Jace, page 17
He sat back, pressing the cold water bottle to his head. “What might she have said?”
“Probably a whole bunch of stuff that I said—when I thought she was, you know, actually my friend.” Her voice broke. “Jace, I’m sorry. I am such an idiot. I don’t even belong here—”
“Hold on now.” He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know I can’t handle it when you cry, Heather. Especially when you’re this far away.”
She took several long, shuddering breaths.
He stood and paced the dressing room. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know. I’m used to having you to talk to. I thought Brenna was someone I could talk to. And it was more stuff that I hoped would happen, you know? You and Krystal and how I wanted you two to get together. I told her that. I’m so stupid. Trusting people.”
“Trusting people isn’t stupid.” He sighed. “It’s knowing who you can and can’t trust.”
“I guess.” She sniffed. “I went to see about getting a new roommate and Brenna started crying because she was sorry—”
“Heather, if she’s sorry, maybe you can work this thing out?” He turned to see Krystal in his dressing room, leaning against the door, an odd look on her face.
“Why would I want to?” Heather sniffed again. “How would I ever learn to trust her again?”
“Trust takes time.” He tore his gaze from Krystal. “People mess up, you know that. If you don’t think there’s a way to work this out, then I’ll see about getting you moved to another room. If you do, you should give it a try.”
She sighed.
“You remember what Gramma said?” He was smiling. “Nothing worth a thing will come—”
“Easy.” She sighed again. “I know. And she is acting sorry. Like crying a lot.”
“Talk to her, then call me back. Okay?”
“Okay. I love you, Jace.”
“I love you, too.”
“Call you later. Probably tomorrow?” she added.
“Sounds good. Bye.” He hung up.
“Nothing worth a thing will come what?” Krystal asked, rearranging the various brushes and sprays and powders the makeup team used on him before the show. The damn counter was covered in things he’d never known existed before.
“Easy.” He set his phone down. “Nothing worth a thing will come easy.”
“Heather?” Her gaze met his, then fell back to the counter. “She okay?”
“She will be.” He did his best not to stare, but it was damn near impossible.
She was wearing the last costume of the evening. Black denim dress, little cutouts of stars around the bottom of the short skirt and the top. It was sleeveless, so her shoulders and an eye-catching display of the top of her breasts had him holding his breath every single time she bounced or leaned forward during a song. Her eye makeup was dark, smudged from the last three hours of exertion, bright red lips, and long curls falling down her back. She was, as always, beautiful.
She’d kissed him. He’d kissed her back, then told his manager and her father he cared about her. Which was probably why she was here. But she’d kissed him, she’d ignited this all over again. And now, what? Her ramrod posture. Avoiding his gaze. None of it meant anything good.
She drew in a deep breath and looked at him.
Damn it all, but she was gorgeous. Her breath unsteady, breasts shaking, eyes blazing—demanding his attention. He couldn’t look at her without wanting her.
One minute she was across the room, the next, she was pulling him toward her.
He should stop her, say something, anything. Instead, he backed her up against the door. His kiss wasn’t gentle—he hurt too much. His tongue invaded the warmth of her mouth and she moaned, her nails biting into the back of his head. She matched him, kiss for kiss, on and on, until he was breathless and hungry for more.
Her hands yanked his pearl-snapped shirt wide.
He tugged the top of her dress down.
The crush of skin on skin knocked the air from his lungs, his lips latching on to her neck, making her gasp.
Her fingers fell to the waist of his jeans, unbuttoning. Unzipping and reaching inside. Her fingers closed around him, stroking. He arched into her hand, pressing an open-mouthed kiss—and a damn near growl—against her neck. The salt of her sweat lingered on his lips and tongue.
He tried to pull up her tight skirt while his mouth sucked the tip of one breast, his tongue and teeth working her into a frenzy before he did the same to the other.
She was moaning, wriggling, releasing him, and pressing her hands over her head, against the dressing room door.
With a less-than-gentle tug and the faint sound of fabric splitting, her skirt was up and around her waist, and her panties were gone. He grabbed her hips and lifted her, her thighs silk around his waist.
Reason found him before they made a mistake they’d regret. “I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m clean,” she said. “I get shots. Birth control.” Her ankles pressed against his hips, the only encouragement he needed, but her whispered “Please, Jace” made him frantic.
One thrust. “Dammit,” he ground out, pressing her against the door, squeezing her hips.
She was holding on to him, her green eyes fluttering open.
He thrust again, savoring her heat, tight around him. Then he was moving, powering into her, harder and faster.
Her lips parted, panting and gasping and clinging to him. Her eyes closing.
“Look at me,” he ground out.
She did, her body instantly shuddering, clamping down on him from the inside. He caught her cries with his kiss, his mouth sealed to hers until she was panting. But her legs tightened around his waist and she latched on to his neck, licking and kissing, making sure every nerve ending was strung tight and pulsing. He came, groaning loud and long, burying his face against her neck and thrusting deep. He held on to her until the world started to take shape again.
He waited until she was steady on her feet before stepping away.
