“Sounds great. Like my mom’s.”
“You’re not from around here, are you?” More gray than blue, her eyes held the same sparkle as Jet’s.
“No, a little town in Pennsylvania. I miss it.” More than she’d realized. She longed to see her mom again.
“I wonder which is worse sometimes, Jersey or California. But I miss home too. We had great times there. Got into some trouble too. Jeff always kept us in line.”
“He was your older brother?”
“The oldest. He started the band. Made Jerry focus on the music, always pushing him to make it better and better. When Jeff died, I worried Jerry might follow in his footsteps.” Staring at nothing, she inhaled and seemed to shake it off with an easy grin. “If it weren’t for the band, Jerry would’ve had a very different life.”
Billie chuckled. “Normal?”
“No. He had a way of finding trouble. Or it found him. Girls, drugs…” She held up a hand. “I know, those things are everywhere no matter what. But his music’s more important to him, you know?”
Billie grinned. She knew. She wanted Jet to remember it too.
A timer dinged, and Sue took a dish from the oven and headed to the dining room. “Let’s go round up the boys.”
When she called them, all three begged for a few minutes, but she held steadfast. “Pause it and go back to it when we’re done.” To Billie, she said, “Sit anywhere.”
Billie waited for Jet, who wrestled Kyle, giggling, to the table.
Sue set glasses of milk in front of each plate. Sinking to her chair, she scooped helpings. “So Billie, what do you do?”
“I work for
Strung Out
, the music magazine.”
Sue froze. “You’re a reporter?” Her gaze flew to Jet. “She’s
that
reporter? Who writes the blog?”
“Cool.” Jeremy’s gaze scanned Billie again.
“Yeah.” Jet took the spoon from her hand. “That reporter.”
A sickly look came over Sue as she glanced at Billie.
“I’m off the clock today. No notepad, no hidden microphones.” She hoped that would reassure his sister, who obviously wouldn’t have spoken so freely in the kitchen had she known Billie’s occupation.
Sue gave a wan smile. “Good.”
The boys interrogated Billie throughout dinner--which musicians she’d interviewed, which concerts she’d attended. Sue stayed silent except for reminding her sons to use their napkins and not speak with food in their mouths.
When Billie offered to clean up after the meal, Sue hastily refused. “I’ll take care of it. You relax.”
She wished Sue would relax. “I promise you, I won’t write of anything that occurred today.”
Sue nodded. “I’m going to make some tea. Want some?”
Billie glanced at Jet. “No thanks.”
Motioning her toward the family room, Sue went to the kitchen.
Billie strolled to the sofa.
Jet nudged the younger boy. “Let Billie sit there.”
When he whined, Jet grimaced and jerked his head. Kyle swung to Jet’s other side.
Patting the sofa, he said, “Be my good luck charm.”
“You do need one.” Giggling, she sat.
“I was ahead before dinner.”
Billie patted his leg. “I’m sure you were.”
He bumped his shoulder into hers. “I suppose you can do better?”
“Anyone can.” Jeremy handed her the control.
The boys encouraged her on as she played. Her scores climbed, and she rose from the sofa, putting her body into the moves. The song ended, and she lifted her arms victoriously. Jet clapped and whistled as his nephews whooped.
When she plopped on the sofa next to Jet, he threw his arm around her. “Pretty impressive.”
So was this. Reality struck with a vengeance. Her heart ached for what could never be. “We should be getting back.” Everett would be pitching a fit by now with no blog post for three days. No way would she share this.
He turned to her. “You sure?” Sadness dimmed his smile.
“You don’t want Stu tracking us down, do you?” The thought gave her the willies. She wouldn’t put it past him to swoop in, bang on his sister’s door.
Sue cackled. “You nailed him. I wish you’d fire the creep.”
Jet kissed his sister’s cheek. “Nice to see you.”
“And it wasn’t even a holiday.” Winking, she followed them to the door. “Nice to meet you, Billie.”
While Jet tousled the boys’ hair, Sue surprised Billie with a hug. “He seems happy.”
Unsure how to respond, Billie nodded, and was even more surprised when Jet’s arms circled her waist from behind. “Time to go.”
“When are you coming back?” Kyle tugged on his arm.
“Depends on the tour. Soon, I hope.”
Hearing the word
tour
, Billie tensed, glanced back at him in question.
