by Quinn, Cari
“Getting married because she’s got the bun in the oven, I’m guessing.” Molly’s smirk was back in full force as she sat on the back of the loveseat and propped her bare feet on the cushions. Evidently she and her former “boyfriend” didn’t like actually sitting on the parts of furniture actually intended for that purpose.
“No, getting married because we love each other and we want to be together.”
“You already are together.” She used the back of the loveseat like a slide and bounced onto the cushions, a rather impressive feat considering how tall she was. “Unless you’re trying to lock her down because of that whole love triangle business.”
“So you’ve heard of that but you hadn’t heard the gossip about us being engaged or her being pregnant. You have selective hearing.”
“I think you do too. How do you even know that kid’s yours?”
He didn’t let the jab take root, because it was baseless and he knew it. “How do I know you’re even really her sister?”
Molly pursed her lips in an expression surprisingly similar to Jazz’s. It was the first time he’d seen any sort of resemblance between them, and the glimpse startled him into sitting back in the chair while she rose to rifle through a file cabinet that was being used for an end table. She dug out a sheaf of papers and strode over to him, thrusting one out. “That’s my birth certificate. Mama left it with the other papers when she took off.”
Rather than looking at the paper, he looked at her instead. “How long have you been on your own?”
Immediately the defensiveness snapped back into place. “Why does it matter?”
He sat back in the chair and glanced out the curtainless window. Bars crisscrossed across it, blocking out a lot of the light. “My family took in foster kids from the time I was small. I saw a lot of them come and go. I heard a lot of stories.”
She gripped her elbows and looked anywhere but at him. “Hearing isn’t the same as living it.”
“No. You’re right. But I lived it with Jazz. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for those years she spent afraid and alone. You deserve that too.”
He didn’t expect her bitter laughter or the single tear that tracked down her cheek. She swiped it away angrily. “Not everyone gets a fairy tale like she has. Most kids don’t hook up with some rich dude in their foster family. They don’t join bands and achieve what she has already.”
“That should give you hope.”
“Hope? What the fuck is that?” She kicked at the wicker basket of magazines and assorted crap and toppled it on its side. “That’s what they sell on your side of town, not mine.”
“If you think she won’t want you on our side of town, you’re nuts.”
Her chin came up. “Oh really? She seemed pretty dismissive when she walked out the door. Not that hard to push her away, just like someone else I used to know.”
“Why would you write to someone, claim you want to meet, then try to push her away?” He stared at the paper in his hand without seeing the print. “You intended to take advantage of her,” he said quietly. “What made you change your mind?” When she didn’t respond, he took a guess. “Because she’s pregnant?”
Her face softened, answering the question for him. He nodded. “So the girl without hope still has a heart.”
“Fuck you. You don’t know a thing about me.”
“I know she’s been through as much as you, and no one would love you more, if you only let her. You loved her once. She told me you called her Mine.”
Molly let out another of those rasping laughs that sounded as if they were torn from her throat. “I loved my mother too. What’d that get me?”
“The same thing it got her. She did it anyway.”
“We aren’t the same. Not even close.” She snapped a hairband off her wrist and tied up her curls with a few jerky flicks of her fingers. “You don’t see me setting up house with a druggie either.”
The dig hit its mark, as intended. Mainly because any reminder of how far he’d let himself sink—and all that he’d almost lost—always hollowed him out. “I’m clean now.”
“Sure you are.”
“I’d be happy to take a drug test.” He sniffed. The scent of marijuana still stung the air. “How about you, kiddo?”
“I’m not a kiddo. And what’s wrong with a little pot? It’s no worse than alcohol.”
“Right. I told myself that too about pot. Then about coke. Then I found myself in rehab.”
“That’s on you. Some of us have better control of ourselves.”
