Jace, page 10
After the concert, after he’d done her and her song proud, he’d ask her what was on her mind.
After five minutes of staring, Jace’s nerves were strung tight. “What?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.” Her curls shook, one falling across her temple to rest against her cheek.
Travis snorted but scurried away when she shot him a lethal glare.
“I get that I’m not your first choice.” He kept his voice low, aware that there were others in the room. “Hell, I probably wasn’t on your top fifty list.”
Her chin thrust slightly, defiant, and her brows rose, but she didn’t argue with him.
“But I promise you I won’t let you down, Krystal.” The urge to smooth that curl had his fingers itching. “Old-fashioned or not, I’m a man of my word.”
“If anyone else had said that, I’d be laughing.” The corner of her mouth curved. “Not that it wasn’t all kinds of corny—because it was—but for reasons beyond understanding, I sort of believe you.”
“Sort of?” He pushed.
Her brows rose higher, if that was possible.
“How do you sort of believe something?” He couldn’t stop looking at that curl. “You either do or you don’t.” Those red lips, full-on smiling at him now.
“Why does it matter?” Those green eyes traveled over his face, still searching.
That was the question. And there were a whole lot of possible answers. He went with the easy ones. “I admire and respect you and your family, always have. I know you’re taking a chance on me—”
“A big chance.” She nodded.
He smiled. “Yes, you’re taking a big chance on me—”
“Risk. I get the feeling, with you…maybe risk is a better word?” Her green eyes locked with his, her smile going hard.
They weren’t talking about music anymore. “Krystal…”
She stepped back, blinking, her gaze falling from his. “You might want to go warm up some. The show will be starting soon.”
He stood rooted to the spot, while she walked out of the room, her black suede fringes swaying around her thighs with every step.
“Not a good idea,” Luke murmured, appearing at his elbow.
“Neither is sneaking up on me.” He sighed.
“Whatever.” Luke pointed at the monitor. “That makes for record sales. That look.” He pointed at the door Krystal had just walked through. “That is biting the hand that feeds you.”
Jace stared at his manager.
“The show is over. The Kings are giving you a chance at an actual career.” His voice lowered. “We need to stay on CiCi King’s good side here, Jace. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be mixing business with pleasure.”
“No one is mixing a damn thing.” He frowned. “I don’t need help managing my life, Luke. Just my career.”
Luke smiled—it wasn’t a real smile. “Believe me, I don’t want to. So don’t get them mixed up, okay?”
For the next hour, Jace warmed up with the band Hank and Luke had pulled together. He’d spent time jamming with Travis and Sawyer, but this was different. This was the real thing. Jace had been more than a little awed to have some industry staples backing him. Scotty Reed, his drummer, had covered for Hank and the Three Kings a few times. Rafael Fuentes, guitar and keyboards, and Tommy Glenn, bass guitar, had been touring since Jace was in high school. In a couple of weeks, when he was officially the Three Kings opening act, they’d be his band, and it blew his mind.
So did being led around backstage, to watch the show from the wings.
He’d never seen the Three Kings live. He’d managed to get Heather a ticket once, a couple of years ago, for her sixteenth birthday but he’d had to work. Seeing them up close, hearing them harmonize, the easy rhythm and seamless delivery were awe-inspiring.
He sang along when they sang the crowd-pleasing drinking song “One More Round,” tapped his foot to “Cut and Run,” and wound up staring when Krystal pulled out all the stops for “I’m Leaving First.”
“Ready?” a woman asked. He should know her name but he was drawing a blank. She handed him his guitar. “Jace?” she repeated. “You ready?”
Hell no. He nodded, slipping the strap over his shoulder and running his hands along the familiar, worn leather strap. But this wasn’t some honky-tonk truck stop in West Texas. And it wasn’t some reality show with folks screaming, hoping to get themselves on television. This was it.
The big league. His big break. The beginning. Or the end.
“We’ve got a real treat tonight,” Travis was talking. “Some of y’all might have heard a rumor about my little sister Krystal teaming up with a certain singer?” He paused, letting the roar of the crowd rise. “Any ideas on who I’m talking about?”
It started out soft but rose. Over and over, a little louder each time. His name.
Jace. Jace. Jace.
“Hear that, Krystal?” Travis asked. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag.” Travis turned and waved him forward.
The crowd went crazy.
He didn’t remember making the conscious decision to walk, but he was moving. Without tripping over the spiderweb of cords and cables that covered the stage. Without being blinded by the white spotlight narrowing the stage to one spot.
Krystal, seated on a stool, and an empty stool beside her. For him.
She patted the stool, smiling at him like this was an everyday sort of occurrence.
He tipped his hat, earning a few screams from the crowd, and sat on the stool beside her. He looked out over the crowd, a mass of dark shapes and a few hundred telltale lights from all the cell phones recording. “Evening,” he said into the mic on the stand in front of him.
More screams had him shaking his head.
He strummed his fingers over the strings of his guitar and turned to Krystal. The stools were close enough to see her, close enough to feel the heat and energy rolling off of her. She was nervous. No, the look on her face said something else. She was…terrified?
