Christmas With the Best Man

by Ari Thatcher

  Jasmine was staring at the single bed against one wall. “Uh-uh. No how, no way.”

  “Fine with me, you can sleep on the floor. You’ve got more padding than I do, anyway.”

  “Thanks, loads.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Curves. You know. If I said you had no padding you’d still be insulted. Hell, take the bed. I don’t care.”

  With the smirky grin of a girlfriend who’d won an argument, she said, “Cool.” She threw her bags on the bed.

  He scratched his arm. Couple. Room. Girlfriend. He was getting hives from all this talk. Just because Jasmine’s best friend married the lead singer in the band, she’d better not get any ideas for herself. He didn’t do relationships, much less marriage.

  Chapter Two

  After changing into dry clothes, Jasmine and Joey went back to the pub for dinner. Her heavy coat was damp clear through on the shoulders, so she bundled in layers and wore her hoodie to keep her hair from getting any wetter.

  With no overhang around the side of the building, they were soaked by the time they reached the store awnings in front. “Remind me why we didn’t bring umbrellas.”

  “I don’t even own an umbrella.” Joey tugged the brim of his hat down.

  “Maybe I should steal one of your hats.”

  “Maybe I’d let you wear one if you asked nicely.”

  Talking with him was like talking with her younger brother. Snappy retorts, each one trying to best the other. She would go nuts spending days alone with him. “Can we make a pact?”

  Shoving his hands deeper into his pocket, Joey said, “Depends. What’s up?”

  “Can we agree not to argue until we’re safely back in the states?”

  “Who says we argue? You might be arguing, but I’m not.”

  Jasmine gave him a sidelong glance.

  He grinned. “Gotcha. Yeah, I’ll try to stop with the snarky comebacks. No guarantees, though.”

  Sighing, she said, “I guess if you stopped completely, I’d wonder who the stranger was I shared a room with. Speaking of which, I hope you don’t snore.”

  “Did I keep you awake during the flight over here?”

  He had a point. She let the question hang in the air.

  The pub felt even warmer than when they’d been there half an hour ago. It was heavenly. More locals had arrived, which meant more chatter and laughter. Jasmine found a table instead of sitting on a stool.

  “I’ll go order.” Joey walked away.

  By agreement, they’d all taken turns paying for meals and drinks, to make it easier than doing the math. Kenzi had offered to pay Jasmine’s way, but that would’ve made her feel like a fangirl, a hanger-on. She’d insisted on taking her share of the bills.

  Joey returned with a pair of ales and set one in front of her. She sipped hers. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to warm ale.”

  “It’s not warm. It’s cooler than room temperature.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. So much for not arguing.

  “Sorry,” Joey said, setting down his glass. “Technically that wasn’t an argument. It was a correction of fact.”

  “I forget you share lyric writing duties with Chaz. You have a way of twisting words to your favor.”

  “That’s not it at all. I’m always right, no twisting needed.”

  Laughing, Jasmine shook her head. Right or not, he always got the last word.

  They made small talk while they ate, then sat sipping ale. Jasmine was definitely in no hurry to go back to their room. No cell service, no TV, and she hadn’t noticed any books or games or even a deck of cards to keep them from dying of boredom. She could only read on her phone for so many hours a day.

  The piped-in music ranged from typical Irish music to modern pop, adding to the lighthearted feel of the pub. A few young people danced in the clear space in front of the fire. One tall, blond young man came to their table and spoke to Joey. “Do ya mind if I dance with your girl?”

  Jasmine laughed, her sinuses burning when the ale nearly came out her nose.

  Joey leaned back in his seat, motioning toward her. “Go for it.”

  She was surprised that he didn’t make it clear she wasn’t his girlfriend.

  “I’m Colin,” the blond said over the noise of the pub.

  “Jasmine,” she replied.

  “Where ya from?”

  “California. Oakland.”

  “What brings you to Kilmore Quay at Christmas? Do ya have family here?” He swung Jasmine around to dance.

