His Surrender

by Jaclyn Osborn

  “He is? That’s great!” Man, that was some great news. Johnny hadn’t said as much, but I knew he’d been worried about Mike a lot recently. “What time are you guys playing?”

  “Nine thirty. I don’t want to inconvenience ya, though, kid. If you have a hot date, don’t let me stop you.”

  I’d have to talk to Jay, but he seemed to love that place as much as me, and I suspected he wouldn’t mind at all.

  “I’ll be there,” I said. “Tell Big Mike to show me how it’s done.”

  “Tell him yourself. He’d get a kick out of that.”

  “Deal.”

  “Your dad called me the other day,” Johnny said, his voice taking on a different tone. Definitely not as carefree as he’d been seconds ago.

  “Oh? What did he want?”

  “It’s that job in California,” Johnny responded. “He’s hell-bent on givin’ it to you no matter how many times you turn down his offer.”

  “Why the hell does he care so much? It’s not like he has shown me love over the years. Why does he give a damn about my future?”

  “Now, Remi. Don’t say that. Dale is a hateful bastard at times, but he does love you. In his own way.”

  “How can you defend him after what he’s done to you?”

  Dale had accused Johnny of having an affair with my mom, and ever since that day when they fist fought in the backyard of my family home—one now owned by some other rich family—they’d never been on good terms. For a while, Dale had even kept me from seeing Johnny. I’d still seen Johnny behind his back, but still.

  “I’m not defendin’ shit, kid. I’m just tellin’ it how it is.”

  “Did he tell you to persuade me to accept it?” I asked, not pleased by the thought.

  “Yeah, he did,” Johnny answered. “He said if I cared about ya at all I’d do my best to get you to do the right thing.”

  Acid churned in my gut. “And? Are you going to tell me how great an opportunity it is and how I’m a fool for not taking it?”

  “Hell no. He asked me to get you to do the right thing. You being here is the place you need to be, kid. You don’t belong in some fancy-ass office. You belong here. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Later, Johnny.”

  After driving home, I jogged up to my apartment and stripped out of my clothes before hopping in the shower. When I was finished, I checked my phone for a text or missed call from Jay. There weren’t any. It was only a little after four that afternoon, and his office didn’t close until five. Knowing he’d respond when he could, I texted him.

  Me: Do you want to grab dinner together?

  He hadn’t said what he had planned for us to do that night; he’d only asked if we could see each other. I got the impression Jay wasn’t a dinner type of guy, but there was no harm in asking.

  His response came five minutes later, and I heard the buzzing of my phone while I was rifling through my closet.

  Beautiful Bastard: You asking me on a date? ;)

  Me: You’re the one who wanted to see me. Dinner was only a suggestion. We don’t have to.

  Why was I suddenly panicky? Was I pushing him too far too soon? It was only dinner. Friends could do that, right?

  Beautiful Bastard: I’m finishing a few things at work. I’ll give you a call after.

  A second message then came in.

  Beautiful Bastard: And dinner sounds nice.

  I smiled at his text before getting dressed. Before going out with Nathan, I had fretted over what to wear. But with Jay? It was weird. I didn’t feel like I needed to impress him. That kind of comfortability was rare for me.

  Sure, Jay turned my brain to mush sometimes, and my heart did crazy things when in his presence. However, I never once felt like I had to hide or be something I wasn’t. And that was kind of beautiful.

  Thirty minutes later, Jay called me.

  “Hey, you,” I answered, unable to contain my smile.

  “Hey yourself,” he responded. It sounded like he was in his car. “I’m goin’ home to change out of this damn suit, and then I’ll pick you up. Sound good?”

  “Need help getting undressed?”

  He chuckled. “I think you’ve stolen some of my lines.”

  “I learn from the best.”

  “Be ready for me,” Jay said, and by the sound of his voice, I wondered if he was smiling too.

  “I’m always ready for you.”

