A/N and Disclaimer: I own nothing as always thanks for reading and supporting. Also thank you for reviewing and all the new followers and folks who have favorited this story…

Chapter 5

Cedes

Nashville, Tennessee

December 24

The America's Newest Star Christmas Holiday Extravaganza had been taped live-to-air the night before Christmas, so the atmosphere on set was less intense than it usually was. Everyone was tired, and ready for the holiday. The day was spent shooting extras and short interviews with the contestants where they were asked to share their favorite holiday traditions, and what they were going to miss most about not being home for the holidays.

Cedes couldn't wait to get back to her apartment and enjoy the care package her grandma had left before heading to the airport to return to Ohio that morning. Cedes knew it was filled with familiar holiday goodies from home like homemade candy and cookies that she always used to make with her mom and grandma the days prior to Christmas dinner when they would save the baking of cakes and pies for Christmas Eve night.

She was packing up to leave when her cell phone rang. When she looked at the display screen her manager's name appeared under the nickname Lil Sis.

"Cedes we need to have a meeting. ASAP."

Cedes' heart immediately sank. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. But this meeting is urgent. I'm outside waiting for you right now."

Cedes headed outside the studio as quickly as she could. Once there, she made her way to Lauren's SUV.

"I know you want to know what is going on, but please no questions now," Lauren said. "We need to meet in a neutral location to discuss this. We can't risk anybody overhearing our conversation, and then you and Sam can decide whether or not you will agree to the proposition."

"And just where is this neutral location, Fort Knox?"

"No, we're actually going to Love Circle."

"That doesn't sound very neutral to me."

As Lauren drove her red BMW SUV through the city limits of Nashville, eventually pulling into the circular parking lot that surrounded the hilly area that they were currently at. There weren't many cars left at the popular tourist spot. Everyone was home probably celebrating Christmas Eve.

"I feel like I'm being kidnapped," Cedes admitted as they sat, waiting—for what, Cedes wasn't sure, but she presumed they were waiting for April and Sam to arrive.

"Don't be silly!" Lauren laughed her fake laugh, then darted a glance out the slightly open window. "You are not only my client, but I consider you a friend. Look, they just arrived. Okay, let's go and meet them there." She handed Cedes a flashlight and turned on a small lantern she held.

"Lauren, this is just—"

"Trust me, okay? Have I ever steered you wrong before?" Lauren led her toward the base of the hill, where Sam and April waited, holding flashlights, too. Sam seemed equally mystified—and mildly alarmed. "Hey," he said to Cedes, nodding his head. Things hadn't exactly been great with them lately. The only time they got along was when they were singing together. But still, she widened her eyes at him, as if to say, What the hell is this? Sam shrugged in response. At least they could agree on one thing: this outing did not make any sense.

"Come on, you two slow pokes," April called out. Rather than one of her customary sleek pantsuits, she had on an expensive-looking jogging suit and running shoes.

Cedes was glad she'd sworn off high heels for good as she climbed the hill to enter the park. She was painstakingly aware of Sam's presence right behind her until the view distracted her. "Wow."

All of Nashville was spread out before them, holiday lights glistening like rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. She felt a longing for her home in Lima, which would be blanketed in a cozy and festive layer of snow on Christmas Eve. But she also understood, seeing Nashville from this height, why astronauts who went to space said it changed them forever: because it gave you a new perspective. As she looked down at the city she had been trying to conquer for such a long time, Cedes realized it wasn't that big after all. She could see it from end to end. It had less power over her, from this viewpoint. She also felt a wave of affection for it, and wondered if that was why the spot they were at was called Love Park. How could you not love Nashville, seeing it like this?

April led them to a picnic table. April and Sam set their flashlights on the table, then Lauren pulled a bottle of champagne from her bag.

Sam frowned. "What are we celebrating and why must we be clandestine about it?"

"The two of you, of course. That gorgeous duet you sang has you two at the height of your popularity with viewers and Samcedes shippers right now." Lauren popped the cork while April produced paper cups and passed them around.

"We have a proposal," Lauren began. At this, April chuckled—and Cedes frowned. What was going on here?

"Yes," April chimed in. "Exactly. A proposal. I think we can all agree that 'hashtag' Samcedes, this incredible ship you've created, has immense potential."

