Page 8 of Broncos and Ballads (Healing Springs Ranch #2)

Had Venus worked up the courage to tell Reed how she really felt?

Brock hovered on the edge of the arboretum near the pathway, waiting for the two to finish their conversation. A part of him was also making sure no one else went out and bothered them, mainly Lexi, who kept glancing toward the path with worried eyes.

At the hard slap of footsteps against the flagstone path, Brock pushed away from the marble statue he’d been leaning against. Reed was coming, and he was alone. That had to mean the conversation hadn’t gone well for Venus.

Course, Brock didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but Reed wasn’t sporting the happy smile of a man who’d just learned his friend loved him. Instead, he was scowling, and the scowl only got bigger at the sight of Brock.

Brock wasn’t sure where all Reed’s animosity was coming from. He’d never had any negative interactions with Reed previously. Even if the guy was sometimes uptight and hard-nosed about things, Brock never let that bother him and always did his best to entertain his friends.

As Reed drew up to Brock, he halted and looked like he wanted to take a swing.

Brock guessed the best thing to do in the situation was pretend he didn’t notice the strain. “Everything all right with Venus?”

“She’s just fine.” The words came out in a growl. “And she better stay that way.”

Brock forced a grin. “I feel the same way, buddy.”

“Good. Because if I ever hear that you’ve hurt her, you’ll wish you’d never looked at her.

” Reed didn’t wait for Brock to respond.

Instead, he strode across the span of yard to where Lexi was standing and chatting with several of her cheerleader friends, who had been eyeing Brock since he’d returned from talking with Venus.

They hadn’t approached him yet. With the rumors about him and Venus circulating on social media and in the news, maybe fewer women would hit on him tonight, which he wouldn’t mind.

Early on in his career, he’d been flattered by all the women who paid him attention, but over the past year, he could admit he’d gotten tired of having to find ways to avoid women without hurting their feelings.

He supposed that’s why he’d liked being in a relationship with Ainsley Rose.

Even if their time together had been mostly superficial, at least he’d gotten a break from the pressure to date.

He watched the path for Venus to make an appearance. He’d wanted to tell her how incredible she looked tonight, but he’d figured so many people flattered her that paying her one more compliment was unoriginal, maybe even as tedious for her as the fan attention was for him.

“You and Venus?” Dallas, one of Reed’s bandmates—his lead guitarist—sauntered toward Brock, a bottle of beer in hand.

With long brown-gray hair and an equally long beard, the middle-aged man had once played in a heavy-metal band.

He was a lady’s man—or liked to think he was—and had bonded with Brock over their lady’s man similarity.

“I’m impressed.” Dallas took a swig from his beer.

“Thanks, man.” Inwardly Brock sighed. He hadn’t known what to tell people about Lexi’s post declaring that he and Venus were a happy couple in love . Harper had told him to roll with it until they had clear direction on how Venus wanted to handle the situation.

But what exactly did roll with it mean? Pretend he was in love with Venus? Acknowledge the congratulations about being a couple?

So far, he’d done both. But he hadn’t liked having to lie. It would only make getting out of their fake relationship all the harder.

“Venus Vargas is a goddess.” Dallas’s eyes were filled with admiration. “You’re one lucky dog to finally be the man to win her heart.”

“You know me…” Brock forced another grin. “I am a lucky dog.”

“Heard she’s real picky about who she goes out with. So I reckon she must’ve lowered her standards if she’s willing to be seen with a fellow like you.”

Brock laughed, some of the tension easing from his body.

He’d always had the philosophy that a person couldn’t take himself or life too seriously, that a little laughter and teasing were sometimes the best kind of medicine.

He’d even written a song about it early on in his career: “Better Than a Glass of Whiskey.”

Don’t pour me another glass of whiskey. Don’t hand me anotherbeer.

Instead, tell me you love me and that you’ll always benear.

It’s too easy to get lost in what don’t matter, and lose sight of whatcounts,

Your smiles and laughter every day and lovin’ you allnight.

It had been a popular song for a while, earned him some accolades for having depth and heart in his music.

If only he could compose his own songs again the way he had at first. Yes, he’d written a song for his brother’s engagement recently.

