“Of course I’m defending you. I’m so relieved. As long as your sad mood didn’t have to do with doubting your feelings for me, then I am one happy girl. If you need time to yourself to work through your feelings from time to time, I get that. I hate to be shut out. When it happens again, you can just say you need some space, and I will respect that.”
“You don’t think I’m too messed up to deal with—still crying about my mom?”
“No, baby, you’re completely normal. I’d be more worried about a guy who didn’t cry over losing his mom. Actually, I’m glad this happened, because I had an epiphany during this conversation. You’re my Mr. Morrison.”
It was his turn to raise a brow at me.
“It’s the elderly couple from the hospital, married over fifty years and incredibly in love. They told me ‘There are many you could live with, but only one you can’t live without. You love them so much that you love their flaws, too, and they don’t need to be perfect.’ That’s you, Jackson Ellis. I don’t mind if you have a sad spell, or emotional wounds, or a past full of obnoxious women. I can’t bear to lose you. I accept all your flaws; you’re still perfect to me.” I was grinning wide now, talking animatedly and cupping his face. I found my soul mate, and it felt good.
He shook his head with humor. “I thought you were going to be angry with me and maybe send me packing. Instead, you’re telling me I’m your Mr. Morrison? Can you even be real?” He grabbed my face, kissed me hard, and then sat back with dimples showing.
“You know,” he teased, “what you’re describing sounds an awful lot like unconditional love … like, the kind you told me didn’t exist in this world.”
I bit my lip, showing guilt. “Did I say that? Wow, I really was jaded, wasn’t I? I would say you’ve made me a believer.”
He crushed me to his chest now, his muscles rippling under his shirt as he whispered, “I love you unconditionally, too, Lexie Travis—you and all of your many, many flaws.”
I playfully pushed against his chest as he laughed. “Like what?” I insisted.
His face took on a devilish appearance as he skimmed over my body, making me instantly feverish.
“For instance, you have way, way too many clothes on right now.” He growled and began to yank my tank top over my head and then kissed a path down my neck.
I giggled as the familiar butterflies filled my belly, but then pushed him back. “I like the way you think, but I’m in desperate need of a shower.”
“Hmm, I think that was on our list of places to try out on this bus, wasn’t it?” He stood and stripped off his shirt, a sight that always made my breath catch. Then, he scooped me up and carried me into the bathroom.
Our drive was only two hours to Greensboro, North Carolina for our next tour stop. My dad’s predictable phone call occupied us for most of the drive. He’d talked to my mom about her visit, and shamelessly fished for an invitation. He obviously didn’t like being last to meet my boyfriend. The guilt trip of one parent versus the other annoyed me, but I couldn’t be mad that he was protective of his only daughter.
Jackson was completely on board, inviting him to come to any of the last shows during our next two weeks. Dad decided Will needed a graduation “guys-trip,” and they would come out to Myrtle Beach for the July 31 show. It was the last stadium show before the tour ended with the smaller venue, House of Blues, a few days later.
We started his therapy session about the time the buses pulled into our parking area at Greensboro Coliseum. I couldn’t hide my gaze of adoration while I stretched his ankle. “Thank you for indulging my family. I hope it doesn’t seem childish that they want to meet you.”
He shook his head. “I love having a girlfriend with a close family. Besides, you had better believe my daughter is going to have it much, much worse. We’re talking shotgun on the front porch and all.”
I laughed aloud. “Really? I didn’t peg you as overprotective. Would you let her date a musician?”
“No way,” he shouted and then cringed. “I mean, I’ve seen way too much. It would have to be our type of situation.”
“And by that, you mean?”
“Like she found a partying playboy and completely changed his heart and soul, giving him a new lease on life so that he was utterly devoted to her for eternity.” He said it matter of fact, looking right into my eyes.
I swallowed, and my heart soared into my chest. “Is that how you see us?”
He tipped his head, and I continued, “Well, I see it as: you found a girl who was down on herself, lost her self-esteem and her place in the world, and had completely given up on the idea of love … and you gave her all those things, times a million.”
He looked at me thoughtfully for a long moment and then smiled with dimples to make my stomach flip. “We’ve come a long way from the first time we met—when you dumped ice water on my head—haven’t we?”
My eyes crinkled with amusement. “We’ve survived a lot together from those days in the hospital. Remember my eggroll peace offering?”
“Yep. And, I recall you thought I threw away the kids’ fan mail.”
I wrinkled my nose at the thought. “I fought going on tour, too. I barely made the deadline to sign the contract.”
“Yeah, and the look on your face when you found out you were living on my bus with me? Ha! That was priceless.”
“I was so freaked out. Oh, and meeting the lovely Delilah … and the tropical storm in Florida?”
He chuckled. “Oh, and just look at us now, baby.”
“Who would’ve thought?” I mused.
“Me,” he said bluntly. “I knew I needed you in my life from the first day—well, the first day that I remember.”
I quirked a smile at him as I finished his stretches and then sat on his lap. “Well, I sure am glad you didn’t give up on us.”
