My Once and Future Love (30 page)

Read My Once and Future Love Online

Authors: Carla Krae

Tags: #my once and future love, #contemporary romance, #jacob and beth

“I just wondered if it’s what you hoped
for.”

“I know. I think it helped that it didn’t
come instantly. I wasn’t ready for the commitment at eighteen.”

Or twenty. But I wasn’t going to touch that
subject.

Once we got inside the venue, it was
go-go-go. Sacramento was the first gig. The band did some press
while the tech guys set up, then sound checks started. They dialed
it in some, did a half-hour rehearsal, tweaked it some more, and
broke for lunch. I got their stage clothes in the dressing rooms
and made sure Jacob’s rider was adhered to. The show would start at
seven o’clock, no warm-up act.

If I’d forgotten how kinetic Jacob was
before, I’d never forget again. My feet hurt by six from staying at
his side. I finally got to sit while he showered, then watched him
get ready. He wore leather pants and a sleeveless vintage tee.
Concentrating on his image in the mirror, he applied black
eyeliner, then spiked his hair straight up.

“Crunchy,” I teased.

“Hey, they like it.”

“Whatever sells tickets.”

Once he was finally satisfied, he stood and
turned to face me. “Well?”

Gorgeous as ever. I gave a thumb’s up, not
trusting my voice.

He kissed my cheek on the way out. “Thanks,
love.”

I felt his breath on my skin more than his
lips, but it still left me stunned. I shook my head clear and ran
after him to watch from the wings.

The band played their intro to his hit
single. He waited, bouncing on his toes, until a second before the
lyrics started, then ran out, grabbed the microphone, and instantly
had the crowd in his hand.

My god…

He’d always been a good performer, but
now…the confidence, the control, the
charisma
. They ate him
up. Women screamed and tried to grab his feet when he neared the
stage’s edge.

It was the first time I heard the whole
album.

You know how women think it’d be sweet or
romantic to have a song written about them? Not so much in real
life. Not when I was the villain of half the set. My body debated
between throwing up and fleeing in tears. If any of his fans found
out I was the girl in those break-up songs, I couldn’t show my face
in public.

He sang for over an hour and they demanded an
encore. He ran off the stage and grabbed me in a sweaty hug. “Do
you hear that?”

“It’s deafening. Go! Give them what they
want.” What was with all the touching?

They screamed when he came back. I watched
him say something to Bob, then he approached the audience. “Okay,
okay. Two more songs.” They groaned en masse. “I’m outta songs,
guys! Seriously, you’ve been beautiful. Goodnight, Sacramento.
Thank you!”

The band left after the encore, running for
the dressing rooms whooping and hollering over their success.
People were backstage to talk to them, and it was close to an hour
before they got a chance to change clothes. We had to wait another
hour after that before we could get to the bus. The fangirls had
swarmed the parking lot.

The first concert going so well was a good
omen.

We hit San Francisco, Portland, Seattle,
crossed down to Vegas, over to Denver, to Kansas City, up to
Chicago… If I thought he carried grudges, I’d swear Jacob hired me
in revenge. The album was stuck in my head by now and half the
songs eviscerated a girl that sounded a lot like me. Could I take
two more months of this?

By the time we reached Philly, then NYC, the
shows were selling out, it was two days before Christmas and
Jacob’s voice was getting a little rough. I did some research on
the Web for coping remedies and made a note in my planner to
schedule time for vocal warm-ups before the remaining shows. He
didn’t balk at my suggestions until I sent him out in the cold with
a scarf.

“These things look stupid.”

“No they don’t, and keeping your throat warm
will help protect your voice.”

“Couldn’t you find one in black?”

“Navy blue was all I had. Do you see me with
the time to shop?”

“Alright, alright…” He wrapped it around his
neck. “Happy, boss?”

“Thank you. You have the drops in your
pocket?”

“Yeah.”

I picked a speck of lint off his sweater.
“You drank all the honey-lime tea?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“She says Happy Christmas, by the way, and
she misses you. She wants you to call.”

“I know, I know.”

I smiled at his pout. “Aaron! Get out of that
bathroom. I told you five minutes and that was six minutes
ago.”

