Jace, page 11
“Right there with you.” Jace nodded. “Pretty unreal.”
“You were amazing.” Heather smiled up at him. “I was all, that’s my brother—who swears he can’t sing. Up there. Singing with Krystal King.” Her brown eyes met Krystal’s. “You’re like the single coolest person ever.” The way Heather was looking at her, she almost believed the girl.
Travis pushed her forward. “She has her moments.”
Krystal smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Heather.”
Heather hugged her. “Thank you, so much. I wanted to be here, but there was no way. Thank you.”
Krystal hugged her back. “You needed to be here.”
“This is amazing. Being here and you guys. Seriously, thank you.” Heather stepped back. “I did that. I just hugged Krystal King. I am so sorry. You’re like you. I’m seriously sorry.”
Krystal laughed.
“It’s just…I like, sort of idolize you, you know?” Heather paused. “Is that creepy? That is totally creepy, isn’t it?” She glanced back at her brother.
That’s when she realized Jace was staring at her. It was a new look. One she wasn’t sure what to make of.
“Am I messing things up?” Heather asked, covering her face with her hands.
“No, you’re not. He’s so happy you’re here, he’s speechless.” Travis stepped forward. “I’m Travis.”
“Oh, I know.” She was wide-eyed and blushing. “You’re way cuter in person—I didn’t think that was possible.”
“I like her,” Travis said to Jace.
“Liking is okay. Anything else is not allowed,” Krystal cut in, stepping between Heather and her brother with a narrow-eyed look of warning.
Travis was laughing.
“Heather, I am so glad to meet you.” Emmy Lou was all smiling charm and sweetness.
The inevitable glaze of awe descended on Jace’s little sister and Krystal risked another glance at Jace.
His light brown eyes met hers. Thank you, he mouthed, nodding at his sister. When he looked at Heather, it was with so much love. He seemed…calm. Relieved. Excited. It made sense, needing to have someone he knew by his side. Someone unconditionally on his side he could share this with.
And right then, Krystal knew the truth. None of this was for Heather. She’d done it all for Jace.
* * *
“How do you not freak out every single day?” Heather was shifting from foot to foot, barely containing her excitement. “That is Hank King,” she whispered. “I mean, Jace. We are talking about the Hank. King.”
Jace nodded. “That is Hank King. Right there. Believe me, I know. I’m not used to it. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to any of…this.”
“How could you? I’d never get anything done. I’d just stare. Like that guy. Who is that guy?”
“His name is Sawyer.” He nodded at the man. “He’s security. Mostly for Emmy and Krystal.”
“Then I guess he’s allowed to stare at people and stand in corners like that. Still, sorta freaky, though.” Heather let out a little squeal and took his hand in hers. “Emmy Lou is super nice. And oh so pretty. But Krystal…” She sighed, a dreamy sort of sigh he was familiar with. “She is it, you know? Just, everything.”
“Yeah.” He knew, all right.
“She did this. I mean, her assistant, Misumi, called me two days ago and, boom, here I am.” She shook her head. “She really likes you. Taking that picture of you and Clementine was just about the biggest stamp of approval she could give you.”
Which was news to Jace. Poor Clementine had been passed around like a hot potato, which led him to doubt his sister’s summation of the whole photo op.
But Heather wasn’t done. “I mean, you two sounded so, so good. Not good. It was…it was incredible.” Her smile grew. “Do you even know how amazing you two sound?”
He shrugged. Maybe. Yes. He wanted to think he did but…nothing about tonight felt real. Beginning with that photo shoot, ending with hearing Heather’s profuse thank-yous to Krystal.
“Come on, Jace.” She tugged at his hand. “This is your life now. How is this happening?”
“Which means it’s your life, too.” He squeezed her fingers. “How’s school?”
“Nope, nuh-uh, we are not talking about school.” She squealed again. “Is that…is that CiCi King? I have read a lot about her.” His sister’s tone was both awed and intimidated.
