by Sara Mack
His eyes light up and he shakes his head no. My mouth falls open. “I do have mad bartending skills!”
“You do. But my real motivation …” He stops following my spine and removes his hands from beneath my shirt. He runs them up into my hair, cradling the back of my head. “My real reason was to get close to you. I had to find a way to spend time with you, to get to know you.”
I study his chocolate brown eyes and my heart pounds. “Let me guess. Next you’re going to tell me you lost Oliver at the aquarium on purpose.”
“Hell, no. Running into you there was a coincidence. A very lucky coincidence.”
“You’re telling me,” I say. “I think O stole my heart the minute I heard his little voice. If he had asked the wrong person for help …”
I shudder at the thought before Latson pulls me close. “I think fate stepped in that day.”
“Or maybe it was Audrey.”
I hadn’t thought of the possibility until now, and Latson’s expression softens. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”
I smile before his lips gently brush over mine. Before we can take things further, my phone sounds with a reminder.
“Ugh,” I groan. “I have to get moving.”
“What’s on the schedule for today?”
I roll off him and on to my back, reaching for my cell. “Brunch with Roxanne. She wanted to get together after the first show to discuss any changes.”
“Are you meeting anyone else?”
I silence the reminder. “The guys will be there. Why?”
“Not Caleb?”
“No, not that I’m aware of. Last night was the first time I’d ever heard of him.” I sit up and set my phone back on the table next to Oliver’s drawing. “He really gets under your skin, doesn’t he?”
Latson scrubs his face with the palm of his hand. “Yeah. He does.”
I pull my legs beneath me and adjust my expression, to let him know I’m waiting for an explanation. He rolls his eyes.
“I told you Caleb is Levi’s brother.”
“So, he’s guilty by association?”
He sighs. “He’s also the record exec who had the final say in dropping my band from the label. He chose to believe the tabloids and his asshole brother instead of me.”
I vaguely remember some of the headlines I read during my Google search. “How did the press get wind of the situation anyway?”
“Levi. He hates me just as much as I hate him. He was there when I –” Latson catches himself, his mouth forming a thin line. “Levi twisted the truth and took it to people who would listen. Then, my dad got involved and wanted custody of Oliver.” Latson grimaces. “So, yes. Caleb getting under my skin is an understatement. He ended my career.”
The more I learn about Latson’s past the more I think Audrey ended his career. Everything he’s dealt with has stemmed from her decisions. I keep my mouth shut, though. Bad mouthing his dead sister is probably not the best idea.
Instead, I crawl over to his side and hover above him. “People are shitty and I hate that you’ve been hurt.”
“I hate that we’re talking about this.” He sits up straight and reaches for me. “I have one more night with you. Let’s not ruin it by talking about my past.”
I agree and end up in his lap. “No parties after the show tonight either,” I add. “Just us.”
He smiles. “Just us. On a date.”
I shoot him a curious look.
“I thought we could sight-see, if you’re up for it,” he says. “How much of L.A. have you visited since you’ve been out here?”
“Lemme think.” I set my finger against my chin in pretend thought. “Barely any.”
“Good. After you play we’re headed to see the Hollywood sign.”
“Yeah?” I can’t stop my grin.
“And then we can go wherever we want. The Hollywood Walk of Fame is close. I’d take you shopping on Rodeo Drive, but I think most stores will be closed by then.”
Talk about expensive. “I don’t need anything from Rodeo Drive.” I set my hand against Latson’s cheek. “I have everything I need right here.”
He lowers his gaze to my mouth. “Where have you been all my life?”
“Where have you been all of mine?”
He gives me my favorite lopsided dimple smile before kissing me senseless. We may only have the next twenty-four hours together, but we’re going to make them count.
~~~~
“Let me help you with that, darlin’.”
“Thanks, Beau.”
I hand our driver my guitar case as I haul myself up the steps of the tour bus. I keep my acoustic with me between cities because it gives me something to do besides watch movies and sleep.
