A Cowboy Billionaire Country Star Fake Marriage (Brookside Ranch Brothers Book 3) Page 8

  “What’s durian?” she asked with a laugh.

  “It’s a fruit. I had it when I was touring Asia. It sort of looks like a green porcupine and it has this unholy smell. I’m talking, this thing smells so bad, the scent stays on your clothes and your skin and no amount of scrubbing is going to get it out. But if you can get past the smell, the fruit is creamy and sweet.”

  “Oh, gross!” she giggled. She had been expecting him to say something a little less exotic, like a kale smoothie or something.

  “Yeah, one of my band members while we were there, he ate white ant egg soup,” he laughed.

  Miranda shuddered at the mental image. “Did he like it?”

  Phoenix shrugged. “He didn’t order it again. I guess it’s more of a talking point.”

  “Or a macho thing,” she suggested.

  “Yeah, maybe. What about you? Any weird foods making the rounds in your life?”

  Miranda fixed her blonde hair behind her ear and bashfully admitted, “I mean, I was going to say I tried pineapple pie once, but your weird fruit and ant eggs kind of squashed my experience.”

  “What is weird about pineapple pie?”

  “Um?” she said, drawing the word out. “Are you kidding me? It’s pineapple.” She paused. “In a pie!”

  “And pineapple doesn’t belong in pie form?”

  Miranda tapped her nose. “Bingo.”

  The girl playing in front of them was sweet. Her voice carried easily through the small venue. While she didn’t have a big range, her vocals were pretty. She played three songs and then chugged half a bottle of water before returning her lips to the microphone.

  The girl gave a lazy strum across her guitar strings, playing out a G and then plucking against the harmonious sound. It was clear she didn’t know Phoenix was in the audience, because to open the second half of her set, she began playing one of his songs.

  Miranda watched her faux fiancé to see if he would react, but he didn’t so much as smirk at the girl. He didn’t seem flattered or embarrassed by the girl playing his song; he just sipped at his drink.

  After the first chorus, a couple of people started pointing Phoenix out in the small crowd. This wasn’t the type of bar where you would find a gushing fan, but the crowd’s interest had been piqued.

  Noticing this, Phoenix’s demeanor changed. He smiled and stood up from his chair. The female singer’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t break from her song. She was committed to finishing what she had started.

  Phoenix began clapping, encouraging the crowd, and suddenly he became this charming front man. This lovable people-person who was cheering her on as he approached the stage.

  He was on.

  Phoenix gestured toward the stage, raising his brows as if to say, “May I?” and the girl nodded in return.

  He walked up next to her, and the girl’s face lit up in a pink-apple blush. He neared the microphone, and they sang, “so corner me, up against your wall, tell me you love me, and we’ll say it all,” and the whole bar exploded with cheers and shouts.

  And that was the thing about Phoenix. He was so quiet, so thoughtful. He barely reciprocated conversations sometimes. But when he was in music mode, he knew exactly how to be the life of the party and draw a crowd together.

  Miranda watched them play out the song and could hear the nerves in the young girl’s vocals, but they sang beautifully together. Miranda couldn’t help but give the pair a standing ovation when the song ended. The rest of the crowd followed suit, standing, clapping, and hooting at the two singers as Phoenix returned to his seats.

  No doubt, this sweet event would be all over social media in the morning.

  When he returned to the table, it took the bar a few more songs to calm down. The two of them spent the rest of the night listening to music and talking with fans, and every time he whispered in her ear or held her hand, her heart fluttered.

  “You’re so quiet,” she said on the way to the ranch house.

  “So I’ve been told,” he smirked.

  “You come alive when you play.”

  “I’ve been told that, too,” he said.

  “Do you think one of the reasons you’re so quiet is because you are from such a big family? I know you said that some of your siblings could have a real presence.”

  He rolled his neck from side to side, thinking on it. “No,” he finally concluded. “I think if I were an only child, I would have been just as quiet.”