The shows in Greensboro, Roanoke, Richmond, and Raleigh went off without a hitch. Sold out venues came with love for Jackson’s old and new material. The band had perfected “Strong Woman” and tried it out for fan response at the shows, deciding it would definitely be a single on the next record.
One surprise floored me as a fan brought a magazine with her into the VIP suite in Roanoke for Jackson to sign. She came to me next and asked for my autograph as well. My puzzled look led to her opening the article in Country Weekly. It was a whole piece on the changes in Jack over the last six months and how they traced it all back to me. They quoted lyrics to his new songs, the change in his playlist, the change to the dancers’ attire, and the antics that stopped on tour. They had quotes from bar owners in Nashville about how he used to come when he was home and leave with a different girl, but not anymore. They scored several photos of us that I didn’t even know existed—from CMA Festival, on tour, one of us strolling in Charleston.
The girl grinned at me. “You’re like a hero to the girls out there, you know. It’s so nice for us to see you don’t have to be a supermodel or a super groupie to get the attention of a bachelor like Jack Morgan. All the girls want a fairytale like yours; you got your prince.”
I felt dumbfounded but finally found my voice. “Yes, I did. I just didn’t realize anyone else was talking about it. We’re so secluded on this tour—”
“Oh please,” her friend gushed, handing me a different magazine to sign. “The continuing speculation of you two is on E! and CMT Insider, or the deejays on country radio mention it when they play one of his songs. There are stories or tidbits on you guys all the time.”
An alarm sounded in my head. Dr. Blevins. Dr. Gray. Oh shit.
Chapter 42
Shock showed across my face as I signed her copy and then immediately texted Ashley for confirmation. She texted back: Yep, at the grocery today I saw you and Jack mentioned in a magazine at checkout. I’m used to it now. BTW, I need your autograph.
In hindsight, I realized it might have been better if I’d never known about the attention and scrutiny across the country. Especially not when I thought of
my bosses.
Jackson was wise to the media. “You learn not to pay attention to that stuff, unless you give a real interview and want to see it in print later. Pictures and blurbs are going to be all over the place. The publicity firm we use will let Amos know if anything ever gets written incorrectly, is hurtful, or needs to be addressed.”
“What about my job? Should I call and try to explain the situation? They can’t be blind to all of the publicity.”
“I think it’s their move to make if they want to start an issue over it. No news from them is good news, right? Contract is almost over, anyway.”
Now, that was something I didn’t want to think about at all. I would let them contact me if they chose. Jackson’s last legal maneuver hopefully made them cautious to pick a fight over the acceptable behaviors on tour.
Myrtle Beach lay out before us in a glorious stretch of sand, behind the never-ending strip of entertainment and hotels. We had arrived on a Monday for the Wednesday show. My dad and brother would drive in on Tuesday. Our buses parked in a RV resort near the beach, and the whole crew enjoyed a day off to explore on Tuesday.
I was slightly anxious, even though I knew there was no reason my dad and Jackson wouldn’t get along. I still wanted everything to go perfectly. Finally, his trusty Explorer pulled up alongside our bus, the familiar Kentucky license plate catching my attention after being in many other states for so long now.
“Dad! Will!” I flew down the steps and hugged them both as they stretched their legs after the long drive.
Their smiles were completely worth any anxiety I’d faced, and it felt comforting to have the three men in my life all together for the first time. Jackson emerged behind me and Will greeted him like a long lost friend, complete with a good old-fashioned man-hug. Dad gave him a firm handshake while they sized each other up and began small talk.
After the bus tours, we headed to an obscure restaurant rumored to have the best crab cakes at the beach and settled into easy conversation. Jackson refused to wear a hat to dinner for disguise purposes, because he thought it would be rude. Will laughed, saying he hoped he’d get to see a fan mob in person, and Dad jumped in to say Jack deserved to eat a meal in peace, even though he was famous.
We made it a full hour into dinner and conversation, and caught up on everyone’s immediate life, when the first fan approached. Jackson obliged the teenage girl but signaled for the check as more people began to figure out who he was. He posed for about ten more photos before we were able to ease our way out the side door and back into my dad’s non-descript vehicle.
After we parked near the pier, Jackson donned a baseball hat, and we all strolled along, sightseeing and watching the ocean waves as the sun began to set. Dad and Jackson struck up a conversation about fishing that bonded them, while Will filled me in on how well things were going with Marybeth. I eventually noticed my boyfriend and my father had walked farther away, watching some folks casting out into the water from the pier. Now it seemed a serious conversation. As the minutes dragged on, I said a silent prayer that my dad was not embarrassing me, or offending Jackson. How could I rescue my boyfriend without being awkward? As I made my way toward them, they noticed me and ended their conversation with a handshake.
When Dad dropped us off for the night, after Jackson got out of the car, I pressed my father about their discussion.
“Oh, honey,” he chuckled, “it was just your old man laying down the law to how my little girl better be treated. But, don’t worry, he passed every test, and I can already see how much he cares for you.”
He kissed my cheek and we parted ways. They planned to meet us at the concert rehearsal the next day and for lunch. Jackson was no more help, only telling me he admired my dad and hoped he’d won his approval.
