Stuck With a Rock Star

by Amelie Bloom

  When Hugo and I had decided to move the wedding back from August to September to give us some time after the tour ended, I had been devastated, but Hugo seemed to be taking it all in his stride.

  I’d have been more hurt by his apparent lack of disappointment, but nothing much seemed to get Hugo excited one way or the other. I was used to it.

  Hugo and I had been together for nine years, ever since our junior year in high school, so we were well past the excitement stage.

  “I don’t want anyone from the outside,” Jax insisted. “No one is as good as you.”

  I may have snorted at that. “I’m the least intimidating person on your team.”

  “Looks are deceiving.”

  I suspected Jax was just trying to butter me up, but I couldn’t suppress a pleased smile. I was so used to being underestimated that it was nice when someone acknowledged my capability.

  Unlike the rest of Jax’s security team, I was not a big beefy male. I’m barely five feet six inches, and what my grandmother likes to describe as “willowy.”

  Gangly is more like it, but I’m considerably more dangerous than I look. I don’t have a red belt in taekwondo for nothing, and those six years of Krav Maga lessons were not a waste of time.

  I didn’t get a spot on the security detail because of Hugo, either. I applied behind Hugo’s back, one of the few times I’d gone against his express wishes.

  Hugo was livid when he found out I’d been hired without consulting him, not that he could let on to anyone else why he was so against adding me to his team.

  I was hired because Jax insisted on it. Jax always interviewed his bodyguards personally.

  During the interview, Jax seemed a little unsure of my abilities, so I offered to incapacitate him in thirty seconds or less. I did it in two, although Jax is a foot taller than I am and forty pounds heavier.

  I may have left a few bruises on my future employer in my enthusiasm to demonstrate my competence, but so far, he hadn’t seemed to have held it against me.

  Jax had been the best employer I’d ever had. He was weird and moody, but he was also incredibly thoughtful and genuinely tried to keep everyone on his team happy.

  That’s why it surprised me how much pressure he was putting on me to do something I clearly would rather not. Jax never hesitated to flatter and cajole, but he had always drawn the line at bullying his staff.

  “I already ran this by Hugo yesterday,” Jax said, searching my face to gauge my reaction.

  Yeah, Jax definitely knew something was up between Hugo and me.

  “Hugo thought sending you to Tahoe with me was a terrific idea,” Jax continued.

  I wondered why I hadn’t heard this straight from Hugo already. I hadn’t talked to him in a couple of days, just a few texts back and forth. Hugo had been busy. I wasn’t clear precisely what he’d been so busy doing, though, and I was feeling a little edgy and irritable as a result.

  What with the Blue Lotus Boys world tour coming up, everyone wanted time off before heading off for thirty grueling days on the road. Hugo was no exception. He’d been off the schedule for the last couple of days, but he hadn’t spent those days with me.

  I was none too pleased that Hugo apparently thought it was “a terrific idea” to send his fiancée off into the forest alone with the 12th sexiest man alive, according to Famous Faces Magazine.

  Not that Jax’s sexiness was in any way relevant. There had never been any hint that Jax and I had anything more than a strictly professional relationship.

  Well, except for that one drunken kiss, but I was pretty sure Jax was so inebriated, he would have kissed any available mouth.

  Jax was one of those sentimental, sloppy, overly-affectionate drunks. Half a bottle of whiskey, and he was deeply in love with the entire human race, or at least the female half of it. Three-quarters of a bottle in, and he was open to embarking on a great bromance. If Jax could have gotten an entire bottle down without passing out—which he couldn’t—I had no doubt he’d probably French a cat if it would let him.

  For my part, I’d let Jax kiss me because I had just broken up with Hugo for the eighth time in as many years and was stewing in a toxic brew of hurt and indignation.

  Another contributing factor to my lapse of discretion was that I’d just announced that I was quitting, effective immediately. I sincerely believed that after that farewell drink, I’d never see Jax again. If I were completely honest with myself, the thought of never seeing him again had made me more than a little sad.