  “Just a vacation.” She wasn’t going into the whole wedding and avoiding paparazzi deal, nor the lack of transportation to London. For one thing, she wouldn’t “out” Joey. For another, this guy wasn’t someone she’d ever see again.

  That might be kind of sad. His blue eyes held such laughter, he was probably a blast to be around. He was bound to be better company than Joey. Although Joey definitely had Colin beat on the hotness scale.

  ~*~

  Nursing his ale, Joey watched the dancers. One dancer, truthfully. He’d seen Jasmine bouncing around with Kenzi and Bree—the third member of their little circle of friends—in the front row of Marino’s concerts. Those moves were nothing compared to what she was doing with that body now. Sensually swaying her hips with fluid grace. Laughing at something her partner said, her face lighting up.

  An urge struck him to cut in. She didn’t know this guy. Joey was the only person she knew in the entire country. He needed to watch out for her. Like a big brother. Yeah, that’s it. A big brother.

  Who was he kidding? He was actually jealous.

  What a joke. She irritated the hell out of him. She spent so much time with the band, when they were in Oakland, at least. And on holidays she went wherever Kenzi went, which was wherever Chaz was.

  And wherever Chaz was, so was Joey.

  Maybe that’s what he needed to change. He had a house in Austin that he rarely saw. The band traveled half the year, and recorded for months at a time. In his spare time, he and Chaz wrote music.

  His big house felt like a cavern when he was there. Even when he brought a girl home for the weekend, the place seemed empty. He’d hired an interior designer to furnish the large house. He didn’t care what it looked like. One day he would care, when life on the road had grown old. But that was some time off.

  Jasmine’s laughter made him look her way again. The guy was twirling her under his arm. They were line dancing. Jasmine sashayed a bit harder than the other girls, shaking her ass like a mating call to the guys dancing with her.

  Unable to take any more, Joey slammed back the last of his drink. He strode to the dance floor and lined up between Jasmine and the blond. He caught the beat right away but fumbled through the first moves.

  Then he put his heart into it. He didn’t dance much while playing bass on stage, but he could move when he wanted to. When he caught Jasmine’s astonished look, one side of his mouth pulled back in a grin. Astonishment was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

  The next song slowed things down. Joey grabbed Jasmine’s arm before anyone else could. “My turn.”

  She tipped her head to one side, studying him. “Okay.” She drew the word out with incredulity.

  He drew her close, fitting her body into his. His left had rested low on her back. The soft, outward curve of her ass rested beneath his fingertips, which now itched to explore downward.

  “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you can move,” Jasmine said. Her perfume had faded, but when she leaned closer to speak to him, the scent drifted up. For some strange reason, smelling it now was so much different than when she’d passed him in the hallway that morning. Her body had absorbed it, made it a part of her. It was way too sensual for his liking.

  He hadn’t had enough to drink to use that as an excuse. But he was going to anyway. He remembered what they’d been discussing and tried to clear his head of thoughts of her body. “No, you shouldn’t. Before everyone recognized us, Chaz and I used to hit the clubs
. He’s a pretty good dancer, too.”

  “I’ve known you more than a year and I know nothing about you.”

  Anything she asked, he could demand she answer, too. This discussion could get interesting. “What do you want to know?”

  “Favorite—”

  “No, don’t do that. Favorites are boring. If you’re going to ask, ask big.”

  Jasmine’s eyes widened briefly, then her features relaxed into a cool persona. “Hmmm. What should I ask?”

  “Okay, now you’re insulting me. You actually don’t want to know anything about me.”

  “I do, but you’re so…you wear this mask when you’re in public. No, you have two masks. One is Joe Average, just any old guy on the street, which makes you invisible to everyone. Then there’s the one you put on just before going on stage. It’s a transformation. You don’t pretend to be Joey Hughes, rock star, you become him.”

