Instead, he kept his hands on the wheel while she fed him Chick-fil-A nuggets and waffle fries.
They’d stopped only long enough to walk Archie, fill up the Impala, grab a bite for dinner just outside of Jackson. Twice, he’d managed to trap the tip of her index finger between his front teeth, run his tongue over it, and suckle it before setting her free.
Both times, he heard her breath catch.
“Delicious,” he whispered the second time.
She giggled and popped a waffle fry into her mouth.
It was just after seven o’clock, and they would make it back to Lafayette around ten-thirty if there weren’t any accidents on the basin bridge. Jacques wondered when he should tell Rainey that he wouldn’t be taking her home.
He wasn’t ready to let her go, and she needed to meet Pal sooner or later. It might as well be over coffee in the morning. Given her stubbornness and what he guessed would be her hesitation to sleep under his grandfather’s roof, Jacques figured he might need the three-or-so hours to convince her. He was about to launch into his argument when his phone rang.
Again.
Kate had called while he’d waited for Rainey in the music studio, and he’d ignored it. She’d called again while he was filling up the car an hour ago, and here she was again. Obviously, the girl couldn’t wait for him to get back to her. The lanes in front and behind were empty, so Jacques swiped his finger across the screen and held the phone to his ear.
“Hello,” he said, finishing the bite of waffle fry Rainey had just fed him.
“Gilchrist! What the hell? I’ve been trying to reach you for two frickin’ days!” Kate’s cranky rasp burst through the phone and had Jacques pulling the device away to preserve his hearing.
“Like I told you Sunday, on a road trip with my girl,” he said, grinning at Rainey.
She grinned back and took a sip of her soda.
Jacques realized if he kissed her then, she’d taste like root beer and bliss.
“You can’t answer the damn phone?” Kate shrieked, pulling him away from his kissing fantasy. “Don’t you know what it means when someone leaves you a voicemail saying ‘Call the fuck back! Like now!’?”
Jacques could only chuckle at her tirade. “I called you back last night. You didn’t answer,” he defended lightly. “But you have my attention now. What’s up? We got another gig?”
“No, dumbass, we’ve got a record deal.”
The blood vessels in Jacques’s ears must have dilated because as soon as he heard Kate’s words, all sound went gauzy and muted with a hum. Like he’d pressed seashells up to his ears. Moving stiffly, he flicked on the Impala’s blinker, glanced in the rearview to check for traffic, and aimed for the shoulder.
“Jacques, what’s wrong?” Rainey questioned him with rounded eyes.
He couldn’t find the words to reassure her, and his hands held the steering wheel and phone, so he couldn’t say what he needed to say with touch.
“Gilchrist?” Kate’s impatient voice seemed to echo from a great distance.
Angling the car safely away from the traveling lanes, Jacques came to a stop. Archie stood up on the seat behind them, excited that they’d soon be taking a walk.
“Jacques? Babe, everything okay?” Rainey’s hand was now on his knee. Worry etched her brow.
Her touch seemed to ground him because then the words were there. “It’s fine,” he managed. “Good news.”
“Fuck, yeah, it’s good news,” Kate growled. “JAG wants to sign us.”
Jacques choked. “JAG… As in Jagjaguwar…” He swallowed and tried again. “As in the label of Bon Iver… and Foxygen… and Mighty Tiger…”
“Yeah, that JAG,” Kate said, a grin of satisfaction now evident in her voice.
Jacques quickly switched the phone to his left hand and grabbed Rainey’s with his right. “Holy shit,” he breathed, his voice going a little shaky. Everything was going a little shaky.
Rainey’s fingers tightened around his, and in her eyes, he saw comprehension.
“JAG?” she mouthed, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth.
“When are you getting back? We need to talk, like, yesterday,” Kate complained. “My dad’s looked over the offer, and he says they’re — and I quote — ‘sufficiently motivated.’ But we all need to sign off on this, so don’t leave us hanging, Gilchrist.”
Jacques blew out a breath to settle his nerves. “We’re headed back tonight. We’ll be back in a few hours.” He let his eyes lock with Rainey’s, wanting to share this moment with her. He could see she understood the significance of it. Her eyes were wide and shining, and she wore a smile that seemed to hold pride, happiness for him, and something else. Something deeper.
Acceptance?
Kate’s voice broke through his musings. “So, that means you can meet us tomorrow at my dad’s office at like ten o’clock, right?”
Jacques blinked. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Don’t give me that guessing bullshit,” Kate groused. “Will you be there or not?”
Jacques shook his head at his irascible bandmate. It was a good thing playing with her and the other girls was the best gig he’d ever known. “You’re kind of bossy, you know that, Crawford?”
“I’ve been told,” she admitted. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He stifled a laugh. No need to make her any more unbearable than she already was. “Of course, I’ll be there. No one wants this more than me.”
His response must have pleased her because her voice softened — as much as Kate Crawford’s voice could soften. “Good. I…” She paused.
Jacques’s attention piqued. Kate was never at a loss for words.
“…I got a little worried when you up and took off this week.”
Jacques couldn’t resist. “Kate Crawford, did you miss me?” he teased.
