Page 16 of Broncos and Ballads (Healing Springs Ranch #2)

“Hey, darlin’.” Brock wrapped Venus up in a hug—the hug he’d been secretly dying to give her from the moment she’d shown up on the side stage. Somehow her presence there had charged him, giving him an extra boost of energy that the crowd had clearly felt, if their encore was any indication.

She felt as good as she looked, but he didn’t linger in holding her since they were surrounded by people everywhere on the side stage—mostly band members and stage crew.

“You were great,” she said as they pulled away from each other. The casual look in jeans and a brown leather coat suited her every bit as much as the fancy gown he’d seen her in for their date in Paris.

“I was showing off for you.”

“You might have just made me a fan.”

“Might?” He cocked a brow.

Her eyes held a playful gleam that he really liked. “Maybe a little.”

“Guess I still got some work to do to win you over.” As a fan? Or something more? He wasn’t sure if his words had a double meaning or not.

The protection agent assigned to him by the arena nudged him, the sign that it was time to make his way to the dressing room.

He didn’t ask for Venus’s permission before clasping her hand in his. It would make things easier as they walked through the busy hallways. At least, that’s what he was telling himself as he started to tug her along by his side.

He accepted the back slaps and teasing of his bandmates as he made his way off the stage. But he didn’t stop to talk to anyone—not even Harper, who had been tracking his popularity through social media responses to his performance.

All Brock wanted to do was spend time with Venus.

He was actually surprised at how intense that desire was.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her over the past week since their date in Paris.

Maybe it was because people were talking about him dating Venus after more pictures had come out of them together.

Maybe it was because of the engagement rumor.

Whatever the case, she’d been on his mind a lot lately, and now that he was with her again, he was genuinely happy.

When was the last time he’d felt that way?

He couldn’t remember ever being so happy when he’d been with Ainsley Rose. Actually, spending time with her had started to feel like a chore, which was another reason he’d broken things off.

As he stepped into the lounge of his dressing room with Venus, he hesitated in releasing her hand but made himself do so as Ella Mae and several other staff followed them into the suite.

He nodded toward the spread of food and drinks on a side table. “Help yourself.” He crossed toward the bathroom. “It won’t take me long to shower and change.”

Venus didn’t say anything.

He paused at the bathroom door. “You all right, darlin’?” Was she regretting that she’d come?

She picked up a strawberry from one of the platters and plucked the top off. “I lied back there on the stage.”

His thrumming pulse came to an abrupt halt. It was his turn for silence.

She took a dainty bite out of the strawberry before lifting her full gaze to him. In spite of everything, her light-blue eyes knocked into him with a power that left him breathless.

“I lied about maybe being a fan,” she said softly.

“You did?” he managed.

She nodded. “I’m already a Brock McQuaid groupie.”

He snorted but was secretly thrilled with her admission.

“I have almost every one of your songs memorized.”

He couldn’t hold back a genuine grin. “Really?”

She grinned in response. “Really.”

“Suppose now you’ll be wanting my autograph.”

She held out her hand, palm facing up. “Yes. Right here.”

Was she being real? Or was this a show for the few staff mingling in the room?

It didn’t really matter, did it? He swiped up the Sharpie Ella Mae was holding out to him from where she’d been picking an outfit for him to change into.

He crossed to Venus and stopped in front of her. Gently, he took her outstretched hand, popped off the lid on the marker, then hovered above her palm.

She cocked her head, her attention already fixed raptly on the Sharpie.

For most people, he just wrote his name. But that seemed too impersonal for Venus. So he penned the first thing that came to his mind. A heart. Then the words It’s yours .

As soon as it was written, he closed her fingers over it and spun away from her. He tossed the marker back at Ella Mae and then crossed to the bathroom again. Feeling Venus’s gaze following him, he glanced over his shoulder at her.

She had her palm open and had obviously read what he’d written. And she was smiling at him, a happy smile.

Relief swirled through him that he hadn’t overstepped himself with the message. Even so, he winked and forced himself to stay nonchalant, not wanting to appear overly eager to be with her, even though he was.