“Some of us also have people we want to be better for. Do you have one of those too?” She didn’t speak. “No? Didn’t think so. I did. She’s the reason I’m sitting here right now with nothing in my veins but blood. She’s the reason I came here even though I didn’t want to. Even though I suspected you were going to use her kind heart against her. Apples and trees, you know?”
“Your perfect angel is from the same fucking tree.”
“Yeah, she is. Maybe you could try remembering that the next time you think you can use her to make a few quick bucks.” He leaned forward. “I’m curious. How’d you intend to do it? Cozy up to her then rob her blind someday when she let her guard down? Maybe sell stories about her private life to the tabloids?”
“You’re goddamn suspicious for someone who’s sucked on a silver spoon since birth.”
“The only spoon I’m sucking nowadays is my own. Can you say the same?” He gestured around the apartment. “Did you get this on your own or did you do whatever necessary to get the money you needed?”
She glared at him out of slitted eyes. “How dare you.”
“Oh, I dare. And I don’t judge.” He lifted his hands. “But your sister isn’t going to be your next meal ticket, you can bet your ass on that.” He waited a beat until she stopped pacing long enough to hear him. “Me, on the other hand…”
Her jaw locked. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’ll pay for what I want.”
“Sure, you will. That’s how guys you like operate. Everything’s about cash.”
“Isn’t it?”
“You sure your precious wifey would be onboard with these tactics of yours?” She stopped her restless movements and clamped her arms over her chest. “I’m not so sure.”
“You have no idea what she would or wouldn’t be onboard with until you get to know her. But hey, your choice. I’m not about to plead your case. You want the truth?”
She spared him a brief look. “Your version, you mean?”
“Yeah. You showing up now is damn inconvenient for me. See, we’ve gone through a hell of a lot of shit to get to this place. And then you write her a letter with your little sob story and she’s right back in the pit she climbed out of. I want you gone.” He lifted his wallet. “I’m willing to pay you to make you stay that way. If you come with us tonight and go to the ceremony tomorrow, I’ll make it worth your while to leave us alone for good.”
He was totally bluffing. He didn’t have that kind of money, and if he did, he wouldn’t blow it on paying off a teenager with a probably well-earned chip on her shoulder. Jazz and his kid came first, always, which meant the money he earned went to their future. Doing this was a huge gamble. It might end up being worth it or it might screw up what he had with Jazz.
As far as he could tell, he didn’t have a lot of options. If he could do something to make his girl happy, he had to try.
“You’re paying me off to leave my sister alone,” she said, clearly disbelieving. “You want me to be part of this little family day thing and then that’s it.”
“That about sums it up, yes. And you don’t have a lot of time to think about it. Either you say yes now or the deal’s off.”
“I could tell her what you tried to do. That’d tarnish the fairy tale some, wouldn’t it?”
He braced the ankle of one leg on the other, casual as could be. “You could,” he said easily. “You want
to ruin her wedding day, be my guest.”
“Why should I give a shit?” She shoved at a pile of junk on the loveseat and sat in the corner, drawing her legs up to her chest just like Jazz always did.
Curling into themselves to make themselves as small as possible.
“Why do you?” he countered softly. “Except for the fact that the baby she’s carrying is your nephew, and it seems to me like you don’t have enough family to be turning any away.”
She gritted her teeth. “You’re giving them to me for one day, then I’m exiled anyway.”
“One day’s more than you’ve had for a long time, I’m guessing. And you’ll be handsomely paid for your time.”
“Rich fucking bastard,” she said under her breath, examining her chipped black and blue nail polish. “Fine. Whatever. But my time doesn’t come cheap.”
“I’m sure.” He nearly smiled before he took advantage of her distraction to slip the birth certificate in his pocket. He’d be getting that verified before he turned over one dime to her—not that he intended to give her much. If he even had to give her anything at all.
Jazz didn’t have much time to work her magic on her sister, but he had faith that she’d pull it out like she always did. She was impossible not to love, and he was willing to bet that would hold true for Molly as well, despite how resistant she was to the idea of family.