  Miranda doubted that. Sometimes she wished Phoenix was chattier, but he always seemed to have the world on his shoulders. This was why it was so amazing every time she managed to make him laugh or answer her silly questions.

  The man was clearly doing something right, as the next morning the headline across the top country music website read:

  BAD BOY PHOENIX BROOKS FOUND THE LOVE HE’S BEEN WAITING FOR

  There were photos of Phoenix and Miranda looking cozy as ever.

  Two days later, Phoenix was brought to Tennessee to sign his contract. He had been hoping for another album, but they signed him for three.

  Their mission was complete, but their contract wasn’t over, which was just fine with Miranda. She was hardly done with Phoenix Brooks; she just hoped he felt the same way.

  Chapter Eleven

  Phoenix

  Phoenix watched as Miranda was crouched down on her knees in the Nashville studio, staring at the songs he’d played out in order on the coffee table in front of them.

  He smirked with amusement, watching her thumb through his lyrics like a little manager. He was becoming more endeared to the girl as each day went by—and it terrified him.

  He hadn’t felt a spark for anybody since Rachel, yet somehow Miranda had managed to find her way into his circle of trust.

  He found himself comparing the two women constantly. He didn’t want to take anything away from his ex. She was going to be the mother of his child. She was the one who had been there with him through nearly all of the significant moments in his life, except for this one.

  Phoenix always believed that Rachel was his soulmate, yet he knew there was a part of Miranda that understood him better than Rachel ever could. She understood his music and the passion he felt toward creation. She could sit for hours while he played guitar, encouraging him and marveling at his talent.

  This was hardly an ego stroke. Phoenix could equally spend hours exchanging silly questions with Miranda, peppering her about her dreams and goals, and listening to her tell stories about her life.

  And she loved the ranch.

  Rachel had loved the ranch, but Phoenix was never open to looking at it as anything but a business until Miranda came into his life.

  Miranda wanted to ride horses and go through all of the experiences. Since moving into his Utah home, he and Miranda had gone snowboarding, tubing, been horseback riding several times, skated, gone fly fishing in the snow, did a guided ranger tour, and took a cooking class.

  The experiences made her smile and filled Phoenix with a sense of gratitude for the light she brought into his world.

  He’d been selfish. He could see that now. It was why he lost Rachel and why Hunter came down so hard on him. It was why both of them were willing to believe he’d cheated on Rachel. Because he’d become something of a narcissist.

  Miranda made him want to be better. For the first time, possibly ever, Phoenix could feel himself growing.

  He was looking for ways to think outside of himself. He wanted to use his music as a platform for bettering the world, already taking on six charity shows to promote the album with all proceeds from the ticket sales going to various causes like cancer research and fighting poverty in the city.

  Phoenix’s label flew him and Miranda out to Nashville to do some record with one of their favorite producers, E.I. Todd.

  They’d been in the city for weeks writing and recording in the evenings.

  During the day, Phoenix would take Miranda to some of his favorite sights like the replica
of the Greek Parthenon, the Country Music Hall of Fame, and Centennial Park. If it were too cold, they would stay inside and watch a movie or work on the plans for the kids’ camp back at the ranch.

  On nights when he wasn’t working, the two would go to Broadway or the Grand Ole Opry. Phoenix loved to watch Miranda’s reactions. They were childlike and completely authentic. When she was surprised, her face showed it. When she was emotional, her eyes brimmed with tears and she clapped for the acts until her face went red.

  But his favorite thing to do with Miranda was to have her in the studio, like tonight.

  His producer, manager, and the record executives were crazy about Miranda. She was everything they had been looking for.

  Come to think of it, she was everything he had been looking for, too: Smart, beautiful, confident, adventurous.

  That evening, it was just Adam, Phoenix, and Miranda in the studio after their recording session had wrapped, looking over the songs.

