Jace, page 20
“Don’t believe her,” Jace interrupted. “She had it all figured out—”
“You fixed the tempo,” she interrupted.
“That’s nothing.” He was grinning and staring at her.
Her cheeks felt hot. “It’s something.” She spun away from them and made herself a cup of coffee, humming softly while the little coffee maker filled her favorite “The best breed is a rescue” coffee mug. But when she turned back, they were all watching her.
Except her father—he was poring over the sheet music.
Travis appeared to be in shock.
Emmy was a little happy and a little worried.
And Jace… She wasn’t ready to interpret what that expression meant. All she knew was that it made her feel good. Special. Worthy.
What am I doing? She took a sip of her coffee and prayed the last leg of the trip went fast.
But when the bus pulled down the long Spanish-oak- lined drive, Krystal’s panic returned—like a sledgehammer to the chest.
“Luke says it’s close to the studio,” Jace was saying. “I can’t keep taking advantage of your generosity.”
It was no big deal. Jace should have his own place, some privacy. She just wished she’d had a little heads-up to get used to the idea of not having him around all the time.
“I wish Luke had said something.” Her father was shaking his head. “We’ve got plenty of room. Hate to see you throwing money away.”
“Wheelhouse is paying for it.” Jace shrugged, the fabric of his T-shirt pulling tight across his shoulders.
She’d miss those shoulders.
Her father nodded. “Of course they are.” He glanced her way. “Probably best. You two keep spending too much time together, you might start to believe you’re a couple. And that would be terrible.” He chuckled.
Her daddy was teasing her about Jace? “I can give that song to someone else.” She held her hand out.
Hank shook his head, reaching out to tuck a curl behind her ear. “I’m not giving it up. Sometimes I marvel at the things you put to music. You did good, baby girl.”
Her daddy’s praise had always mattered. She held on to it as the bus doors opened and they climbed down the steps to a world far removed from their life on the road. Probably for the best. Real life always caught up in the end. Better to let things cool down between them before they headed out on the next leg of the tour.
Luke was waiting, leaning against the same four-door diesel pickup truck Jace had driven before.
“Looks like you’ve got a ride,” Hank said, holding out his hand. “I’ll see you at the studio in the morning, son.”
Jace shook his hand. “Yes, sir.”
By the time the bus was unpacked and they were the only two hedging their goodbyes, Krystal’s panic was barely under control. She had no reason to go to the studio in the morning. No reason to spend time with him between now and their first ACMF rehearsal. And it felt…wrong. For the last few weeks, she’d come to rely on him. His presence, his voice, and his touch had become a necessary part of her day. Now she was supposed to be okay without him?
He stared down at her, his light brown gaze wandering over her face. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
She didn’t know what that meant. Or what she was supposed to say. If she could manage to say a damn thing.
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I don’t want to go.”
She could breathe a little easier. “You don’t?”
He shook his head.
“Why?”
He swallowed, stepping forward to run his fingers through her hair. Their gazes locked and held. The way he looked at her—unflinching and intense—had her pulse racing. “You know why.”
No. No, she didn’t. Nothing her far-too-imaginative brain could come up with made any sense. The other options, the ones that made her heart swell with hope and want, were too unrealistic to believe. No matter how much she might want to believe…Jace, caring about her—really caring about her—was terrifying. Deflecting was what she did best. “There aren’t any reporters around, Jace.” She rolled her eyes and tried not to hyperventilate.
“If you’re not prepared for the answer, you shouldn’t ask the question.” His hand settled on the back of her neck as he stepped forward to kiss her. She should move away, turn her head… Instead, she put her arms around his neck.
A kiss goodbye was not a big deal. Or a few gentle, soft, lingering kisses.
“Dammit.” He was pulling her close then, kissing her until holding on to him was the only thing keeping her on her feet. “I’m gonna miss you.” And he let go.
She stood, frozen in place, as his boots carried him farther away. When he climbed into the truck and started the ignition, she kept waiting for him to stop, to look her way and wave goodbye. He didn’t. He and Luke and that massive truck drove down her driveway and disappeared around the bend.
Clementine barked and ran around in a circle, tail waving like a poof-topped flag. Krystal scooped her up and held her close. “He didn’t say goodbye to you,” she whispered, preferring anger to this…this ridiculous sadness she was feeling.
“I’ve got a few pictures that might help you two deal with your separation.” Travis was looking all kinds of pleased with himself. While everyone else had the common decency to give them a moment alone, her brother remained—to tease her without mercy. Why hadn’t she noticed?
Right, because she’d been too caught up in Jace to know or care if they had an audience of a thousand. What was wrong with her? She knew better than to put herself in this position. To put Jace in that position. Right here, in front of her house, with her mother and who knows who else looking for some tidbit of information to be used against her. If she wasn’t more careful, Jace would definitely fall into the to-be-used-against-her category. “Travis.” She snapped, so wound up she didn’t know what to say or think. “I’m warning you, I’m not in the mood.”