  “I am him. You’re crazy.” He couldn’t admit how right she was. An energy shot through his veins as he walked toward the stage. He woke up, became alive. Not because of the lights, the fame. He could easily give that up. The screams of an audience, showing how much pleasure Marino’s music gave them, that’s what drove him. Their enjoyment fed him. Writing and playing music was the nectar of the gods.

  Damn, he was lucky.

  Leaning back, Jasmine studied his face. “Where did you go?”

  “Where am I gonna go? We’re stuck on this island until the weather clears.”

  She shook her head, a smile spreading her lips. “You know what I mean.”

  “I thought you wanted to get to know me.”

  “Telling me where your thoughts drift off to would tell me more than any question I could ask.”

  She had him there. The question was whether he wanted to let her inside his head. He had no reason not to. She wasn’t going to hit social media the minute he spoke. No one besides Chaz knew him as well as she was asking to know him.

  He might not let her fully inside, but it didn’t hurt to open the door. “I was thinking how lucky I am. I’m living the dream. My dream.”

  “Well, that’s no secret. All five of you in the band seem to have taken the stress-free flight to happiness. Sometimes I’m envious.”

  “What’s your dream?”

  Her lips pressed together and she gazed off over his shoulder. “I don’t know. It hasn’t completely taken shape. Isn’t that sad? I’m twenty-seven and don’t know what I want to do with my life.”

  The song ended and he led her back to their table. After getting another round of ale, he sat opposite her. “What do the pieces of the dream look like? What did Jasmine-ette want to be when she grew up?”

  “She wanted to be out of the house and living on her own.”

  You’d never know to look at her that she’d had an unhappy childhood. “Life at home was rough?”

  “No horror stories. No made-for-TV movies, either. Mom died young. Dad had to work two jobs to support us. Each day after school we went to the apartment next door to hang out until Dad got home.” Her expression didn’t show how she felt about growing up that way, nor did her tone of voice.

  “All right. What did the finally-on-her-own Jasmine want out of life?”

  She chewed her lower lip, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. “I could give you the correct answer of wanting to earn a living, but I know you’ll just push harder. I didn’t spend a lot of time dreaming about some special career. But after what we pulled off when Chaz’s first wedding fell through, I think I should be an event planner.”

  He considered that for a moment. The two of them, working with the original wedding planner, managed to save the day, and help Chaz save face at the same time. Yet it was all Jasmine’s ideas they followed through with. “You’d be good at that. I’m kind of surprised you aren’t one already.”

  A guy walked up to their table and grinned at Jasmine. “Will ya dance?”

  “I’d love to.” She jumped up and walked toward the fireplace with the guy on her heels.

  Out of habit, Joey pulled his phone out of his pocket. He guessed he’d have no signal, but he needed to look like he had something to do other than watching Jasmine dance with other men.

  There he went again, sounding like the jealous boyfriend.

  Two could play that game. Four young women sat at a table near the bar, so he crossed the room. Smiling at them each in turn, he asked, “Who’s free for a dance?”

  Their silence hit him like a punch in the gut. Take that, ego. He forced himself not to slink away.

  The girls glanced among themselves, and one tipped her head in his direction. Another nodded. A third stood. “I’d love to.”

  As they walked away, he heard the remaining girls burst out laughing. He hoped the joke wasn’t on him.

  They began to dance at the edge of the small circle of dancers, but somehow Joey moved closer to Jasmine. He didn’t want her to think he was trying to draw her attention, so he pushed back toward the edge.

  For a small crowd, they sure stayed in a tight bunch. Naturally, Jasmine noticed him and waved.

  He nodded, then turned his attention back to his partner. When the song ended, he walked her back to her table and asked who was next. The four kept him busy most of the evening, which worked out great. No time for him to learn more about Jasmine. The more he did, the more interesting she became.

  Joey didn’t date interesting women. Didn’t fuck them either. He spent so much time traveling, he didn’t have time for a relationship. Boring women were easier to leave when the gig ended.