"But," Lauren interjected, as Cedes found herself wondering if they'd practiced this little routine in advance. "You are only as good as the last news cycle. Right now, you are shiny, you are new, you are a curiosity. But that is all going to change, because in this industry change is constant. In order to launch you two into the stratosphere, we think that once this little charade is over—" At the word charade she waved her hand around as if shooing away a bug, and April took over. They had definitely practiced.

"—we need to make your breakup absolutely spectacular. Which means raising the stakes."

Cedes could feel Sam's body growing tense beside her. They had spent so much time together she understood his body language. She felt the same nervousness, too.

"What in the hell are you carrying on about?" she said.

"We think Sam needs to propose," April answered straight to the point.

"Have you both lost your ever loving minds?!" Sam exploded.

For her part, Cedes was unable to utter a single word—or to quite catch her breath.

"Listen before you both have a coronary attack," Lauren said. "And wipe those horrified expressions off your faces. You don't have to actually get married!" She laughed so hard her eyes teared up. "But what we need is for the public to think you're getting married. We need them to get completely invested in your upcoming wedding. The dress! The venue! The wedding party! The rumored musical guests! You'll be on the covers of all the magazines and tabloids every damn week. April and I did some calculations, and if you win both 'fan favorite' segments of the America's Newest Star competition, you win the whole damn thing. Guaranteed. And you two are a shoo-in for that."

"But," April said, her voice now dead serious. "Once the show ends, there will be nothing new for the news cycle. I mean, you'll have a few weeks, maybe a month if you're lucky, of people still being interested. Sam, you always get press, but it's not for the reasons you want. It's never about your music, and if we can keep attention on you two, we can get your music more attention, too. But you have to give them something new to chew on. Samcedes engagement will keep you two out there until we are ready for the breakups of all breakups."

"But," Sam said, trying to get a word in past April but failing miserably.

April just continued to talk over him. "The night you win the show, you cement your place in people's hearts when Sam, overcome by his emotions, drops down to one knee and asks for Cedes' hand in front of an audience of millions. Then, following a one-year engagement, just after you return to America's Newest Star to sing your song at the next year's holiday extravaganza, you'll break up in dazzling, public fashion preferably on live tv."

"Hell naw," Sam said.

Cedes was silent, though. She gazed down at the picnic table, where in the flickering lantern light she could see that someone had carved "Jake + Marley 4-ever and ever." Who knew where these two people were now? Still together? Probably not. All it took was one look at what had happened with Cedes' parents or her grandparents, to understand that true love was just a mirage.

Going all in on faking it, however, could potentially have its career benefits. Cedes turned to Sam slowly.

"Why not? If we're just pretending, what does it matter?"

"Are you serious, Cedes?" His expression was intense—maybe even scared. "You would actually want to pretend to be . . . engaged to be married to me?"

The way he said "engaged to be married to me" made it sound quite serious indeed. And, Cedes had to admit, it made her heart skip a beat and her body melt, if anyone had noticed. But no one did. And that was the point. The chemistry between Cedes and Sam had nothing to do with the real world. It only existed in the musical world, and this was a world in which Sam and Cedes both wanted to make a lasting impression on.

"Unfortunately, they have a point," Cedes said, looking at Sam. "This is a sure shot at our mutual goals. It means all this"—she waved her hand, attempting to be as blasé about it as Lauren had been—"will be worth something. It won't just be a one-and-done moment, forgotten about as soon as someone more interesting comes along."

Sam just stared at her, long and hard, as if seeing her for the first time—and not especially liking what he saw. She could see him gritting his teeth, and there it was: that familiar way his jaw got very tense.

"Sam, you understand fame," April said, and Sam began to look annoyed. He did understand it. He was famous. He wanted more, though. Sam wanted his own kind of musical legacy—Cedes knew that by now. And he didn't need her to get it. Not as much as she needed him.

April gave Sam a pointed look before continuing. "There are flashes in the pan, and then there are those chosen ones who become beloved, outside of any advantages they might have. You will get where you want to be—but only if you do what we say. Trust me on this."

Sam did trust April, Cedes knew this. But he was still extremely skeptical. "Do we have to get engaged?" he said. "Can't we just pretend to be together until that final performance next Christmas, and then break up? Won't that be enough for everyone?"