  Adam sat back in the studio chair and crossed his legs at his ankles. “Is that the order you want to put your songs in?” he asked, nodding toward the meticulously ordered pages of songs on the floor.

  “Not yet,” Phoenix said. “This is just a rough draft.”

  “Yeah, yeah, looks good, man,” Adam nodded. “This album is killer so far.”

  Miranda shifted three songs around on a whim. She didn’t look up at Phoenix as she said, “I think ‘Annabella’ should be track two.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Doesn’t that sort of make sense?” she asked curiously, meeting his eyes. “I mean, didn’t you write the record as a story?”

  His brows drew together, and he leaned down to look at the new way she had ordered his songs. “How do you mean?”

  She swept her hand above the papers and explained, “I think when you look at everything, it tells this consecutive story. You start with ‘What it takes to be next to you’, which is the guy getting the girl. Then you have ‘Annabella’, which lets you know that the girl he got isn’t the typical happily ever after. She’s troubled, she’s not always so lovable, but he’s committed. Then you have ‘Go Easy on Me’ and ‘Cataclysm’, which are both about this relationship that is lightning. It’s hot and passionate, but it’s fiery and destructive.”

  “’Cataclysm’ was about a tornado,” he interjected.

  “A tornado of a relationship,” Miranda said.

  Phoenix shook his head. “Actually, it was just a song about a tornado.”

  “Whatever,” she giggled. “It still fits. Then we have ‘Alongside Rivers’, which is the guy really thinking about his life and realizing that he isn’t happy anymore.”

  Adam couldn’t hide the smile on his face. He looked up at Phoenix, thumbing in Miranda’s direction as he declared, “She’s good, man.”

  “Then you have these,” she continued, gesturing toward a couple of papers she moved to the side. “Sort of filler, radio hits about growing up and all that. Then you end everything with ‘I’m Wide Awake’ and ‘Like Hallelujah’, which are these lightbulb moments. Maybe there’s more to life, and love, than being on the edge of your seat all of the time. Maybe there’s pleasure in simplicity, starting over, and even being alone.”

  Phoenix blinked in surprise. He was stunned to see the journey of his life spread out in front of him.

  He knew he was working through his breakup, but he hadn’t expected to see everything put in chronological order the way it was.

  “The only one that that doesn’t seem to fit anywhere in the narrative is ‘Lifted,’” she said, and he immediately felt defensive. “It’s all about—”

  He snapped, “I know what it’s about, and it belongs here,” before setting the song lyrics before “Alongside Rivers.”

  “I don’t know; it doesn’t seem to fit the tone,” Miranda said, tapping her finger against her lips and looking to Adam for backup.

  “If we’re going through a story narrative, then that’s where it goes,” Phoenix said stubbornly.

  “I think she’s right, bro. Maybe we should save it for the next record,” Adam said to Phoenix’s surprise.

  “I don’t want it on the next album,” he responded petulantly. “I want it on this album.”

  Adam shrugged and stood to grab his jacket. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

  “It stays, Adam,” he said evenly.

  “Alright, alright! It stays!” Adam laughed, throwing his hands into the air. “Hey, I’m heading out for the night. Do you guys want to grab a nightcap? Late dinner?”

  “No. Thanks,” Phoenix said.

  “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow, bud.”

  Phoenix waved but didn’t look at Adam as he said, “Goodnight.”

  When Adam left, the whole dynamic of the room changed. He could see Miranda holding her jaw tight as she stared at the coffee table.

  “What?” he said with irritation. “You think he’s right?”

  “I think if you feel like that song completes the album, then it should stay,” she said, her words clipped.

  “But you don’t think it belongs there?”

  She shrugged indifferently. “I already said what I had to say. Do you want me to say it again?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I think it feels like a puzzle piece that doesn’t fit. But this isn’t my life. I didn’t go through any of this. You did. So, if you say the rest of the album wouldn’t have happened without it, then it should stay.”

  Phoenix thinned his lips.

