pickle jar and a lid poked with holes. He pretended to hate her. Maybe a little part of him did, but there was another part of him that missed her as much as Faith did.
“Can you reintroduce us when he’s finished?” Dean asked when the song came to an end.
“Why? You want him to help you change your flat tire?”
“No,” he answered as if she hadn’t been kidding. “I want to make your brother a star.”
DEAN SHOULD HAVE left the moment he realized he was sharing space with none other than Faith Stratton. At the very least, he should have stayed on the phone, begging his business partner to come rescue him so he could get out of this town before anyone else spotted him. Though, given their history, it was unlikely Faith would go running to his parents’ house to announce his arrival.
Gone was the little girl who had been attached to Addison’s hip and the sweet, doe-eyed teenager who had made him lose his mind and his sister in the process. In her place was a gorgeous, dark-haired, grown-up woman. Those warm brown eyes were still capable of stopping a man’s heart, but everything else had changed...matured.
Seeing her stirred up feelings he preferred to avoid, bury, pretend he never felt. Dean was the master at hiding his true emotions. He also had a knack for keeping his personal life very separate from his business life, and this detour into Grass Lake had quickly become business.
Sawyer was the answer to Dean’s prayers. It had been a long time since he had heard someone sing with such real emotion. He had noticed it during the Johnny Cash cover; he had felt it during the second song. Dean needed to talk to this guy and get him in front of Landon immediately.
With her hands on her hips and her chin tipped down, Faith frowned in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s amazing, Faith. I could introduce him to some people in the business. Does he write his own stuff?”
Her eyes gave away her wariness. She folded her arms across her chest. “Sometimes.”
That was a plus and made the guy that much more desirable. “I have a legitimate record label with real artists signed to it. He could have a real music career.”
“My brother helps me run the farm. Singing is what he does for fun, not for a living.”
Before he could explain how that could change, Faith was called away by another customer. Dean had worked at the Strattons’ horse farm and equine therapy center that last summer in Grass Lake. It was a worthwhile business, but Dean knew how much work went into it. Hopefully, Sawyer would be a little more excited about Dean’s proposition than his sister was. He was exactly what Grace Note Records had been looking for—young, attractive and, most importantly, talented.
Bringing in a potential new artist would ease Landon’s mind and keep him from giving up on their company. Without Landon, Dean would have to close up shop. He didn’t have the capital to buy his partner out.
The rest of Sawyer’s set finished strong. It didn’t matter if he was singing a cover or an original, the songs all sounded as if every note belonged to him. He had a unique sound that would do well on the radio.
Faith approached her brother as soon he stepped off the tiny corner stage. She whispered in his ear and he immediately glanced in Dean’s direction. The two siblings exchanged a few more words before Sawyer made his way to the bar.
“Dean Presley—long time, no see.” Sawyer Stratton looked more like his father than the boy Dean had once known. He had big, brown, soulful eyes and chiseled features that would definitely make women swoon when he was on stage. There was nothing scrawny about him and he might have been an inch or two taller than Dean. “You got something against umbrellas?”
Dean could only imagine how ridiculous he looked as the two men shook hands. He ran a hand through his towel-dried hair and glanced down at the puddle of water that had collected under his bar stool. He was a wreck.
“I’ve got nothing against umbrellas. I would have loved an umbrella tonight.”
“You in town for the weekend? Your mom didn’t mention you were coming home when I saw her earlier this week.”
Dean loved his mother, but he would have to convince Sawyer not to mention this visit. “I wasn’t planning on being in town at all. I was headed back to Nashville after a scouting trip to Birmingham. If my car hadn’t gotten a flat, I never would have heard you sing. You were a million times more entertaining than the band I saw earlier tonight. Did you write some of that set yourself?”
“About half.”
“Ever post songs on the internet? Have any social media presence?”
“Nope. No time for that. Only place I play is right here,” Sawyer said.
“What if I told you I could give you lots of time to play music?”
“Oh, yeah? You want to make me the next Boone Williams?” Sawyer snickered like it was a joke.
Country star Boone Williams had been the first to sign with Dean’s label after the singer had a falling out with his record company. At the time, it had seemed like a huge win. Little had Dean and Landon known the problem was more Boone than it was his label.
It had been five years since the megastar recorded an album and three years of nothing but bad press. Stories of infidelity, drug and alcohol problems, divorce and a child custody war circulated ad nauseam. Dean had convinced Boone to go to rehab, but the guy was still in a fragile state, claiming with his sobriety had come a complete loss of creativity. There were no songs to record in his near future.
Lately all Boone did was cost Dean money. Sawyer would not become another Boone. Dean’s gut told him he had a gold mine in front of him. “I want to make you the next Sawyer Stratton.”
Sawyer called Faith over. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. Her slender neck and apple cheeks were slightly flushed. She had always been pretty but that word no longer did her justice. Dean hated himself for drinking her in.
“Something tells me you put him up to this,” Sawyer said to his sister. “If this is payback for telling Charles Hackney you like guys who wear tight jeans and big belt buckles, so help me...”
Faith poked her brother in the chest. “Don’t you dare mention tight jeans and Charles in the same sentence. I’m not sure I’ll be able to look at that man the same way ever again.”
Sawyer’s grin was wide and toothy. Something told Dean he was the same old troublesome younger brother he had been.
“Just tell the truth,” Sawyer demanded. “Are you two messing with me?”
“I’m not joking,” Dean insisted. “I need new artists and you’re the first real talent I’ve seen in a long time. I would love to hear you sing again.”
Sawyer gave him a light punch in the shoulder. “Well, flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Your mom is going to be ecstatic,” Faith said with a smile, leaving Dean to question what his mother had to do with this. If he was lucky, he’d
