True For You (Boys of the South)

by Valentine, Marquita

  She smiles. “I know who you are. “

  He scratches at his jaw. “That makes one of us.”

  “We’ll be collaborating on your first single. I’m not a name like you, but I want to be.” She flutters her lashes at him.

  “Let’s see what you got,” he says, like she’s a challenge.

  Bean and Patrick look at each other. “Score.” They high five each other, while I want to cry. I want to scream.

  Jackson winks at June and she smiles, and then turns to look at the booth, piercing my heart with her confident gaze.

  They start singing together, their voices winding. “No,” I whisper. They sound better than he ever did with Violet or Callie.

  Jackson plays to her, singing a love song that makes my insides constrict and my stomach turn.

  When he’s done, he comes out of the studio, grinning like crazy and grabbing me up in a hug. “That felt so good, baby doll,” he whispers in my ear. “Let’s go home and you can put on one of those see-through teddys I bought you.”

  I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing at all and kiss him on the cheek. He sets me down and we say our good-byes to Patrick and Bean.

  As soon as we get home, Jackson is all over me, stripping away my clothes and my ability to remember why I’d gotten so upset earlier. He kisses me everywhere, hands following his lips, and I give in to him.

  “What about the lingerie?” I whisper, when he’s deep inside of me.

  “Next time.” He covers my mouth with his, his fingers lace with mine, his hips drive hard against me, and I’m lost.

  ***

  Over the next couple of weeks, a pattern sets in—one that I’m not sure I like or dislike.

  Jackson goes to business meetings, to photo-shoots, interviews, and the studio to record. I go with him everywhere, but the business meetings, even though he swears it would be no problem for me to sit in on them.

  Whenever he’s not in one of those, or at the studio, he’s making love to me. In bed, on the floor, the shower… on the kitchen table. I’m helpless to stop him, unable to say no, because I don’t want to stop him or say no. I want to be with him, making love every chance we get.

  But I can’t get it out of my head that something special is happening with June Carson. What Jackson has been looking for all this time, he’s found with her. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

  Exhaling, I settle against the leather seat in the sound booth of the studio. We’ve been here for a couple of hours and that something-bad-is-about-to-happen feeling won’t leave me alone.

  I watch my husband sing to June as he plays his guitar. It’s a song about first loves, old loves, and new ones. She sits beside him on a tall stool, waiting for her turn to croon right back at him.

  It seems like every song they perform has to do with love, and with every song they sing, they look more and more like a couple in love.

  My heart pinches and I grimace.

  Patrick glances back at me, and I quickly paste on a smile. “Usually this kind of stuff takes years.”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “Chemistry. It’s off the chart.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I never did get your name.”

  Actually he had, but who am I to argue? “Bliss Morgan.”

  “Oh, you’re related to Jackson?”

  “I’m his wife.”

  Patrick frowns, then Jackson and June’s voices get all tangled up in one another, in a way that makes the hair on my arms stand on end, and he turns his attention back to them.

  When they finish, Jackson jumps up, swinging his guitar around and giving June a hug. “Where have you been all my life?”

  She hugs him back, and I just sit there, like a bump on a log. “Waiting for my big break.”

  “So I’m your big break, huh?” he asks. Is he flirting with her? I can’t tell, and I certainly can’t ask. “Ready to go again?”

  She raises a shoulder, casting him a sexy smile. “I can go as long as you can.”

  I swallow. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s flirting with him. Unable to take anymore, I stand. “I’m… I need to go outside.”

  Bean and Patrick don’t say a word. They’re too caught up with in the chemistry of the other couple.

  When I slip out the booth and head down the hall, no one stops me, and an hour later, when I’m home, pacing the floor, no one calls me.

  Not even Jackson.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jackson

  I fall against the couch, sweating my ass off. June falls down right beside me, just as sweaty and breathless.

  “God, that was good.” I take a drink of water and then screw the cap back on. “Hell, the past couple of weeks have been amazing.”

  “Yeah they have.” She takes a sip from her own bottle. “Hey, you should come out with me tonight. We’re playing at The Blue Fire Lounge. It’s not honky tonky though, more like rock.”

  Affronted, I grunt. “Do I look like I play honky tonk?”

  Her blue eyes rake me up and down. “Never know.”

  The intensity of her gaze makes me uncomfortable, so I scoot down a little. If I had a cushion, I’d probably wedge it between us. Then I give myself a mental shake. How old am I—thirteen? I can sit with an attractive woman, with the name of my muse, one that makes me play better than ever before, and not act like an asshole, like I’d been with Bliss.

  Oh shit. I jump to my feet. “Where’s Bliss?” I glance at my watch and groan. We’ve been singing for hours, as in all damn day, and I haven’t heard a peep out of my wife.

  She’s been patient with me as I relearn my place in the industry, something that I’m entirely grateful for and have been trying to show by making love to her every chance I can—even when I’m mentally exhausted as hell from writing songs, or physically exhausted trying to make sure I stay in shape.

  But I feel like something’s off with us.