Waving, he pulled her toward the Wrangler. Driving away, they waved to his family.
A million questions swirled through her head. When had he planned a tour? When did he plan on telling her?
She scrunched down in her seat. Probably hadn’t because she’d be leaving soon, and out of his life.
He did seem happier than when she met him, she realized. If she had anything to do with it, then she’d cherish their time together. Every expression, every movement she committed to memory. She wanted to remember this day.
* * * *
Smooth, asshole. Way to break the news.
Jet’s mind raced. How to fix this?
After a few minutes, he turned down the radio. “So Stu’s arranging a tour. Did I tell you?” He shot her a tentative smile.
“No, you didn’t.” Ducking her head, she avoided his gaze. “I’m glad. You need to get out in front of audiences again. It’ll feed your creative energy.”
Whew. She got it. “Yeah, after the concert that night, I realized how much I missed it.” He rubbed her leg.
The tension eased in her leg, and in their conversation. She made small talk, and he reveled in the normalness of it all. Laughter came easily, and he gestured as he spoke, leaning toward her again and again.
When road signs indicated the Pacific Coast Highway ahead, his heart sank. If only they could have stayed longer. They’d already been away most of the day. A few more hours wouldn’t have hurt. He wasn’t ready to go back yet. To let her go.
He turned onto a small road.
“Where are we going?”she asked.
“I have to make a pit stop.” He pulled off into a field along a stand of trees, stopped and unfastened his seat belt in one swift action, unable to wait one more second to kiss her.
“Afraid the paparazzi will--”
His hands along her jaw, his mouth silenced hers. His breath left him, and couldn’t catch up to his racing pulse.
Fingers in his hair, she held him like a cyclone raged around them. It might have, for all he knew--all his senses focused on her breath, her warm body against hers, how right she felt.
She pressed toward him but sighed in frustration.
“What’s the matter?”
“Your Jeep seems to think I’m in danger.” Her hand splayed toward the seat belt, which had tightened, locking her in.
“Maybe you are,” he teased.
“It won’t let me loose.”
“I kind of like it.” Angling toward her, he delved his fingers past her buttons and slid his other hand up her skirt while his tongue explored past the edge of her bra.
She clutched his hair. “I’d like it better if I could participate.”
“In a little while,” he mumbled, moving lower. Right now, he liked that she couldn’t move. He eased her panties down her legs.
When he probed, her sighs came faster as his tongue teased, and he worked her like a maestro, building the pressure to its crescendo. She strained against the seat belt, shuddering.
Primal need obliterated all thought. Before he knew it, he was out of the Jeep, opening her door, fumbling her out of the seat belt, pulling her legs around him. He thrust inside her with one deep plunge, his heart beating wildly. She clung to him, rocking against his movements, until explosions circled outward from his core. His shuddering body pressed against hers, arms firmly holding her in place.
When his breaths steadied, his lips took hers in a lazy, lingering kiss. “This is more real to me than anything.”
The sky had darkened to indigo, and only distant lights shone. He wished he could see her face better. She was too quiet.
Approaching headlights made him retract his wish. “Uh-oh.”
He set her on the seat and zipped up while she hastily straightened her skirt.
The car slowed to a stop. “Everything all right over there?”
Jet held up a hand. “Fine, thanks.” Shutting her door, he jogged to the driver’s side and climbed in.
Backing out, he burst into laughter. Until he realized she wasn’t laughing.
She turned to him. “Did you…”
“What?” He steered onto the main road and grasped her knee.
“It felt a little too…natural.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
Shit.
He’d been in such a rush. He glanced at her as he drove, hoping she wouldn’t hate him.
Her eyes held fear. “You didn’t use anything?”
“I didn’t have anything with me.” Dread stiffened his spine. She hated him.
Her voice sounded small. “Oh.”
At least she didn’t scream. He could smooth this over. “It’s just once, right? And it was so quick…” Hell, what had he done? Blinded by the need to feel himself inside her, he hadn’t thought. Not like him at all.
Shit.
“Right.” Pensive, she gazed out the window.
After shifting, he grasped the inside of her leg. Damn, she seemed terrified. “Hey, don’t worry. All right? Today was amazing.” The truth of those words hit him. It had been a day he’d hold special. And he meant what he told her earlier: the universe threw at you whatever you were ready for. With Billie, he felt ready for anything, no fear.