  If the 12th sexiest man alive wants to kiss you, and there are no ethical obstacles to said kiss, you let him. I did it so that I could say I had the experience, not that I’d gone around bragging about it. Any heterosexual woman would have done the same, especially after a man like Jax had been murmuring sweet nothings in her ear for the last forty minutes.

  I’d not done anything wrong, and neither had Jax, but now it was very much in everyone’s best interest to bury the memory of that kiss seven months ago.

  I didn’t count that kiss as cheating. I didn’t count it as anything. I’d put that kiss right out of my mind. I was 98% sure that Jax didn’t remember much of anything that happened that night, so I’d decided to pretend to do the same.

  Three days after that drunken indiscretion, Hugo and I had reconciled, and he’d talked me into not quitting after all.

  I’d felt so guilty about kissing Jax that I’d confessed to Hugo. Hugo had laughed like it was the most hilarious thing he’d ever heard.

  “I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure Jax didn’t know who he was kissing,” Hugo had said. “I mean, a sober Jax Fitzroy would never kiss a woman like you?”

  That stung a little. I’d expected Hugo to be agitated by the incident, not amused.

  At the time, I’d told myself that I should be grateful Hugo wasn’t angry. Jealousy was a negative trait. Hugo’s attitude about the whole thing indicated a healthy level of emotional maturity.

  Still, even in the absence of jealousy, I’d have thought that Hugo might miss me if I went off to Tahoe for two weeks. As soon as I got back, Hugo would be leaving with the Blue Lotus Boys on tour.

  If I went to Tahoe, we’d go at least six weeks apart. Realistically, though, even if I stayed in LA until the tour started, Hugo and I would probably not see that much of each other. We had apartments in the same building, but lately, we’d been like ships passing in the night.

  I’d fantasized that Hugo might move into my apartment now that we were engaged, but when I suggested it, he had shot me down.

  It would have been fun to spend the next two weeks planning the wedding with Hugo. Instead, it looked increasingly likely I was going to be spending the next two weeks stuck in a remote mountain cabin with a borderline-needy, motormouth rock star who expected to be congratulated on his resource and ingenuity when he succeeded in making a sandwich without assistance.

  “Hugo really thought sending me to Tahoe was a terrific idea?” I persisted. “Is that what he actually said?”

  Chapter Five

  I was having a hard time believing Jax when he claimed that Hugo thought sending me to Tahoe for two weeks was a terrific idea, but although he had been known to exaggerate, I’d never known Jax to outright lie.

  “Those were Hugo’s exact words,” he told me. “’ I think taking Abby with you is a terrific idea.’ That’s what he said.”

  “You swear you’re telling the truth.”

  “I swear.” Jax didn’t look at me as he spoke, but I didn’t think it was because he was lying to me. His face shifted from anxious to sad as he said it like he pitied me or something.

  Jax finally noticed that his finger was bleeding where he’d picked too long at the cuticle. I dug into my bag, took out a package of tissue and handed it across the table to him, then rooted around some more and brought out a band-aid, and slid it over.

  “See,” said Jax, pointing to the band-aid, “this is what I’m talking about. This is why you’re the best. You notice
things.”

  “I don’t carry band-aids around just for you.”

  That wasn’t true. I hadn’t carried band-aids around until I started working for Jax. I had also never before carried Ibuprofen (Jax got headaches when he was too hot, or too cold, or hadn’t eaten recently). There was also a tin of Jax’s favorite hot mints in the small backpack I never left home without even though I hated hot mints.

  I tried to think of what I carried with me because Hugo might need it. Nothing. I told myself that was just because Hugo was so low maintenance, that plus we rarely went out anywhere together these days unless we were on the job.

  Hugo insisted that now was the time to put our heads down, work hard, and save for our future.