  When he laughed, my stomach fluttered. Yep. I was seriously head over heels for that beautiful bastard.

  ***

  “How do you look so hot in a T-shirt and jeans?” I asked, after opening the front door and seeing Jay standing there in all his glory. He made a simple black tee look much hotter than it should.

  He looked down at himself and shrugged. “I was born this way.”

  “Cocky much?”

  “You love it.” He flashed his pearly whites and motioned with his head. “Ready to go? I’m starving.”

  We didn’t hold hands as we descended the steps and neared his car, but we walked side by side, our arms brushing together. He unlocked the doors, and I slid into the passenger seat and put on my seat belt. His car had that new-car smell, and there was something sexy about the dark, leather interior—made even sexier once he got inside and closed his door, closing us off to the outside world. Then the leather mixed with a scent that was all him, and I felt overwhelmed by it.

  “Have you ever had sex in here?” I asked.

  Jay’s brows lifted. “Sex on the brain, Mr. Barnett?”

  “Around you? That’s basically my every thought.”

  Smirking, he backed out of the parking spot and turned onto the street. “To answer your question… no, I haven’t. I fuck in hotel rooms and at the other guy’s house. Hardly ever in my own space.”

  “You don’t take men home with you?”

  “Only very rarely,” he answered. “You remember Emery? The dark-haired guy who comes with me to the 906 sometimes?” I nodded. “We used to fuck, and he’s basically the only guy who’s ever been in my bed.”

  “You don’t do that with him anymore?”

  “No. He’s with someone now and is happy.” Jay smiled, and it showed how much he cared about this Emery guy. “Maybe you could meet him sometime.” Right after he said the words, his face fell and he stared at the road with a furrowed brow.

  Did he regret saying it?

  “Don’t worry about it.” I looked out the window. “I don’t have to meet your friends, Jay. We’re just hanging out. Nothing serious.”

  He grabbed my hand, surprising me. “I want you to meet him. Sorry for getting weird. I’m just not used to this. Any of it.” Emerald eyes flickered to mine before focusing back on the road. “This is new for me. Even the time I was in a relationship, I still didn’t go out with him or introduce him to my family or friends, and we certainly didn’t do anything romantic.”

  I frowned. “That doesn’t sound like much of a relationship.”

  “I guess it wasn’t. Not really.” Jay got quiet. He was still holding my hand, though he held it a bit tighter now. He didn’t say anything more, and I didn’t feel right pressing him on it.

  “Where are we going for dinner?” I asked, knowing if I didn’t change the subject the silence would draw on longer.

  “Is Bricktown okay? I’m craving their turkey burger.”

  “I’ve never been to Bricktown, but I’ve heard good things.”

  “Glad I could be your first.” He smiled and moved his thumb across mine. He was back to his playful self, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it was all a show. That, maybe, his mind was still in whatever dark place I’d made him go by talking about relationships.

  When we got to the restaurant, he found a spot up front to park and let go of my hand. I tried not to let it bother me as we walked toward the entrance, farther apart than what I would’ve preferred. His wounds went deeper than I’d imagined, and he clearly needed time to sort through those issues. There was no quick o
r easy fix. Each heart mended differently, on its own time.

  He’s trying.

  I smiled at the thought.

  The hostess led us to a booth in the bar area straight ahead, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach when Jay placed his hand on my lower back as we followed her. That one small touch meant a lot to me. Especially when people at the table beside us looked at his hand on my back, and he didn’t pull away. It reminded me of when Nathan practically yanked his hand from mine the first moment someone looked at us.

  “Your waiter will be right with you,” the hostess said before leaving, but not until she looked Jay up and down.

  He smiled at her, but it was more polite than flirty. Funny how I could tell the difference.

  “Order anything you want,” Jay said, handing me a menu before grabbing one for himself. “Dinner’s on me.”

  “I can buy my own—”

  “I invited you,” he interjected, tapping his index finger on the tabletop. “Only right for me to pay.”