That was most definitely CiCi King. The change in the air was palpable—from euphoric to braced. It didn’t help that she was looking at Jace, and Heather, with a smile that had him checking for exits.
“She’s pretty,” Heather murmured. “In a mean-girl sort of way. Like, mess-with-me-and-I-will-cut-you thing? Wait, did I say that out loud?”
He laughed. Luckily, the room was noisy and they were far enough away that no one would have heard her. Krystal’s comment about Heather getting all the brains played through his head. She might be young, but she was razor-sharp. And perceptive. CiCi King was a mean girl—worse, a mean mother. He might not know the details of what soured her and Krystal’s relationship, but there was no denying it was hanging on by a thread. A thread neither of them seemed ready or willing to save.
“What do you do now?” Heather asked. “Something cool?”
He chuckled. “Me? No. I’m pretty tuckered out, Heather. Let me check in with Luke, and if we get the all clear, I could go for some pizza?” He paused. “And a shake?”
“It’s like midnight.” She made a show of looking at her phone.
“I didn’t realize there was a pizza and shake cutoff time.” He winked. “You’re not hungry?” To him, she seemed skinny. Too skinny. One night of pizza and a few milkshakes wouldn’t fix that, but it would have to do. For now.
“I could eat.” But she wasn’t paying attention. Krystal walked in—with Clementine. He wasn’t sure what Heather was more excited about: Krystal or the dog. He had to admit, Clementine was growing on him. He’d come to admire the little dog’s fearlessness, even when she was sliding into walls or stumbling in a full run. Must get that from her owner—the woman holding the dog. She was something else. Something soft pretending to be hard. Something vulnerable pretending to be strong.
Her green gaze bounced off his, but she smiled Heather’s way. Why did she do that? Did she honestly believe he bought her whole indifferent thing? He didn’t. There was no way she could deny the current between them—it was too big, too live, too damn electric to ignore.
“Krystal King is smiling at me,” Heather whispered, her grip painfully tight. “Smiling.”
“You did sort of tackle her.”
Heather stared up at him in horror. “I did. I really did.”
“I was teasing, Heather.” He hugged her close. “Give me a sec.” It didn’t take long for him to hunt down Luke. He was on his phone, as always.
“We’re going through Salt Lake tomorrow. From there, we’re in California. I’ve got you on that late late-night show with the guy that does the singing?” He looked up from his phone. “The funny one?”
Jace nodded, not entirely sure who Luke was talking about but assuming it was a good thing. Promo was always a good thing, wasn’t it? Especially now that he’d be the Kings’ opening act. How hard could it be? Sitting in a chair, talking about how damn lucky it was to be him right now. He was the luckiest bastard alive and he knew it.
“This is good, man, awesome.” Luke slapped him on the shoulder.
“Okay for me to take off?” he asked. “Heather’s here.”
“Check with Hank, will you?” Luke’s phone buzzed. “I don’t think he has anything else planned, but I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. Especially his.”
“Agreed.” But the sight of Krystal beside Heather, Clementine in his sister’s lap, had him heading their way. “Satisfied?”
“Um, no. I’m overwhelmed. Can I just quit school and be her dog nanny?” Heather was smiling, Clementine bathing her cheek in doggy kisses. “We don’t have to rush off, do we?”
“Where are you rushing off to?” Krystal asked, smiling at the ferocity of Clementine’s wiggles.
“Someplace where there’s good pizza. Maybe a few milkshakes?” He paused. “If you want to join us? After the meet-and-greet thing?”
He wasn’t sure who was more surprised. Heather was practically bouncing in place. Krystal was staring at him like he’d grown another head. Or the fact that he’d asked her to come along.
“Did I hear milkshakes?” Travis asked, joining the group. “Sawyer was telling me about this place off the highway. Not sure about the pizza, but the burgers and shakes are good.”
“I’m not averse to a good burger.” Jace nodded.
“My stalker Sawyer?” Krystal asked.
Travis pointed. “Krys, he’s your security guard. He’s decent.”