“I hate to break it to you, Little Sister, but that’s pretty much your mood every day.” He draped an arm around her shoulders.
“Why are you still here?” she grumbled.
“I dropped this.” He held out his lucky pocketknife. “Wasn’t after more pictures or anything. Not saying I didn’t get a few.”
Her eyes were burning and her throat felt tight, so she glared up at him.
“I’m teasing.” But he wasn’t smiling now. “Come on, Krystal. He didn’t know. Daddy thought he was staying with us—pretty sure Jace did, too,” he said, leading her to the house. “Luke called when you were still getting dressed. If it makes you feel any better, he didn’t look too happy about it, either.”
It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t. But, somehow, it did. She stared up at her brother. “Really?”
Travis stopped, his expression shifting. Sheer incredulousness widened his eyes. “Holy shit.”
She frowned, pulling away from him and hurrying toward the front door.
“You have got to be kidding me.” He was fast, running to catch up with her. “Krystal.” He grabbed her arm and spun her around. “You realize Momma will eat him alive if she thinks this is real.”
“It’s not.” She nodded, trying again—with all-too- forced conviction. “You know it’s not.” It was. It is.
Travis started laughing. “I don’t know who I feel sorrier for: you or Jace.”
She yanked free, tucked Clem close, and braced herself for the reunion with her mother.
* * *
“I don’t need all this.” Jace looked around the fully furnished apartment a few miles from the studio and about twenty minutes from Austin.
Luke chuckled. “You need to stop thinking like that. It’s not all about need anymore.”
He glanced at his manager. Luke Samuels was a decent enough guy but there were times Jace knew they’d never connect. Luke had never wanted for a thing. Jace had learned to make do without wanting. “I’m not wired that way.” Jace opened the refrigerator. “Who did the shopping?”
“Wheelhouse hired a personal shopper.” Luke didn’t bother looking up from his phone. “Tomorrow is booked solid so try to get some sleep tonight.”
Luke rattled off his itinerary. Studio, lunch meeting with a cologne company, studio, and Austin Country Music Festival mixer. “Did you get all that?” Luke asked.
“Yeah.” He nodded. Luke had been downright crabby since they’d left the Kings’ place. It wasn’t like Jace had made his feelings about Krystal a secret. Then again, Luke hadn’t kept his feelings a secret, either. “Might want to look these over.” He pulled some magazines and newspapers from his ever-present messenger bag and spread them on the marble kitchen counter.
Jace nodded, eyeing the collection of print with him and Krystal covering the pages. “Huh.” He picked up one especially good picture of Krystal, hard-pressed not to smile.
“I’ve got a meeting.” He sighed, looking at Jace. “The place is yours, man. Do what you will with it. You’re somebody now. That can be a good thing.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “It also means you have options.” He nodded at the magazines then. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Or you can tell me where to meet you for the lunch?” Jace offered, hoping Luke would take the hint. He needed a break from…everything.
Luke nodded. “Even better. Cool. I’ll text you the address, man.”
Once the front door closed, he did a slow spin, taking in the town house the record label had rented for him. Three bedrooms—why did he need three bedrooms? Two bathrooms. It’d be nice not to have to share when Heather arrived. The hot tub in the small, high-walled garden out back was a nice surprise. A massive grill, too. Even better since the chrome-and-marble kitchen was full of gadgets he had no idea how to use.
He headed to the refrigerator, his stomach grumbling. For real food. A steak sounded just about right. Hopefully this personal shopper had thought to get some. He rummaged through the refrigerator and came up with a package of two petit sirloins.
“Those are some sad-looking steaks.” He sighed.
One magazine caught his eye and he picked it up, skimming the article about their blossoming relationship. Seeing himself side by side with Krystal was a dose of reality.
She was Krystal King. He was some overnight reality show singer. For the last couple of weeks, he’d forgotten that they came from different worlds. To him, Krystal was a damaged, creative soul, and he was the damn fool falling head over heels in love with her.
His phone vibrated. He set the steaks aside and pulled out his phone from his pocket.
Hey big brother. Can’t wait to see you.
He nodded. Me neither.
She peppered him with questions. What should she pack? Where were they going? Who would they see? He answered as best he could.
Wow. You are like no help. And a laughing emoji.
I’ll ask Krystal. Love you.
Love you too.
There was that picture again, the bowling alley one. Seeing her that way, relaxed, in his arms, filled him with a sense of rightness. Right or wrong, he had it bad for this woman. Damn near spilling his heart out in the driveway of the King homestead wasn’t part of the plan. He’d be seeing plenty of her over the next few days. Then they’d be back on the road together for the East Coast leg of the tour. But that hadn’t made leaving her this morning any easier.
He sat on one of the kitchen stools, spreading out the magazine and papers Luke had left. A dozen different pictures of them, but one thing never changed. He wasn’t the only one looking at her like she was the air he needed to breathe. She looked at him like, maybe, he was important. Maybe he was a fool for falling for her, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it.
His phone vibrated.
Krystal.
