The Rock Star Wants a Wife

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The Rock Star Wants a Wife Page 8

by Demelza Carlton


  Paige had told him time and time again that the viewers wanted romance and kisses, to match the show's ratings, and the more kisses, the better. But he didn't do things that way. Not really. Not since Paige herself, and he'd come a long way from the shy, eager musician he'd been back then.

  Maia didn't seem any more eager to lock lips than he did, so Jason was relieved when the cameraman lowered his all-seeing eye to remind them that the movie would start soon.

  The lens was turned to them for the walk to the cinema. Jason offered Maia his arm and she curled her fingers into the crook of his elbow. They were forced to wait outside while the cameraman filmed them standing in front of the century-old Sun Cinemas.

  Inside...well, that was the funny part, really. The cinema was actually outside again, in the open air. Cloth hammocks slung between parallel poles made up the seats, row after row of them. Jason vaguely remembered something similar at Rottnest, when he'd visited as a kid in the school holidays and they'd turned the old hall into a movie theatre. That was different, though. Sun Cinemas was like a drive-in, without the cars.

  Jason and Maia were ushered to the seats in the front row, with several rows cordoned off behind them. It was a weeknight, so the place was pretty empty anyway, but the back three rows were full. Jason grinned. Being a back-seat bogan was more his style, too, but he had to toe the line tonight. If he so much as touched Maia, Paige wanted it captured clearly on film.

  Someone had provided them with popcorn and drinks, but no matter how seductively that buttery smell tempted his nostrils, he didn't think he could eat a single bite of the fluffy, yellow kernels. He offered the box to Maia, who shook her head. She'd eaten her fill of dinner, too.

  The big, white screen at the front glowed into life, with an ad for some local business.

  Something skittered across the screen and Maia jumped. "What was that? A snake?"

  More skittering. Jason squinted at the tiny shapes. "Nah. Just lizards, I think. Geckos, the ones with sticky toes. They climb all over the ceilings at the resort. Like frogs, really. We can't seem to get rid of them. I guess they want to see the movie, too."

  "What movie are we seeing?" Maia asked.

  Jason shrugged. "I didn't ask. I didn't pick it."

  Maia shivered. "I hope it's not scary. Not after today."

  Jason slipped a comforting arm around her shoulder. This he knew how to do. "Tell you what. If they screen anything even slightly scary, I'll walk out with you. We can go get a hotel room, order drinks from room service, and watch pay-per-view cartoons until you've had your fill."

  Maia nodded. "Deal."

  They didn't have a deal, though, as the opening sequence of a romantic comedy flashed up on the screen.

  They both shrugged and settled into their sling seats.

  Half an hour into the movie, the roar of a jet engine drowned out the sound. Half-lying in the hammock chair, Jason swore as the belly of a plane appeared low overhead, so close it looked like it might hit the screen. It didn't, though – there was plenty of clearance between it and the screen as the plane commenced its ascent to cruising altitude.

  As the sound of Qantas' movie crasher died away, Jason became aware of laughter from the back rows. The locals were used to this, it seemed, and they took in the tourists' panic as part of the night's performance.

  "I thought it was going to crash, too," Maia whispered, releasing her hold on Jason's hand.

  His fingers tingled as circulation returned. "Always an adventure in the Kimberley," he drawled for the camera, before settling in to watch the rest of the movie.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Jason towelled off his hair in the hotel bathroom, then pulled on his shorts. It was too hot to sleep in any more than that, even with the ever-present air conditioning. He reached for the doorknob, but voices on the other side of the door stopped him. No, just one raised voice – Maia, talking to someone on the phone, he decided.

  He knew all about the studio's no-communication rules during filming, so he didn't feel guilty at all for listening in. If he heard what she said, he could decide whether to report the conversation to Paige or not. After all, she could just be ordering room service.

  "No, let me talk to him," Maia said. A pause, followed by, "Hello, sweetheart."

  Not room service. Jason pressed his ear to the door.

  "Mmm-hmm," "Ye-es..." "Well..." and a couple more instances of "Mmm-hmm" punctuated the silence, until Maia said, "You know you shouldn't watch those movies with Grandpa, because they always give you nightmares."

