Her voice trails off as I slip a hand inside her short shorts, a finger pressing against her clit.
“Oh, Jax,” she whispers. “Keep doing that.”
I make us breakfast, and then Harmony stays back to practice and play on her new guitar while Andrew and I head out to downtown Nashville.
“You sure you don’t want me to get you a job at Baby Got BBQ?” Andrew asks me.
The hot summer sun beats down on us as we walk the pedestrian bridge over the river.
“No, thanks. If I’m starting my own place, I’ll need to put all my energy into that.”
He lifts a half grin as we get to the top of the bridge. A few joggers come past, and one bluegrass duo plays within earshot.
Leaning off the bridge, we look out over the city and share a breath of fresh air.
It’s odd seeing Andrew anywhere but our cell—especially seeing him last night in a suit coat.
As he looks out over the water, though, I can’t help but notice his smile seems forced.
“So how have you been? Sorry for not making it here earlier. Was working my ass off for a while in Blackwell.”
“I bet. How much you got saved up?”
“A lot. Don’t you worry about it. We’ll pay rent while we’re here.”
He chuckles, but it still seems forced.
“Aw, don’t worry about that now. How in the hell did a guy like you meet a girl like that anyway?”
I shrug, a grin easing onto my face. “Just some bar. How about you, man? You been all right?”
He clears his throat. “Yeah, I’ve been good. Great.”
I squint at him. “Really? You don’t look it.”
“Job’s going fine. I can put on the face and make it through every day. I’m lucky they hired a person with my kind of background.”
I put my hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “They’re the lucky ones, you smart motherfucker.”
His nostrils flare, and he tries to laugh, but an awkward noise comes out.
“I wish you were right,” he says.
Rubbing my hands together, I turn to him.
“Look, Andrew, I have a favor to ask.”
“Oh boy, here goes.”
“I need some connections to get Harmony up and performing.”
He cocks his head. “What are you, like her agent?”
“I wish. I don’t have those qualifications. Just get me a few leads. That’s all I ask. I know I could google the places and cold-call them, but you’ve been here for a while. You know the layout.”
“I’ll help you out.”
“I’ll make it worth your while.” I wink.
He rolls his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? We’re not in prison. You can’t bribe me with cigarettes anymore.”
“I’ll cook you up some of my world-famous BBQ ribs.”
He pats his stomach. “You got yourself a deal.”
We walk back to town and Andrew heads to his shift. Stopping in a bar, I make a list of all the best spots in Nashville with open mics for live music, picking the smaller venues for the first few weeks. At the very least, it will be a way for her to get used to performing in Nashville while we settle in.
As I’m walking back to the apartment, a big sign in front of Johnny’s Music Lounge catches my eye.
It’s for a songwriting contest in three months. I take one of the flyers, fold it, and put it in my pocket.
When I get back, Harmony is sitting on the couch in the main room, still immersed in playing.
She puts the guitar down. “Hey there. Where’ve you been?”
“Oh, just making a list of the open mics in the Nashville area. Here.” I hand her the notes I made and her eyes light up. “Wow, I haven’t even heard of some of these places from when I was playing the circuit way back when.”
I shrug. “That’s not surprising, Vanderbilt. These places go in and out of vogue pretty fast. But if you play like you know you can, I can guarantee you a standing O.”
She saunters closer to me, looking cute as hell in her blue yoga pants with pineapples on them and a tight white tank top.
She frowns. “Don’t get my hopes up. I mean, I know I’m good. But a standing ovation? I’ve never gotten one of those. It takes a lot for people to get into a performance these days.”
Wrapping my arms around her hips, I kiss her and press her into the wall.
“I wasn’t talking about a standing ovation from the people, Vanderbilt,” I say. “I was talking about a different kind of standing O.”
She swallows. “Oh. Ohhhhhh. You mean that kind of standing O.”
22
Harmony
The first few weeks in Nashville, it’s like I’m reborn.
It’s amazing what a week in a new city can do for you. Every day, Jax goes out and looks at properties for the restaurant he’s planning on opening. He has a master plan, which I’m actually a little surprised about, considering he didn’t let me in on those details before our shotgun trip to Nashville.
Truthfully, I’m relieved that he’s got something going on. One of my last-minute worries was that he was going to be bumming around nonstop while I try to practice, but he does nothing of the sort. Every morning, he kisses me goodbye and leaves for a few hours before coming back to cook a late lunch. I tried to cook once, but he insisted he needed to practice making dishes to stay on his game.
My appetite doesn’t mind.
We also join a gym and start going in the late afternoons before hitting the circuit of open mics in the evening. We don’t see much of Andrew, who works seventy- to eighty-hour weeks at the restaurant.
Jax is so down-to-earth and relaxed about everything, it’s almost suspicious. I’m not used to having such tremendous support in my life. Though I’ve only known Jax a few weeks, I feel like our connection is stronger than with anyone I’ve ever known.
At the gym on a Friday, he insists I do squats with him even though I have to take off basically all the weights so he can do his repetitions. Watching him grunt and sweat as he pushes up a ridiculous amount of weight does have a certain primal effect on me, though. No sense in denying that. He’s a beast.
