bent Star. His passenger looked up as the car rolled to a stop at Second Ave.

“Where are we?” Zoe’s forehead crinkled as she gazed around.

“I’m headed to my office unless you have someplace else in mind?”

She tucked her chin and shook her head. “No. Not really. I texted a friend of mine, but he hasn’t replied yet. I was going to camp out on his couch.”

Tucker didn’t like the idea of this male friend of hers. Which was ridiculous. Except he liked Zoe and was worried about her being stuck in Nashville all alone. He didn’t say anything until he pulled into the parking lot at Bent Star and cut the T-Bird’s engine. With both hands on the steering wheel, he slid his eyes her direction but didn’t look at her full-on. “Do you have another place to stay, Zoe?” She lifted a shoulder, head still down. “I can take you to a hotel.”

“I’m good,” she insisted. “Don’t put yourself out. I’ll just head to my friend’s.” He watched her shoulders slump in a defensive move. “Can I get my stuff from the trunk?”

“Sure.” He slipped out of the car and retrieved her guitar case and duffel. He carried both around to the passenger side and after watching her struggle for a long moment, set down the bag and extended his hand. “Here. For leverage,” he added when she scowled at him. Once she was out of the car, she slung the straps of the duffel over her shoulder, handed him his phone and clutched her guitar case.

“Well, thanks for all the help and stuff. Sorry for getting you caught up in all my drama.” She offered a wan smile, turned away and started walking.

Tucker glanced down at his phone and noticed a reply text. “Well, crap,” he muttered. His mother would disown him if she ever found out he let a down-on-her-luck pregnant girl just walk off into the sunset. “Zoe!”

* * *

She kept walking, picking up speed when Tucker yelled her name. If she could get downtown, she might find one of the clubs with an open mic night where she could sing for tips or something. That would get her a room until she could reach the guy she’d hoped to stay with.

Pounding steps echoed behind her, then a warm hand settled on her shoulder, halting her.

“Your friend texted back.” He held out his phone so she could read it. “He’s out of town, touring with a band.” She closed her eyes to hide the tears prickling there. Just once she wished things could go her way. She felt wrung out, and so tired she hurt all over.

“You don’t have any other place to go, do you?” Tucker’s voice sounded full of compassion. She hated that he might pity her but before she could make up something, he continued. “And I’m betting you don’t have much money, either.” He tugged the duffel off her shoulder and hefted it over his own. Then he relieved her of the guitar case. “C’mon. I have a couple of things to take care of at the office. Then we’ll go eat something and figure out things from there.”

“Look, you don’t—”

“Yeah, I do. I’m not going to just dump you out on the street, Zoe. I wasn’t raised that way.”

They walked back to the redbrick Victorian building. Once upon a time, it had been a firehouse. There was no sign to designate what sort of business occupied the space. Tucker hadn’t mentioned what he did for a living. Given the expensive boots and the classic car he drove, he had money.

He held the front door for her and ushered her inside. He could do...almost anything. Lawyer. Real estate. Heck, this was Nashville. He could be in the music business. The reception area had a country-western feel with lots of leather furniture and barn wood with a logo shaped like a Texas Ranger’s star behind the desk.