“All I have to do is play the part of the happy sister, then I get paid and get gone.” She fixated on her feet. “Right?”
“Right. Maybe throw some rice around and pose for a picture or two with the band.”
She perked up. “The band? They’ll be there?”
“They’re supposed to be, yes.”
“Nick’s hot,” she said, her mouth curling in a knowing smile. “Guess Mine thought so too.”
“Feel free to ask her. Since, you know, she’s wearing my ring.” He rose and stuck out a hand to her. “So do we have a deal or not?”
She stared at his hand for a long moment before clasping it and giving it a lackluster pump. “Yeah. Fine. Whatever.”
“Oh, and Mol? You just slipped up and called her Mine.” He smiled as he heard footsteps on the stairs outside the door. “Better be careful or you might forget you hate her.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
His smile grew as the door swung open. “I’m betting on her,” he said, meeting Jazz’s gaze. “As I always do.”
Six
Something was afoot.
“Explain to me why she’s coming with us again?” Jazz asked as they waited in the parking lot of the gas station while Molly ran inside to get a Slurpee and “something edible.” “I expected you to herd me out of there the minute I got back from the store, and instead we’re roadtripping.”
“We’re just taking a detour to San Fran for the night.”
Jazz stared hard at the side of Gray’s face. He wasn’t making eye contact with her, and she knew him well enough to know that meant he was being shifty. Or trying to be. “I thought you had to get back to the studio.”
“Yeah, but not until day after tomorrow.” He toyed with his iPhone, shuffling through songs. “I thought we’d take a day to—hey,” he said as she closed her hand over his.
She got right in his face, nose to nose. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He gave her his most innocent look. If she wasn’t mistaken, the jerk even batted his ridiculously long lashes at her. “I don’t know what you mean, sweetie.”
“Don’t sweetie me. I know when I’m being snowed.” She slumped back in her seat and crossed her legs and arms like the pouty teenager she currently felt like.
He knew how she felt about surprises. They made her nervous under the best of circumstances. It had taken years for Christmas to cause her more excitement than anxiety. Too many years of waking up to find nothing under the tree—or worse, some salacious gift from her mama’s current boyfriend du jour—had made her dread a time of year that other kids anticipated. Regular surprises weren’t much better. In spite of trusting him wholeheartedly, she couldn’t help her natural reservations and panic at being kept in the dark. He understood that, or at least she thought he did.
So that must mean that he believed whatever he was up to was worth her momentary discomfort.
“It doesn’t snow in California, baby.”
She glared at him, but he only laughed.
“Where exactly do you plan for us to stay tonight?”
“All taken care of.”
“Mmm-hmm. Are we sharing a room with Molly? Because, hello, awkward.”
“Trust me,” he said, reaching out to cluck her chin in a way that made her hiss. He just laughed again.
Molly emerged from the gas station and climbed in the backseat, a drink in one hand and a truly awe-inspiring amount of junk food exploding out of the bag she clutched in her other. Noticing Jazz’s longing glance, she stuck her drink in the cup holder and fished around in the bag, producing a bag of Skittles. “You still like these?”
“Gimme.” Jazz snatched them out of her hand and tore into the bag with gusto. “Thank Jesus,” she said in between stuffing her mouth. “He’s been trying to starve me.”
“Sure I have. How much did they say you weighed this morning at the doctor’s again?”
Jazz stopped chowing down long enough to whack his arm. “Shut up. I don’t hear you complaining about my boobs.”
“God himself wouldn’t complain about your boobs.”
Molly flopped back in the seat and sucked on her drink. “Seriously, you two are gross.”
“You can talk. You answered your door in just a bra.”
“But it was a classy bra.”
“Sure it was.” Jazz set her Skittles on the dashboard. “Christ, now I have to pee. Be right back.”
The last thing she heard as she climbed out of the car was Molly. “Pregnancy is totally lame.”