  “Let’s just change the subject since you clearly don’t like talking about this song,” she said simply.

  “I wrote it,” he enunciated.

  She looked at him with a challenge in her eyes and snapped back, “I know, but getting it off your chest is a lot different than dissecting it line by line or talking about what it means to you.”

  He squinted. “And?”

  “And when the album comes out, people are going to ask what it’s about, and if you’re not ready to talk about it, then maybe it shouldn’t be on the record,” she said. “You shouldn’t open that part of yourself to the world until you’re ready to talk about it or it might hurt you.”

  “Hurt my career?”

  Miranda rolled her eyes. “No, your feelings.”

  “It’s going on the record.”

  “Why are you being so stubborn about this?” she said with annoyance.

  “It’s my song,” he said firmly. “I don’t even know why you’re going on about it.”

  She shrugged. “Why won’t you just tell me what the song is about?”

  “Because it’s none of your business.”

  “Seriously?” She scoffed. “Why are you being such a jerk right now?”

  “Because I let you come into the studio as a silent observer, not as a member of my management team.”

  Miranda’s eyes went wide. She gestured toward the door and exclaimed, “But Adam agrees with me!”

  “The song stays on the album,” he said evenly.

  “Fine!” she shouted. “I don’t even know why you’re getting so freaked out about this or why you won’t just tell me why you need this song so badly. What’s it about? I mean, it’s not hard to guess. It’s about Rachel. They’re all about Rachel.”

  Phoenix flinched as she spat the words out, and he could hear the deep jealousy in her tone.

  “Listen to me,” he said carefully, and his tone continued to rise the longer he spoke, “It has to be on the record because I need this record to be over. I need this to be done, and I can’t have this weighing on me anymore. I can’t keep reliving this!”

  Miranda’s eyes went wide as saucers. She looked surprised at his outburst. “Okay,” she said calmly. “But you do know that by playing it live, you’ll have to relive it, right?”

  “We won’t play it live,” he said with venom.

  “Fine,” she said, and that was the end of it.

  The air was thick with awkward tension and remained that way
until the pair got back to his penthouse in Nashville.

  At first, Phoenix thought he was punishing Miranda with his silence, but as the entered the house and she went right to her bedroom door and closed it behind her, he realized it was the other way around.

  Miranda was the one who wasn’t speaking to him.

  While the two of them weren’t in a real relationship, this felt authentically like the way he used to feel when Rachel came down on him or stormed away when they were trying to talk.

  He sat on the gray, tufted couch in his living room and poured himself a glass of whiskey to relax. He’d been good about not using alcohol as a release these past three months, but tonight he just needed a drink. He needed to unwind.

  Phoenix paced the room with the glass in the palm of his hand before he picked up his guitar and began playing some of his new songs. He didn’t sing along to the music, as it felt uncomfortable to do so while Miranda was upset.

  He waited in the common area for over an hour, expecting Miranda to come out, but she didn’t.

  By eleven that night, he was done waiting. He didn’t know how to approach her, and clearly, she didn’t want to be disturbed. Besides, he didn’t feel he was in the wrong to begin with—so why should he go and make nice with her?

  Miranda didn’t have a clue about him or his life or what those songs meant, and she had no right to make any decisions about them. Phoenix lived through the trauma that birthed those songs, not her.

  He couldn’t believe he’d been considering starting something up with her.

  This anger, while boiling the moment they came through the front door, subsided as soon as Miranda came into his room later that night. It was after one in the morning when she walked in through his bedroom door. She was holding her phone and a pair of earbuds. Seeing that he was awake, she dropped the items on the bed, and he could see at the screen. She was listening to “Lifted.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t be.”

  “It’s about your...” she trailed off, searching for the right words. “It’s about the miscarriage.”

  Phoenix looked up at her, his expression dark as she continued, “That’s why it has to go in. Because this record isn’t a story. Not in the linear way. It’s an apology.”