“So have you, Trish. We wouldn’t be here without you. You forget that, and it pisses me the fuck off when you do. Hell, you’ve put more energy into this band than anyone else, including us. You’ve made us your life, and don’t think we don’t know all the sacrifices you had to make and all of the opportunities you’ve turned down for us.”
“I’ve believed in you guys since the first night in that crappy bar, Sam. That’s never going to change.”
“It’s a shame you can’t put that kind of faith in Jarrod, Trish. You’ve been putting your life on hold for the last five years for us. Don’t you think you deserve to be happy? And don’t tell me Jarrod isn’t what would make you happy, because we all know that’s a damn lie. I love you like a sister, Trish, but one day, he’s going to get sick of waiting around for you to trust him, and he’ll either take what he wants or he’ll walk away. What happens then? What happens when you can’t fight it anymore?”
“I don’t know. I just can’t think about it, all right? Now, enough talk. Go shower, you stink. I’ll meet you on the bus.” How was she supposed to tell him that working in PR wasn’t making her happy anymore? What if they hated her for wanting to do something else with her life? They were her family, and there was no way she could lose them.
Sam took off his shirt and dropped it on the floor, looking at her with a smile that told her this conversation was the furthest thing from over. “Fine, I’ll drop it for now. Get some sleep, Trish. You look like shit. Whatever is going on in that head of yours, we’ve all noticed that something has been off with you lately. So when you’re ready to trust us with whatever that is, we’ll all be here for you.” She hated how he could read her so well. It made it so damn hard to hide things from him and the rest of the band.
As she made her way to the bus to wait for the guys, she said hi to every member of the crew she came across. She loved every single person on this tour, and she knew they worked ten times harder than she did to make sure every show happened without a hitch. She made sure to treat everyone as she would like to be treated, and they all loved her for it.
“Miss Monroe? Miss Monroe, wait up.” Patricia turned around to see the youngest member of their crew, David, the son of one of the sound engineers. As he approached, she knelt down to be at the same height as the six-year-old. As soon as he reached her, she opened her arms and he walked straight into her embrace. “Hey, David, how’s my favorite sound assistant doing tonight?”
The little boy pulled away and tugged something from his backpack. “I made this for you today. You can hang it in the bus to make it more pretty.” David handed her a piece of paper, and when she opened it, she almost cried. This was why making this tour as family friendly as possible was so important to them. Their crew members all had families now, and making them feel like they were family, not just mere employees, was why they stuck around.
He had drawn her a beautiful butterfly. “Ah, David, this is beautiful…. I’m going to hang it on the fridge for everyone to see.” From afar, Patricia could hear David’s dad, Eric, calling for his son. “You should go see your dad, but thank you so much for this, honey.” And just like that, the little boy went running back to his dad.
Jarrod
He watched as she talked to David, and it didn’t matter how many times he watched her interact with their crew or their family, she still blew his fucking mind away. She had the kind of beauty that made a man want things he didn’t deserve. Every time he saw her, he thought about the first night he’d met her and how she’d changed his life. The only thing he hadn’t planned for back then was for her to fight their attraction so much. She had transformed it into an art form, and no matter how hard he tried to push his way in, she seemed determined to keep him out. However, over the past couple of months, something had changed. She’d become more responsive and open, and he loved that about her, but she was still holding back a part of herself.
“Man, you have that kid wrapped around your fingers,” he yelled from the sound blocks he was leaning against.
When she heard his voice, she jumped, and he couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Oh, my God, you scared me. What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”
“Sam texted, asking me to drive you to the hotel so you could get some sleep. So here I am, your knight in shining armor.” He saw the look in her eyes, the one that said Sam was going to get a piece of her mind. He had been just as surprised as she was when Sam’s message arrived, but he would be a fool to pass up the chance to spend time alone with her.
“I can wait for the other guys. I don’t need a babysitter, Jarrod.” He hated the way she always insisted on being treated like one of the guys, because to him, she was anything but. She didn’t want them to treat her any differently, but right now, all he saw on her face were signs of exhaustion.
With one long stride, he stood inches away from her. “You may not need a babysitter, but judging by the dark circles under your eyes, you need to sleep. So I’m taking you straight to the hotel.” When she hesitated, he added, “Plus, I really don’t feel like getting the third degree from Sam for not doing as he asked. So if you won’t do it for you, please do it for me. The man scares me.”
Heat radiated through his chest when she didn’t argue, and he didn’t hold back his smile. He had to admit, using the Sam card might have been pushing his luck, but the man was her best friend, and Jarrod wasn’t against using any weapon at his disposal.
The car ride back to the hotel was made up of small talk about the show, the children’s hospital visit that was coming up in a few days, and chatting with their driver for the night. She kept their conversation about work, which he knew was something she did when she felt vulnerable. “Did Derek fill you in about the changes in the schedule for next week?”