At his words, Rainey grinned anew. He gently lifted her hand to his lips and marked it with a silent kiss. Her eyes held his with warmth.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Kate barked, but he could tell she was smiling. “But I’m glad to know you’re headed back.”
“Yes,” he reassured. “I’ll be there tomorrow. Wouldn’t miss it.”
They were silent for a moment. “So…” Kate rasped. “You said you were with your girl… That all working out?”
Jacques’s grin was automatic and full-force. Despite her thorns, Kate Crawford was a romantic.
“Yes, I think so.” His own voice went soft at the words. He watched Rainey’s brow arch with curiosity.
“Does that mean I’ll get more songs?”
Jacques laughed. “Definitely.”
“Good,” she said on a scratchy laugh. “Then get your ass home. And if we sign this thing tomorrow, we’re going out to celebrate. You can bring your girl.”
Jacques could imagine few things sweeter than celebrating a record deal with Rainey by his side. His smile was almost painful. “Looking forward to it.”
Kate ended the call without a goodbye. Jacques set the phone down on the dash and locked eyes with Rainey.
“You’ve been offered a record deal,” she said, a tremor in her voice.
He still held her hand in his, so he picked it up and smoothed her fingers with his thumb. “That just happened, right?” he asked, his gaze moving between her eyes. “I didn’t just dream it?”
He watched her swallow and smile. “You didn’t just dream it,” she said with a little shake of her head. “And if you dreamed it before now, it just came true.”
Jacques let the words sink in for a moment before he grabbed Rainey in his arms and crushed her to him.
“Oh, my God,” he murmured, unable to say much else. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her and how perfect the moment was for him because she was by his side. How he’d never forget the beauty of it. He brought his lips to her ear. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re the one I get to share this with.”
Her arms around him squeezed ti
ght before she pulled back to meet his gaze. “Jacques, I’m so happy for you.”
And, indeed, an earnest happiness filled her eyes, but again, he saw another emotion there. The same acceptance or resignation he’d read in them when he’d spoken to Kate.
His eyes narrowed. “But what?” he asked softly.
He watched her blink in surprise at his question. “But nothing. You’re incredibly talented, and the band is perfection,” she proclaimed, conviction sparking in her eyes and straightening her spine. “You all deserve this.”
Her insistence pulled at the corners of his mouth. He’d had few supporters in his life, but Jacques now felt certain that the universe had settled that debt in Rainey.
“It means a lot that you think that,” he said, resting a hand against her cheek and letting his thumb caress her soft skin. “I can’t tell you how much.”
Beneath his fingers, he felt her jaw tighten, and she bit her lips as though she were holding something back. He looked into her eyes and found them shining.
“What is it?” he asked on a whisper. “What are you not saying?”
She shook her head and blinked. “It’s just… wonderful news,” she said, giving him a watery smile that turned his heart to melted butter. Rainey was welling up for him, but he sensed her feelings were complex and, if his guess were correct, somewhat painful, too.
“But there’s something else. Tell me what it is.”
Rainey looked down so he was now looking at the top of her head. He watched her turn it from side to side. “I’d rather not.”
The sight was so sweet, he almost laughed, but he ran his hand over her hair instead and kissed her part. “I won’t be able to get us back on the road until I know what’s up,” he said gently.
At last, she raised her chin until her eyes met his. Their shine had gone, and a look of resolve had come over her. “I want this for you,” she said, her gaze unflinching.
He gathered a handful of her curls into his fist and gripped tight. “I know you do,” he said, waiting for more.
She drew in a long breath through her nose. “I just wish we’d had more time.”
Jacques’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you using past tense?” he asked, frowning.
Rainey said nothing, and a thrill of fear ran down the length of his body. On instinct, the hand that wasn’t wrapped in her hair reached for her waist.
“What are you saying?”
She blinked. “You’ll go.”
Realization struck him like a bolt from the blue. They’d come full circle. Right back to the reason she hadn’t wanted to get involved with him in the first place.
“You think I’ll go,” he corrected, noting the difference.
Rainey rolled her eyes. “You’ll go. It’s inevitable.’’
Jacques shook his head. “No, it’s not.” Then he heaved a frustrated sigh. “I mean, yeah, I will go, but I’ll always come back. Always.”
She looked up at him under her lashes, and instead of appearing convinced or comforted, she regarded him with a maddening look of condescension. As if she were indulging his naiveté. Jacques gritted his teeth.
“You don’t believe me,” he growled.
Her expression softened, and her eyes moved between his. “It’s not that I don’t believe your intentions,” she said, bringing a hand to his cheek. “I just know all too well how this works.”
Jacques narrowed his eyes. The blood in his veins seemed to simmer. “I should have beaten the shit out of your dad when I had the chance.”
This declaration earned him a grudging smile. “I can’t say I disagree with you, but I don’t think it would help matters.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he said, not smiling at all. What if Rainey needed a clear and unequivocal demonstration that the way Dylan Reeves had treated her was completely unacceptable? Wouldn’t she be able to better trust Jacques if she watched him punish her father for what he’d done?