He’d thought maybe he’d had a breakthrough in his writer’s block, but he hadn’t been able to come up with anything meaningful since.

If things didn’t change, Steve and BMN had indicated they would hire a songwriter for him.

Having a songwriter was fine for most singers. Reed almost always used songs others wrote for him. But Brock hadn’t been able to sing anything that didn’t come from himself and his heart. He’d tried, but he just didn’t have the same passion or enthusiasm, and it showed.

He had to figure out what was wrong and causing him to be blocked.

And he had to do it soon. Because once his world tour ended, he would have a couple of months off the road, and he had to make good use of the time and work on his next album.

He’d hoped to have the lyrics written to at least half a dozen songs by now so that he could focus mostly on the music with his band.

But he had nothing…except for Ty’s song. After hearing all about Ty and Kinsey’s relationship, Brock had been so inspired by their love that he’d written the lyrics and music practically overnight.

Inspired by love. Maybe his critics were right that he didn’t know about love. He’d been searching after women to fill him up, but they’d all been wrong and had left him dry, empty, with only dregs at the bottom of his cup.

Those sounded an awful lot like lyrics for a new song.

He straightened and began to fish in his suit pocket for his phone. He had to make a note with his thoughts.

Dallas, in the middle of telling him about one of his latest girlfriends, paused his storytelling and raised a brow.

“Don’t mind me.” Brock swiped at his phone screen and pulled up his notes app. Quickly he began to type up his thoughts. He might never use the words, but they were the first decent and deep lines he’d come up with in a while. “Just had to get down some sudden inspiration.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Dallas’s smile widened. “What was the inspiring part? Tanya’s pretty smile, or the way she winks at me?”

Brock didn’t have the heart to tell Dallas he hadn’t heard a single word about Tanya. “Can’t say, or it’ll ruin the vibes.”

“True enough, dog.” Dallas slapped him on his arm. “True enough.”

At the sight of Venus heading down the path toward him, Brock pocketed his phone. She didn’t seem happy. In fact, from the slump of her shoulders and the dip of her chin, she looked miserable. The conversation with Reed must have bombed.

“I’ll catch up with you later, Dallas.” He turned his back on the guitarist, hoping the guy would get the hint to leave. As he stepped toward Venus, she blotted a finger under first one eye and then the other. Was she wiping away tears?

As she locked in on him, she straightened, picked up her pace, and forced a smile—a practiced smile, one she probably used often in her modeling.

“Hi,” she said breezily, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

Maybe that kind of greeting and that kind of smile could fool others, but it wasn’t fooling him.

“Wait, Venus.” He halted in the middle of the path.

Without faltering in her confident stride, she tried to step around him.

He shifted enough to block her and touched her arm. “Please.”

She stopped.

He could feel the tension radiating from her body.

Why had he stopped her? What could he possibly say to make her feel better?

In a situation like hers, there wasn’t anything that could make the heartache go away.

Not even the words I’m sorry were adequate.

They were flimsy, designed to make the person saying them feel better and not the other way around.

He had the sudden urge to write that down on his notes app too. Why was he feeling inspired tonight? He didn’t understand it except that there was something about Venus that was making him think more deeply than he had in a while.

She released a long sigh.

Was she exasperated? Did she want to run off and leave him and everyone else behind? If so, he wouldn’t blame her.

He had to say something before she did. “Hey,” he whispered. “I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but I’m here for you tonight. If you need someone.”

She didn’t immediately respond. Then she sniffled and nodded. “Thank you, Brock.”

“Anytime.”

She remained motionless. “Do you mind…would it be okay…could we pretend to be a couple tonight?”

He tried not to startle at her question, but it took him off guard so that he didn’t know what to say.

She shook her head and started to move forward. “Never mind. That’s selfish of me—”

“No.” He tightened his hold on her arm, keeping her in place beside him. “Of course we can stick together.”

She stood stiffly for another second, then seemed to relax.

“It would probably be easier,” he whispered. “Then we won’t have as many questions.”

They would still have people asking how they’d gotten together and wondering how serious they were. But it would be simpler to fend off the queries if they were together rather than on opposite ends of the party and hardly speaking to each other.

“I don’t think I can handle Reed’s pity—or Lexi’s,” she whispered. “Not tonight.”