Authors: Carlene Love Flores
“What’s wrong?”
Lucky asked as he angled himself toward her.
“Nothing.”
“Trista…”
“I’ll be dropping you off at the studio
tonight.
Jaxon’s gonna meet us
there.
You’ll get to see where I spend
most hours of my day.”
She should have sounded happier at the idea,
but she was temporarily on hiatus from that emotion.
Lucky surprised her with a bit of
intuition.
“Jaxon’s wife is really that
jealous of you?”
“She’s not his wife, and yes.”
She hadn’t meant to speak through her
teeth.
It wasn’t Lucky’s fault he’d
picked up on the ridiculous situation.
“For good reason?”
“No.”
Her word bit with the crispness of a tart Granny Smith.
“So where do you stay, when you’re not at
the studio, working all the time?”
“I rent a cottage in the back of this
really nice couple’s main house.”
Why did he look stunned?
Did he imagine her living in a fancy
apartment or condo somewhere on the beach or in the city?
But the next words out of his mouth cleared
it up.
He had other concerns.
“Is it very far from Jaxon’s place?”
“About twenty miles
south of him.
Why?”
She had to ask because in all honesty, she
couldn’t get a read on why he sounded so nervous.
“I
uh, I just thought that if you don’t live too far away from the office I’ve got
to be at tomorrow morning for my meeting, maybe I could crash at your place
instead.”
The thought of hosting him herself had
never even entered her mind.
And it was
a very tempting thought.
But
Lucky
was Jaxon’s blood, his family.
Something her best friend had little of.
“I think Jaxon is looking forward to having
you.
And Maryella,
too.”
“No, you’re right.”
He looked down to his lap.
“I shouldn’t have imposed myself on you like
that.
I just thought…”
Great, he thought she was blowing him
off.
“No, it’s not that.
It’s just that I doubt I’ll even sleep at
home tonight or tomorrow night.
That’s
how much work I’ve probably got piled up on my desk.
This tour starts in two weeks.
I’m most likely studio-bound and looking to
be eating lots of cup of noodle soups until we hit the road.
I’m happy to give you my key but it will be a
much nicer stay if you go to Jaxon’s.
That’s all.
I didn’t mean that I
didn’t want you to stay with me.”
Now there was a look she knew
well—offended—droopy eyes and the deep outlet of heavy breath that always went
along with it in the male species.
She
realized that for all intents and purposes, she’d just told him that she wanted
him around but just didn’t have the time for him.
* * * *
Man, he’d just overstepped a boundary and
landed his boot in a big ole dish of humble pie.
Not that it was her fault, but she didn’t
have three days’ time to give him?
After
all they’d been through and shared so far?
That stung.
He’d never mention
this to Trista, but to make this trip on her schedule, he’d left his dad and
uncle in a bind to finish a custom furniture job he’d started.
One he knew his family was counting on to
hopefully boost their upcoming holiday orders.
Otherwise he’d have finished it to his standard then made his own way
out west.
The ’84 GMC truck he’d just
rebuilt and planned to drive sat parked in the driveway of his small house,
probably covered in a nice coat of fuzzy, yellow pollen and sawdust.
Not a good thing for the baby blue paint job
he’d stayed up late to finish before heading to the city to meet Trista.
The truth of it though was none of that
had mattered to him once he’d seen her and then found out how much she really
needed someone to be with her.
He shook
his head and cracked his knuckles, sure of some things and completely out of
ideas for others.
So asking to stay with her had
bombed.
Good thing he hadn’t acted on
last night’s crazy idea to offer to fly her back to Tennessee once this tour
was over.
Again, none of this was her
fault.
It was her life and she hadn’t
kept it a secret from him.
He told
himself that a few more times.
She reached a dainty finger out and
pushed play on her CD player.
The music
was slow, layered with beats and sounds he hadn’t heard mixed together in that
way before.
The singer began with a low
moan.
Trista began to sing along
quietly.
“
Hurt,
you know its name.
Burn, you’ve touched
the flame.
When I’m inside you, your
flesh I’ll claim.
You drive me insane.
Insane.
”
Then a pounding surge of bass guitar thudded through the words, drowning
out the singer’s deep voice.
“Is that Jaxon’s band?” he asked her,
impressed if it was.
Talking about music
with her was better than sitting there in silence.
Even if it was about
Jaxon’s music.
“Mm-hmm.
Yeah, it’s on the new album.
Do you like it?”
He chose his words carefully.
“It’s very…erotic.”
“I know.
It’s Jaxon.”
Would all their conversations about his
cousin lead back to his sexual prowess?
Lord he hoped not.
“It’s different.
Kind of depressing though,” he said.
“I guess you’re right.
He’s got some depressing things to get off
his chest.”