Somehow, seeing her name made the new surroundings and quiet not seem so alien to him. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but a close-up picture of Clem, a tiny pink studded bow clipped in the poof on top of her head, was not it. She’s upset you didn’t say goodbye.
Getting out of there had been a top priority. Saying goodbye to Clementine? Not so much. The dog was cute and all, but it was her owner he was interested in. A whole hell of a lot.
Nothing a dog biscuit can’t fix.
He waited for her response.
Another picture. Clem, dog biscuit in her mouth, and Krystal, a Red Vine in hers. He smiled, running a finger over her face. There was nothing prettier. Nothing.
Never cared much for Red Vines before.
That’s plain sad and wrong, Jace Black. I’m not sure I can associate with someone who can’t appreciate the delectable yumminess of a Red Vine. Then another text. Before what?
Caught that one?
He chuckled.
Before you. You free for dinner?
It took a minute for her text to come in.
Not a good idea. Momma’s on the warpath. I’d like to keep you out of the line of fire.
He frowned, then dialed her number. FaceTime.
“Hello?” Her hair was in a tangled bun on her head. “What are you doing?” She was walking quickly across the marble hallway.
“Calling you.” He smiled.
She rolled her eyes. “Why? You left, like, an hour ago.”
“Figure I should set the record straight.” He slid off the kitchen stool.
“That sounds ominous.” She was practically running down the hall.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“My room.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Hold on.”
He did, his view alternating between her bare feet and the tile floor. Once they were in her room, it was white carpet and then her face. “Okay, go ahead.”
He smiled. She smiled back.
“Hi.”
She flopped onto her bed, holding the phone up and over her.
Just like he’d been this morning. Braced over her. Staring into her eyes. Making love to her. In that moment, he’d have given just about anything to have her within reach. He cleared his throat.
“What record are you setting straight?” Against the muted green of her quilt, her eyes were bright, more mesmerizing than ever.
“It’s not your job to protect me from the media or your mother.”
She blinked. “That’s why you called me?” Her forehead wrinkled.
“Maybe I miss…having company.” He shrugged.
Her eyes narrowed. “Company?”
“You.”
She smiled. “Oh.”
“I know you miss me, too. You don’t have to say it.” He shook his head.
She was still smiling. “I didn’t say a thing. How’s your place?”
He shrugged. “Big. Too big for just me. Empty.”
“You need a dog.” Krystal turned away as Clementine ran into view, doing her best to bathe Krystal’s face in doggy kisses.
“I’m good. Wouldn’t want Clem to get jealous.” He paused. “If I were going to find a good steak place, around six, where should I go?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Are you looking for a recommendation? Or trying to get me to meet you?”
“A man’s got to eat.”
She rolled over, her phone resting on the bed and looking down at him. Most of her hair had slipped loose. He liked this view just as much. Better if she were naked and here with him. “Damn,” he bit out.
“What?” Her green eyes sparkled.
“Nothing.” He shook his head.
“Daddy’s favorite steak place is Frank’s Steakhouse.”
“Frank’s it is.” He stood up. “Guess I’ll get cleaned up and head that way.”
She sat up. “Jace.” She cleared her throat.
He nodded.
“Guess I should practice at this pretend thing a little?” She cleared her throat again. “I miss you.”
“Maybe I should come over.” He’d come up with a reason—other than needing to see her.
“No.” She shook her head. “You are not.”
He nodded. “Yep.”
“Jace, please.”
She’d said that to him this morning, too. Breathless, clinging. And just like that, his blood was pumping; memories of this morning—deep inside her—kicked in. “Hearing you say please does things to me.”
Her eyes fluttered shut. She rolled onto her side, propped her phone on the pillow beside her, and stared at him. “Good.” It was a whisper.
He shook his head, content to stay as they were.
“Heather texted.” She smiled. “I’m going to take that girl shopping.”
He groaned, thinking about the schedule Luke had for them. “Pretty sure I don’t have time for that. Besides, she has clothes.”
“I didn’t say you were invited.” She rolled her eyes. “You’d just slow us down.”
He laughed. “I see how it is.”
She grinned. “I gotta go.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow? At the mixer thing?”
“Maybe.” But that look set in, far-off and remote, like she was fighting something only she could see. “We’ll see.”
“I only called to talk to Clem, anyway. Since she was upset with me.” He smiled.
“Oh, really?” She held the phone out to Clem, who cocked her head at an angle. “Say goodbye, Clem.”
Clementine stood up, her tail wagging.
“Bye, Clementine. You take care of your mommy for me.” He waited, hoping she’d turn the phone around again.
“You tell Jace your mommy doesn’t need anyone to take care of her, Clementine.” And the phone went dark.
He hoped she’d show up at Frank’s. She didn’t.
He hoped she’d come over to his apartment. He didn’t sleep for shit.
He and Hank put in a solid three hours at the studio the next morning, but no Krystal.
Luke’s luncheon was a hit. He didn’t mind the sample of cologne and aftershave they gave him, and the dollars were impressive enough, but Luke asked for a few days to mull over their offer.
