Blurb: Naomi Mallard is a fixer by nature. And as PR manager for Nashville’s Shooting Stars record label, she’s facing her biggest fix: redeeming country music bad boy Chance Colburn. But in Naomi’s eyes, a police record and a stint in rehab are the least of Chance’s sins. He has spent his life running from demons and making tabloid headlines that have sent his career into a tailspin. Now he’s struggling to find his muse and maintain his newfound sobriety, all while counting on the woman he once betrayed to repair his tattered reputation.

Naomi is determined to keep their relationship strictly professional, but that’s not easy when an unexpected injury forces the former couple into disturbingly close proximity. Will mending their once-broken relationship be Naomi’s best save yet? Or will Chance’s past wreck any hope for a future together?

 

I haven’t read this book yet, but I do have a review planned for this month. The blurb sold me – a bad boy country music star?? Terri sent over a sexier excerpt to share with us today. Look for my review next week. Goodreads l Kindle

 

Hero:  Country music star Chance Colburn has spent his life running from demons and making tabloid headlines that have sent his career into a tailspin. Now he’s struggling to find his muse and maintain his newfound sobriety, all while counting on the woman he once betrayed to repair his tattered reputation and to help take care of him while he recovers from a potentially career-changing hand injury.

Heroine: Naomi Mallard is the PR manager for Nashville’s Shooting Stars record label, and she’s facing her biggest fix: redeeming country music bad boy Chance Colburn. As if the task at hand wasn’t already difficult enough, Naomi is afraid she’s falling for the charismatic singer and songwriter again.  As Naomi helps Chance stage a comeback and give him one last shot at fame—could it mean one last shot at love for them, too?

 

An Excerpt from FALLING STAR by Terri Osburn—On sale now!

“You need a haircut,” Naomi said. “I could have April come out and do it this weekend.”

Chance messed it up with his good hand, giving himself a fresh out-of-bed look. Naomi considered dunking her own head under the faucet.

“Right now, I’d give anything just to wash it.”

Thanks to some ingenious thinking on her part, Naomi had avoided having to assist Chance in that area. Each morning, they’d cut up a garbage bag and taped it over the ridiculously huge bandage on his hand. Once clean, he’d return downstairs and she’d remove the covering. The first day he’d shown up in the kitchen in nothing but the sweatpants with his hair still wet.

Naomi had nearly swallowed her tongue. After that, she’d gathered every stretched-out T-shirt he owned and made sure he had one ready and waiting upon emerging from the bathroom. The wet hair she hadn’t found a remedy for yet.

“Aren’t you washing it in the shower?”

“Trying to, but one hand isn’t cutting it.”

This is what she was here for. To do the things he couldn’t do for himself. Heaven help her.

“I guess I could wash it for you.”

Brown eyes caught hers. “You’d do that?”

“Um, sure. That’s what I’m here for. To help you out with whatever you need.”

To his credit, Chance had not crossed the line since the night she’d asked him to wait. There were times he passed her in the kitchen and a hand would caress her hip. Or when she’d call it a night, and he’d drop a kiss on her cheek. But he hadn’t pressed his case or tried to rush her. It was as if the total lack of pressure made her want him more.

Seduction via restraint.

“How do you want to do it?” he asked.

Every way possible, her brain screamed.

“Well . . .” Naomi considered her options. “Do you have a bathtub?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we can do it in there.” Realizing what she’d said, Naomi stuttered, “I . . . I mean . . . wash your hair. We can wash your hair in the tub.”

As if he’d missed the double entendre, Chance rose up and patted the counter. “Great. Come up when you’re ready.”

Chance strolled away and disappeared up the stairs. Washing a man’s hair couldn’t be that big a deal, right? April did it all the time, and she didn’t come home strung out on unfulfilled lust. He’d bend over the tub, she’d lather him up, rinse him off, and they’d be done.

So why were her hands shaking at the thought?

Naomi closed her eyes and breathed deep. This had become her go-to solution when her brain started firing in too many directions. Hands braced on the countertop, she dissected the current situation. She wanted to have sex with Chance. That was a given. But she’d asked him to wait, because Naomi knew that once she gave in, there would be no easy way out of this.

After what had happened the last time, she needed to be sure. To trust that history wouldn’t repeat itself. Not the sleeping-with-her-boss part, which obviously was not going to happen this time, but Chance could still hurt her. How was the man upstairs different from the one who’d betrayed her?

Seven years ago, he had been a young, brash up-and-comer with the world laid out before him. He’d also been secretive and guarded. Today, he was a damaged man battling a disease that had nearly taken his world. In the last week, he’d been honest and forthcoming, and already had shared more of himself than he had in their entire six-month relationship. The difference could not be more pronounced.

Willie the Wonder Cat wrapped himself around her ankle, meowing loudly in demand of his meal. Shaken from her thoughts, Naomi put the dish on the floor and watched him dig in.

“You’ve lived with him for a while, Willie. Am I being too cautious?”

The full tale swished and Naomi thought about the night of the accident. Despite rapidly losing blood, Chance had insisted on protecting this little creature. A wholly selfless act, and one the Chance of seven years ago wouldn’t even have considered.