Jacques could feel his pulse in his head as his temper threatened to get the better of him. He inhaled through his nose. No, of course assaulting her father wouldn’t have improved her opinion of him.
But it sure made for a gratifying fantasy.
And since physical violence was off the table, Jacques had only one course of action.
He blew out his breath. “I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong,” he said.
They pulled into Pal’s driveway closer to eleven o’clock. An accident on the Atchafalaya span had slowed traffic to a crawl on the last leg of their journey, but Jacques wasn’t complaining. Rainey had fallen asleep just after ten, and she hadn’t stirred when he pulled off the interstate and onto University Avenue. This meant that she couldn’t object to his plan to take her home with him.
The crunch of gravel beneath his tires and the silence that filled the car when he killed the engine must have been enough to do the trick. Beside him, Rainey inhaled a yawn, stretched in her seat, and opened her eyes. Archie stood up on the back seat and pranced, clearly excited about the prospect of getting out of the car.
Jacques watched Rainey’s eyes focus out the windshield before she frowned. “Where are we?” Her voice was an adorably sleepy croak.
“At my house. C’mon. You get Archie. I’ll get our things.”
She jolted. “But — but aren’t you taking me home?” she asked, frowning.
He opened the car door and unfolded himself before ducking his head back into the cab and laying it out in a way he hoped would leave no room for argument. “No, because you’re staying with me.”
Jacques watched her mouth fall open, but he didn’t wait for her to respond before he shut the door. Still, he heard her muffled protest.
“Wait. Jacques—” Her passenger door flew open, and she jumped out of the car. “What? I-I can’t stay here. In your grandfather’s house? That’s… that’s crazy.”
He rounded the back of the Impala and popped the trunk. “No, it isn’t. I live here, too. I’m a grown man, and I can bring home anyone I want.” He slung her backpack and his duffle bag over his shoulder and lifted out his guitar case. Then he shut the trunk with the firmness of finality. “And I want you.”
His watched the effect of his words jolt her frame. Her eyes widened. “But what will your grandfather think of me?”
Jacques moved to her, stopping just before he reached her. He opened the rear passenger door, found the end of Archie’s leash, and guided the dog out of the car. “The truth,” he said, shutting the car door. “That you’re damn important to me.”
If his earlier statement jolted her, this one made her soften. He watched it happen, the way her shoulders eased and her hips shifted, and the sight sent a current straight to his sex. Jacques draped his free arm around her and steered her toward the house, fully prepared for her to dig her heels into the gravel and refuse to budge, but she fell into step beside him and they ascended the front porch steps.
He fished out his keys and unlocked the front door. “Now, Pal will be asleep, so we need to be quiet going up the stairs,” he whispered.
The front door swung open noiselessly, and Archie poked his nose inside, sniffing the air. As always, the house was completely dark, the only light coming from the glow of the streetlamps filtering through the windows.
“I can’t see a thing,” Rainey whispered.
Jacques grabbed her hand. “Here,” he said, moving her grip to the back of his jeans. “Follow me.”
It would be hard enough going up the stairs with his guitar case in one hand and a dog leash in the other — especially when it was connected to an excited dog who was encountering new territory. They couldn’t possibly negotiate the narrow staircase side by side without knocking the guitar case against the wall and waking Pal.
“Okay,” she breathed, grabbing on.
And so they climbed the stairs, Archie surging forward, his toenails scrambling on the wood of the stairs and making Jacques wince. But soon enough, they were in his room, and Jacques closed and
locked the door behind them.
He left the light off.
His bare windows let in enough light for the outline of his furniture to stand out in relief. Jacques set down his guitar and their bags, and as soon as he dropped Archie’s leash, the dog wasted no time jumping onto Jacques’s bed.
“Archie!” Rainey whisper-scolded.
Jacques turned to her and placed his hands on her hips. “It’s alright. He knows the score.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, still watching the silhouette of her dog on his bed.
He slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt and found the soft welcome of her skin. His already eager cock leaped with the contact. Jacques brought his lips to the slope of her neck. “He goes where you go. And he’s figured out that no matter where we are, you sleep with me.”
His lips felt the working of her throat as she swallowed. Her body swayed into him just a fraction, and he took full advantage, wrapping an arm low across her back and tugging her against him so he knew she felt the press of his desire.
She sucked in a startled breath. “Jacques—”
But before she could say more, he covered her mouth with his. In her, he tasted belonging… purpose… home. Jacques knew no matter where he journeyed, he’d return to her again and again. She was his true north.
He had to make her understand.
“Rainey…” His hands traveled up the sides of her waist, lifting her shirt as he went. Her hands anchored at his shoulders. He pulled the shirt up over her bra before she made a show of protesting.
“Jacques, your grandfather…”
“Is asleep,” he finished. “And I want to make you mine in my own bed.” At his words, he felt her knees give just a little against him. He tugged her shirt the rest of the way and tossed it behind him. Holding her against him in one arm, he kissed his way down her neck and let his free hand slide up her ribs and along the curve of her bra until he found the friendly little clasp between her breasts, and with a single flick, the cups sprang open, and his hands and mouth were full of her.
“Oh…” she panted, her chest heaving against him.
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