His warm touch apparently eased her tension. “It was.” She rested her hand on his leg.
He laid his atop hers with a squeeze.
The rest of the drive, they talked about everything: his sister and her kids, her mom and brother, how tough Jeff’s loss had been on him, how the band fell apart after that.
“But Chalmer seemed like a good addition,” she said. “He was no replacement for Jeff, of course, but audiences responded to his antics, though sometimes over the top.”
Jet winced. “He couldn’t stand anyone else to be in the spotlight. He wanted more special effects to dazzle the audience. I only wanted to dazzle them with our music.”
“Did you try compromising with him?”
“I couldn’t deal with him.”
“He always struck me as being equal parts irritation and inspiration. But you two made a good team, like Lennon and McCartney. He said once he wanted to collaborate on songs more.”
“The CD we made together, he put me through hell.”
“But the songs turned out great. It went platinum, right?”
“Mmm.” How had they gotten on this track? Today of all days?
“It might be worth exploring. You’ve both mellowed since then.”
Near the gate, he slowed. “You’re still pushing.” Chuckling, he clicked the remote, and it slowly opened.
“Just speaking my mind.” Her tone was matter-of-fact.
When he stopped in front of the garage, he heaved a heavy sigh. “I should check in, but maybe afterward, we could--”
The spotlight glared, blinding them. Stu strode toward them. “Where the fuck have you been?”
Damn.
Jet yanked the keys from the ignition. “Out.” None of his fucking business.
Stu stepped back as he got out. “While you were ‘out,’ a situation arose. We have a lot to discuss.”
Billie got out and stood uncertainly.
“It can wait.” Jet pushed past him, wanting to obliterate him from sight.
Stu followed. “No, in fact, it can’t. It turns out Ashley lied--she has a kid, and
Entertainment Weekly
showed videos of her pole dancing in some strip club.” He slapped his forehead. “Ay-yi-yi. You tell these bitches things like this will show up, but they lie anyway.”
“Maybe she needed the money,” he ventured. He could care less.
“I don’t fucking care. She needed to tell the truth so we don’t look like fools.” Stu stumbled to a stop when Jet halted and waved to Billie. He couldn’t even say a proper goodnight.
Rock Bottom
was ruining his life.
* * * *
Warmth flooded Billie. Returning his wave, she headed for the cottage. Inside, she remembered her cell. She’d switched it off earlier. Four voice mails and six texts.
Everett’s impatient tone asked what the hell was going on there, why wasn’t she picking up? Next, he asked more loudly why she hadn’t posted a blog as promised, even after other media exposed Ashley’s past.
The third voice mail sent a shock through her. “You are to get your things together and get the fuck out of there today. Do you hear me? The show’s over. I swear to God, Billie, if you… Just do it. I’ll call as soon as I book a flight.”
Predictably, the next message contained her flight information. “Don’t miss it,” he’d warned.
Checking the clock, she had just under two hours to get to the airport. She called a cab, threw her things into her suitcase and hastily scanned the room. Leaving her bag by the door, she ran to Cindy. “Where’s Jet? I have to see him.”
Cindy inclined her head toward the office. “In with Stu. But they can’t be disturbed.”
A woman’s voice mixed with Jet’s and Stu’s.
“Who’s in there?” she wondered aloud.
Before Cindy could answer, Julie said, “Uncle Stu, you promised I’d get maximum exposure. So what if Jet didn’t eliminate Ashley? I still win, right?”
“She’s Stu’s niece?” So the show had been rigged from the start. Billie wasn’t sure what to think. All that talk from Jet about finding his soul mate--was that all a ruse? If that was false, what about everything else he said to her? Had the entire thing been a joke to him? Including her?
The buzzer at the gate sounded.
“Oh, damn. My taxi’s here.”
With a sigh, Cindy buzzed the cab through.
“I have to go. Will you tell him…” Floundering, she backed toward the door.
Outside, the driver sounded the horn.
“Dammit.” She grabbed her bag, hurried out and bribed the driver with an extra forty dollars if he broke every speed limit.
As the plane lifted off, the full force of what happened hit worse than the pressure inside the cabin. She’d left Jet without saying goodbye. She had no phone number, no way to reach him. Now that she knew the truth, did she want to?