  “Who’s Bliss?” June asks.

  I level her with a look. “The woman who’s been sitting in the studio, day after day, and leaves with me when we’re done.”

  June give me a blank stare.

  “My wife,” I say, trying again. Hadn’t I introduced her—oh shit. I hadn’t, not once.

  She glances at my ring, and then up at my face. “You’re married?”

  “Yeah.” I stride to the booth and peer inside. All I see is Bean and Patrick. “Where’s Bliss?”

  “She went outside.”

  I struggle to maintain calm. “When?”

  Bean shrugs. “A few hours ago.”

  “And you didn’t think to let me know?” Anger eats at me, not just at them, but at myself. I can only imagine what Bliss thought she saw. Or what she’s been thinking lately. God, I’m such a selfish asshole.

  “Dude, we’re here to record, not babysit.”

  June walks up behind me. “Want me to help look for her?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “If she’s old enough to marry you, then she’s old enough to take the time to tell you where she went.” June takes my phone from my pocket and, before I can comprehend what she’s doing, she hands it back. “Call me. Tonight would be amazing. You, me, my band, and about a hundred fans screaming Downward Spiral’s name.”

  “Seriously?” I whistle. “Maybe I can talk Bliss into coming.” If she’ll talk to me. I’ve screwed up, on purpose or not, and I have to make it right with her. I don’t give a damn about June’s old-enough speech.

  “And if you can’t…” She shrugs. “You know where to find me.”

  *** *** ***

  Bliss

  I’m reading my favorite Junie B. Jones book, trying to get my mind off what Jackson and his June are doing.

  Cameron suggested I read books I’m familiar with, and then work my way up. That way I can build my vocabulary and reading comprehension level gradually, until it starts to take off for me. But as my tongue trips over a word, I st
art to doubt that anything will ever take off for me.

  The elevator doors open and Jackson steps out, his gaze landing on me.

  “I was worried about you,” he says, striding my way.

  I shove the book down into the seat cushions and stand up, backing away from him. “You weren’t too worried.”

  Taking off his beanie, he tosses it into a nearby chair and runs a hand through his hair. “Time got away from me. It happens sometimes.”

  “It happens a lot,” I point out and he has the grace to blush.

  “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  I hadn’t expected him to acknowledge that fact so quickly or to apologize. Honestly, I thought he’d argue with me. “Bean and Patrick thought you and June had great chemistry.”

  “They were right,” he says. “But only when we’re singing.”

  “I can’t sing like June,” I point out, my shoulders slumping. “I can’t sing at all.”

  “Don’t need you for that,” he says, holding out his hand. “Let’s sit down and talk.”

  I take his hand and allow him to lead me to the sofa. He sits down and makes a face. “What’s under—?” He digs into the side and pulls out my book. He blinks. “I haven’t seen one of these since I was—”

  My face goes hot, and before he can finish his sentence, I snatch it out of his hands. “That’s mine.”

  Dark blue eyes ringed in violet regard me thoughtfully. “I know, baby doll.”

  The endearment, usually so sweet to my ears, makes me feel young and stupid. “Don’t call me that.”

  “What would you like for me to call you?” He takes my hand, kisses the palm, and then settles it on his thigh.

  Angry tears bite at my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I’ve cried enough over him. “Bliss.”

  “Okay, Bliss.” He’s being so nice, sweet, and considerate that I just know he’s done something wrong. I just know he’s been with June. She’s perfect for him, while I’m… nothing.

  “What do you need me for? Because I’m pretty sure sitting around here, doing nothing, isn’t helpful.”

  “Classes start soon,” he says.

  “They won’t start until summer,” I point out. “Besides, I’m not paying for them. You are.”

  “When you’re done, get a job and pay me back. Problem solved.” He scoots closer to me, taking my book out of my hand and setting it down carefully. “Maybe you could read to me one night. Cameron says reading out loud is very helpful.”

  “How would you know what Cameron has to say?” I snap.

  “Because I called him on the way over here to make sure I didn’t say something ignorant or hurtful. Sometimes he knows what he’s talking about.”

  A tiny bit of my anger melts away. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do after classes are finished.” I don’t know what I’m supposed to do at all. All I ever wanted was a family. However, the longer I stay married to Jackson, the less like family he feels, because it seems like he’s found a new family with June and his music.

  Only how can I say that to him without sounding selfish or unreasonable? He had his career before we ever got together, and I knew how important it was to him. So, none of this should be a surprise.

  But it doesn’t stop the pain in my heart.

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Stop being so agreeable.”

  “Nope.”

  I growl at him. “That’s not funny.”

  “Why don’t you come out with me tonight, to a bar downtown? June invited us.”

  “She invited you, not me.”

  A slow grin kicks up the corners of his mouth. “Same thing, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Did anything happen while I was gone?”

  He nods. “I figured out a few things, but I’m still working on some others.”

  My heart almost stops in my chest. “And those would be?”

  His phone vibrates and he pulls it out, his brows crashing together. “Violet.”