“Y’all alone? Where are the boys?”
“They’re on their way. You know how it is.”
The fifty-nine-year-old ex-bull rider scowls at me. “If I told you once I told you a thousand times. Stop walkin’ your tail out to the bus in the dark after shows. You hear me? It’s not safe.”
I reach up and playfully flick the brim of his Stetson. Beau has become a surrogate father of sorts. “You want to talk about safe? How can you watch the road wearing this thing? I can barely see your eyes.”
“Are you sassin’ me?”
“Don’t I always?”
He hands me my guitar case with an exasperated sigh, and I grin. “Frowning like that with give you wrinkles,” I warn him. “You need to keep that face pretty for the ladies.”
He chuckles. “There’s only one lady I’m interested in seein’ and she’s at our next stop.”
“Then I’ll go get comfortable.” I adjust my backpack on my shoulder. “We can’t be late for your date in Dallas.”
He winks at me before I wander back to my bunk. The bus sleeps eight, and my “room” is below Roxanne’s. When I first boarded the tour bus in L.A., my immediate thought was it looked like a motorhome on steroids. The front lounge holds opposing couches, a small table, a mounted flat screen, and a kitchenette. Our bunks are located in the middle of the bus, and another small lounge, along with the bathroom, resides in the back.
Pulling the curtain to my bunk aside, I toss my things on my bed. It’s hard to believe I left Los Angeles three weeks ago. We just played Denver, and in an hour we’ll be headed south to Texas. Time is flying, but I’m enjoying it. My only regret is I haven’t seen Latson since the first show. We talk daily, and I’ve been waiting for him to surprise me again. I have to remind myself that he said his visits would be few and far between.
Before I get comfy in my sweats for the long ride, I grab my phone and send him a message: Bye bye Rocky Mountain High. Hello Lone Star State.
He responds quickly. Say hi to the Cowboys cheerleaders for me ;)
I scoff. In your dreams.
Footsteps and greetings to Beau at the front of the bus make me look up. The guys are here.
“I need a beer,” Drew says, stopping at the mini fridge. He opens the door and pulls out a Miller Light.
“Me, too,” Paul says as he plops down on the couch. Dean joins him and adds, “Me, three.”
“Jen?” Drew holds the refrigerator door open. “You want one?”
“Sure,” I say and catch the can Drew tosses me. It’s Angry Orchard, my new favorite. “Thanks.”
As quickly as Paul sat, he stands and looks around. “Where’s the remote? I know there’s a game happening somewhere.”
Dean pulls the control from beneath his butt and turns on the TV. It looks like it’s going to be another typical night on the bus. Beer and baseball until everyone gets tired and crawls into their bunks. Not that I’m complaining. I’m glad the guys save the parties for hotels, when we stay a few nights in one city.
Popping the top to my can, I ask, “Where’s Roxanne?”
The boys look at one another and shrug. “I thought she was with you,” Dean says, looking toward the back of the bus.
“Nope.” I lift the curtain to her bunk. “She�
��s not here.”
“Well, your guess is as good as mine.” He turns back to the television. Paul’s found ESPN and they’re recapping a Detroit Tigers game from earlier today. Go team, I silently think in support of my home state.
I set my drink down and open my backpack, locating the cozy clothes I left out of my suitcase. I walk to the bathroom and change, then brush my teeth and wash my face. I pull my hair back in a loose pony. It takes almost thirteen hours to get from Denver to Dallas, and that’s if we don’t stop. When I fall asleep tonight, I want to crash without having to wake up and wiggle out of tight jeans.
Just as I settle in my bunk with my guitar across my lap, I hear Roxanne’s excited voice from the front of the bus. I lean to the side and stick out my head to see what’s going on.
“Just make yourself comfortable; we have plenty of room,” she gushes. “Boys. Ariel will be joining us for our drive. Please try not to be rude.”