Jace took another look at Sawyer. Stalker? He grinned, thinking about Heather’s earlier assessment. Weren’t security guards supposed to be stony-faced, muscle-bound guys? The “King’s Guard” shirt did make it hard to take him too seriously, though.
“Why don’t I recognize him? I like Jerome better; he’s not intense all the time.” Krystal’s gaze narrowed. “Besides, isn’t he a little young to be a retired Special Ops guy? Dad’s a firm believer in hiring veterans.”
“Don’t know. But he’s cool.” Travis yawned. “Pretty good on the guitar, too. Food? Yes?”
“Sounds good. Can you watch her until this dog and pony show is over?” Krystal sighed, smoothing the crazy white tuft on top of Clementine’s little head.
Heather was speechless, staring between Krystal and Clementine with wide, wide eyes.
“Pretty sure that’s a yes,” Jace answered for her.
“Y-yes.” Heather nodded. “I’ll take the best care of her.”
“I know it.” Krystal gave Clementine a final pat, then followed her family into the room of big spenders and potential sponsors. Jace and Heather encountered a few stray fans on their way out of the stadium. Awkward or not, he signed the shirts and pics and notebooks held his way and posed for a pic or two. Clementine’s presence didn’t go unnoticed, so he hurried Heather along, thinking the little dog’s presence, with him, might be best avoided. They poked around his bus while the Three Kings did their thing. He had time to shower and pull on a favorite T-shirt, worn jeans, and a hometown feed store baseball cap.
“You don’t look like Mr. Fancy-Pants Jace Black anymore.” Heather sat on the floor, Clementine running back and forth across her legs, chasing her squeaky toy.
Jace looked down at his outfit. “I’ve worn this a hundred times.”
“Right. As Jace, my brother. Working two jobs, sweaty all the time. Leaves his dirty socks by the hamper—not in the hamper.” She smiled down at Clementine. “I’m not complaining. I love you either way.”
He shook his head. “Good, because I’m the same person. Your brother?”
Heather laughed as Clementine rolled onto her back. “It was weird. You didn’t look like you. I mean, you did, sort of, but you didn’t.”
He sat on the floor beside her. “How do you think I feel looking in the mirror?”
She patted his leg. “But you’re happy? Aren’t you?” She rubbed Clementine, but her brown eyes were searching his.
He nodded. “Of course I am.” For the first time in his life, he had a chance to make life easier for them.
“You sure?” Her voice broke. “I worry about you.”
“You don’t need to, you hear me?” He caught her hand in his. “It’s my job to worry about you, not the other way around.”
“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.” She squeezed his hand. “After Nikki and Ben…I guess I’m always going to worry about you.” Her head rested on his shoulder. “That’s not something a sister just forgets, seeing her brother like that.”
He’d been a mess after the accident. For weeks, he couldn’t let go of what should have happened. He should have remembered the milk and eggs Nikki had asked him to bring home. If he had, Nikki would never have packed Ben into his car seat and headed into town. But he hadn’t remembered. He’d been too tired to notice she wasn’t steady on her feet or the empty case of beer in the back of the pantry—until after. Her car swerved into oncoming traffic. They’d been hit, head-on, by a semitruck.
Ben had died on impact.
Nikki had hung on for three weeks, a bunch of wires and machines working to keep her alive. He’d never felt that kind of pain—or anger. At Nikki. At himself. When she died, he didn’t know what to feel or do or think. Work, and Heather, kept him going. To pay Nikki’s hospital bills and keep food on the table, he had to work doubles.
His biggest regret? Shutting out his little sister. He’d lost a wife and son. She’d lost her nephew. Heather had loved that boy with her whole heart. Losing him had gutted her, too.
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I guess that’s what you do when you love someone. You worry.”
She nodded. “But if I know you’re happy, I won’t have to worry so much.”
“Then stop worrying, kiddo.” He pressed another kiss to her temple. It had been two years. Two years of shutting out the what-ifs and regrets and clinging to things worth protecting. The laughs and hugs and the feel of Ben in his arms… He didn’t want to forget any of that.