This wasn’t about him. This was about her. And this song. It mattered to her, maybe more than he could truly understand.
He winked at her, took her hand long enough to offer a reassuring squeeze, and began to play in earnest. He drew a deep breath and sang. “I remember you, standing in the sun, smiling at me, and suddenly my world caught fire. Blinding, beautiful fire.”
The audience went crazy.
“I remember you, taking my hand, holding me close, and suddenly my world caught fire. Blinding, beautiful fire.” Her gaze stayed on him, the husky notes of her voice wavering and rich and mesmerizing.
A few notes, his fingers moving on their own. “You were everything…” He sang his part then he paused a beat. “…you tried to run from the heat.”
Krystal swayed with the music, raw and anguished; she didn’t hold back. “…the sweetest pain of all.”
All he could do was stare, the words and music tying them together as they sang. “Love isn’t love when the flames burn it down. There’s no hiding or forgiveness from the damage that it’s done. When the smoke clears away, you’ll still find me searching here. Searching for the ashes of my heart.”
If he woke up tomorrow and this was over, he’d be satisfied. He was a roughneck. A midnight bail-bondsman. A blue-collar man with a beat-up truck and a mobile home with a leaky roof and a groaning air conditioning unit. But tonight, he was singing a damn good song with Krystal King in front of a few thousand people screaming his name.
He stood, playing through the extra notes she’d added for a guitar solo. He’d thought she’d meant to play it. Instead, she’d told him to. “Girls love guys who play the guitar,” she’d said. He hadn’t argued.
From the screams and whistles of the audience, she’d been right.
But they weren’t who he was looking to impress. She was right here, next to him. He shot her a smile and she slid off her stool, coming to his side. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks were red, and her eyes flashed. Whatever jitters she’d been feeling, they were gone. The music carried them both.
He stepped closer, his fingers stilling on the strings of his guitar.
She smiled up at him, breath a little uneven, the flash and shimmer of her earrings catching the lights. All of her sparkled—she was lit up from the inside, proud and happy and so damn gorgeous he didn’t want this moment to end. The whole coliseum seemed to be holding their breath, waiting. Krystal pushed a wayward curl from her shoulder and held her mic with both hands, her eyes never leaving his face.
He nodded, stepping close enough to share her mic.
“Love isn’t love when the flames burn it down. There’s no hiding or forgiveness from the damage that it’s done. When the smoke clears away, you’ll still find me searching here. Searching for the ashes of my heart.”
She hummed a note and repeated, softer and husky, “Searching for the ashes of my heart.”
It was his turn to hold his breath. Exhilaration mixed with a healthy dose of doubt settled hard and tight in the pit of his stomach. He waited, staring into her green eyes as the lights went dim.
The noise was deafening, rolling out of the dark and slamming into them. The crowd’s applause and screams and whistles swept over them like a wave of living, breathing energy. The sense of uncertainty he’d been grappling with for most of the day fell away instantly. This was good. Not just good, awesome. He knew it, felt it, and—according to Travis—needed to own it. When the high he was riding crashed, he’d consider it.
For now, he was sweaty, breathing hard, and, damn it, feeling pretty good. When Krystal threw her arms around his neck, it went from good to great. Right, even. And he held on to her. Tight.
Chapter 7
“You did it,” she whispered against his neck, true happiness welling up inside her.
“We did it.” His voice was muffled and gruff. He shifted his guitar behind him, so his arm could hold her against him in the best way possible.
We. The meaning of the word, applied to them, didn’t bother her the way it should have. There was no we here, not in the long run. This was a duet, a business arrangement—a collaboration. That’s all. She understood that. Well, her brain understood that.
The rest of her…that was a different story. Dammit, it wasn’t like she had a choice. Her reaction to him was instinctual. It wasn’t just warm fuzzies he stirred; it was the far more electric and bone-melting impact he had on her that was the problem.
And it was a problem.
Like now.
When she was hugging him in front of a crowd of several thousand fans and she was in no hurry to let go. When his scent made her dizzy and the crush of his chest against hers did nothing to dampen the whole bone-melting problem. If anything, the brush of his breath against her neck and the press of his hand against her back had her aching in a way that would lead to serious consequences. Enjoyable but far too complicated and severe consequences.
So much for her frantic attempt at damage control over her Jace and Clementine Instagram post.
“Y’all were awesome.” It was Emmy who hooked arms with her and pulled her, gently, away from his embrace.
Krystal nodded, Jace’s dark silhouette moving quickly offstage before the bright white lights kicked on.
“You good?” Emmy’s hold tightened. “It was amazing, Krystal.”
“I know.” She tried to laugh, but she couldn’t bring herself to make light of it. Not yet. It had been amazing, special—too special to dismiss. She wasn’t one for sentimentality but this, she wanted to cherish.
The rest of the concert went like clockwork. They hit their marks, pulled out all the stops, and delivered everything their fans had come to expect from a Three Kings show.
“Where’s Jace?” Travis asked. “He should come out for the finale.”
