Everyone knows Brendan Brody, but Jeannie Dunway never expects the singing star to walk into the small-town restaurant where she’s celebrating…or for the bar owner to call him “son.”
Brendan returns to Jackrabbit, Texas to stage a concert in honor of the woman who gave him his voice, even though it means acknowledging the father who preferred bottles of booze to baby bottles. He didn’t expect their first real encounter in over a decade to be interrupted by a petite firecracker of a woman whose curves make his mouth go dry.
The benefit concert will be a feather in Jeannie’s professional cap, but only if she can successfully negotiate with the town’s old guard and convince them that the rebellious teen they briefly knew really has Jackrabbit’s best interests in mind. And if working on the concert also happens to give her a chance to get up close and personal with Brendan, that’s fine with Jeannie.
Shifting over as much as she could while still in the tight grip of her sorority sisters, Jeannie angled her head so she could see what was reflected in the mirror behind Mr. Winter. When she saw who had shown up in Jackrabbit, of all places, she was grateful for Elle’s and Sami’s support. Her knees went weak.
No wonder Mr. Winter was staring, and no wonder the girls were so excited.
There, at the entrance of the little country bar and restaurant, way outside what should have been his natural milieu, stood the unmistakable Brendan Brody.
Jeannie’s mouth went dry, and her gaze darted back to the prep area in front of Mr. Winter. No margarita sitting there waiting for her to snag and chug. Damn. She looked back at the mirror, drawn to every beautiful detail of Brendan. His red-blond hair rose in a shock above his darker eyebrows. His long face and square chin would show up in any image search for “chiseled.” His Adam’s apple was sure to be the most famous Adam’s apple in the nation. Jeannie didn’t know if people ever ran metrics on those things, but she was willing to bet two out of three women could pick Brendan Brody’s Adam’s apple out of a lineup. It had been the subject of plenty of close-ups, as it vibrated with the soul-stealing deep notes he sang in front of millions of viewers. Fresh-shaven, stubble-shadowed, sweat-glistened from dancing, or backlit for a publicity shot—Jeannie would know his Adam’s apple anywhere.
And there it was, in the doorway of Applejacks.
Sami hadn’t let up, but Elle’s hand was loose enough now to let Jeannie twist around and look over her shoulder, desperate for a direct view of Brendan Brody.
He wasn’t a trick of the mirror. He was real.
And despite her being bookended by Sami and Elle, Jeannie decided he was looking straight at her.