A short while later, after he’d freshened up, his driver took them to the Berliner Fernsehturm for dinner. The sphere restaurant that was two hundred meters above the ground had a spectacular view of the city.

They stayed late, taking in the sights. After that, they went to the Brandenburg Gate, lit up at night, then to Berliner Dom cathedral, where Harper had somehow managed to get them a private tour guide who took them up into the dome for another look at Berlin from up high.

They found a twenty-four-hour diner and ordered coffee and strudel.

By that time, the night was already well on its way to being over.

So Brock convinced Venus to stay up the rest of it and go with him to the sprawling garden at the city center.

They walked the quiet paths for a while before reclining in the thick grass near one of the ponds.

Brock wasn’t ready for his time with Venus to come to an end, but the night was quickly fading, and the first hints of morning would soon touch the edges of the lush foliage of the Tiergarten.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Ella Mae by the light of a park lamppost down the path, motioning that it was time to go, that Venus had to leave to catch her flight.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to stay up all night.” Venus was stretched out on her back.

He was resting his head on his bent arm. “It was every bit as much fun as I predicted, wasn’t it?”

“Arrogant much?”

“Admit it,” he persisted. “You loved our whirlwind tour of Berlin.”

“Fine. Maybe.” She stifled a yawn behind her hand.

He rolled to his side and gently poked her in the ribs.

She startled, then laughed.

He leaned closer and this time tickled her more.

She wiggled back, laughing again.

“You loved it.” He could easily concede that he’d loved every second of their time together, and he wished she could go with him to Dublin and his concert in London next week as he ended his tour.

But she’d shared about all the different companies that she was modeling for over the next week, and she had hardly a free minute to spare.

With her laughter filling the early morning, she pushed up to her feet and away from his fingers, more relaxed and at ease than he’d ever seen her.

She’d used a big clip to put her hair up into a messy bun, but somehow even the mess was beautiful, and he could only stare at her with an adoration that had been growing all night.

Yes, she was incredibly beautiful on the outside, but she was also spirited and interesting and witty and smart and kind and more.

In fact, the list was growing too long to contain everything he liked about her.

While he’d already known some of those qualities about her, he’d only gotten glimpses of them previously.

Now, after spending concentrated time together, she seemed to be letting him see everything about her.

Her laughter faded, and she tucked back a strand of loose hair. “What’s wrong? Do I have something in my hair?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He didn’t move. Instead, he wanted to capture this moment. Standing in the last of the moonlight, her hair the pale gold of a dream, her skin the soft silk of cream. And all he wanted to do was look at her for a forever night.

For a forever night.

The lyrics spun through his head, and the melody hummed in his blood. He’d written another song over the past week, inspired by their time in Paris. Now this new song was swelling inside him and demanding that he write it and play it.

“You’re staring at me,” she whispered.

“Can’t help myself.” He propped up on his elbow.

“Don’t say it.” She fisted a hand on her hip.

“Say what?”

“That you think I’m beautiful or something like that.” Her tone was exasperated, as if she was tired of such compliments.

“That wasn’t what I was gonna say.”

“Then what?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her the truth. It was a little embarrassing.

“That was it, and now you can’t think of anything else to say instead.” She spun and began to walk away from him.

“Venus, wait.” He scrambled up and stalked after her. He caught up with her and gently tugged her to a stop.

She pivoted around, her brows slanted and her features tight.

He had to say something. It might as well be the truth. “Seeing you in the moonlight. It made me think of the lyrics for a new song.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? That’s what you were thinking?”

“It’s the honest truth.” Since he’d already started, he may as well tell her everything. “Ever since we started talking at Reed’s engagement party, I’ve been back to writing some songs.”

“You’re back? Does that mean you were having trouble?”

“Yep.” He stared down and toed his boot in the grass. “I’ve had writer’s block for a while and was starting to lose hope that I’d have any songs by the time my album’s due.”

“Oh.”

He palmed the back of his neck. That wasn’t the response he’d hoped for. But now that he’d told her the truth, there was no taking it back.

She was quiet for several more heartbeats. “So you’re saying I’m your inspiration?”

Was she? “Guess I didn’t think of it like that. But maybe you are.”