A Southern Kind of Comfort excerpt
Chapter One
She probably should have know that this was a bad idea. Going on a political talk show, with someone so completely different from yourself just couldn’t’ be good. Rain Meadow-her mother had a cruel sense of humor, she often thought-was the daughter of a liberal, wanna-be hippie mother, raised in a Unitarian Universalist church and played rock and roll music for sold out crowds of millions. She was born and raised in Laurel MD, not close enough to DC for politics to matter, but close enough that it took precedence over everything on the nightly news. She had definite views on religion and politics, more particularly the war and she usually kept them to herself. Rain didn’t like it when artists used their place in the public eye to tote whatever cause of the week they were supporting.
So, initially, Rain had said ‘no’ when her agent had called her. Bob Ketchum wanted her for the show. Hell no. She’d watched the show from time to time, and could only call it Jerry Springer for the middle class. Except, no one threw chairs. That might have made it more entertaining. Usually, one or more guests got into a free for all that made it desperately hard to keep track of what was going on, and Bob just sat there with a stupid smile on his face, letting it go.
Why would Rain want to be involved with that?
Well, because of Travis Culpeper, that’s why. Travis was part of the new wave of country musicians that was a combined country and rock. Hard hitting views mixed with great music and meaningful words. He told it how he saw it and that was all. He had cool blue eyes, the kind that pierced through a person, even through the glass of a tv screen. He had a no-nonsense look about him, a weathered toughness that was manly without being macho. He favored dark clothes, from the top of his cowboy hat to the bottom of his scuffed up boots. His face was long, his eyes heavy lidded, his goatee and visible hair dark blond.
He was conservative, and evangelical. And he fascinated the hell out of Rain.
She’d seen him once at a party in Nashville. She’d been with her ex-boyfriend Jason Steele at the time. In fact, that was the night Jason had become her ex-boyfriend. Asshole couldn’t keep his hands off the waitresses ass. After stalking away from him-who was now wearing most of her drink on his head-she found herself a quiet spot to simmer down. She was giving herself a good berating for letting her emotions get the best of her. Now she would be all over the tabloids the next day.
She’d heard his laugh first. Deep and rusty, it sent a chill down her spine. Rain was standing against a wall, down the hall from the bathrooms. It was almost deserted, since most people were using the restrooms in the front of the building. She was in shadow, and Travis hadn’t seen her. He was walking with another man-a man she would later recognize as the guitar player in his back up band-and they were laughing about something. She was too far away to hear the conversation, but she caught the sound of his voice. Something about it made her want to shiver and her blood started to race. She pressed herself tighter against the wall as they walked past, not wanting to be discovered.
"That girl’s got some balls, man. Dumped that drink right on his head," Travis chuckled, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up under the ‘No Smoking’ sign.
Holy shit, they were talking about her. Eep!
"That fucker, Jason, was asking for it." the other man replied. They started to move again, and Rain had to force herself to stay put.
She couldn’t fathom the reason why she felt such a swell of pride that Travis thought she had balls. Ok, not the best image in the world, especially since she so did not. But, he thought she was gutsy. Cool.
Her agent, who also happened to be her best friend, knew about her slight crush on Travis. And that was how she’d gotten talked into this nonsense. She was sitting across from him, her heart thumping in her chest and her tongue feeling as dry as the Sahara. He offered her a smile, a slow, easy going smile that belied the sharp intelligence in his eyes. She felt her heart thump even faster, and she wondered if she’d have a heart attack before the show even began. He was bigger than she’d remembered. All of six five and at least two hundred pounds. He seemed to fill the whole room, taking the space over and leaving no room for anyone else. Rain couldn’t even begin to remember the other two guests names. All her attention was on Travis.
"Good evening and welcome to Political Talk with Bob Ketchum," It had started innocently enough. Bob had introduced the subject, the Iraq war and it’s affect on the American people.
He might as well have set a bomb off in the audience.
Before Rain even really knew it was happening, she and Travis were at each other’s throats. Her nervousness at seeing him was gone in the wake of his comment that she wasn’t patriotic because she didn’t believe in the war. She tossed back that only a sheep followed without asking questions. It was her Declaration given right to ask questions and that the president damn sure wasn’t her president. She didn’t vote for him.
The other two guests only sat and watched, like she and Travis were a particularly bloody car wreck happening right in front of them. Bob attempted to interject something every few seconds or so, but he seemed just as content to let them go at each other. Two music stars at each other’s throats made for good tv. He was probably ticking up the Nielsen ratings in his head.
Rain’s blood was singing through her veins. She could feel it heating her face, rushing under her skin. Her breathing was coming in gasps, as she fought to be heard over Travis’ deep, booming voice. They were both leaning on eh edge of their seats, their bodies angling towards each other. The spacing was as such, Rain could smell his aftershave, and it only excited her further. She hadn’t been this exhilarated in years. Lust and indignation warred inside of her, until she wasn’t sure which emotion was winning. Her panties were damp, her abdomen twitching. He was passionate, intense. She thought she might come just by arguing with him.
Amazing.
"That’s all we have for tonight. I would like to thank my guests for coming tonight."
It’s over? Rain thought, disappointment blooming in her chest. It couldn’t be over.
The other two guests were already unhooking their microphones and standing up. Travis worked his microphone loose, threw it in the chair as he stood and stalked off the set without so much as a glance in her direction.
Well, fine then.
Rain was the last to pull off her microphone and stand up. Techs were already running around the set, clearing away the water glasses and Travis’ ashtray. She barely managed a smile for Bob, shook his hand and murmured some nonsensical words. She hoped it sounded something like thank you.
She wandered her way through the backstage area, past the green room and towards the back entrance where she knew her limo was waiting. She felt like a heavy weight was on her shoulders, pushing her down and making her steps sluggish. She’d been so hyped up a few minutes ago, her blood running high and her emotions surging through her like a tidal wave. She felt achy, tired. Like she’d just run a long race, and hadn’t crossed the finish line.
Her blood took off again and her heart leapt into her throat when she felt warm, strong fingers close around her bicep.
"Where’s your limo?" Travis’ Kentucky bred voice washed over her in a wave of heat. He’d leaned down to speak in her ear and the feel of his breath on her skin made her tremble.
"O-outside." She sounded breathless to her own ears. She stole a look up at him, but they were in the back of the studio, where it wasn’t as well lit so his face was hidden in shadow. She could feel the tension coming off of him in waves as he steered her towards the door.
"Where’s your security?"
"I don’t have any," He glanced down at her then, surprise on his face. "I don’t like people following me around. Tim is enough,"
"Tim?"
"My driver," Tim was as big as a tank and almost as strong. He was also loyal and extremely discreet. Both good things when there were people constantly coming after you with a camera. He had a knack for convincing them otherwise.
The door swung closed behind them with a bang. There was her car, long and black and shining bright in the street lamps over head. The front door of the limo opened and a big, dark man slid out.
"I’ve got it, buddy," Travis said, not even slowing his pace. He had the backdoor open and was ushering her inside.
"It’s ok, Tim." she managed before she disappeared into the car.
"Put the privacy window up," He slid out of his jacket-a black, leather coat that skimmed his waist-and tossed it on the opposite seat. His hat followed. Without a question, she reached up and flipped the switch. Their eyes locked in the dim interior, and Rain felt like the whole world had shrunk to the size of her limo. There was only the two of them. Excitement course over her. This was more than she had expected. This was everything she’d wanted.
COMING SOON