Lori, the stage manager, managed to find him and send him out in time to sing their hit “Forever My Home.” The audience approved, making Jace blush and shake his head and amp up his appeal to every woman in the room.
Krystal couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t onstage. Right or wrong, she’d grown up in the spotlight. Now, it was second nature. Not so for Jace. Still, he rallied when she smiled his way and laughed when Travis whispered something in his ear. And then they were singing and he was fine.
It was odd how easily he fit, riffing off Travis’s guitar and playing along on his beaten-up wooden Taylor guitar. He knew the words, of course; he was a fan. And “Forever My Home” was a Three Kings favorite. Upbeat and catchy, Jace had no problem jumping right in. Fans loved it, especially the way he tipped his hat at the crowd when the song ended. Because he was a gentleman.
How long would that last now? She’d like to think Jace wouldn’t fall victim to the women, parties, drugs, and alcohol followed by a round of bad choices…but it seemed to be part of the process. How far he’d fall and how well he recovered was up to him.
Not that she needed to worry tonight. Even though her surprise wasn’t an intentional groupie-blocking move, there was no denying that was the end result. One more night to hold on to gentleman Jace.
She smiled. Gentleman Jace. It was catchy.
His light brown gaze met hers and when he smiled right back, his dimples appeared. The dimples. That skin-tight shirt. The tattoos. The bod… And the voice. Jace Black was pure temptation.
Good thing she was strong.
But, to play it safe, no more staring or smiling or leaning in or spontaneous hugs. She tore her gaze from his and headed offstage, gulping down a bottle of cold water Misumi offered and heading toward the greenroom. “She here?”
Misumi nodded. “She’s waiting.”
“Did she see the show?” Her excitement didn’t make sense. But she was. Excited.
“Got her a shirt, too. Figured that was okay? She’s a big fan, you know?” Misumi chuckled. “She even brought Clementine a treat.”
Krystal smiled at that. That was why Heather was here. She was a Three Kings fan. This was her brother’s first performance with them. Heather should be here to support her big brother and have a little fun in the process. Yes, Jace was missing his little sister and that might have had the slightest impact on her decision to fly Heather in for tonight’s show. But, primarily, this was for Heather.
“It’s trending,” Emmy said, holding up her phone.
“Glad that whole ‘no phones’ thing is being reinforced,” their manager, Steve, snapped.
Krystal rolled her eyes. Steve didn’t seem to grasp the significance of their fandom. Without their fans, he’d be out of a job. Leaked videos and pictures normally helped keep them relevant and on the charts.
“It’s you and Jace,” Emmy added.
Krystal paused then, glancing at the phone. There they were, singing. Leaning in…invested in each other, in the moment and the song. Her chest grew heavy, her lungs light. The hum and buzz they’d ignited onstage instantly sparked to life. It had been an incredible performance. Vulnerable and raw. And, possibly, revealing. Or maybe she was just being paranoid. Hopefully, she was. First the pictures, now this. It was all an illusion. She’d been at this game long enough to know that.
“Views are climbing.” Emmy Lou nodded. “Looks like you’ve got a serious fan base, Jace.”
“Bet ninety percent of them are chicks.” Travis chuckled. “You’ve increased your dating pool by a few thousand.”
“Travis.” Emmy Lou’s disapproval was adorable—because she was always adorable.
Krystal was not. With her nerves on edge, it wouldn’t take much to trigger a full-on vent at her brother. Which he would love. Going off the handle now would only give Travis more leverage in the whole crushing-on-Jace thing.
But the truth was something different. There was no crush. Crushes implied something sweet and innocent. Her response to Jace Black was anything but. She was a woman—he was all man. That was why she couldn’t give in to the urges and cravings he caused. Because it would be all too easy to lose herself in Jace.
In the end, this whole good-guy thing wouldn’t last. It never did. She was too smart to set herself up for a guaranteed heartache. She would be strong. Resist.
“Good job, man, good job.” Jace’s agent was all smiles. Unlike Steve, he still had that new agent giddiness. “Killer show. All of you.”
Krystal’s hand was shaking when she reached for the greenroom door. What if Heather didn’t like her? What if this was just a colossal mistake? Travis was going to make this unbearable.
“Krystal?” Travis asked, brushing her hand aside and opening the greenroom door.
“I can’t believe this!” It was almost a scream. “Ohmygawdohmygawd…seriously?”
It was the look on Jace’s face that set her mind at ease. He was smiling ear to ear, hurrying into the greenroom. She followed.
Jace was spinning Heather around, still smiling like a fool.
“His sister?” Travis asked, watching.
She nodded.
“You did this?” Emmy Lou’s voice wavered. She had enough sentimentality for the three of them. “Krystal.” She hugged her sister. “You did a good thing.”
She hugged her sister back, watching Jace and Heather’s reunion. “He missed her.”
“Little sisters.” Travis sighed, draping an arm over their shoulders. “You’re pests, but you’re our pests.”
Krystal smiled and swatted his chest. Emmy Lou smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.
“I can’t believe I’m here.” Heather was beet red and staring. “I can’t believe you’re here.” She clung to Jace’s arm. “This whole night.”
