Free Outlaw Country by Davida Lynn Page A

Gracie could hear the difference in his voice. She’d never heard him sound humble before. She imagined it would be like seeing him in a three-piece suit, different but good.
    He went on, saying “You’re right, too. Only ever think about myself. Never really had anybody else to think about, to be honest. Until Kitt got out of rehab, that is. I know that’s no excuse. I guess I have a band to think about, but honestly? They take better care of me than I take of them. Gracie, I’ll be honest with you. I drink too much. I party too much. I don’t take life seriously.”
    Gracie let a little of her own wit out. “This is quite possibly the worst apology I’ve ever heard, Colton Wade.”
    “Well, shit, little miss.” A tension-breaking smile grew on Colton’s face. “If you let me fuckin’ get there.”
    He stared at her for a few seconds, but Gracie wasn’t going to interrupt. He gave a slight nod, and went on, “Even when you and me was in the studio. I wasn’t takin’ it seriously. I was so hung over I could barely see straight. And then there’s you. Gracie Hart. Professional, on time, classy. Colton Wade’s antithesis. Betcha didn’t know Colton’s got a few ten dollar words in his back pocket.”
    Giving Gracie and over-the-top wink, Colton smiled again. Gracie rolled her eyes at his wink, but he knew when he was winning somebody over.
    “I want to be like you.”
    She gave a confused look, her head moving side to side. “What do you mean?”
    “I want to be those things. I want to be professional, on time, somewhat classy.”
    “Well, having a shirt on when you answer the door is a good start.” Gracie had tried to ignore his ripped chest as they spoke. She had noticed it when she’d been furious, but the fury was quickly melting away. Her eyes were on the swirling lines inked into his skin, and she was finding it harder and harder to be mad.
    Colton laughed and looked behind him toward the bedroom. “Sure thing. Sure thing.” He was about to stand up when Gracie stopped him.
    “No, don’t worry about it.” Gracie’s reply had been too quick, too eager. She knew it, and he knew it, too. Her voice had been too high. And blood rushed to Gracie’s cheeks. Better than between my legs, she thought.
    The badboy country singer leaned back into the soft couch, any bit of humility gone. “Your wish is my command. Look, here’s the deal. I’ve got a past. I’ve got a recent past, as TMZ was so quick to point out. That’s just what it is, though. It’s the past.”
    Colton’s words were powerful. Gracie could hear the sincerity in his voice, and she knew he regretted his mistakes. Like any good songwriter, he was good with words, and he was good at swaying people. Gracie decided he was almost charming.
    “I’m done fucking around, Gracie. If you’re the last woman on earth who I fuck, I’ll die happy.”
      Almost charming.
    Colton’s words came out of nowhere and set Gracie on fire. Even when she was angry with him, her passion was real. If it hadn’t been for her mother, they might’ve gone all the way by the lake. Even while afraid, Gracie wanted him. As she sat across from the sexy singer, she chose to play along with his little game.
    “Is that a fact? Are you sure you want to make that claim? After all, we haven’t actually fucked yet.” Gracie had never said such bold things. In her mind, she always made love. It was always sweet and passionate. At least, until she’d met Colton. He wasn’t the type to make love, and he was anything but sweet.
    One side of Colton’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Yet?”
    Gracie’s heart raced as she tore her eyes away from Colton’s chest. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, she was looking at the bedroom just beyond him. She was as ready as she was ever going to be.
    Standing up, Gracie decided there were no more words. There were only two people, a hotel room, and years of sexual frustration.

    Colton knew that look. He’d seen it