“Like this Vangie woman?”
He watched her face closely, curious to
see if the mention of Vangie’s name irritated her as much as talk of Jaxon did
to him.
Her jaw shifted and he had his
answer.
“Yeah,” she said.
“You don’t bad talk her very much, but it
sounds like you have good reason to.”
“Well, I don’t see how it would make a
difference.
I’ve realized the best thing
I can do is stay away, keep my distance as much as possible.
It makes things easier for Jaxon.”
“How is
that possible?
It seems
like it would be pretty hard.”
“It’s harder when we’re on the road
because we’re kind of stuck together.
But when we’re at home, I just do my thing at the studio during the
day.
He’s usually there at night.
We live far enough apart so that we don’t run
into each other very often.
But yeah, on
tour it gets interesting.”
“So what happens?”
Aside from having his pride bruised at her
brushoff, she fascinated him.
Maybe he’d
hear something to help him understand her world better.
He hunkered down into the passenger seat and
listened as she did her best to explain the very intricate logistics of how she
and Jaxon stayed away from each other while working together, often in close
quarters while on tour.
* * * *
“Trista, I hate to say this because it sounds
like this Vangie has hurt you, but there’s got to be something Jaxon sees to
make him stay with her.
Don’t you
think?”
Okay, so Lucky was gonna have to find out
the hard way about Vangie just like her buddy, Ben, had.
Poor
Benny,
abandoned to do the web-mastering all on his own while she was gone.
Vangie better not have insulted a single hair
on his sweet shaggy head since she’d been gone.
But to answer Lucky…she remembered how
Stefan had summed it up for her one night after a gig Vangie had attended on
the last tour.
Trista had been hanging
out in Stefan’s room, trying to stay out of the picture as much as possible
when he said to her that he hated to be so vulgar, but to put it plain and
simple, Jaxon was in it for the sex.
Well, Stefan had said pussy, finger spelling it over his shiny black
guitar, but she hated that word.
At least Stefan had been honest.
Ever since that night, she’d learned that
no matter how close she felt to Jaxon, or how strong the urge was to make him
see the truth in Vangie, it just wasn’t her place.
Another sound piece of advice Stefan had
shared that night at seeing her hammering frustration was, “You’re not the one
fucking her so why do you care?”
Geez, she missed him too.
And he was right.
She didn’t have to go home to Vangie each
night so it really wasn’t her problem.
The theory was solid, except for the fact that she wasn’t a man who
could easily make sense of such a simple analogy without feelings getting in
the way.
Trista was a woman with a
bleeding heart and Jaxon was like her big brother.
But, he would have to see the light on
his own.
She hoped he’d make it out soon
or this might really have to be her last tour as his assistant.
Vangie’s denying him this trip had put them
right back in the round.
Jaxon was tied
to that slobbering, crazed bull and she just didn’t know how much longer she
could keep on chasing him around—his personal rodeo clown.
She looked over at Lucky and realized
there was no way she could say Stefan’s words to him.
“You know, some women just know how to
break a man.
You should ask Stefan if
you get to meet him.
He’s got some
pretty good theories on that.”
She
didn’t go any further.
Lucky was right,
she wasn’t going to put Vangie down.
The
woman did that well enough on her own.
“So, where and when does this tour
start?” Lucky asked, a little skeptical, in her opinion.
“April 3
rd
,
New York City.
We start
out east and then make our way back to the west coast.”
“Oh.”
“
You thinking
about coming to some shows?”
She didn’t
try to hide the excitement that bounced through the baby curls at the crown of
her head.
They danced along her hairline
as she perked up.
He coughed.
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“You should.
I’d love to show you off to the guys.
And I think you might actually enjoy the
music,” she said, not understanding the wrinkles creasing his forehead.
Was she losing her touch on reading the male
species?
A new song began.
Another splash of Jaxon’s baritone voice and
guitar mixed with the low electric strum of Stefan’s bass.
“I don’t know.
This stuff is really…erotic.
I mean, it makes me want to, you know…”
“What?
Have sex?” she asked him, taking a second to fully glance his way, her
shoulder hiked up just enough to look flirty and innocent as it brushed up
against the underside of her chin.
He chuckled.
“Yeah.
Do they realize that’s what their music
inspires in people?”
“What do you think?”
“Yes.”
His answer had been short.
He
shied away from her gaze.
She couldn’t help but taunt him.
“You’re wrong.”
“How so?”
“Because, they don’t
want you to go out and have sex.
They want you to come to their show and be
moved to something more than whatever it was you did that day or whatever it
was you were thinking about when you parked your car.
They want you to feel it deeper, more
intense.
Be more appreciative and aware
of what you’re doing and with
who
.”
She bit her lips and smiled as Lucky
swallowed and blinked, and then again.