“I’m being an idiot,” she muttered, and dashed off to her room.

Chance wasn’t used to second-guessing himself. He also wasn’t used to delayed gratification. The last three days had been excruciating, and not because of his hand. The only good to come out of all this sexual frustration was a new set of songs. Every night, while Naomi slept, he’d sat at the table and wrote another song. Whoever created that guitar app was going to get a mention in the acknowledgments once the album was done.

But he’d done something else while she’d slept. Chance had paid her a visit, each night getting closer to climbing into bed with her. Last night, he’d gotten as far as pulling the covers back, but her voice filled his mind.

Wait for me.

If this was going to work, she had to come to him. Naomi had to make the decision. However, when a man was on the brink of losing his ever-loving mind, a little nudge in the right direction couldn’t hurt.

He’d been serious about the hair thing. Washing it with one hand was like trying to scratch his ass with his elbow. Not until she offered to wash it for him did a better idea form in his mind. Chance wasn’t blind. He’d picked up on the cues. How she reacted to his touch. How she eyed him over her computer screen while he read a magazine. Not that he’d gotten much reading done. One day, he’d realized the damn thing was upside down. Thankfully, he’d caught the mistake before she did.

This move could backfire on him. Naomi might walk in, find him in the tub, and walk back out. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t. It was a gamble he had to take, because spending another night under this roof without touching her was going to drive him to the brink of madness.

Once the claw-foot tub was two-thirds full, Chance struggled out of his clothes and climbed in, remembering to grab the shampoo from the shower at the last minute. Body strung tight, he leaned back and waited. And waited.

When he was certain she wasn’t coming, the door cracked open.

“Chance?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Over here.”

Naomi had avoided entering his bathroom. She’d been in his room to get his clothes, but never stepped foot in the room where he showered. At first, he’d assumed she wanted to give him privacy. But then considered that maybe his penchant for being naked in this space was what kept her out.

Until tonight.

To his surprise, she’d changed. The blue sweater had been replaced by a thin gray tank, and even from where he was sitting, Chance could see there wasn’t anything underneath it. Lace-trimmed shorts peeked out from beneath the top, revealing legs that went on forever.

Chest unbearably tight, he fought the urge to drag her in with him. To suck the water off her nipples until she was screaming for more. Sitting up in the water, he did his best to act casual.

“I brought the shampoo over,” he told her, voice an octave lower than usual.

Naomi hovered inside the door. “I didn’t know you were going to get in.”

“Seemed like the only way this would work with this kind of tub.” A truth he had no problem using in his favor. “I can get out if you want.”

“No.” She held up a hand. “You can stay in there. This is fine.”

Chance sure as hell hoped so, because standing up now would reveal in no uncertain terms just how much he wanted her.

Grabbing a towel off the hook by the shower, she tossed it on the floor behind him and kneeled down. “Do you have a cup I can use to get your hair wet?”

“No, but I can do that.” Chance dunked himself under the surface and came back up. The movement sent water sloshing onto the floor.

“Oh!” Naomi cried behind him. He turned to find her top soaking wet, revealing two tiny buds beneath the thin material. Their eyes met, and she made no move to cover herself. “You got me all wet.”

God, he hoped so.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, not meaning it at all.

“That’s okay. I can take it off when we’re done.”

Or before. That worked for him, too. Doing his best to play the good patient, Chance turned back around and waited for her to apply the shampoo. When her fingers touched his scalp, he forgot for a moment why he’d really coaxed her up here. She had magic hands, kneading in the right spots, and massaging circles in others.

“You’re really good at this,” he said, eyes closed.

“My friend April is a hairdresser, remember? She once gave me tips on head massage. Is it working?”

“Mmmhmm . . .” Chance needed to send April a thank-you card.

When Naomi reached the base of his skull, she nudged him forward and massaged his neck. Another nudge and slender fingers slid down his back.

“I figure since we’re here,” she said, “I might as well get this part, too.”

Chance lifted for her, his muscles twitching beneath her touch. His dick grew harder by the second, and he nearly growled when her fingertips reached the top of his ass.

“Is that good?” she whispered in his ear, and Chance realized he was about to get what he wanted.

“Yeah,” he drawled. “Real good.”

Skilled hands slid along his rib cage before flattening against his pecs. Back once again against the porcelain, his head rested between two firm breasts.

“I think we should rinse now,” Naomi said, hands trailing over his shoulders.

Chance would have done anything she asked at that point. “Yes, ma’am.” Keeping his left hand out of the water, he dipped down and worked the lather out with the other. When he came up, Naomi stood beside the tub holding a towel.

With a wicked grin, she said, “Time to get out now.”

He waited for her to look away, or hide behind the towel, but she did neither. Power surged through his body. If she wanted a show, he’d give her one. Bracing himself with his good hand, he rose out of the water and stood tall, water slicking down his body and over his erection.

Hazel eyes, darkened by desire, took him in from head to toe. When she met his gaze again, her eyes reflected her approval. “You’re beautiful.”

Chance stepped out of the tub. “So are you.” Ripping the towel from her hands, he tossed it away. “Now let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”