  *** *** ***

  Jackson

  “I have to take this call.” Damn it. I don’t want to take this call. Bliss and I need to finish our talk. She needs to tell me what’s bothering her and what I can do to fix it. But Violet… “She never calls me, so it has to be important.”

  Hurt flashes in Bliss’ eyes and I want to take back the words, but Violet picks up before I can apologize or explain myself.

  “Jackson?”

  Her voice sounds off. “What’s wrong?”

  Bliss grabs her book and leaves the room, taking my heart with her. Son of a bitch!

  “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just—no. I can do this. Promise.” She’s speaking to my brother. More than likely he’s pissed that she’s even calling me.

  “Does Cole need another concert for his bar?”

  “What? Oh that, no.” She clears her throat. “Actually, I want to, um…”

  “I’m right here, no matter what,” I hear my brother say,

  “I’m having a memorial service, for the, my, our… for the baby. I need closure, and I thought you might like that, too.”

  Closure. For a child that I never knew, never knew existed, until after the fact? Regardless, once I found out, I had been devastated. Unable to comprehend that something I had helped create in love had been killed in a matter of minutes, by one girl’s decision to drive drunk.

  Not drunk—she’d been drugged out of her mind by some sicko waiter testing out a new date-rape drug, but I hadn’t know it at the time, and I hadn’t stopped her from driving.

  I rub my jaw, tug at my ear, and clear my throat a couple of times before trusting myself to speak again.

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow, two o’clock, at my nana’s church. I know it’s last minute, but I had debated on asking you, but Cole said I should at least give you the choice.”

  “My brother—Cole said that?”

  “Yes.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “He’s all about choices. Seriously, Jackson, if you can’t or don’t feel comfortable… it won’t hurt my feelings if you choose not to come.”

  For about a second, I debate bringing Bliss with me, but the subject of kids isn’t the best one for us. Maybe this is exactly what I need to help me decide and have an honest conversation with her, without my past clouding my judgment or clawing into my heart.

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Thank you,” she breathes into the phone.

  After we say a quick good-bye, I go to find Bliss. Maybe we need to go out, as a couple, have a good time, and then talk some more. Though I doubt Bliss feels like going anywhere with me after I took that call.

  “We’re going out tonight, baby doll, and having fun, whether you like it or not,” I mutter, striding to our room.

  “Go away,” she says as soon I walk inside.

  “Get dressed.”

  She tips up her chin. “I am dressed.”

  “Not to go out, and I want to take you out.”

  “June won’t be happy.”

  I grunt. “Like I give a damn.”

  “Fine.” Bliss crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at me behind her sexy glasses. “I’ll go out with you, and then you can check it off your box of things to do with Bliss before—” She smashes her lips together.

  “Before what?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she says, marching to the closet.

  About three minutes later, she leaves the closet and heads to the bathroom, wearing the shortest skirt I’ve ever seen on her. It barely covers her ass, not that I’m opposed to outfits like that and I had bought it for her, but I’ve kind of gotten used to being the only one to see my wife’s assets.

  While she’s doing whatever it is women do, I change my clothes and wait for her by the door.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Damn, baby doll.” I walk up to her, taking in the heavy makeup on her eyes, the hair curling down her back, and the shoes—heels that I’d picked out for her. They make her legs seem mile
s long. There’s nothing I’d rather do than press her against the wall and wrap those legs around me. “You’re missing one thing.”

  Black lashes flutter, green eyes, so seductive that I almost forget what I was about to do, gaze at me. “What’s that?”

  I walk to the dresser, pluck her glasses from the top, and gesture for her to come closer. “Let’s put these on.”

  “They don’t go with my outfit,” she protests, but she comes to me anyway.

  “It’s dark in the club, and you won’t be able to see without them.” I slide them in place. “Much better.”

  “But now I look like me,” she whispers.

  “I know.” Taking her hand in mine, I tug lightly. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Bliss

  The bar is crowded when we walk in, full of sweaty bodies and music.

  Jackson leads me to a high table and sits down with me, motioning for the waitress. She brings him a beer and looks at me.

  “Water.”

  Jackson smiles. “If you want something a little stronger, like a soda, I don’t mind.”

  I know he’s trying to be funny, but I’m not in the mood. My outfit is too short, too tight, and my shoes are killing me. I have so much mascara on my lashes that they actually feel heavy, and I’m afraid that by the end of the night I’ll look like a raccoon.

  “When does June’s band perform?”

  “No idea.” He shrugs, taking a pull of his beer. “Right now, I’m just going to enjoy being incognito with my sexy date.”

  The waitress brings my water. She turns to Jackson and hands him a handful of pieces of paper. “From the women at the end of the bar. They’re your biggest fans.”

  He dumps the papers on the table. “Please send them a round of drinks and tell them that they’re from my wife and me.”

  The waitress twists her lips, and then nods. “Good call.”

  “When does Downward Spiral play?” he asks.

  “They’re up next.” She plunges into the crowd.

  A familiar blonde slams into our table. “There you are. Thank God.”