“Yeah, he did. You know, you don’t have to work yourself into the ground, Trish. And don’t start with how you’re not and all that crap, because I’ve got eyes that work perfectly fine. You look like you haven't slept in days,” he told her, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.
He hated seeing her so damn tired all the time, while doing something he knew she didn’t love anymore. It was as clear to him as the sun in the sky that she didn’t love her job as much as she used to, but something was making her hold back from telling the band—more specifically, him—about it, and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. They would support her, no matter what, she had to know that.
“The beginning of a new tour is always crazy, you know that. It’s going to calm down in the next couple of days, and I’ll be able to get more sleep.” He laughed because they both knew that was a lie.
“Trish, it never calms down. When it’s not interviews, it’s shows and travel time. When was the last time you went out on a date?” He realized it was a selfish thing to ask, but he didn’t care. This thing between them was getting out of control, and it was becoming harder and harder not to act on it. Finding reasons not to take what he wanted had been easy five years ago, but justifying staying away from her wasn’t as easy as it used to be.
“I date…,” she whispered, looking at him from the corner of her eye. When he stared back with a look that said, ‘Don’t bullshit me,’ he watched her swallow her pride. “Okay, so maybe I don’t actually date. It’s not like men are falling at my door here, Jar.”
“Maybe one would if you would give it a shot,” was all he said. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Round one was definitely his tonight.
The rest of the ride to the hotel was quiet. When they got to her room, she took out her key and opened the door. Before she got the chance to kick him out, he leaned against the doorframe, one foot inside her room.
“Okay, you brought me back to the hotel, saving yourself from Sam’s wrath. Now you can go see what the bar has to offer in terms of female diversity tonight.”
He didn’t give her a chance to stop him; he pushed his way inside, smiling from ear to ear. “Nah, I’m good right
here. Plus, Sam said you hadn’t slept since the tour started, so I’m going to stay right here until you’re sound asleep.” And there it was, the look that gave her away every time, the one that said being alone with him was a test on her control and restraint.
He watched her walk to the chair by the window, his eyes glued to her swaying, tempting hips. When she took off her jacket, a wave of lust hit him, making it fucking hard to breathe. “Damn.” Her entire back was on display for him, calling to him like a siren’s song.
As soon as the word was out of his mouth, she spun around to look at him “What? What is it?” she asked, tilting her head to the side and narrowing her eyes. He walked toward her, took her hand in his, and turned her around so that she faced the window.
“Thank God you had a jacket on, or else I would have been late for the show.” She tried to turn, but he held her in place. He took his time letting his hands roam over her bare back. God, she had the softest skin he’d ever felt. He could spend the rest of his life touching her and he would die a happy man.
“It’s just a shirt, Jarrod, not a Victoria’s Secret runway show,” she whispered.
“This shirt has got to be one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen you in. You’re so damn sexy, and you don’t even seem to know it.” And that pissed him off. Her body made him want to do things he shouldn’t, but he was just a man, and there was only so much temptation a man could resist.
“Okay, enough, Romeo,” she said, pulling away from his grip. “Seriously, you are not staying here until I fall asleep. I'm not a child,” she argued, walking to the bathroom.
Still facing the window, he went in for the kill. The one good thing about waiting for five years for her was that he knew exactly what made her tick. “Afraid to be alone with me?”
He heard her laugh from the bathroom. “You wish, Banks, you wish.” She could deny it until her last breath, but he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
When she came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, Jarrod thought his heart might jump out of his chest. She wore his old Alabama T-shirt that he had given her years ago. He kept quiet, aware she’d would be uncomfortable if he spoke; but that didn’t stop him from admiring the vision standing in front of him.
Patricia
She had never felt more stupid in her entire life. Of all the things to sleep in, the only thing that wasn’t on the bus was his old Alabama T-shirt. When she saw him lying on the bed, the silliness of what she was wearing quickly morphed into lust. He had taken his shoes and socks off, as well as his shirt. And boy, it was a sight she would never tire of seeing.
“What are you doing half-naked on my bed?” she asked him, wrapping her hands around herself, hoping it would somehow cover her body. She knew how ridiculous she was being, but the man was pure perfection, and, well, she had curves.
“I’m tired, you’re tired…. After all of these years, I know for a fact you sleep better when there’s someone in bed with you, sharing a bus with you has taught me a few things, so I’m volunteering.” He had his hands behind his head, leaning against the pillows, and she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Damn him and his stubborn attitude.
“Oh no, hell no! Jarrod, get up, get dressed, and go sleep in your room. I am not sleeping with you.” There was no way she could handle sleeping in the same bed as him.
He sat up on the bed and looked at her from head to toe. She felt his eyes on every inch of her skin, slowly setting her body on fire. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself. Trish, you need to sleep. I need to do the same. What’s the problem?”
“Where do you want me to start?” she said, moving to the side of the bed, feeling the body heat rolling off him in waves.
