Don and Jules started their adventure at a sushi restaurant. She immediately balked, figuring there would be nothing on that menu she’d like. “It’ll be great,” he encouraged as he guided her to their table with his hand on the small of her back. He ordered some warm sake and salted, steamed edamame pods to start.
“Oh, good,” she quipped as she glanced over the menu. “At least they cook something.”
He laughed and took her menu away. “Where’s your spirit of adventure?”
“Sitting right next to the barf bag,” she shot back.
“You’ll never know if you’re going like something until you try it,” he said. “Trust me. I won’t lead you astray.”
Surprisingly she found that she enjoyed the edamame pods, with a slight bite of saltiness adding texture to the earthy taste of the bean. He ordered three different rolls for them to try, a California roll, a shrimp tempura roll and a crunchy vegetable roll. She eyed the nori suspiciously. “What’s this black stuff?”
“I’ll tell you after you try it,” he laughed.
Gingerly she took a bite. It wasn’t half bad. In fact, mixed with the sticky rice and the tempura, it was rather tasty. It was tasty enough that she wanted to keep eating it even after he told her it was seaweed.
She found herself reaching for piece after piece, until they had practically wiped each plate clean. The sake left her feeling warm from the inside out. She didn’t drink as a rule, but it was a mellow buzz that had her in good spirits when he directed her to the next stop on their itinerary.
It was a karaoke bar and once again she balked. “Trust me,” he repeated as he led her inside. The place was packed with a rowdy crowd, so he curved his arm around her shoulders as they found their way to a table. He ordered champagne the minute they were seated.
“This is too much,” she said with the shake of her head.
“Nah, we’re just making up for lost time. How long has it been since you really let your hair down?”
She thought about it. “What decade is this?”
He laughed. “My point.” He leaned close so they could hear each other. “The thing about suffering is it always hurts you more than it helps or hurts anyone else. In the end, only you can make it better.”
She searched his eyes. She could tell he had learned that the hard way after his wife died. He had been through so much, and yet he was the most jovial person she knew. “Come on,” she said as she scooted out of her chair.
They picked a duet to sing together. He convinced her to go with “Afternoon Delight,” a 1970s song about love in the afternoon, which was deliciously risqué for the time, but it was nothing but nostalgic fun now. For their second song they revisited Three Dog Night, which was a definitely crowd-pleaser. They crept into the 1980s, with songs she had listened to as a teenager, sung by powerhouse singers like Aretha Franklin and George Michael.
Once she started, she couldn’t stop. It was like a vocal buffet and she couldn’t wait to try them all on for size.
She toasted him with her glass of champagne. “You really know how to show a girl a good time,” she said. “Thank you for all this.”
“Thank you for coming with me. It’s a lot more fun when you’re doing it with someone else.”
She laughed. “Isn’t everything?”
His voice softened. “Absolutely.”
There was something in his eyes, just a flash of something that instantly took her breath away. Her heart skipped a beat and she looked away. Instead she focused on their next song. It was midnight before they left. Despite the lateness of the hour, neither was particularly tired. It was his idea to head to the beach.
“I’ve never been to the ocean,” she confessed.
“Then that settles it,” he decided at once. They pointed the car west and didn’t stop until they ran out of land. They trudged through the sand toward the water’s edge. It was black as night, stretching as far as she could see. The waves lapped against the shore, its sea foam contrasted against the darkness of the water and the blackened sky above it. He took off his jacket and laid it on the sand so they could sit.
“Wow,” was all she could say. He was looking at her and he felt the exact same way. “Too bad Vi had to miss it,” she added when she turned to face him. His eyes were just as dark as the Pacific in front of them.
“Yeah, too bad,” he said, trying to hide his smirk but failing miserably.
She studied his face. “Was this a date?”
“Well, I don’t know,” he murmured with that teasing smile. “Let’s examine the evidence. What do you consider a date?”
“Food,” she said. He nodded.
“Check.”
“Wine.”
“Check.”
“There was music, but I don’t know if it counts. Isn’t there usually dancing?”
He pursed his lips. “You have a point. I don’t know that you can have a proper date without dancing.” He let that hang there until she said something.
Her pulse pounded in her ears. “You’re probably right.”
He cupped his ear to the sea. “Do you hear that?” he said.
“What?”
“Sounds like music.” He rose to his feet and held out a hand. She stared at him only for a moment before she let him pull her up as well. He wrapped one arm around her waist and took her hand in his. They stared into each other’s eyes as they swayed to the sound of the ocean. Softly he began to sing the song that they originally sang in her kitchen. She smiled and didn’t hesitate to join in. He spun her around. She giggled in spite of herself, especially when he started to mimic the sounds of the guitar during the instrumental parts.
Their voices rose in the quiet stillness of the beach, taking the song home. He pulled her into a hug when they were done. “So we have food, wine and dancing. That sounds like a pretty good date, yeah?”
She nodded. Shyly her eyes met his. “Only one thing missing.”
He lost himself in her big brown eyes. The hardness that had been there from the day they met had finally softened. He wasn’t sure when it happened, or how, but the change was there. His mouth slowly descended to cover hers softly. She shuddered in spite of herself.