  Chapter Three

  Somewhere around midnight, Jasmine led the way up the stairs to the room where she and Joey were staying. She opened the door and entered, still shivering. “Brrr. It’s almost as cold in here as outside. Let’s light the fireplace.”

  She turned on the single lamp, then hung her coat on a hook by the door.

  Joey took a box of matches off the mantel and knelt down in front of the fireplace.

  Opening her suitcase, Jasmine took out her sweats and picked up her makeup kit to take into the bathroom. The sink in there was dusty, so she turned the faucet handle to rinse it out before washing her face.

  No water came out.

  Jasmine tried the other tap, then the bathtub. Nothing. “Joey!” She opened the bathroom door.

  The kindling in the fireplace fed a growing flame. Joey rose. “What’s up?”

  “We have no water.”

  “Have you turned on the water line?”

  “I turned on the faucets. That’s how I get water.”

  He shook his head and moved past her in the doorway.

  After a moment or two fiddling around under the sink, he stood. “We have no water.”

  “Can this day get any worse?”

  “Let’s not wait and find out. If we hurry, maybe we can get back to the pub before Ned closes for the day.”

  “Grab your toothbrush,” Jasmine called as she put on her coat.

  Ned and a few customers were still inside. Jasmine and Joey went straight to the counter. She waited until Ned came down to their end, not wanting everyone to know their dilemma. “We have no water in the flat.”

  “Alice must have forgotten they’d turned it off for the winter. It’s too late to call her. Use the bathrooms here.”

  “Thanks!” She picked up her makeup kit and hurried toward the back hallway to the restrooms. Thank God she wouldn’t have to sleep with her makeup on. That is, if she had any left after being caught in the rain all day.

  Joey was sitting at the bar when she came out. “You ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  As Joey stood, Ned said, “You’ll be wanting a shower in the morning, and some breakfast, too, I imagine. Drop by my place and the missus will fry up a grand feast.” He gave them directions to his home.

  “Thanks.” Joey opened the door for Jasmine and they ran through the rain.

  The room was much warmer when they entered. Ja
smine threw her coat on the hook, calling out, “Dibs on the bathroom.”

  Joey shook his head. “You should have thought of that before we left.”

  When she glared at him, he winked. That simple muscle twitch sent tingles throughout her body. The guy knew exactly how good looking he was, and got a kick out of torturing women.

  Shutting the bathroom door behind her, she prayed he didn’t know he was torturing her. She’d die if he knew how he affected her. So much for her crush on Travis. At the moment, she couldn’t even remember what color Travis’s eyes were.

  Once she was dressed in dry clothes, she toweled her hair to squeeze out the last of the water. All that time she’d spent dancing in front of the fire, letting her hair dry, was wasted once she’d stepped outside the pub. She tossed her jeans over the towel bar so the hems of the legs could dry.

  “Your turn,” she said when she opened the door.

  He was already wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. He had the pillow propped against the wall and leaned against it. A folded blanket lay on the floor beneath him.

  Her gaze went quickly to the bed to make sure that wasn’t the only blanket, which it wasn’t. Neither of the two blankets looked thick enough to keep them warm on their own. “How long do you think the fire will last?”

  “A few hours. It’ll get pretty hot in here soon, and if we’re lucky it’ll take a while for the heat to dissipate.”

  “Did you notice any wood in the entry downstairs?”

  “Nope. This will have to last. Or, whether it lasts or not, this is all we have.”

  Jasmine yanked the covers down and climbed under, leaning back on the headboard. Then she noticed what was missing. “You stole the only pillow.”

  He shrugged. “You get the mattress, I get the pillow.”

  Damn. She couldn’t argue with that. She drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knee. “I’m bored.”

  “So go to sleep.”

  “I can’t. My phone’s on the charger way over there, I don’t have a book, or TV…”

  He scooted on his makeshift bed and lay down with his hands behind his head. “Isn’t there anything else you do to unwind before bed?”