  “Actually, I invited you,” I said, my smile widening when his tapping finger tapped even faster.

  “Don’t argue with me, piano man.”

  I snorted at the nickname and looked over the menu. After a few seconds, I felt him watching me and glanced up. Jay averted his gaze and cleared his throat, his forehead creasing as he studied his menu with more concentration than necessary.

  The waitress came to take our drink orders—Jay ordered a beer, and I got a Coke.

  “Can I start you off with any appetizers?” she then asked.

  “An order of cheese sticks with ranch,” Jay said before biting his bottom lip and scanning the menu again. “Also, an order of the spicy sweet potato fries.”

  “You got it. Be right back with your drinks.”

  “What?” Jay asked me once the waitress left. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “That’s a lot of food,” I responded. “You don’t look like you’ve ever eaten a carb in your life.”

  He laughed. “That’s why I work out.”

  “When do you find the time? I can’t even remember the last time I went to the gym.”

  “It’s not without effort,” he responded. “I wake up early and go on morning runs, and other times I hit the gym before I go home for the evening. I work hard to look like this, but I appreciate the compliment.”

  When had he ever thanked me for complimenting him? It was like Jay was slowly, but surely, turning into someone else. Or… perhaps he was feeling more comfortable with me, just like I was with him. He was able to be himself.

  Rome wasn’t built in a day.

  Jay Foley wouldn’t be changed in one either.

  But it was a start.

  Chapter 13

  Jay

  Over dinner, Remi and I talked more than we ever had. And I liked it. A lot.

  I refused to call it a date. It was dinner with a friend… even if that friend felt like much more than that. He talked about his students and told me Foster got the solo, which I’d already known because Foss had called me when he got out of school and gushed excitedly.

  I didn’t share many details about me, though, and I was sure he picked up on it. When he asked a general question, like favorite music, movies, et cetera, I answered. But I avoided the tougher topics. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever tell him about Andrew, but if I did it wouldn’t be in a crowded restaurant. I would also need a few drinks in me first.

  “Can we go to the 906 after this?” Remi asked, once we’d finished our food. “Johnny and the guys are playing and asked if I’d come by.”

  “That’s fine with me. I could use a drink and a cigar.”

  Remi grinned. “Do you smoke regularly? Or just when you’re there?”

  “I have the occasional cigar when I’m home, but I mostly smoke them at the bar,” I answered, and then my gut sank a bit when I thought of something. “Does that bother you?”

  “Not at all. I like lighting up sometimes too.”

  We shared a smile before I asked for the check and paid, leaving a big tip for the waitress since she’d been super attentive.

  “She totally wanted to take you home,” Remi said, as we exited the restaurant and got on the sidewalk.

  “Who?”

  “The waitress,” he answered with a light laugh. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice her lingering stare and how she only talked to you when she came to our table.”

  “I didn’t actually.” And it surprised the hell out of me. I always noticed shit like that. The reason for me not having noticed was currently staring at me with the most adorably confused expression. My attention had been solely on him all during dinner.

  “Oh.” He looked away and scratched the side of his head.

  “You didn’t want to wear your hat tonight?” I asked, noticing how he seemed to try to grab it out of habit and adjust it like he sometimes did. “I haven’t seen you wear it in a while, now that I think about it.”

  Remi faced me once we were beside my car. “I was told it looked stupid, so I stopped wearing it.”

  “Who the hell told you that?” Fire blazed through my veins, an unexpected response, I admit. But the thought of anyone hurting his feelings threw me into some kind of crazy protective mode.

  “Nathan.”

  “The asshole who tried to force himself on you? You’re going to listen to him?”

  “Wow, Jay. Calm down.” Remi put his hands up and stepped toward the passenger-side door. “And he didn’t force himself on me. I don’t think it would’ve gotten that far.”