My eyes widen as I see Ariel standing behind Rox. She’s hanging on to a small rolling suitcase with one hand and a large Coach purse, more like a duffle, with the other.
“There’s no need to lecture the guys,” Ariel says. “They know me and I know all of them. We’re like family.”
Dean leans forward in his seat. “What’s going on? Is everything all right?”
Ariel rolls her eyes. “Just some dancer drama that I don’t care to be a part of.”
“Then kick them the fuck off your bus,” Paul says with a wave of his beer. “That’ll show ‘em. Not that I care you’re here.” He grins. “If we have to be family, we can we be distant cousins by marriage and share a bunk.”
Ariel laughs and Roxanne glares at Paul before turning to our guest with a forced smile. “Anyway,” she says, “we have three available beds. Two next to Jen and I, and one next to dipshit over there.” She jerks her thumb in Paul’s direction. “Take your pick.”
“Thank you so much,” Ariel says as she starts to follow Rox toward me. “I couldn’t take the bitching anymore. My moods haven’t been the best lately. If I stay, it will only make things worse.”
Roxanne nods with empathy. When the two of them make it to me, Ariel smiles. “Hello again. I hope you don’t mind me crashing your party.”
I shake my head. “Not at all. It’s your tour.”
Ariel selects the bottom bunk directly behind mine. She lifts her suitcase on to the bed and then peeks around the corner. “I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk. You know, get to know one another.”
I can’t stop my confused look. “Why?”
“Jen!” Roxanne scolds me. “If the headliner wants to speak to you –”
“Rox.” Ariel puts her hand on our manager’s arm. “It’s random that I’d want to talk to her. Think about it. She’s dating my ex.”
Roxanne goes silent, then focuses on me. “I’m going to get comfortable, head to the back of the bus, and get lost in a book. Behave.”
She turns on her heel and I look at Ariel. Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth to suppress a laugh, and I do the same. She starts to unpack, and I turn back to my guitar.
Time passes and Beau gets the bus underway. An idea for a new song popped into my head tonight before the show, so I mess around with notes and lyrics. Everything is gibberish right now, but that’s how my songwriting usually starts. After a half hour or so of playing around, Ariel appears by my side. “Is this a bad time?”
My eyes swing to her. She’s changed clothes, and her dark hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head. With her hair off her face her features look exotic, something I hadn’t noticed before. “No,” I say and move back a little. “What’s up?”
She crawls on to my bunk and faces me, crossing her legs. “Nothing really. Just lonely and bored.” She glances around and her eyes land on Oliver’s drawing taped to the wall. She smiles. “I bet I know who made this.”
I’m about to confirm her thoughts when my phone vibrates. “One sec,” I say and pick it up. It’s a text message from Pete: Hey, rock-n-roll queen. Where are you?
I smile. On a bus in the middle of nowhere. Where are you?
Home in bed. I should be asleep, but I’m not. I’m worried out of my mind.
I frown and respond Why? Is everything okay?
Three little dots appear on my phone, indicating he’s typing back. It must be a long message because the dots linger. I hope nothing is wrong with Jules or our family, although my parents would’ve called. Great. Now I’m starting to worry, too.
“Who are you talking to?”
I look at Ariel. “My brother. He’s being vague and annoying.”
“Older or younger?”
“Older.”
Finally his message comes through. Everything is fine. I’m awake because I have an expensive diamond ring sitting in my dresser drawer and NO IDEA HOW TO PROPOSE.
“Is that all?!” My voice is loud. You idiot! I send. You scared me.
Ariel cocks an eyebrow. “Is something the matter?”
I sigh. “My brother needs help coming up with a way to propose to his girlfriend. They got married in secret and now he’s backtracking. I told him I would think of some ideas for him, but I’ve fallen down on the job.”
Ariel shrugs like it’s no big deal. “That’s easy. Have him do it at a show. Call them up on stage and have him surprise her. She’ll love it.”