It had been so long since she had felt arms around her. Her soul had been starving for affection. She didn’t realize how much until Don kissed her. She locked her arms around the back of his neck, pressed into him and deepened the kiss. Both were breathless when they finally came up for air.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Is that the thing that was missing?”
She actually giggled as she shook her head. “A cold shower,” she said with a playful gleam in her eye.
“Oh, there will be one of those,” he assured her. “Trust me.”
As she reached for yet another kiss, she finally realized that she did. She truly did.
Chapter Fourteen
The weekend was so jam-packed that Jonah never did get a chance to ask Lacy why she had come out of Tony Paul’s room. They were doing two group numbers on elimination night, with fewer contestants, so that meant they all had a lot more steps to learn. Though he danced quite a bit for pleasure in his heyday, actual choreography was a challenge. He noted that though Tony Paul was having a little bit more trouble with it, given his extra weight and his bad knee, even Jonah had to admit he looked a lot better now than when the competition first started.
Back then he was bloated and lethargic. Now he had more energy and was peeling away all the layers that had prevented him from chasing after a record contract with Jasper Carrington. If they both stayed all the way to the May finale, he might just give Jonah a run for his money as the Fierce Season Three Beefcake.
Week Eight was fraught with nervous energy. Whoever was eliminated went out at number thirteen, missing the summer tour by a hair. It made every rehearsal important. No one missed their chance to practice with the band. People were practicing everywhere, even at the studio in the mansion. You couldn’t turn north, south, east or west without
hearing someone singing their song somewhere. They didn’t want to miss the gig of a lifetime just because of some mangled lyrics.
That was embarrassing enough. That they would do it in front of a worldwide audience was even worse.
Lacy wasn’t too worried about that. The theme for the week was Songwriters, so she had picked a song she had grown up with, thanks to her father’s many cassette tapes. It was simply impossible to go wrong with John Lennon, especially such an iconic tune.
She could have sung it in her sleep if she had to.
Jonah opted for Johnny Cash, and Jorge jumped into that theme with both feet. He dressed Jonah top to toe in black, with closefitting trousers and a sleek, silky black shirt that opened just enough to get a glimpse of dark hair smattered on his chest. Jorge had considered the idea of manscaping Jonah over the past few weeks, but when he saw how rugged and virile he looked with those first two buttons opened on his shirt, he decided he couldn’t mess with a work of art.
Tony Paul had chosen “Cats in the Cradle” by Harry Chapin Carpenter. Immediately it set off warning bells for Jonah, who was beginning to suspect that Tony Paul was trying a different tactic to get into Lacy’s pants. He was trying to use Cody, which, to Jonah, was unforgiveable.
From what he could tell, Lacy hadn’t seen much of the rehearsal. It was entirely possible she didn’t even know. There were still plenty of contestants to juggle throughout the week. They all depended on structured schedules that staggered their time slots. He hadn’t seen Courtney on the studio lot at all that week, but they usually always managed to say hi at some point during the day.
She had gone with Dolly Parton’s version of “I Will Always Love You.” Though she didn’t say it, he secretly wondered if it was a message she was sending him in the only way she knew how. With every week, they were one week closer to saying goodbye to the competition, the house and each other. The longer they stayed, the more devastating the goodbye. They couldn’t take any of these moments for granted. It could change in a heartbeat, taking out a top performer for nothing more than a bad week.
He thought again about Tony Paul’s song selection. Was he laying the groundwork for that critical, inevitable moment when the story about Cody finally broke? Or was he just trying to say the things he wouldn’t get to say once he was gone? Either possibility was equally valid, especially now that the rumor mill had latched onto some contrived scandal between Vanni and Lacy.
But as each day bled into the other, they had precious little time to worry about it. They had a job to do and one chance to do it right. By the time Monday rolled around, they were all understandable bundles of nerves.
Both Lacy and Jonah watched Shiloh take the stage first, which had a history this particular season of being a death knell no matter what song was played or what singer sang it. Shiloh had taken a bit of a beating in previous weeks for not shedding his 80s metal persona. This week would either make him or break him.
He walked out onto the stage in his bare feet, a pair of jeans and a blue denim shirt he didn’t bother to tuck in. His dark hair was long around his face and, like Jonah, he had started growing a beard. He looked every inch a hippie from the stubbly facial hair to the silver rings on every single finger. He sat, crossed-legged, in the middle of the stage under a lone spotlight. You could have heard a pin drop as everyone waited to see what he was going to do, because it was completely different from anything he’d already done.
He strummed his guitar to the opening notes of “Into the Mystic” by Van Morrison, and the band quietly filled in the music behind him. There was no dark arrangement this time around. He paid homage to the song and all its perfect simplicity by performing it as written. What he added to the song was him. His voice was deeply layered with pain only he could summon. Lacy instinctively knew that he was singing to his kids. Tears welled in her eyes as she watched him. He directed most of his performance directly to the camera, to send his message home.