She had her dress into place before he was done buttoning up his shirt. “Did you mean what you said?” she asked.
He smiled. “About? I’ve said a lot of things.”
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, her hand on the doorknob.
“Wait.” His hand covered hers.
“Jace.” She sighed. “It’s nothing. It is what it is.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Her gaze fell to his chest, his pants—open at the waist—and shuddered.
Instantly, he understood. “You mean me and you?” He paused but she didn’t look at him or respond. “This is it? This is what you want? You want me when you want me, but only then?”
She glared at him, her red lips opening. But she stopped, her gaze falling from his. “I guess that won’t work for you?”
He put a hand on either side of the door. If this was the only way to spend time with her, to get close to her, it was a start. Not like he minded making love to her, not one little bit. “What about me?”
She looked at him, a little surprised, a little uncertain. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”
“Probably,” he agreed. “But we both know it’s going to happen again.”
She stiffened, that defiant tilt of her head making him smile.
His lips brushed the side of her neck, taking his time, nipping and licking and making her quiver. More kisses, up the curve of her neck, then sucking her earlobe into his mouth. She softened, her hands resting on his chest, then grabbing the front of his shirt. “It’s going to happen again,” he said against her lips.
“Fine,” she whispered.
“Fine?” he repeated. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.
She nodded. “If you…are…want…how will I know?”
He smiled, stepping back. “Believe me, you’ll know.”
She shook her head and turned the doorknob.
“You’ve got a rip.” He pointed at the seam along her hip. “Might want to get that taken care of.”
Her brows rose high. “You should be more careful.”
“Next time?” He grinned. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t like that near as much.” His phone started vibrating.
“You might want to answer that. It could be Heather.” Her hand slipped off the doorknob.
He headed for his phone. “It’s Luke.” He silenced his phone and stuffed it into his pocket.
Her phone started ringing. She pulled it out of her boot. “Emmy.” She answered. “What’s up?”
Luke texted.
Video of you and Krystal kissing. TNM is on it. Someone close or onstage. No doubt who it was.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” Krystal said. “Daddy? Fine. Thanks.” She hung up.
“What’s TNM?” he asked.
“That sleazy entertainment news show, Tabloid News Media. Luke?” She nodded at her phone. “I’m guessing he called for the same reason Emmy did.”
“Video?” he asked. “Luke says…” He read the text out loud.
“I guess I owe you an apology.” She shook her head, her long curls swaying. “Wheelhouse Records has already called Steve. Steve’s already freaking out to my father.”
“This going to require damage control?” he asked.
“More for you than anyone else, I’m sure.” Her eyes widened and she crossed the room, picking up the pair of panties he’d kicked aside not ten minutes ago. “Guess I should take these with me.”
His phone started vibrating again. “Luke.”
“You should talk to him.” She headed for the door. “I guess I’m giving you your first scandal. Who knows? Maybe you’ll wind up with a platinum album, too.”
“You know that’s not what I’m after here, with you. A hit record.” He needed her to believe that.
“I know. That’s what scares me.” She yanked the dressing room door open. “Emmy Lou said we’ll have breakfast in the morning, get on the same page, go from there.”
He was staring after her, shocked by her honesty. His phone kept on vibrating. “Yeah?” He answered the phone, frustrated and tired and exhilarated, all at once.
“We’re meeting in the morning.” Luke sighed. “I know you don’t get how serious this is, but Wheelhouse is worried. They want you to have a certain image and they’re worried that will change if this thing with Krystal progresses.”
“Certain image?” he asked, chuckling. “I’m supposed to be, what, a monk?”
“It would be different if this were Emmy we were talking about.” He cleared his throat. “There are a lot of rumors about Krystal. Some true, some not. Look, Jace, this is a big deal. She cost the label some serious money about ten years ago. I don’t know all the details, it’s all some big secret, but it was touch-and-go as to whether Wheelhouse would keep Three Kings. Bottom line, they see you as a moneymaker and they don’t want that to change.”
How the hell had she cost them money? Ten years ago, the Three Kings were still teen stars, rosy-cheeked and on the rise. He hadn’t kept up with them—but Heather had. Maybe she’d have some idea why Wheelhouse was losing their shit over this. Krystal was part of one of the most consistently chart-topping bands in years. “Guess we’ll sort it out in the morning.”
“Jace, I’m asking you to be open-minded here. We both want the same thing—a career for you. You need to think about what that means. What sort of compromises and sacrifices you might have to make in order for that to happen. I know you like her. I do. But is she worth you losing a contract renewal? You’re only signed for a year, Jace. I know you and Heather don’t want to go back to the way it was before you won the show.”
Jace couldn’t argue that. The winnings had paid off Nikki’s hospital bills and a good portion of Heather’s tuition, but not all of it. Going back to days on the oilfields and nights at the local Bail Bonds wouldn’t be the end of the world, for him. But it would impact Heather’s future. He’d made peace with the life they’d lived, but he sure as hell wanted better for her.
“Think about it. Really think about it. I’ll see you in the morning.” Luke hung up.