My mouth falls open. It’s so simple it’s stupid. “How did I not think of that? Thanks!” I start rapidly typing while Pete responds to my idiot comment.
Calm your buns, I send. Ariel Allyn is sitting across from me and she says you can do it on stage.
He replies. Are you serious???
Yes. You should do it in Detroit, since mom and dad will be there. I grin. It’s perfect.
You said Jules deserved epic and this definitely qualifies. Thank you Jen. Now I can sleep.
I make a face. Because that’s what’s important, dork. I’ll get back to you with the details.
No, seriously. Thank you.
You’re welcome. I set my phone down.
“Everything good?” Ariel asks.
“Yes. I’ll work out the details with Dean later. I’ll tell him you said it was okay.”
She smiles. “I’m glad I could help.” Her eyes go back to Oliver’s picture. “His nephew drew this, right?”
I nod. “Oliver’s a cool little kid.”
“What is he now? Five years old?”
“Seven,” I say.
She shakes her head. “I can’t believe how much time has passed.” Her eyes land on my guitar. “So, what are you working on?”
“Not much. I’m just messing around.”
“I used to play, too, before I was told I could only sing.” She gets sarcastic. “It’s all about the image. I should demand some changes in my next contract.”
I’m surprised. I was under the impression she could do whatever she wants. “Do you still practice?”
“Not much anymore.” She tips her head. “I’ve been watching you play. You’re good.”
My cheeks flush. That’s not unusual or anything. “Um … thanks.”
Ariel smiles, then looks down and studies her cuticles. “Look, Jen. I’m going to be honest.” Her eyes meet mine again. “I don’t have many close friends, but I’d like you to be one. When I talked to Latson, he said you’re good people. I’m thinking of making some changes to my style. I’m sick of being a pop princess.”
What? “How can you be sick of success? I mean, if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.”
She pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. It’s getting old; I’m twenty-seven. I need to grow as an artist. Hell, I need to grow as a person.”
I’m silent. Does she think I can help?
Ariel sets her chin on her knees and continues. “I need a fresh perspective. I need to hang around someone normal. Someone who’s still grounded.”
I’m skeptical. “So,
the dancer drama was a lie?”
“Oh no.” She turns serious. “It’s true. Some of those girls are straight up bat-shit crazy.”
I snicker as my mind flashes to Heidi. Some of the groupies are, too.
“Anyway, enough about me.” She lowers her legs and crosses them in front of her again. “Let’s talk about you. Let me hear something. Play an original Jen creation.”
Why not? It’s not every day a pop star asks to hear your work. The song I wrote in Chicago comes to mind, the one about the couple on the beach. “Okay,” I say. “This one’s called “Fairytale”. There might be a few changes, but it goes like this.” I straighten my back, clear my throat, and strum the strings to find my place:
“When the fairytale ends
When it all falls apart
Who will pick up the pieces
Of our shattered hearts?
It can’t be you
And it won’t be me
Because unlike a fairytale
We were never meant to be.”
I take my time and play the entire song, stopping only once when I get tripped up on the second verse. When I finish, Ariel has a glassy look in her eyes. She blinks to clear it and then quietly says, “Save that one for me.”
“What?” I don’t know what that means.
“I love it,” she says. “If anyone approaches you about that song, tell them it’s taken. Tell them you’re saving it for me.”
My eyes grow wide. “You would sing my song?”
She nods. “In a heartbeat. Show me what else you’ve got.”
Chapter Twenty Two
“You’ll never guess what the record company did for us.” I shut the bedroom door so I can talk to Latson in private. “They upgraded our hotel room to a penthouse. A penthouse! Can you believe it?”
“That was nice of them.” He sounds doubtful. “I thought the tour was only in Dallas for two nights.”
“We are. Tonight and tomorrow, then it’s off to Houston. But, we found out they upgraded us there, too.”
Obnoxiously loud music starts to play from the interconnected penthouse living and dining rooms. Looks like our guests have arrived.