"It won't," Lauren said. "People will get bored. But if there's one thing people never get bored of, it's a royal wedding. And, Sam, you are Nashville royalty. And, Cedes, you are Cinderella—" Now it was Cedes' turn to grit her teeth. "We just need to take you one step further. This is that step. The step that will help make all your wishes come true. And all you have to do . . ."

"Is have a fake engagement," April concluded, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

Sam sighed as if someone had suggested that all he had to do to achieve his goal was agree to pluck out every single hair on his body with tweezers while standing buck naked in the snow. Cedes glowered at him, hating how hopeful she felt, how squarely her dreams rested in his huge hands.

"Alright," he finally said.

Cedes swallowed her surprise, then extended her hand, so they could shake on it. She looked into his eyes as they continued to hold onto each other's hands, and again she had that sensation of heat coursed through her body making her melt again.. It passed, though. This was a business agreement, nothing more. "We have a deal, then," Cedes said, reluctantly releasing his hand.

Lauren and April lifted their paper cups, full of champagne, and proposed a toast. But Sam just shook his head. "I'm not a champagne drinker. I will see you tomorrow, Cedes. Dinner is at seven, but Dwight likes a long cocktail hour, so come early."

He looked upset when he said this, and despite her frustration with him, Cedes also felt a pang of something else. He was clearly dreading dinner with his dad—when, meanwhile, Cedes would have given anything to be going home and having dinner with her family. They always ate early: turkey and ham, mashed potatoes, homemade macaroni and cheese, collard greens, and desserts. After eating the huge feast, they went for a long walk to look at Christmas lights with Marvin Jr.'s children. Then a few friends and even more family members stopped by for an open house, which was never really planned but somehow always happened, and out came the leftovers and desserts. Sadie and Cedes would sit at the piano together, playing their favorite holiday songs. Cedes had the sense Sam's mom and sister had given him the kind of safe harbor she felt she had when she went home. Now all he had was his dad who couldn't have been home a lot being as famous as he was.

As Cedes watched Sam walk away she decided something. If she was going to be a part of his life for one full year, maybe she could at least find a way to help him not look so miserable all the time—because a man who was supposed to be crazy in love and engaged to be married to her was supposed to look happy.

Cedes had an idea. Finding the perfect Christmas gift. It would be a good test for pretending to be engaged to him. If she could nail the perfect gift for Sam Evans, if she could actually make him smile, she knew she would also be able to make everyone in the world believe, for one full year, that she was madly in love with him. That she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life by his side.

"Lauren, could you please take me shopping. I need to find the perfect gift."

Sam

Nashville, Tennessee

December 25

Sam sat on the huge and impractical white leather couch in the opulent living room of his childhood home, where he had been staying for the past few weeks. The floors in his condo were being replaced, and moving home had seemed easier than temporarily relocating somewhere else for the month. Plus, with America's Newest Star's demanding schedule he'd figured he would barely be there.

He tried to focus on anything but his now-opened birthday gift, its glossy surface mirroring the twinkle lights from the Christmas tree. It was over the top, even for Dwight Evans—an acoustic 1956 Gibson SJ-200, vintage but in pristine condition and supposedly played by Elvis Presley at a concert in the sixties when his original guitar had too many broken strings to play during a concert. It was his spare and rarely touched since then.

"Why couldn't he have bought me, cufflinks? A watch?" Sam said to McConaughey his faithful companion. In truth, Sam had no idea what other families bought for birthdays. Everything had always been over the top in the Evans household.

McConaughey nuzzled his nose into the crook of Sam's neck and gave a long sigh.

"Exactly my point. I don't need this guitar. I have a guitar." Sure, it wasn't an SJ-200. It didn't hold the same pedigree, the patina was worn, and the sound could be finicky, depending on the humidity and temperature. But it belonged to his mom. She'd played it the one and only time she'd been onstage at the Grand Ole Opry.

"Chase after your own dreams, Sammy boy," his mom had told him when she gave it to him, just a decade earlier. Mary Ellen's once-melodic voice had been weak from the grueling chemo treatments, and she had numbness in her fingers, so couldn't play anymore. Though she'd had cancer, it was a bout of pneumonia that had resulted in her death only ten months after her diagnosis. Sam hadn't had nearly enough time with her.

So yes, his guitar was sentimental, but it was also a fine instrument, and it didn't need replacing.