  I shook off a rosy-tinted daydream of Hugo and I going house shopping together to return to the task at hand: convincing Jax Fitzroy that he could get along just fine without me.

  “We aren’t talking about band-aids,” I told Jax. “We’re talking about what Hugo intends to do about staffing allocations for the next two weeks.”

  “Well, I’m still talking about band-aids.”

  “Alright, what about them?”

  “That may be my favorite thing about you.”

  “Band-aids?”

  “That’s why I adore you. You see me as I am. You know all my weaknesses. Do you have any idea how rare a soul you are?”

  Jax went very still and looked me in the eye so long I looked away first.

  He adored me? I was a rare soul?

  “Stop trying to flatter me,” I said. “You think you can sweet-talk your way into anything.”

  “It’s not sweet talk. I meant every word.”

  “Well, it’s not working. I’m immune.”

  “You’ve gone pink,” said Jax.

  “I have not.” I reached up to feel my cheeks. I did feel a bit warm.

  “Maybe I have a fever,” I said. “Maybe I’m coming down with the flu. I wouldn’t advise taking that kind of risk with your delicate health.”

  “You’re not flushed because you have a fever.”

  Jax looked immensely pleased with himself. I don’t know why the thought that he might have gotten me twitterpated (my grandmother’s word, not mine) had him looking like the cat who ate the canary (also Gran’s).

  I decided that Jax was so pleased with himself because I was one of the few women in his orbit who was consistently impervious to his charms. Even Lilith had been known to simper when Jax turned on his 100-watt smile and started to wheedle.

  “You really are full of yourself,” I said. “Just because you’ve grown accustomed to—”

  He didn’t let me finish.

  “If you come to Tahoe with me, I’ll pay you double.”

  “Double of what?”

  “Double of your regular rate: 24 hours a day, seven days a week for the duration. I won’t request it out of the security budget, and nobody else needs to know.”

  He meant Hugo didn’t need to know. I did the numbers in my head. I didn’t need the money, but it was enough to pay for an upgrade to our reception venue and a top-tier wedding dress. Hugo was balking at the number I’d budgeted for my dream dress.

  “You’re only going to wear that dress once,” Hugo had protested.

  I’d argued back.

  ”That’s my point; I only plan on wearing a wedding dress once.”

  I’d thought my argument had made perfect sense, but the brilliance of my logic had been lost on Hugo.

  “I want that promise of double pay in writing,” I told Jax.

  “Alright.”

  I was hopeful that in the next fourteen days, the LA police would catch Miss Stabby in the act of making an unambiguous threat and/or trespassing with criminal intent. I was hoping that a few nights in jail or involuntary psych hold might bring Miss Stabby to her senses. Then Jax and I could both come home, and I could quit with a clear conscience.

  “Don’t think that just because there’s just the two of us up there, that I’m going to be your maid,” I told Jax.

  “That never occurred to me.”

  “I bet it didn’t. In your world, food magically appears at mealtimes, and toilets scrub themselves.”

  “I promise not to ask you to scrub any toilets.”

  “I’ll cook,” I grudgingly conceded, “but you have to clean.”

  “No problem.”

  Jax can barely butter his own toast, so asking him to do the cooking was pointless. I wasn’t much more optimistic about his cleaning abilities. He hadn’t taken care of his own space for at least a decade, and before that, he lived with his mother.

  Nevertheless, I wasn’t about to become his maid/housekeeper. I could survive in squalor if it came to it, just to maintain my pride.

  ”I also require regular intervals of peace and quiet,” I said.

  “My uncle’s cabin is ten miles up the end of a gravel Forest Service road,” Jax said. “There’s nothing but peace and quiet up there.”

  “Not with you around, there won’t be. If you’re awake, you’re talking.”

  “Fine. I’ll try to be sensitive. You can tell me to shut up, and I promise not to sulk.”

  “I have one last condition,” I said.

  “So many? Do I get any?”

  “Do you want any?”

  “Not really. I’m just happy you’re coming with me.”