  More silence.

  "Then don't watch them. Or tell Grandpa to wait until you're asleep before he watches them. You have plenty of movies and shows on your iPad. Ones that do let you sleep at night. Okay. I'll call back when I can, but I don't know when that will be. Yes, I'll be home as soon as I can, but it might be weeks. I really don't know. Put Grandpa back on, please." A pause. "I love you, too, sweetheart."

  Jason listened in fascination as Maia proceeded to deliver a lecture to her dad about what movies her eight-year-old son could watch and why Hannibal Lecter, Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees were not appropriate role models for someone Herman's age.

  Fuck. He hadn't watched those movies in years. Now he wanted to. Not near Maia, though. She sounded like she hated the entire horror genre. Pity.

  Jason made a big show of rattling the doorknob as he unlocked it, so Maia would have a chance to finish her phone call before he wandered in to the living area of their shared apartment. Suite. Whatever it was.

  Maia had her back to him, but she evidently knew he was there. "You heard all that, didn't you?"

  Jason nodded, then realised she couldn't see him. "Yes."

  "You have to tell the people from the TV show about it, don't you?"

  "Not if I don't want to."

  She spun around and stared at him. "What?"

  Jason shrugged. "If it's not captured on camera, as far as they're concerned, it didn't happen. It's not like you're telling show secrets to your family. Are you?"

  Maia shook her head slowly. "Of course not. What's to tell, anyway? My son has nightmares enough without hearing about what happened today. He's always had a vivid imagination and Dad's horror movie marathon will give him sleepless nights for months now. He still can't watch that Disney movie with Princess Tiana because the voodoo villain gave him nightmares." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "I'm a bad mother coming up here for so long. I'm all he's got after his dad left. I shouldn't have left him..."

  He was getting good at this sympathy thing. Jason moved in for a hug, letting her cry on his chest for as long as she needed. He could have another shower, after all – there was no shortage of hot water at this hotel.

  Maia gave a giant sniffle and pulled away from him, backing up a few steps. "Mr Felix, I've had the best night out in years with you tonight, even with lizards, crocodiles and that 747. I'm grateful to you for everything tonight. But I'm not Daphne or Lorelei or one of your fangirls. I...I haven't been with a man since...since...and I don't think..." She waved at his groin.

  Jason glanced down. Huh. Hugging her had given him the beginnings of a hard-on, which his shorts didn't hide in the slightest. He tried to think unsexy thoughts. Freddy Krueger's face, for a start. Fuck, that did it. Flaccid as a dead fish.

  He cleared his throat. "Paige booked us an apartment, not me. We're sharing because it's easier for the film crew to set up in the living area instead of a normal sized hotel room. There's two bedrooms. We can flip a coin for the bigger bed, if you like, or you can just have it." For the first time, he cursed his rock star reputation. "I've slept with plenty of women, Maia, but they all approached me and asked me for it. I might be a rock star, but I'm a gentleman, I swear. If you want me to get another room on the other side of the hotel, I'll do it."

  She stared at him for a long time. Not just his body, but his face, too. Finally, she said, "No, stay here. My tent's closer to your cabin in the camp than the bedrooms are here. Just as
long as you don't expect me to...put out...on a first date."

  Jason laughed. "And I usually put out without expecting a date. Tonight was different. Normal in a way I never thought I'd get to be again. Thank you." He followed Maia's gaze down his body. "If you change your mind, you only have to ask."

  He hadn't made that offer to Daphne, but Maia was different. More down-to-earth. More normal, and fuck knew he needed more normal in his life. Even if it came with an eight-year-old son.

  Maia blushed. "I won't. But I wish..." She raised her phone. "Would you let me take a picture? I know I'll regret my decision, but it's the right thing to do. One day I'm going to wish I'd said yes, and if I have a picture to remind me, the fantasy might feel a little more real."

  Jason grinned and struck a pose. Several, actually, while Maia blushed and laughed and snapped pictures.

  After a few minutes, she remembered herself and put the phone down on the table. "Thank you," she whispered.