Sam glanced at his watch, his anxiety ratcheting up. Cedes was due to arrive in about ten minutes. He was supposed to propose in a couple of days, after the finale. If being onstage playing a well-rehearsed song still caused him to break out in a nervous sweat, how would he manage getting down on one knee to propose to Cedes? That was a performance he wasn't sure he could pull off even though he had acted in several television shows due to April's insistence that it would help propel his music career.

And then there was the even bigger issue: Sam had complicated feelings toward Cedes. There, yeah, he admitted it. He couldn't shake the sense that this plan even if it was executed perfectly was going to backfire on him. . . big time because how could he not fall in love with her while pretending she was his when in his heart of hearts, he knew she could barely tolerate him..

So, I had just sung this line . . . You may know it, Cedes." Dwight leaned back against the overstuffed easy chair with his cocktail glass—three fingers of scotch—in hand and sang, "You are as fine as Tennessee whiskey . . ."

"I think I may have heard the song once or twice," Cedes said. It was one of Dwight's most famous songs, and a permanent fixture on the country music charts.

"So, this young woman is holding up a bottle of Tennessee whiskey. She was right near the front, but I couldn't see much. You know how bright those spotlights are." Dwight sipped his scotch. He no longer drank the way he had when Sam was younger—like a fish, whatever was within reach though he preferred an expensive glass of wine or a fine whiskey—but he had never committed to total sobriety.

"Anyway, I already had my bottle ready—I always did a shot of whiskey at that part of the song, and people loved it. Showbiz," Dwight said with a shrug. Sam stared into his beer, having heard this story a hundred times.

"But I stopped singing and said, 'Honey, why don't you come up and join me?' "

One of the household staff poked her head into the great room. "Mr. Evans, I'm heading out now," she said. "Everything is in the refrigerator, and I've made up the guest room."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Dwight said. Cedes glanced at Sam—she was not a fan of the term "sweetheart"—and he gave her a weak smile, because now she knew he had picked it up from his dad.

"So, security helped this young lady up onstage and it was then that I saw the problem." He laughed, caught up in the memory.

"What was it?" Cedes asked, taking a small sip of her own drink—a glass of red wine that she had been nursing for a while.

"She was only wearing a shirt" Dwight exploded with more laughter, delighted by his own storytelling. "I hadn't been able to see her legs, so had no idea she had half stripped before coming up on the stage."

Cedes gave an appropriately placed gasp and said, "No, she didn't!"

"She sure did, darlin'." He took a gulp of his scotch. Sam set his half-finished beer down, the only drink he'd had all night, because the alcohol was making his stomach turn.

"I assure you I would not have invited her up if I'd known she was half naked. I am a father to a daughter after all," Dwight said. "But it was an honest mistake, and, well, the show must go on."

Sam didn't love the way Cedes seemed so enamored with his dad and his stories. He wasn't jealous—he was merely annoyed by the spotlight that followed his dad everywhere. The backdrop of Sam's life.

"What do you think, son? Should we open the lovely gifts Cedes brought for us?" Dwight turned to their guest. "You being here is a gift for both of us, isn't that right, Sammy?"

"Hmm-hmm," Sam replied quietly. "The gift that just keeps on giving'."

Cedes, who was close enough to hear his quip, cleared her throat. But her smile never faltered. Why did you say that? Sam silently berated himself. Why did he turn into such a jerk when she was around?

She went to the Christmas tree—dripping in silver and gold records and musical instruments and musical notes decorations that sparkled with hundreds of miniature white lights—and pulled a couple of presents out from underneath its lowest branches.

"This is for you," she said, handing a large, square package wrapped in festive paper with a shiny white bow on its top to Dwight. Then she handed two wrapped gifts to Sam, one that was in a rectangular box (again with a large white bow), and one that was somewhat awkwardly shaped. Cedes pointed at that one. "That's for McConaughey Evans."

Hearing his name, McConaughey got up from his pillow and sauntered over the cushions to Cedes, where he turned around exactly five times and then settled with a little grunt right up against her leg.

"Well, what do we have here?" Dwight asked, pulling the wrapping paper off. Inside the box was a sweet potato bread, in the shape of an elongated letter "D" and covered in a layer of powdered sugar. "Did Sam tell you about my sweet tooth?"