She was so tired that she considered not arguing with him anymore. She knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Five years of dealing with the man told her that once he had his mind set on something, there was no changing it.
“You know that no matter what you say, I’m not leaving this bed. So why don’t you quit thinking I’m going to take advantage of you, climb into bed, and get some sleep.” The hint of laughter in his voice made her weak in the knees. Silent and defeated, she climbed into bed and slipped under the covers. Before she could turn on her side away from him and put some much needed distance between the two of them, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her flush against him. With her head on his chest, she felt his heartbeat against her cheek. She fought hard to remember why staying away from him was for the best.
“Don’t try anything, Banks,” she whispered against his skin.
Chapter Two
4 1/2 years ago
Patricia
Patricia woke up to the smell of coffee, and more importantly, she was fully rested. She didn’t know what time it was and, if she were being honest, she didn’t care. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so refreshed. She climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she washed all traces of makeup from her face and made her way to the kitchen.
When she walked in, she almost stopped breathing at the sight that greeted her. Jarrod was cooking breakfast wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, which were resting low on his hips. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the way the muscles in his back moved every time he reached for something. The man had a body that was made for a woman’s pleasure, she couldn’t deny that. As if he sensed her staring at him, he turned around and gave her a wink. When his eyes travelled down her body, she felt underdressed in nothing but his shirt, but now wasn’t the time to let her insecurities get the best of her.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he told her as he handed her a cup of coffee, her drug of choice. It was the one thing she couldn’t live without—okay, make that the second thing, if you considered Jarrod himself.
“Good morning. What time is it?” she asked before taking a sip of coffee, which, of course, was brewed to perfection.
“It’s a little past eleven. Okay, so we have: pancakes, bacon—and, yes, it’s turkey bacon, God help me—fresh fruit, and orange juice,” he said, putting everything on the breakfast counter on display in front of her.
She picked up a strawberry before turning to him. “Okay, I’m going to have breakfast here every day. I didn’t know you could cook.” There was nothing the man standing in front of her couldn’t do. It was unsettling to think that some other woman would get this treatment the next time they were home. That stung, even though she had no right to claim this privilege.
“My mom figured we could use some skills to impress women. So, impressed yet?” She knew he was teasing her, and she loved every second of it. She wasn’t about to tell him that anything he did impressed her, so she took a bite out of one of the pancakes and moaned softly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“These are so good,” she said blissfully, shoving another piece into her mouth. “Now that I know you can make these, I’m going to ask for these every morning.” The man could seriously cook; she would have to remember that and make use of it any chance she got.
“Anytime, babe, just ask.” Jarrod sole focus was on her, his gaze intense; it felt as if he was seeing right through her. She tore her eyes away from him because if he saw what she was hiding, if he caught a glimpse of her feelings for him, nothing would ever be the same, and that just couldn’t happen.
Present Day
Patricia
She woke up the next morning sprawled across a warm, toned body, her head on a solid chest with an arm around her waist and their legs intertwined. For a minute, she thought she was dreaming, and then the memories of the night before hit her. With one swift movement, she was off the bed. Frozen, she stood and watched him as he slept. How was this a good idea? The barriers around her heart crumbled as he stirred and his eyes opened, and that scared her to death. This was exactly what she had been avoiding for the past five years.
“Good morning.” Jarrod’s voice sent shivers racing through her body. Primal hunger
darkened his eyes, and in that moment, she realized she was standing in front of one of the sexiest men in country music with tousled hair, no makeup, and wearing an old T-shirt, which didn’t hide much. She couldn’t help but think back to that morning years ago when he gave her the shirt. After a long night in the studio, she had fallen asleep on the sofa and he had tucked her into bed in his spare bedroom with one of his old tees. In the morning, she hadn’t been able to make herself give it back. Since then, every time she felt lonely or sad, she wore it.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever woken up with such a beautiful woman. I might get used to waking up with you, Miss Monroe.” She wanted to believe him, God, she wanted to believe him with everything she had, but images of him and the multiple women he’d dated over the years flashed in front of her eyes, reminding her that she was nothing like them.
She started laughing and she couldn’t get herself to stop. “Until a Victoria's Secret model comes along maybe.” She knew it was a low blow, but she needed some emotional distance from him. He threaten to tear down all of her resistance, and she knew if he succeeded, there would be no going back. The only thing that scared her more than taking this chance with him was the possibility of a broken heart she would never recover from.
“Glad to see you think so highly of me there, Trish.” The hurt on his face made her ache. Even if he had his share of women, supermodels or not, she knew he never cheated, never led women on, and she admired that about him. He might have been with a lot of women, but he always made sure they knew exactly what to expect going in, and not once did he ever make any of them feel cheap or small.
She climbed back into the bed and kissed him on the cheek, her body on autopilot. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Heart of the Music (Saints & Sinners #1) Page 2