****

Jacob watched Beth run off to boss his mates
around. She’d settled into the role of den mother quite nicely.
They were in New York until the twenty-sixth and even had hotel
rooms instead of the bus. He was looking forward to the brief break
and a little present shopping. After performing on GMA this
morning, they’d get a little personal time.

This tour wouldn’t have gone smoothly without
her. She was amazing in a crisis. He didn’t know how she kept
everything straight even with the assistance of her devices. Didn’t
have to ask for what he needed half the time—the thought popped in
his head and she’d be placing whatever it was in his hand or on his
dressing table.

She was a different girl than before, though.
Harder, sadder, keeping even more to herself. Her hair was always
tied back in a braid or bun and she never wore make-up anymore
except lip balm. A part of her spark was missing and he wondered
what killed it.

‘Course, they weren’t thick as thieves now,
so it wasn’t his place to ask. But he wondered.

He sang three songs at the show, signed a few
autographs, and got back in the limo. They were dropped off at the
hotel, a few hours to kill before needing to be at the venue for
the last concert of the year. He grabbed a hat in his suite and
told her to leave her coat on.

“Why?”

“We’re going back out.”

“But--”

“’Tis the holiday season.”

She sighed. “Oh, fine…”

“Where’s your Christmas spirit, pet?” He
tried hard to remember not to call her ‘love’ since she wasn’t his
anymore.

“Back in California where it’s warm,” she
grumbled.

“Lightweight.”

“Freak.”

They bumped shoulders. “That’s Mister Freak
to you.”

“Am I on the clock right now?”

“Not as such.”

“Then there’s no ‘mister’.”

“Cheeky wench.”

She grinned. “Have to keep you in line
somehow.” They reached the street. “Do you know where you’re
going?”

“No, but I bet if I tell a cabby I want to go
shopping that’ll work.”

“You live on the edge, Jacob.”

It did work and he found a street to browse.
When her teeth started chattering, he bought her a hot chocolate.
Seeing a shoe store, he had an idea.

“Uh, men’s shoes are on that side,
Jacob.”

“I know.” He walked over to the shelves of
women’s boots.

“Am I about to learn something I don’t want
to know?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. You need
warmer boots.”

“I’m fine.”

He arched a brow. “No you’re not. The one
thing you’ve been complaining about for a week is the cold. Warmer
feet will aid the rest of you.”

“I can buy my own shoes.”


Consider them a Christmas gift
.”

She glared at him, stubborn as always, but he
didn’t budge. She sighed and walked to the display of fur-lined
shoes.

“This store is too expensive.”

“Uh, have you seen my house?”

“But--”

“Just try something on, Beth.”

She grumbled, grabbed a random pair, and
asked the saleswoman for her size. Then she sat down to take her
trainers off. He took the chair next to her.

“Cute.”

“What?”

“Christmas socks.” They were red with a
snowman printed on the front.

“I’m festive,” she said, getting defensive.
“Don’t look at my feet.”

“Why not? Seen them before.” Kissed them,
nibbled on her toes…

“They’re too big.”

“You’re daft. They are not.”

“I wear an eight most of the time. They’re
big.” She tucked her feet under the chair so he couldn’t see
them.

“Beth, you’re five foot eight--”

“Seven.”

He rolled his eyes. Always interrupting him.
“Five foot seven. If you had a petite foot, you’d topple over.”

“Oh, sure, throw physics at me.” She pouted.
“Stop trying to make me feel better.”

“Were you always this difficult?” he teased.
The answer was yes, but he’d always found it a good challenge
before.

“Jerk.

The banter was fun. He didn’t know he missed
it until he had it again.

“What comes after the tour?” she asked. The
clerk wasn’t back, yet.

“If you don’t know, I don’t. We might release
another single, maybe make a video. Award shows come up. Maybe
we’ll tour overseas next year. I don’t know.”

“Wow. How do you handle never knowing what’s
next? Wait, you thrive on the unknown.”

She looked genuinely disturbed by the idea.
He shrugged. Life always worked out, so he just…lived.