Cedes just smiled. Of course, Sam hadn't told her a thing about Dwight, because his father was his least favorite topic. "It's my grandma's recipe. My grandad always wanted sweet potato pie and she preferred pecan pies, so in compromise she came up with a recipe for sweet potato bread that she taught me how to make when I was twelve, and I have been making it ever since on the holidays. It's the only dessert that she and my mother will allow me to fix for our yearly feast."

Sam saw a wistful look pass over Cedes' face, and he felt awful that she was spending Christmas with him and his dad instead of her own family. He wasn't Dwight's biggest fan, but there were still plenty of good memories for Sam in this house, especially during the holidays, which had been his mom's favorite time of year.

Sam knew Cedes must have spent the night baking because with the show she couldn't have time to cook it early. She really shouldn't have gone through the trouble. He smiled at her, then pointed to the two packages on his lap.

"Which one first?"

"McConaughey's of course," she replied.

Sam opened the gift—a bag of organic chicken jerky treats—and shook it. McConaughey's head snapped up. "Look what Cedes got for you, boy." He took one out and handed it to Cedes, who then gave it to McConaughey.

"You're his best friend now," Sam said, and sure enough, McConaughey crawled up on Cedes's lap and leaned against her chest, staring at her adoringly.

Cedes petted the dog and rubbed his sweet spot. "Okay, now you, Sam."

With a few rips, Sam had his gift open. His hands paused for a moment when he realized what it was. "Oh, wow." He looked over at her, again surprised by her thoughtfulness. "Thank you so very much, Cedes."

It was an olive green linen arts and crafts bag, all one piece with a wide handle.

"Ah. Well, isn't that thoughtful, Sammy?"

"It is," Sam replied quietly.

Sam got up from the couch and pulled a small, gold-paper-wrapped gift from under the tree. He handed it to Cedes.

"I really wasn't expecting you to get me anything," she said, looking surprised as she took it from him. Their fingers touched briefly, and a spark traveled between them. Sam had an almost overwhelming urge to keep holding her hand. When she pulled away, he felt a rush of disappointment.

"Oh," she said, her voice low. She stared at the gift in her hands, and for a moment Sam thought she hated it. He felt incredibly stupid—it had been a last-minute idea. What sort of boyfriend didn't give his girlfriend a Christmas gift?

But then she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she said. "I love them."

"I'm, uh, glad," Sam said, taken slightly aback. This was a version of Cedes he wasn't really familiar with—open and effusive with her affections. She saw the sculpture he had made of her grandmother with the wig and pearls on.

"It was so you could remember your grandma's time in Nashville with you," Sam said, turning a bit red.

"It's the perfect gift." Cedes held it in her hands, admiring the gift. Sam was really talented.

"Now, come on, you two lovebirds. I think you can do better than a peck on the cheek," Dwight said. "Go on now. Don't hold back on my account. I am jiggy with interracial love."

For a moment the two of them stood statue still, facing one another. Then Cedes put her arms back around Sam's neck, and he wondered if her heart was beating as quickly as his. She leaned into him, going up on her toes. They were mere inches apart when Cedes paused. Sam paused, too, and whispered, "Okay?"

When Cedes gave an almost imperceptible nod, he closed the distance between them. Her full and luscious lips were warm and tasted of red wine. Sam's knees almost gave out. Apparently, their voices weren't the only things that fit together perfectly. He closed his eyes, the pressure of her lips and her abundant curves were tight against him making him unsteady. A long moment later she pulled away and whispered, "Merry Christmas, Sam."

"Merry Christmas, Cedes," he replied. He felt feverish from the kiss, and noticed a bashful look in her eyes that hadn't been there earlier. He wished they could do that again and again and again all night long. Finally, he was having a merry Christmas indeed..

Sam had almost forgotten they weren't alone, until Dwight said, "How about you take Cedie out for some fresh air, to see the stars, Sammy?"

Cedes, seeming flustered, glanced at her watch. "I should probably get going."

"Why on earth would you do that?" Dwight said. "We have a guest room all ready for you. Unless you'd rather share with Sam?"

"Dad!" Sam exclaimed. He didn't know what else to say because, of course, if he and Cedes were the couple they said they were, they would want to share a bed. They were adults in their thirties after all.