Days got easier and life kept on going.
Once Heather entered him in that television show, his world was stuck on fast-forward. Everything was different. What that meant, he wasn’t exactly sure. Not yet. But he wasn’t about to worry his little sister. Was he happy? He didn’t know. Was he thankful? Hell yes. That was enough. More than enough.
By the time Emmy Lou, Travis, and Krystal showed up, Jace had been ready to call it a night. He was an early-to-bed, early-to-rise man. It was way past his bedtime.
“You look beat,” Travis chuckled, leading them across the well-lit parking lot to the waiting black SUV.
“I am.” He didn’t argue.
“We can skip it, if you want.” Heather all but drooped with disappointment, still holding Clementine.
“Are you kidding?” He wrapped an arm around her. “I didn’t get all cleaned up for nothing.”
“I’m not sure you could call that cap clean,” Krystal replied.
Jace pulled off his cap. “I’ve had it for ten years. Just about got it broken in.”
Krystal laughed, shaking her head. Her face was scrubbed free of makeup, the tight-fitting dress traded in for faded jeans and a blue plaid button-down shirt two sizes too big. Her boots still sparkled something fierce, making him grin. She looked young and carefree with her long hair caught back in a ponytail and a smile on her face.
“What?” Her smile dipped.
Dammit. He’d been staring. And she’d noticed.
“Your boots.” He fumbled for an excuse.
“What about them?” She stared down at her boots.
“Right. Boots,” Travis said, he and Emmy Lou going to the other side of the vehicle.
“Not exactly ranch gear.” He shrugged, then opened the door of the SUV.
“Good thing we’re not going to the ranch.” Hands on hips, her brows rose. “Besides, I like these boots.”
“They’re some boots.”
“They’re custom-made,” Heather said, looking back and forth between them. “All the etching and crystals and design work—just for Krystal.”
Krystal’s smile tightened and she stared down at her boots, a V forming between her brows.
“Ladies first.” He gave Heather a hand up into the SUV.
“Thank you.” His sister was all breathless excitement again, holding on to Clementine like the dog was a national treasure.
“Always the gentleman.” Krystal took the hand he offered, the starch back in her spine. “She’s sweet.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice. And regret.
He held on to her longer than necessary, wishing like hell she’d let him in and knowing the chances were slim. “Some people would say bringing my baby sister here for me was sweet.”
“Maybe.” Her gaze fell to their joined hands. “Others might think I did it because I was after something.” She slid onto the leather seat and pulled the door shut without another word.
He climbed into the front passenger seat and nodded at Sawyer, their driver, all the while wondering what the hell her comment meant. Was she trying to warn him away again? Or was she hoping to reel him in? Hook, line, and sinker.
Chapter 8
“Strike!” Krystal did a little dance across the polished floor of the bowling alley.
“Way to not be competitive.” Travis crossed his arms over his chest.
“You know better.” She leaned forward, smiling at her brother.
“Glad you’re on my team.” Jace high-fived her, his dark hair falling onto his forehead. “That puts us in the lead, doesn’t it?”
His grin made her forget about her brother and the need to rub his face in the fact that they were kicking his and Sawyer’s butts. Just like Jace’s laugh made her insides go all soft and warm. And the heat of his hand on her back had her leaning, just a bit, into his touch. Until tonight, she’d thought bowling was boring.
Travis rolled his eyes. “You’re both poor sports, then? Awesome. Something else you have in common.”
“Maybe we should call it a game?” Emmy Lou sat at a table behind their lane, with Heather and Clementine. “Food is here, anyway.”
“Fine.” Travis scowled.
“Wait, hold on.” Krystal held her hand up. “Are we calling it as in Jace and I win? Or calling it and tomorrow you’ll say it didn’t count?”
Travis rolled his eyes.
“That’s not an answer.” She glanced at Jace. “Is that an answer?”