Jace stared at his phone.
She’d kissed him and he wasn’t about to regret it. Well, they’d done a hell of a lot more than that, but no one knew that part of it. How could kissing her cause so much trouble? What the hell had happened to make everyone so skittish about Krystal? And vice versa. He knew the Kings had secrets—that had been obvious from day one—all families did. But most family secrets didn’t involve or impact a high-stakes, multimillion-dollar company, in a billion-dollar industry. He wasn’t one to go digging into a person’s private affairs, but this time, he might have to make an exception.
Chapter 12
“This is bigger than you.” Her mother was all fired up. “And don’t feed me some line about caring for him, either. If you cared about Jace Black, you’d stay away from him.”
Krystal couldn’t argue with her—not on this. She’d tried to stay away from him. Sort of. But she couldn’t. And now, this. What the hell had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking. She’d been feeling. She’d missed him. It was that simple. Missed his touch and his kiss. Jace the Gentleman withdrawal.
“What about his sister? And all his dead wife’s medical bills?” Her mother waited. “You realize he worked two, sometimes three jobs and was still facing bankruptcy when that show came along? He finally has a chance to better himself—and his sister. Why would you take that from him?”
Bankruptcy? Medical bills? Was she telling the truth? Or manipulating things to make her feel worse?
“Mom, chill.” Travis ran a hand through his blond hair. “I don’t see why this is such a big deal. It was a frigging kiss. Period. No one saw much of anything. Besides, Mickey survived just fine. Why is this different?”
“It is completely different. How do you think people will react to Krystal breaking Jace’s heart? Or Three Kings? He’s…wholesome. A widower. The man lost his baby boy, Travis. Pretty much the entire country feels protective of him—a good portion of that wants to go to bed with him.”
Krystal took a sip of coffee. When her mother was irrational, it was easy to brush her off. But right now, her mother sounded all too rational.
“Your daddy was working on a new album. Did you know that?” She was pacing. “It’s been three years since his last one. You think having our name trashed all over the place, again, won’t impact how the label supports him? It will. Guess it was too much to hope that we’d steer clear of more troubles with the record label. Last time about ended the Kings’ music legacy.” She waited just long enough for Krystal’s stomach to twist, hard. “Now this nonsense about not going to ACMF?”
“Momma,” Emmy Lou jumped in. “We’re going.”
“Yes, I know. And Krystal will get some mysterious illness and bow out?” Her mother shook her head. “I know all about your little plan and I’m disappointed. Beyond disappointed. We don’t hide from our fears; we face them. You’re never going to let this go until you talk to—”
“Momma.” Krystal glared up at her, stunned that her mother was prepared to go there. “We should wait until Daddy gets here.”
“He’ll see it my way, Krystal. I don’t know why you’re always so determined to think otherwise.” She sighed, frowning at her. “He respects my industry savvy and the powerful friends I have. Friends who have stuck with us through the good times and the not so good times.”
“Fine.” Krystal drew her legs up, cradling Clementine against her chest. “He’ll side with you. And what did the two of you decide?”
She smiled. “Well, what if he’d been kissing Emmy Lou?”
“Emmy vaulted across the stage, in the dark, to tackle-kiss him right after he sang with Krystal?” Travis was smiling. “That makes perfect sense.”
Krystal stared down at Clementine, trying not to smile.
“Travis, I don’t need your smart mouth this morning.” CiCi sighed. “It wouldn’t take much to make it look like Emmy’s been singing with him the whole time, not Krystal. Some sort of fun and games, switching? The twin thing? It wouldn’t be the first time you two had done that. Steve is all over it. I’m sure we can put a believable spin on it, especially since Krystal has never done a duet or single before.” It would be a double win for her mother, pretending Krystal had never had her minute in the spotlight and giving Emmy Lou her song.
“That was one concert when we were, what, twelve?” Travis asked.
Emmy Lou frowned. “Besides, I’m not sure Jace will be okay with that, Momma. He’s not the smoke and mirrors type.”
He was all about being up-front and honest—Krystal had firsthand experience with that.
“Which is why the two of you make sense.” There was nothing but disdain on her face when she looked at Krystal. “And you two do not.”
“Kinda like a debutante and a ranch hand who’d sing in pool halls on the weekend?” Krystal pushed back. Her mother did not come from humble beginnings. Their father had.
“That was different.” Her mother paused, eyes hard and focused. “Now, wait a minute. Hold everything. Are you saying you’re in love with Jace Black?”
There was no right answer. If she loved him, which she didn’t, her mother would have a heart attack. If she didn’t love him, her mother would continue to push this whole Emmy Lou/Krystal switcheroo thing.
“Come on, Momma. Lay off,” Travis said. “Why would Emmy Lou pretend to be Krystal? Why would Krystal be okay with that? It won’t work.”
The sound of the bus doors opening silenced them all. Seconds later, her father, Steve Zamora, Luke, and Jace joined them.
“CiCi.” Daddy wasn’t pleased. “What is going on?”