But she was a control nut. She excelled once
she figured out how the game worked. The more she could form the
world to her preferences, the more comfortable she was. With her
worrying over all those tedious little details, he didn’t have to.
The freedom from being chewed out by his people was nice.

The saleswoman finally arrived with the
shoebox. Beth had chosen a basic black mid-height boot with a fuzzy
lining. She slipped her snowman-decorated feet into them and zipped
up the sides. A few laps around the store later, she still looked
undecided.

“Do they fit or not?” he asked.

“They’re okay.”

He looked at the shelf and picked up a
sheepskin design that looked like a glorified slipper and tossed it
to her.

“Maybe that for your downtime. They’re
squishy.”

“Squishy? And I don’t have down time.”

“Soft. You know. Plush.”

“Ah.” She ran her fingers through the wool
lining.

“We sell a lot of Uggs,” the clerk said.

Beth handed the shoe to the clerk. “I’ll try
it if you have my size. And miss, we have limited time, so if you
could be prompt…”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Get both if you want,” he told Beth.

“I’m not letting you buy two pairs.”

“It’s Christmas. Let me be generous.”

She started taking off the black boots. “I
don’t need these. I just didn’t wear my other pair today because I
thought I’d be indoors.”


Fine
. I won’t argue anymore.” Damn
independent woman.

She liked the Uggs—a ridiculous name—so he
handed the clerk his credit card before Beth had a chance to block
him.

“Hungry?” he asked as they left.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

****

We ate room service back at the hotel for
lunch, considering the time. I didn’t want to take the risk of
getting caught out too late by a traffic problem.

We were sharing his suite. By the time he
hired me, it was too late to add a room to the reservation on this
floor, so I was sleeping on the sofa.

He’d offered to share the enormous bed, but
unh-uh…I wasn’t touching that idea with a ten-foot pole. It was one
thing to bunk together for a night as kids. Entirely another to
share a bed for a few days now we had history. Three weeks of
cramped quarters and annoying male habits, and I still wanted
him.

Stupid brain.

The PA experience was weird. On the one hand,
Jacob and all his people were my boss. On the other, as long as my
request was on Jacob’s behalf, when I said jump, people asked how
high. A happy star was a repeat visitor, so that meant I was always
greeted with a smile, even if it was insincere. The power felt
good. Too bad I was still essentially a middle-man.

But the suite was nice. Gorgeous, even, with
everything we could want for a comfortable few days. The bath tub
was separate from the shower, and huge. Jacob slept on
thousand-thread-count sheets and thick terry robes were
complimentary to take home. Don’t know about him, but I was keeping
mine. And because of the season, the usual flowers had been
replaced with a gift basket of Christmas cookies and gourmet hot
chocolate. Loved these people!

A lot of gifts for Jacob came with this stop
in NYC, so I was tasked with shipping them home. He’d decide what
to keep later.

After another sold-out concert complete with
holiday song encore, I asked Jacob if I could take the bathroom for
a while. He was too amped to sleep, yet, so he left for one of the
other’s rooms and gave me some privacy. I sunk into the big tub
with a sigh and closed my eyes.

Bliss
.

 

Chapter Four

Don’t know how long I slept in there, but I
woke from a door closing. I reached for my watch. Midnight. There
were voices—Jacob’s and…a
girl
?

Oh, god, don’t do this to me.

Where the hell did he find a girl and why was
she
here
? I got out of the bath to tell him he needed to
sleep alone, drying off and grabbing a robe first, when I heard
giggling, and then a moan. A
female
moan.

Oh. My. God
.

I couldn’t leave the bathroom without going
through his room.

The sounds became more passionate. I pleaded
with the universe to kill me now. Just kill me. If there was any
more clear way to show he was over me, I didn’t know what it
was.

I listened to him get her off twice. He’d
brought home a screamer.

That son of a bitch.

It hurt, and that made me angry. I had no
hold over him anymore, no commitment, promises, or even mutual
feelings, apparently. He was my boss, so why
shouldn’t
he
enjoy pleasurable company for a night?

Yeah, Beth, why shouldn’t he? You let him
go.

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