When he was done, she jumped to her feet and applauded her friend’s courage. It inspired others around her to do likewise. The judges sang his praises, overwhelmed by the unexpected emotional performance. All any of them could do now was pray the viewing audience would remember it.
It was a night chock-full of amazing performances. Courtney nailed the Dolly Parton song. That she shed a tear or two told both Jonah and Lacy that it had significant personal meaning, and both suspected it had everything to do with Jonah.
Lacy’s performance was well received, too. “Raising your standard has become your standard,” Vanni praised. “Whether you tour with us or by yourself, the future ahead of you is bright.”
She wanted to offer him a warm smile but was afraid of everything being misconstrued. She simply nodded.
Her biggest surprise of the night was Tony Paul’s performance of the infamous song about a father and his son, and the regret he felt after years of neglecting his child. She barely blinked as she watched him sing with more feeling than she ever thought he could muster. Her heart ached as she listened. Tears chased each other down her face, though she was barely aware of it. Only Jonah saw them. It hurt more than he wanted to admit.
No matter what had happened between them, they were bonded forever because of that little boy. In Austin that had been a non-issue. Tony Paul was M.I.A., so Jonah never had to face, day after day, the idea that she belonged to Tony Paul in a way that she didn’t belong to anyone else.
In California, he couldn’t seem to get away from it.
When Tony Paul was done, he looked directly at Lacy. There were tears in both of their eyes. Lacy had to wrench her eyes away before anyone took notice. But it was too late. Jonah witnessed it all.
Jonah ended up closing the show, his version of “Ring of Fire” more apt than he could have ever realized. All the longing and yearning swept through his silky voice as he sang the slower, more seductive arrangement. His unusual eyes pierced the camera as he channeled all his sexual frustration in a song about forbidden love.
He knew a thing or two about that.
It was so sexy that Allison had to fan herself as she watched. “Welcome to the tour,” she said with a grin.
All in all, there were no bumpy performances, so everyone was euphoric as they headed to the after-party. They all felt they had equal chances to make the tour. Of course that meant they all had equal chances to go home as well, but no one really wanted to think about that. For just one night, they wanted to celebrate their triumph, without worrying about their inevitable defeat.
Because Vi and Jules had become friends, Lacy and Jonah ended up in the same small group that included their fourteen-year-old competitor, Sydney Lambert. She had been consistently praised throughout the competition for having a voice far more mature than her years. She sang old songs like she had already lived through the pain. Offstage, however, she was a typical teenaged girl. She had a tutor to keep her on track with her studies. She enjoyed silly movies and loved to laugh. She didn’t have one malicious, calculating bone in her body. She was sunny as her light blonde hair.
After spending any time at all with her father, Don, Lacy could see where she got it. He was a good-humored man who could make anyone laugh, including her mother. Lacy had never seen her mother interact with a man outside of her father, and those days had been contentious at best. With Don she seemed like a brand new person. Not only did she laugh, but she involved herself in the conversation and stood close to her new friends, who seemed to bring out the best in her in a way Lacy would have never imagined. It was a curious thing to witness. They ended up leaving early, mostly because Jules needed to get home to Cody. She didn’t like leaving him with the sitter for long. It became her singular goal to beat the Hollises back to the townhomes each and every week, just so she wouldn’t have to worry that they’d force their way into her house when she wasn’t there.
Lacy almost wished she could go with him. It had been an emotional night. Actually, it had been an emotional week. She needed to see C
ody in the worst way, though she couldn’t risk any more innuendo or misunderstandings.
Who knew? She might be going home the following night and she’d get to see him every night for the rest of her life.
Jonah sensed her trepidation. He cupped her elbow with his hand. “Let’s go.”
She allowed him to lead her out to the car, which they managed to share all by themselves on the way back to the house. Jonah stole a sideways glance in her direction. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “It’s out of our hands now. No sense worrying about it. We did the best we could. That’s all we could do.” She stared out of the window. He struggled to find something to say.
“Lacy,” he began. She turned to him. Her dark eyes were his kryptonite as he stared down into her face. He wanted to tell her that he loved her. He wanted to tell her that he needed her. He wanted to tell her that if she went home the next night, or if he did, it would kill him. With every day they shared, he wanted another one to replace it when it was over. He couldn’t get enough of her. He never had.
Instead of saying anything, he pulled her into his arms. Surprisingly she let him. She was the one who tipped her chin and invited his kiss. They had been careful not to get caught at the house or at the lot, but at last they were alone, with only the driver nearby, but he was safely obscured by the privacy glass.
His warm mouth covered hers, capturing her sigh. He cupped her face with his hand, strands of her silky hair tangling around his fingers. He moaned deep in his throat. It was as though he had been starving for her.
It was just a damn shame it was such a short drive to the mansion. He wanted to savor her, but they didn’t have that option. Not for the foreseeable future, anyway.
He pulled her over his lap, where she straddled his hips. His hands slid down her back and over her ass as he guzzled the wine of her kiss. He strained against her, impossibly hard impossibly fast. He needed her more than he needed to breathe. “God, Lacy. I want you so bad.”
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