  Jax did look happy. His agitation had evaporated. I decided to wait until another time to tell him that accompanying him to Tahoe was my last assignment.

  I realized I’d fallen silent when Jax asked, “So what is your final condition?”

  “No drinking,” I said.

  “Not even wine with dinner?”

  “No wine with dinner.”

  “Not even beer.”

  “Not even a single beer.”

  “And why is that?” Jax asked.

  I wanted it as insurance against any more kissing, but I could hardly say that.

  “Drinking is bad for your health.”

  “Says who?”

  “It’s common knowledge.”

  “Really? I could swear you were more worried about losing control.”

  Did he remember that drunken kiss? I desperately hoped not.

  “Losing control of what?” I demanded. That was a mistake.

  “Your baser impulses,” said Jax.

  “I maintain full control of my baser impulses at all times.”

  I was probably pink before, but now I was certain I was closer to the color of a ripe tomato.

  “I can recall one occasion when you didn’t maintain full control of your baser impulses,” said Jax. “In fact—”

  “Sometimes, it’s kinder not to bring up the mistakes of others.”

  Jax couldn’t have looked more hurt if I’d slapped him in the face.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Were you seeing someone then? Is that why you think it was a mistake?”

  I hadn’t been seeing anyone then, not technically.

  “It’s complicated,” I said.

  “Then or now?”

  “Then.”

  “What about now?”

  It was still complicated.

  “I’m most certainly seeing someone now,” I said. “I’m engaged to a wonderful man.”

  Jax didn’t look as surprised as I’d expected. His gaze traveled down to the finger where a ring should be, and he raised one eyebrow.

  “It’s in the wash,” I said.

  Jax started to laugh, and it was like all the oxygen that had been sucked from my lungs came back with a rush.

  I expected Jax to ask who the lucky man was, but he didn’t; instead, he said, “Well, you can tell your fiancé not to worry about me making any moves on you.”

  Not to worry. Hugo didn’t think Jax would take a second look at me. I was beginning to think Hugo didn’t have a clue.

  “Why is it that my fiancé shouldn’t worry?” I asked.

  “I ne
ver kiss engaged ladies. At least not when I’m sober.”

  Chapter Six

  Less than twenty-four hours later I was loading a duffle bag of clothes and a banana box stuffed with Bride magazines into the back of the Jeep Lilith had leased for us to take up the rough gravel road which was the only way out to the cabin I’d somehow gotten myself roped into spending at least the next two weeks holed up in.

  I checked the calendar on my phone just to be sure there wasn’t anything I’d failed to take care of before I headed out into the wilderness.

  There was a reminder to buy a gift for a baby shower I’d be missing. Bettina, Jax’s stylist, was due in three weeks. I’d miss the shower, so I sent her a virtual gift card while I waited for Jax to come out of the house.

  I’d checked my phone about a hundred times since I’d woken up, hoping to see a reply from Hugo.

  The night before, since I was about to head off into the wilderness for weeks, I’d suggested that we spend our last night together at my place, but Hugo had weaseled out of it.

  He had to go see his mother in Sacramento.

  “Couldn’t that wait until tomorrow?” I’d asked. “We aren’t going to see each other for who knows how long. About the time I get back, you’ll be leaving for a month.”

  Apparently, visiting his mother couldn’t wait, something about a broken pipe and a flood in her basement.

  “I’ll text you tomorrow,” Hugo had promised.

  But he hadn’t texted.

  After I’d loaded my things into the Jeep, I dialed Hugo’s number. We were supposed to be leaving in five minutes, but Jax was never ready on time.

  The phone rang several times, and when Hugo picked up, he sounded stressed.

  “How did things go at your mother’s?” I asked. “Did you get the broken pipe fixed?”

  “Abby—” Hugo said. There was a long pause.

  Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  “Is your mother alright?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “Did you get hurt?”

  There was a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach

  “Are you by yourself?” Hugo asked.