"The guest room is perfect, thank you. Sam snores," Cedes quickly replied.

Dwight chuckled, and Sam frowned. He did not snore, and if he did, how would she even know. He then realized why she made the excuse and felt like an idiot.

"I had Millie set out some toiletries and some nightclothes," Dwight said.

"Thank you, I couldn't refuse such a kind and generous offer of hospitality."

"It's settled, then." Dwight capped the crystal whiskey decanter after refilling his glass, grinning at the happy couple.

"I'm so sorry about my dad. The whole sharing a room thing. And that story . . ." Sam paused, drawing in a deep breath. The two sat in comfortable lounge chairs outside on the screened in deck which was lit up with red, green, and white twinkle lights—festive and bright against the dark night sky.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Cedes replied. "Thanks for inviting me, Sam. If I wasn't here I would be . . . I don't know. Eating mac and cheese and sweet potato bread for dinner along with the desserts my grandma left?"

"Well, technically I didn't invite you." Sam looked out at the black sky, noting the stars were putting on quite the show. And now that he was out in the cool air he felt better—like he could take a full breath, finally.

"Why do you always have to do that?" The irritation in her voice was hard to miss.

"Do what?"

She turned to him. Her face lit up by the Christmas lights. Sam couldn't ignore how beautiful Cedes looked tonight. In moments like this he felt confused about how he was supposed to act toward her. They spent a lot of their time convincing everyone around them that they were more than just duet partners. It wasn't real, of course. Sure, some days he did experience more than a comfortable friendship with Cedes. Yet, other days he wished he didn't have to listen to her tell him all the ways he was a jerk, like right now.

"It's like you go out of your way to be mean to me and others. To make sure people don't like you or get to know the real you," Cedes said.

Sam leaned back in the chair, let out a sigh. "Unfortunately what you see is what you get."

"That's bullcrap, and you know it," she retorted.

He noted her mouth held in a tight line, her arms crossed over her chest, God, if she wasn't as gorgeous when she was mad at him as when she wasn't. He thought back to the kiss, only ten minutes before. Sam knew it didn't mean anything, and yet . . . he couldn't stop thinking about it. Which had to mean something.

"Why do you always wanna be starting something Cedes? Can we just spend time together on Christmas in heavenly peace?" Sam asked, trying to shift his focus away from her full lips and how they had felt against his own. "It is Christmas after all."

"Sure," Cedes replied with a huff. "Whatever you want, Sam."

Sam had been on edge much of the evening, especially when he thought about his birthday gift, or the fact that he had agreed to propose to Cedes in a couple of days. But none of that was Cedes' fault. And even though she could start an argument with herself, she didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of his frustrations. He was about to apologize for being "mean" when he noticed Cedes shivering.

"Are you cold?"

"No." Her body shook with a strong shiver.

Sam went to the pool house and grabbed two thick blankets, soft and warm. "Come here." He wrapped the woolen plaid blanket around her shoulders.

"Better?" Sam asked.

They both looked out across the darkened, expansive lawn that in the light of day had trees, gardens, and a stable for horses.

"This place is majestic I can't imagine what it was like growing up here." Cedes' tone had softened.

Sam took a moment before responding. "Things often look better from the outside," he finally said. "It wasn't always so . . . nice."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that," Cedes said. "Sure, it's impressive as hell. You have six bathrooms!"

"Actually, there are seven bathrooms."

"Oh, only seven bathrooms? You poor thing." Cedes turned the corners of her mouth down into an exaggerated frown, which made Sam laugh.

"I know it's extravagant. I can only imagine how this all looks to you."

"It looks too good to be true," Cedes replied. "But what I meant is that I think it would have been a bit lonely to grow up like this. My family isn't exactly huge, but our kitchen was small enough that even when it was only around ten us for Christmas dinner, it felt like we filled the space right up. Our dining table with an extra leaf was pretty tiny, even with a smaller kids table set up nearby which was just my grandma's card table. The two of them together pale in comparison to that yacht-sized thing you have in there." Cedes pointed back over her shoulder, and Sam laughed again. Their dining table could comfortably fit twenty guests.

"There were a lot of touching elbows and getting your sleeves in the food if you were not careful," Cedes added nostalgically.

"That sounds awesome to me." Sam smiled as he pictured a younger Cedes with her long sleeves dragging through food. "Y'all cozied up like that for dinner."