  Yeah, and he was in denial. However, I kept my mouth shut on the matter. If living in his fantasy world helped him cope with it, who was I to take that from him?

  Once we were in my car, I left the parking lot and turned onto Main Street. The cigar bar was just down the road, so it didn’t take long to get there.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, as we walked toward the bar.

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know.” Cars drove past us as we moved along the sidewalk, the headlights reflecting off storefront windows. “I just got mad that he said that to you. You were wearing that hat the first time I ever saw you.”

  “I can’t believe you remembered.” Shock colored his tone. “I didn’t even remember that.”

  I shrugged and moved to the other side of him so that I was on the side with the road. It was out of reflex. He was smaller than me. I opened the door for him, and we entered the bar.

  Bianca waved at us from behind the bar. Her gaze flickered between the two of us, and that’s when I realized my hand was at the small of Remi’s back. I didn’t move it. I nodded to her, then looked around for a place to sit. It was crowded that night.

  “Remi!” The man with the beard—Johnny—approached and pulled Remi in for a side hug. My hand fell from Remi’s back as they greeted each other. “Glad you could make it, kid.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Remi responded, and the look in his eyes had me curious. He looked so damn happy when talking to Johnny. A stark contrast from when he spoke of his father. “Where’s Big Mike?”

  “Over there sweet-talking the ladies,” Johnny answered with a hoarse chuckle, nodding to an African American man about ten feet away who was making an entire table of older women laugh. “As always.”

  Remi grabbed my hand without hesitation and led me over to Mike. I was a bit dumbfounded, but okay with it. I liked the feel of his hand in mine. He let go of it once in front of his friend.

  “Remi, my boy!” Mike exclaimed, throwing an arm around him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? Where’s that hat I gave ya? She’s lucky, you know.”

  “Hey, Mike.” Remi patted the older man’s back. “Left her at home tonight. Didn’t go with the outfit.”

  “Boy, that hat goes with everything. She’s a gem, and you best treat her right.” Mike then looked at me, his round face wrinkling as his smile grew larger. “And who might this handsome fella be? Your new boyfr
iend? Johnny told me you were crazy about some cool cat who always hung around this place.”

  Even with the dim lighting in the bar, I saw Remi’s cheeks darken. “Johnny said all that, did he? Remind me to kick his ass after the show.”

  Mike released a hearty laugh and held his hand out to me. “Mike Weems. But you can just call me Mike. None of that mister stuff, ya hear?”

  His energy was magnetic, and his joy was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile when around him.

  “Jay Foley.” I shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Handsome and well mannered.” Mike arched a brow at Remi. “Don’t let this one go, my boy. I feel he’s a keeper.” He thumped his fist on his chest. “Right here, ya hear?”

  “We’re just friends,” Remi said in a rush, visibly mortified. He looked at me and mouthed I’m sorry.

  Thing was… I didn’t mind it. In a way, I actually liked being called Remi’s man. Which should’ve tossed me into panic mode but didn’t for some reason.

  “Just friends, eh?” Mike slung an arm around Remi’s neck. “That’s what I said shortly after I met my first wife. Next thing I knew I was watching that lovely woman walk down the aisle toward me with tears streaming down my cheeks.”

  “First wife?” I asked.

  He flashed a shit-eating grin. “I got around back in my day, young fella. Had the ladies falling at my feet.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Remi muttered, bumping his shoulder to mine.

  I snorted a laugh. Was this what it felt like to be happy with someone? I’d never experienced anything quite like it before. In one night, I had gone from denying being on a date to meeting that not-date’s friends and having a damn good time while doing it.

  It was amidst that thought when Remi’s eyes met mine, and everything else in the room faded away. I saw only him. And damn if it didn’t send my heart into some kind of fit.

  “I gotta get on stage,” Mike said to us, after saying bye to the ladies.

  “Yeah, you have to show me how it’s done,” Remi responded.

  “Are you kiddin’? I done told you, my boy. You have jazz in your soul.”