  "Tell me something," he said. When he had her attention, he continued, "Do you expect a kiss on a first date?"

  Maia smiled sadly. "I don't expect anything any more. But if a date goes well, and I like the man, I don't mind a kiss goodnight." Yearning filled her eyes.

  Jason wouldn't deny her. He stepped forward, then took another step, until she was within arm's reach again. He lifted a hand to cup her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "Good night, Maia."

  She closed her eyes and swayed closer, leaning in so her face was millimetres from his.

  Jason took a deep breath, then pressed his lips to hers. Soft and pliant, parted the tiniest bit so he could taste her sweet breath, but not her tongue. A sweet kiss, but a short one.

  "Sweet dreams, Maia," he whispered, before heading to his bedroom. He closed the door behind him and leaned his head against the cool timber. Fuck. The first of these girls he could seriously consider...but he couldn't, in conscience, keep her away from her son. Thank fuck the cameras hadn't captured any of that.

  THIRTY

  Penny watched Jay and Maia's return with narrowed eyes, and not just because she was facing the rising sun. Jay helped Maia out of the boat, and she blushed at his touch. That confirmed it, in Penny's eyes. They all knew the pair had spent the night together in town, but Penny was certain they'd spent it in the same bed. Not sleeping.

  Was that Jay's plan? He intended to sleep his way through all the girls, and declare the best bonker his bride? That was bullshit. Absolute, complete, utter bullshit. The sun was barely up and her day was already shot to hell.

  Savagely, she chopped the bacon into slivers. She'd planned on just dicing it, but now she wanted to turn it into a gourmet omelette that would tantalise Jay's taste buds so thoroughly that he couldn't help but notice her and compliment her cooking.

  She sliced the onion finer still, wanting the flavour to infuse her cooking with none of the texture to distract from the fluffy egg. And it would be fluffy. She'd beat it by hand into fucking froth.

  "Whatcha cooking?"

  Penny looked up in surprise to find Jay in the kitchen with her, and no Maia. "Breakfast."

  Jay jerked his chin at the cutting board. "Looks like more than the toast and cereal I had on my first morning here. Is it a secret recipe?"

  Penny twisted her hands together. "Not really. Sort of. I'm just making omelettes, but you have to get the balance right between all the flavours and textures or it's too much. I have onion, bacon, eggs, milk...but what I really want is some freshly grated mozzarella. It gives that cheese taste to it, without overwhelming, and..." She reddened. Swapping recipes with a rock star? Yeah, right.

  Jay didn't seem to mind. "Is there anything I can do to help? I'm not much of a cook. Mostly because I never really bothered, and now it's so much easier to just order something from the resort chef."

  "You could fire up the barbeque," she suggested half-heartedly.

  "Light stuff on fire? I'm your man." Jay grinned, grabbed a box of matches and headed out to the veranda.

  Penny watched him, wondering if he'd really do it or if he'd delegate the task to someone else. No, he really was a do-it-himself man, she realised, as he leaned over to get a closer look at the burners as he turned on the gas and clicked the ignitor.

  He had a perfect arse, too, she decided, as her eyes fixed on the back of his dark shorts. Curved like a ripe plum, just begging you to bite through the skin...

  Jay coughed. He'd caught her checking him out. "Your barbeque is ready and waiting, madame. Is there anything else I can do?"

  Bend over like that a lot more, right where I can see you, Penny thought but didn't say. "You could set out the plates while I cook."

  "Consider it done."

  True to his word, Jay had everything out on the trestle table by the time the hotplate had reached the right temperature. Penny splashed a few drops of water on it to make sure. When the droplets danced to her satisfaction, she spread butter over the cooking surface, watching it bubble just the right amount before she added small spoonfuls of onion and bacon, evenly spaced across the grill. She sautéed each carefully until the onion turned glassy and the bacon sent out its savoury aroma in a clarion call to the rest of the camp. Next, she poured a perfect circle of the egg mixture so that it engulfed one portion of bacon and onion.

  Jay clapped. "Breakfast from a master chef!"