When I go to squat, he directs my form, putting his hands on my hips to guide me up and down. I’ve never really worked out before, so this is a new experience.
My stomach flutters as he touches me, adrenaline surging through my body.
The only times I get this feeling are when I’m doing a show, and when he touches me.
On our walk back to the apartment, my mind starts to churn. Jax has been so amazing since we arrived in Nashville, it almost leaves me wondering when the other shoe is going to drop.
He’s not the most expressive man, either.
Which isn’t necessarily a problem, but even if he is the strong silent type, there are things I need to know.
“Question,” I chirp.
“Answer. Maybe,” he grins.
“This is going to sound weird.”
“Yes, I did like you slapping my butt a little during sex yesterday. And I did check you out while you were squatting. Guilty. On both counts.”
Tossing my hair over my shoulder. “You were?” I swallow.
Taking my hand as we continue walking in stride, he nods. “I admit it. But I blame those damn yoga pants. It’s impossible not to look.” A devilish smirk on his face, he brushes hair from my ear. “You can punish me when you get home.”
I roll my eyes at his cocky grin, laughing. “What?! That’s not what I was thinking. You took this conversation in a totally different direction.”
“Oh. Whoops.”
“But duly noted. No, this is serious.”
“Oh?”
I nod, taking a deep breath. “Why are you treating me so well?”
Jax recoils. “Excuse me?”
Stiffening, I continue. “You’ve been so good to me. And I don’t get it. Not totally. I’ve known you for what—a month? Not to say that we don’t have an amazing connection. We d
o. But you don’t have to do all this for me. I told you, I can get a job. I can contribute. Music can just be my side thing for now.”
We arrive at the apartment door. Jax turns his key and we trudge up the steps to the second floor.
My heart hammers as I wait for a response. I hate when he does these long, drawn-out silences—because I never know what he’s thinking.
Finally, when we’re inside, he shuts the door and turns to me.
Drawing a hand across my cheek and pushing my hair behind my ear, he stares so hard with his brown eyes that they threaten to sear a hole through my skin.
He swallows. “You’re right. This has been a whirlwind—between us, I mean. If you truly want to start working days, or something, that’s fine. I’ll tell you why I’m doing this, though.”
He averts his eyes. “When I saw you that first night, you changed something in me. I walked into LaRisa’s feeling like shit. When I left, I felt like I could take on the world. And you did that to me. It didn’t matter if I never saw you again. I don’t say this to be cold—I didn’t care if I saw you again. It didn’t matter, because you had changed me for good. No—fate had you ride home with me. And destiny had us meet up again at a party. Now we’re in Nashville, and yes, it’s crazy how fast everything happened. But I know how happy I am with you. Supporting you. Bringing your voice—your light—to the world.”
Chills roll through my body, Swallowing the lump in my throat, I try to block the tears I feel welling up in my eyes.
Jax caresses the side of my face softly.
“Honestly, I’m probably just as confused as you at how fast this train is moving. I’ve never known something like this. All I know is that for the first time in my life, I’m hopeful about the future. And not just you. I don’t want to put that pressure on you. But in general—my restaurant, and, all right, yes, you too. And I’m optimistic for the world. Because they’re about to get introduced to Harmony motherfucking Lane. I’m not a music agent. I know that. Maybe you should get one sometime soon. I’m just a guy who believes you’re the shit.”
My heart burns with fiery passion, and I lower my head, wiping my cheek against my shoulder because I don’t want him to see how ridiculously emotional I’m getting.
“Harm,” he whispers, tipping my chin up so my eyes meet his. “It’s okay. I feel it too. We’re not in a rush. Let’s just enjoy this.”
Warmth spreads inside me, and I jump into him, wrapping my arms around his back as hard as I can. His arms wrap me too, but I know he’s being gentle so as not to break me.
I feel like I can hug him as hard as I possibly can, and he’ll never break.
“Thank you for telling me all this, Jax,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome, Vanderbilt,” he growls back.
As we hug, our bodies grind into each other. He must feel the warmth, too, because his hands slip from behind my back to my ass, and he helps me shift my legs so that my clit is grinding against his leg. Hanging onto his neck, I kiss him like crazy.
“I want you so much, Harm,” he whispers in my ear, his hands hungrily touching me anywhere they can find.
“Fuck me,” I whisper desperately. “Please fuck me, Jax.”
He tugs down my yoga pants, and I pull his pants down, his cock instantly springing up.
“I want to feel you raw so bad,” Jax growls as he teases me with his tip, just like the very first night.
“I’m on the pill,” I mewl. “It’s fine.”
His eyes go wide. “Really? I don’t want to . . .”
Putting my hand on his base, I bend down and take him in my mouth.
He mutters guttural noises, all unintelligible. I revel in having caught him off guard for once.
Closing my eyes, I moan as I bob my head up and down on his hard length, feeling his hands ponytailing my hair and caressing my back.
Goosebumps cascade down my skin, and butterflies flutter inside as I feel the vibrations of his moans through my lips.
He gently pulls my head away, and I suck in a hard breath. “God, that’s hot. But I need to be inside you—now.”