The guys met us at the Myrtle Beach Convention Center for the craft service lunch so they could spend some time behind the scenes. Will was as awestruck as ever, and Dad took it all in a stride, even though I knew he was a little anxious that my job had become more like a circus than a hospital. He wasn’t a country music fan, opting for more classic rock and oldies, but he seemed to enjoy the show. The throngs of screaming fans caught him off guard, whereas I had become so accustomed.
He relaxed again by the after-party and even decided to let Will drive so he could have a beer or two with the band before the two of them headed out. They planned to spend the next two days driving up the coast to prime fishing spots before the long drive back home. We said our bittersweet goodbyes that night, and I made a silent prayer that there would be plenty more time for us all to be together in the future.
The next day we met as the whole tour group and celebrated the end of a year’s work—for most of them. I came on four months ago, the Belles came two months ago, and Theo just a few weeks ago. The rest of them had been a family and seen the entire country together, starting back in September.
Amos had arrived in Myrtle Beach the day before and had been lurking around as usual. He spoke at the beginning of the meeting, a casual setting with everyone seated at the outdoor tables between the buses. He summarized all the cities and months that had gone by, along with some of the highs and lows of the tour. Various people called out when he mentioned certain topics, because—after all—they were a rowdy group.
When he talked about the two-show stint in Las Vegas that started the tour, Lee yelled, “Now, remember, even though the tour is over, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!” Everyone laughed, alluding to what was certainly bad behavior in Sin City.
Amos gave mention to all of the various opening acts that had been with the tour, gaining a collective groan when he said Delilah’s name and outright booing when he said Travis McCoy. My heart rate sped up at the thought of him, and I took several deep breaths and squeeze Jackson’s hand, with his other one rubbing my back gently before the anxiety passed. It irked me that he could still affect me, but I knew I’d overcome it.
Amos’s recap finally made it to the Knoxville show, when he shook his head as he talked about the horrible accident and the scary time that followed. Everyone was somber as they recalled their own vivid memories of that night. How frightening it had been and how worried they’d been about Jack.
“One good thing came from that terrible night, though.” Amos paused and looked at me. “Her name is Lexie Travis. I will admit I’ve had my ups and downs with the good doctor, but there is no denying she has been the best thing to happen to Jack and his music in … well, in his life.” He choked up slightly, and I felt tears well in my eyes. What a surprise from my adversary!
He continued after clearing his throat. “Without this young lady being brave enough to board a bus and travel all over the country with a bunch of strangers, we wouldn’t have completed the last leg of the tour. I was very doubtful about changing his music and his image, but I can admit when I’m wrong. He has never been more popular, there are new hit songs in the works with a new album around the corner, and has a bigger fan base than ever. So, the best is yet to come for us all, I think.”
He raised a hand in triumph and added, “Jack, keep working your magic and thank you for making sure we all have jobs that we love. The ACM Awards are a month away, and I will be in touch as soon as I see what kind of crew we need for that. I did find out that Jack will be presenting the award for best new artist, singing one song of his choice with the band, and is up for four awards this year!”
A chorus of cheers went up. Amos calmed the crowd. “Now, you know the awards are basically for all of last year’s music, because the newer stuff has not been out very long. Nominations are: Best Single for “One Night Stand,” Best Video of the Year for “Dance Like No One’s Watching,” Album of the Year, and Male Vocalist of the Year!”
The gang surrounded him with hugs of congratulations, and even me, due to the video nomination. Jackson squeezed me tight and whispered, “The video is all on you, baby. That’s amazing, especially since the release is so new. Tells you what a fast hit it was.”
I waved him off, not wanting any embarrassing attention focused on me. Gloria brought out champagne and red solo cups while an informal roasting began.
Jackson started with simply trying to say something about each person gathered and thank them for their work on the tour. Of course, several people had funny jokes or stories to bring up as well. When he had made it through the whole band and crew, he turned to me.
“This girl here knows exactly how special she is to me, and I thank God for her every day. She gave me a new life and a fresh start.” He kissed me gently as the crowd made obnoxious catcalls.
The roasting took on a life of its own then, as everyone began to tease each other or rehash the memories of the tour. Andy and Kate shared a chair and held hands, looking happy and smitten. I remembered him as such a meek and timid kid who had really blossomed. The oohs and ahhhs continued with a roar of laughter as the meeting turned into an end-of-tour party and felt like it was high school graduation day again.
It was the perfect day to hang out as one big group, and I walked around taking pictures of everyone to preserve the memories. The band alone would stay on with us for the very last show at the House of Blues. They were storing their basic equipment under their bus and using the roadies at the venue to set up, so that the crew, dancers, stylists, drivers, and Gloria could all go home. Just Helen and Hank would stay with the gray and black buses for the last week before heading home to Nashville.
We partied until well after midnight, enjoying the last night. It was especially bittersweet for me, knowing it was my only tour. I cuddled into Jackson’s arms that night, sheets tangled around our bodies.
“I can’t get over how fast this tour has gone. I mean, the four-month contract sounded like an eternity. Now, I want time to slow down so next week won’t come and take it all away.” I entwined our fingers as I spoke softly.
Muse: ( Groupie Volume 2 of 2) Page 26