Chapter Two

Cooper Krenshaw could’ve performed all night in a place like this. The scent of sawdust and hardwood drifted up as a handful of people at the edge of the stage began slow dancing on the cramped dance floor, making him smile as he belted out the tune, enjoying the happy faces he could see peering up from the floor below. The last time he’d played for a crowd this small had been several years back at a rodeo down in Austin which seemed like an eternity ago.

These days, his songs were blasted through amphitheaters and stages that would rival most football stadiums and they lacked the intimacy he found in a place like this. In fact, it had been his last concert in Chicago that Cooper found himself escaping as soon as his last set was complete because he couldn’t seem to shake that disconnected feeling. Without even talking to his manager, Cooper had set out on the road, nowhere bound. He hadn’t known where he was headed until he reached the Texas border. It was then that he gave his buddy Adam Dryden a call and beat feet toward Central Texas.

Having met Adam during his first year at the University of Texas, he managed to keep in touch with him through the years despite the chaotic lifestyle Cooper found himself wrapped up in. Something had clicked between them from the moment they met, and keeping in touch with Adam had given Cooper a way to ground himself to his roots. A gentle reminder of where it all started.

Their conversation hadn’t been a long one, but when Adam mentioned he was looking for some local talent to play his small town bar, Cooper found himself aching for something a bit more relaxed than an arena filled with screaming women and knew Adam’s proposal was right up his alley.

That’s how he ended up in Devil’s Bend, Texas for the last week and a half. Until tonight, he’d been hiding out at a modest motel when he wasn’t checking out the local real estate.

This small town setting was a far cry from what he was used to but undeniably more in line with where he had come from. More in line with what had sparked his interested in the early stages of his career. In his early twenties, once he was picked up by a record label, he’d been blown away by the attention and chaos, inspired by it even.

Not so much anymore.

At thirty-one, after nearly eight years on the road full time, Cooper was ready to slow down. Significantly. After just a few minutes on stage, he realized this was more his pace these days. Not that his manager would agree with him, but then again, Marcus Evergreen didn’t think he could do much thinking for himself anymore at all.

“What’d you think?” he asked the crowd when his song came to an end. The group erupted in catcalls and whistles, clapping and laughter, and the excitement seeped into his blood. Truthfully, he hadn’t felt that heart wrenching rush of adrenaline in quite some time.

Glancing around the room, Cooper made eye contact with both women and men, smiling as the group began tossing out suggestions. As was usually the case, most of the requests seemed to go back to one of his early albums, back when he had fun doing this night after night. It seemed as though some of what he’d valued was lost along the way. Probably one of the reasons he was working his way back to his roots once again.

A shrill voice caught his attention, and his eyes darted back to the area closest to the bar. Before he could pinpoint where the sound came from, his gaze had landed on a stunning blonde maneuvering her way through the swarm of people. When the woman stopped and looked up at him, their eyes met for a brief second before she abruptly turned away, fleeing deeper into the crowd. Thanks to his position on the stage, he managed to track her until she slid behind the bar, leaning up to talk to another man standing there.

“Play Cowgirl in my Dreams,” one woman shouted from close to the stage and Cooper tore his eyes off of the mystery woman in the back, glancing over to where the request had come from.

“Yes, ma’am.” Readjusting his guitar, Cooper started the song, falling back into the music, letting himself get lost in the memories of a different time. This was what he’d been searching for these last few months. This was exactly what he was looking to find again.

Forty-five minutes later, Cooper was ready for a break. And a beer. Not necessarily in that order either.

He informed the group that he’d be back shortly, secured his guitar in an area at the back of the stage and moved down the steps. The instant his feet hit the hardwood dance floor, he was inundated with women flocking to his side, an influx of chatter making his head pound. They didn’t seem to mind that they were invading his personal space, hanging on him even as he tried to keep moving.

With a smile on his face, he worked his way through the group, trying his best to answer questions, offering a couple of hugs, posing for more than a few pictures before he finally reached the bar. He just wanted a beer. And maybe a few minutes of quiet. He wasn’t going to get the latter, but from the looks of it, the former was on its way thanks to the man behind the bar nodding in his direction.

A beefy hand clapped him on the shoulder and Cooper turned to see who it was, coming face to face with Adam Dryden.

“Hey, man.” Holding out his hand, he waited for Adam to shake it before tipping his hat slightly on his head.

“How’s it goin’?” Adam asked, having to speak louder just so Cooper could hear him.

A group of women were trying desperately to get his attention and Cooper was doing his best to be polite. He’d gotten used to the demand on his time, but he found it difficult to turn his attention away from someone he knew personally for a group who assumed he owed them his undivided attention.

“Why don’t we go to my office?” Adam offered, and Cooper didn’t hesitate before nodding his head in agreement.

Grabbing his beer bottle from the bar, he fell into step behind Adam. Sheer determination was the only thing that got them through the crowd, but once they did, Cooper found himself following his friend up a set of stairs at the far back of the room. Just when he thought they were going to have company, a hulking man insinuated his bulk between the gaggle of women and the cramped stairwell.

“Mr. Krenshaw will be back down shortly, ladies,” he told the group, making Cooper smile.

Mr. Krenshaw. Shit. That was funny. At thirty-one, he certainly didn’t feel like a mister.

At the top of the dimly lit stairwell was a door that read “Private” on a plaque haphazardly glued to the wood. Adam used a key to gain access and Cooper followed him, successfully shutting out the majority of the noise once inside.