“Okay,” I mutter, and Jax pulls off my shoes and takes my pants away from my ankles. He’s always the patient one, the teasing one, and it turns me on so much to hear the urgency in his voice.
Hoisting me up like I weigh nothing, he positions me on the kitchen table, and I help him spread my legs.
We make eye contact, one last lucid moment before he carries me off to dreamland.
He doesn’t tease me with his tip and play games this time.
Jax thrusts into me deeply, and I’m slick as I feel him raw for the first time.
My body shudders and warmth envelopes me as he fucks me deeply, wholly, with extreme urgency.
With his hands on my hips, he helps us find our perfect rhythm, and I crescendo to a delicious orgasm.
The kitchen table shakes, and I think an extra plate falls off on the other side, but I can’t be sure because I’m caught in a vortex. There is only Jax and me.
There is only us.
“Holy Jesus that feels good,” I mutter.
Jax’s hands seem to touch everywhere, rubbing against my breasts, my hips, my neck.
Anchoring my hands on the back of his neck, I tighten around his hard flesh and feel another wave of pleasure crash through me. The earth quakes and my world shatters again.
Or maybe that’s just another plate.
Jax grunts and closes his eyes. I can barely make out the words he says.
“Baby,” I whisper. “Come on my stomach.”
“Yeah,” he whispers, barely audible. Gasping, he pulls out and shoots onto my belly as my body quivers at the loss of him inside me.
“Wow,” he says, breathing hard when he’s done.
“I know,” I breathe. “I mean, where did that come from?”
“It’s a lot.”
“Yeah. You should be sorry,” I say, biting my lip.
He throws his head back in laughter. “Yeah, Harm.” Leaning in, he kisses me. “I’m sorry you’re so hot you make me come so much.”
I shiver. “Never thought of it like that.”
Raking a hand through his hair, he glances at the clock behind us on the microwave.
“Oh, shit. Open mic starts in thirty. We need to roll.”
I wiggle my eyebrows as Jax hands me a towel. “You sure you don’t have one more in you? We could make it quick.”
He licks his lips. “Dammit. Don’t tempt me, Vanderbilt.”
Touching his side, I pull him in. “We can be five minutes late for open mic. Right?”
23
Harmony
“I have a confession to make, Harm.”
Jax’s words come as we’re sitting in a bar before my open mic slot is slated to begin.
I get a lump in my throat when he says that, though.
“A confession?” I clear my throat.
He nods slyly. “Shit, Vanderbilt. Maybe I shouldn’t even tell you.”
My eyes bulge and my mind races with possibilities as I stare at the man.
Jax sips his whisky, calm and collected, much like he’s been for the past few weeks.
In fact, things have been going so well that part of me has been starting to wonder if he’s been hiding something.
Aside from a few night terrors when he’s woken up in a cold sweat, Jax has been almost miraculous to me.
Reaching across the table, I lay my hand on Jax’s forearm arm and squeeze lightly, examining his face.
This is the big drop. There’s got to be something he’s hiding.
Because no man is perfect.
I never thought it was possible that a man would happily make me breakfast after morning sex and insist—INSIST—that I just write songs and play.
But at the same time, I haven’t felt smothered by him. He’s laying the groundwork for starting a new restaurant in Nashville, and although we haven’t discussed it much, I get the feeling that he’s trying to d
rop anchor here. And who knows if that will involve me.
For now, I’m just enjoying the ride.
“Tell me. What is it?”
Jax clenches up. “Eh, I don’t know if I should tell you now.”
I give his forearm a strong squeeze. “You have to tell me now.”
He takes a pull of his whisky. I watch his Adam’s apple move as he swallows hard, and then he links his fingers in mine.
“I pulled some strings through one of Andrew’s connections and got an agent to come out here for you. She’s not here, but she’s at your nine o’clock venue. I figured this could be a warm-up, and then when we get to Yazzies later tonight—when the agent is there—you’ll be ready to go and you can hit them with the new material you’ve been working on.”
Relief washes through me. “That’s it? That’s your big confession?”
Jax smirks. “What did you think it was?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. It’s just, the way things have been progressing so quickly with us—I don’t know, I’m still waiting for this big reveal from you.”
“You think I’m hiding something?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” I sip my vodka soda nervously. “It’s just . . . you’re like the perfect guy.”
His nostrils flare, and he closes his hand over my wrist.
“I’m far from perfect, Harm.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
He sits up tall. “This is going to make me sound like a crazy person, but I’m going to say it anyway.”
“Say it,” I say with an air of nervousness.
“I feel like I’ve known you for a really long time. Not just this last month. Like much, much longer. When you talk about progressing ‘fast,’ it doesn’t even feel like that to me. It feels totally natural. I suppose when a normal person thinks about a relationship, they have the regular progression. A few dates, some dinner. Meet the friends, play texting games. I don’t know. Isn’t that what the kids are doing these days?”
Under the table, I slip out of my shoe and rub my foot against his jeans.
“I’ve never had any idea what the ‘normal kids’ are doing,” I answer, using air quotes. “I don’t believe in normal.”
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