  Penny glanced up to see the camera firmly fixed on her and Jay. Finally. She took a deep breath and poured another circle, trying and failing to keep her hands from shaking. The second one was more oval than the first, but the third and fourth were properly round again. She wanted to do more, but it was better to be safe than sorry – the first was already bubbling, waiting to be flipped. With a practiced hand that had mastered hundreds of cruise ship pancakes, she flipped the omelette so that it landed without a wrinkle, back on the grill. The second, football-shaped one was easy, but she botched the third, folding one of the edges. Penny paid particular attention to the fourth, so it was perfect.

  "You've got to teach me how to do that," Jay breathed.

  An apprentice chef, teach a rock star how to cook? That was wrong on so many levels. But she'd look bad if she refused, especially with the camera rolling. "If you want," she said, reaching for a plate to place the first finished omelette on. She added a spoonful of buttered mushrooms, still warm from the pot she'd heated earlier. With a few flicks of her spatula, she folded the omelette like a filled crepe.

  Jay held out the next plate, like a well-trained kitchenhand. No, he had the plates laid out along his arm like a well-trained waiter. When had he learned to...?

  "I wasn't always a rock star. Starving musicians have to do something to pay the bills, too. And some restaurants even gave me food to take home, so I didn't have to starve." Jay said this in a low voice that only she could hear, but the cameraman was so close that she couldn't be sure. She'd never be able to tell such a personal story like she didn't care if the show shared it on national television. Especially not one that made her look...like a failure. Not that he was a failure now, of course. He was the epitome of success. A rock god, even.

  "Can you show me how to do that? I promise I'll eat whatever mess I make," Jay said.

  Penny shook her head to clear it. "I guess." She spooned more bacon and onion onto the grill, explaining every step as she stirred and flipped the piles with her spatula. Pouring the egg mixture was simpler, so she just demonstrated for the first three, before handing the jug to Jay. "You try."

  Before she could stop him, he poured a slash of egg across the grill, completely missing the onion, but splashing some on his own foot. "Oops."

  Penny laughed, wrapped her hand around his much larger one and guided the jug back to where he should have started. An omelette lake formed, merging with Jay's slash so the whole thing looked like Saturn, rings and all. The first three were ready to flip, so she took care of them, handing her spatula to Jay for his planetary pancake. "Run it under the edges to loosen it, then get the spa
tula right under the middle. You have to get a bit of loft under it when you flip it so it doesn't – "

  Saturn splatted in a messy slag heap on the grill.

  " – bunch up like that." Penny snatched the spatula and did her best to repair the damage. No matter what she did, it wasn't going to be pretty. She served up the other three, but Jay's misshapen one wouldn't lie flat, let alone fold around the mushrooms. "Look, I can make you another one. There's plenty of batter."

  "Nope. I'm good." Jay grabbed a fork and dug in. "Still tastes great. This has to be the best breakfast anyone's ever made me, Penelope." He pressed his lips to her cheek in a fleeting kiss that was over before she'd realised what he was doing. And then he was gone, striding down the steps to the fire pit.

  Penny lifted her fingers to her cheek. Compliments and kisses from Jay Felix. On camera, no less. What a beautiful day it was.

  THIRTY-ONE

  "Who are you taking on the hovercraft on Saturday?" Paige asked Jason during lunch.

  He glanced back at the girls, who were all clustered around the table, making their sandwiches. Who hadn't he spent time with? The sun flashed on a head of coppery hair. "Melissa."

  "Good choice for a sunset cruise. I hope you plan to kiss her. The boys told me they have exactly one kiss out of all the hours of footage they've taken. One. And that was when you had egg on your face by the barbeque this morning. I'm not even sure we can use that one. Though if you can't do better, we might have to."

  Jason screwed his face up in irritation. "What do you mean, if I can't do better? I picked these girls because I think they might be bride material. I don't give a fuck what you think about them or me. You don't want me and that's fine, but that doesn't mean no one does. I'm a fucking rock star now. I can have any girl I want. And I narrowed it down to those five there. I don't want better. They are exactly the sort of girl I want!"

 

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