"It was," she replied. "I know you were probably surrounded by a lot of people all the time, but they worked for your parents, right? No one was here simply because they wanted to be."

Sam sat quietly, his heart beating quickly again. Cedes stated the thing he had spent much of his adult life so far trying to reconcile. How you could feel so lonely when you were never alone.

All people saw was the luxury of being an Evans. The gates, the huge home full of expensive items, the number of staff needed to keep the household running, the random people who came and went, taking all his father's attention—including at times when Sam had needed it most, like after his mom had died. It was partly why Sam believed his sister, Stacie, had no interest in the music business and had gone to finishing school and college abroad and then never came back. It was also why he missed his mom more than ever. Mary Ellen had brought life and warmth to the house in a way no one else had since.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Cedes reached out from under her blanket and laid a hand on Sam's arm. "You know, I should probably go. I never planned to stay over, and we have to rehearse tomorrow."

"First, you didn't upset me, Cedes. You just pretty much summed up my life," Sam replied. "And I want you to stay. It's late. We can head to the studio together in the morning."

There was a moment of silence between them, and then Cedes said, "I am pretty excited to see if your father's housekeeper guessed my size and if I am even able to wear the pjs."

Sam let out a huge laugh, leaning his head back. "My father has a bunch of brand new pajamas of various sizes in this house."

"Who has brand-new sets of pajamas, in multiple sizes, just lying around?"

"You don't know the half of it," Sam replied.

Cedes chuckled, but then suddenly went quiet. Sam turned toward her. "Are you really okay?"

"Sam . . . do you think we're going to win?" she asked. The carefree Cedes from a moment ago was gone.

Sam paused, then nodded. "Yeah, probably, so."

"Really? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better, because I . . ." She shook her head, her voice shaky.

"Hey now, what's going on?"

"This is it for me, Sam. I'm done in Nashville if this doesn't work out."

Sam took that in, realizing that despite their many differences, America's Newest Star represented the end of the line for both of them. It was the most vulnerable he had ever seen her. Suddenly, he wanted to fix everything.

He reached out to hold her hand, and then gave it a little shake until she looked at him. "We're going to win, Cedes Jones. You won't be able to leave Nashville, even if you want to. I promise."

It was then he knew that regardless of how they came to be duet partners, or how much Cedes could get under his skin, or how frustrated he was with his own life, he would do whatever it took to keep this promise to her. He would even find a way to pull off the proposal.

Cedes squeezed his hand in response. "Thank you for saying that."

"It's the truth, Cedes."

"It's the truth," Cedes repeated, smiling at him. "Well, we should probably turn in. Early start tomorrow."

"Yep, we have to keep our 'instruments' rested," Sam said, clearing his throat and giving her a wink. He set his hands on his knees, readying to get up. "Speaking of instruments, do you want a guitar?"

Cedes laughed. "You really are a spoiled Nashville prince."

Sam shrugged. "I already have a guitar. So if you want it, it's yours. I'm serious."

"Sam, I can't take your vintage Gibson SJ-200, which was played by Elvis Presley!"

"How did you know that?" They hadn't talked about the gift, which he had tucked under the Christmas tree before Cedes arrived.

"Your dad told me all about it while you took McConaughey out for a walk after dinner."

"Of course he did." Sam sighed. "Well, fine. You don't have to take it, but I'm never playing it."

Cedes was quiet, and he couldn't quite read her expression when he glanced over at her. "You have to work your crap out, Sam Evans. I can't help you fix what is obviously broken between you and your dad."

He inhaled deeply. "Yeah, I know. I am sorry for taking my frustrations out on you. You didn't deserve it. It is just this time of year that makes me miss my mom more than ever and instead of using the coping mechanisms I gained in therapy, I revert back to the age I was when she passed. I want you to enjoy your night here. It is Christmas. And your being here really made the day special."

"I can't understand because I never had any relationship with my dad at all, but I will be praying for you and your dad. Second chances are so important. I won't preach, but I will leave you with one thought: How would your mom feel about you treating her husband like this? Goodnight Sam and sweet dreams." Mercedes said before walking away from a man that she couldn't explain why she was so drawn to him especially after that amazing kiss. They hadn't sung together all night, so she knew that it was much more than musical compatibility.