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Paisley swivels her head and peers over at me from beneath fringed eyelashes. “Let’s send this off to Barry. And then I have to get back to work.”

November 14

I don’t know if it’s the emotional roller coaster I’ve been on for the past few months, all the pressure I’ve been under to deliver a sample, the fresh country air, or the cute girl I’ve been spending time with, but I slept like a log last night. I roll out of bed just after one, feeling refreshed. As soon as I make some real money and have a place of my own, I’m going to buy myself one of these plush, king-sized mattresses.

Paisley gave me the heads-up that weekends at Hidden Acres keep her busy with a steady stream of customers, so we decided to take the weekend off from songwriting. I start out grateful to have a quiet day to myself. I lounge around the apartment for a while, checking in on my folks and Granddad, and watching college football on Saturday (go, Volunteers!), but by halftime, I find I really miss being around Paisley. I’ve never really missed anyone like this before.

It’s funny: She’s out there on the farm, in the pine trees, and here I am, holed up in the Hideaway, pining for her.

I wonder if I can write a song about that?

Eventually, boredom gets to me. I haven’t lurked on Six String Justice’s social media lately, but all this extra time on my hands has me pulling up their latest posts.

6StringJustice:

Don’t believe the rumors. The three of us will be just fine.

6StringJustice:

Check out Nashville Music Scene’s interview with band leader Justin Foster.

6StringJustice:

Lineup change! Let’s give a warm welcome to Bryce Skeen, our new drummer.

Whoa. Looks like trouble is brewing and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.

November 16

I’m due to meet Paisley in the loft in an hour, so it comes as a real surprise when she shows up out of the blue banging on my door at eight a.m.

I throw on a pair of pants and rush downstairs to find her standing on the front porch wearing jeans under a plaid button-down jacket with a festive red scarf tucked under the collar and carrying a large white bucket with a metal handle. Her hair is pulled into a loose braid and some of the strands have worked themselves free in a very appealing way.

“Morning,” I say as I open the door. I blink at the sunlight and rub the lingering drowsiness from my eyes with one hand while I lean my shoulder against the doorjamb.

Paisley looks up, her eyes going wide at the sight of my bare chest. She quickly averts her gaze and steps back, and I notice her cheeks have turned a rosy pink. I barely contain my grin.

“Something came up and I won’t be able to work with you today. I’m sorry.”

If I was thinking straight, I would be worried about how another lost day of work will affect me delivering my demo by the deadline, but my first thoughts are about how I hope it’s nothing serious and how much I’ve missed spending time with Paisley over the past two days.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Paisley’s dark eyes flash over me before she looks away again.

Tomorrow feels like a long way off. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Actually,” Paisley says, the sparkle of an idea lighting up her face. “Put on a shirt, grab your boots, and come with me. I think we can multitask.”

“What is that?” I stare down at the walnut-sized brown ball hanging on a fir tree.

“That is a praying mantis ootheca,” Paisley says with a frown.

“Say what now?”

“It’s an egg sac. And they’re all over the trees in this grove.”

As far as I can tell, the egg sacs look a lot like tiny, harmless pine cones. “What’s the big deal?”

Paisley sighs and chews on her lip as she surveys the trees around us. “Have you ever seen the inside of a house covered in hundreds of tiny praying mantis babies?”