Rather than annoying her, it made her grin as she jogged into the gas station and aimed for the bathroom.
The bathroom itself killed her grin right quick, but she made do. She was at the sink washing her hands when her phone rang. After drying off quickly, she tugged it out and smiled at the readout. “Hey you,” she said to Harper.
“Hiya. You sound happy.”
“I am. Very.” She wasn’t even sure why. Her nerves about Gray’s odd behavior created a low hum under her skin, and she definitely wasn’t sure what to make of the whole Molly situation, but for this very moment, she had a family. Her best friend on the phone, a sister, an almost-husband, a baby on the way. She’d never had this much before.
“Oh thank God.” Harper let out a long sigh. “It was killing me keeping it in, but I didn’t know if he’d tell you right before or what. I figured he’d cave, because who keeps that kind of secret until right before the ceremony?”
Jazz frowned at her reflection in the water-spotted mirror. “What are you talking about?”
Harper didn’t speak.
“Hello?”
“Harper is unavailable right now. Call back never,” Harper said in a small voice.
Jazz fought a grin. “Harp, you better start talking or I’m going to kick your ass.”
“You can’t. I’m pregnant,” she said after a moment. “You’re pregnant.”
“I so can kick your ass, pregnant or not. I’m little but I’m mighty.” As Harper’s earlier words finally sank in, she gasped. “Ceremony? Did you say ceremony?”
“No. I absolutely did not.” A loud hissing noise filled the line. “Wow, did you hear that? Must be interference.” More hissing that sounded suspiciously like someone blowing air. “Sorry, can’t hear you! Gotta go.”
“Harper McCoy, if you hang up this phone, we’re no longer best friends.”
The hissing stopped. “Liar.”
“I so am.” Jazz eased a hip up on the sink, then remembered she was in a gas station bathroom and hopped back off. Ick. “Okay, spill. I won’t tell you told me. Promise.”
“No, you aren’t. You’re enhancing the surprise because I fuck—frigging hate surprises and he freaking knows it.”
“That’s why he’s trying to give you a good one and I just screwed it up.”
“Well, finish it off. What’s going on, dammit?” Jazz demanded.
“Oh fine. I guess there is a sister code. But if you so much as hint that I told you…”
“I would never.” Jazz crossed her heart even though there was no one there to witness it. Someone pounded on the bathroom door and she turned the phone against her shoulder. “Just one sec. Sorry.” She pressed the phone back to her ear. “Hurry up. I’m in a gas station bathroom.”
“Okay, okay, but this is under extreme duress I’m divulging this information.”
“Noted. Come on already.”
“Gray’s planning a big…baby-blessing ceremony in San Fran for you tomorrow. Yes, that’s it. It’s a big thing now, to bless mother-to-be’s bellies. I think he saw it on the Today show. Kind of woo-woo, but hey, you know, whatever flips your crank.”
Jazz narrowed her eyes. “You are so full of crap I can smell you from here.”
“It’s not me you can smell,” Harp said, making her laugh in spite of herself. “Oh, look at that. The big guy’s ready to go. We have to buy—uh, I have to buy a new dress for tomorrow’s baby-blessing.”
The puzzle pieces were starting to fit together. Jazz swallowed hard and gripped her phone. “You’re coming too?”
“Of course I am. The whole band will be there. For all baby blessings, it’s important to have someone you trust at your side to be your witness. In your case, you’re getting a bunch of witnesses.”
“Oh God. I can’t breathe. I need to sit down.”
“No, you don’t. You need to walk out of the bathroom, head straight for the snack aisle and buy yourself a package of ceremonial cupcakes. The kind with filling that oozes out.”
“Okay. Going.” Jazz nodded and exited the bathroom, waving in apology at the older lady who waited outside. Ceremonial cupcakes sounded good. So what if she had Skittles in the car? She’d been so good lately, and oh my Lord, she was pretty sure she was getting married tomorrow and she needed a goddamn cupcake.