9781618857958KissMeLikeYouMeanItLeveyNC (5 page)

“We
should sit at different tables and socialize since we’re leaving in the
morning.” Garrick’s suggestion made sense.

Jackson
watched Jimmy bypass the healthy bar, heading right for the grill line. There
were more options than he thought. Breakfast this morning was damn good, he
headed for the main line spying pizza. Shea trailed after him while Garrick
followed Jimmy. With their front man’s new eating plan, he’d cut out junk in
order to bulk up some. There was a running bet to see how long he could go
without beer. The fact there wasn’t any—at least not an alcoholic one—had them
all laughing at his outraged face in the base
px
. So
far he’d won twenty bucks.

He
waited his turn and plied his plate with a two small pizzas, fist bumped Shea and
headed over to the grill to nab a grilled chicken sandwich. Easing around the
buffet style dining facility, after grabbing a can of soda, he headed over to a
table with only one empty seat. “Mind if I join you?”

“Hell
no.” Sergeant Sanders moved over. Jackson grinned and set his food down,
sliding into his seat. He acknowledged his new dinner mate’s before bowing his
head for a few seconds in thanks.

“I
don’t think I’ve ever seen a rocker pray before eating.” The table caste
glances past him to his bandmates who were in conversation and eating.

“Sometimes
we surprise people.” Jackson grinned at the cute African American woman beside
him.

“I’ve
never been to a rock show before. To think, I’ve been missing out all this
time. You play one of the guitars.”

“Yeah,
I normally play bass but sometimes I switch up with Garrick and play lead.
Jimmy plays rhythm. All of us can play more than one guitar and other
instruments.”

“Oh.
That’s complicated. I didn’t know there were different guitars.”

“Jimmy
and Garrick play the high notes and all the fancy showboating. While the bass
and drums bring all the sounds together. I enjoy the low notes and the
responsibility that comes with playing the low end.”

“That’s
cool. I never thought about the individual parts.” She engaged in eating for a few
seconds.

“So
long have you all been in the army?”

“Two
years,” a soldier at the end of the table answered. Jackson couldn’t see his
name.

“Seven,”
the man next to him replied, and dug into his food. Jackson looked over at the
young woman thinking less than five for sure. Since she couldn’t be a day over
twenty-one.

“Six
years,” she answered. Damn he was wrong. He cocked his head to the side trying to
figure out how she looked so young and shook his head.

“I’m
grateful for the sacrifice you make for me every day. Thank you.” He dug into
his pizza.

“How
was the flight?” Jackson didn’t catch the name and didn’t want to rudely stare
to search it out, figuring the speaker would introduce himself at some point,
or not.

“Combat
landing was surprising and harsh, felt almost like I was in a simulated video
game. They should warn a man that the plane is going to spiral down into this
tight ass valley. I swear Garrick was praying and Jimmy was all
fuck yeah,
damn adrenalin junkie. Shea’s
face had a green sheen for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah,
that can be harsh if you’ve never experienced before. I barfed during my first
ride. Wearing protective gear was pretty cool though.”

“For
a second there the thought crossed my mind too. I’m sorry I didn’t get your
name.”

“Staff
Sergeant Grant.”

“Well,
the plane for sure doesn’t have a bed to crash in or a wet bar. But all in all it
wasn’t a bad flight.” Jackson looked down the table and chuckled.

“Or
attractive flight attendants,” Staff Sergeant Grant interjected.

“I’m
trying really hard to not be my normal—I’m trying to be respectful here, at
least more so than back home. Comments like that make it hard.” Jackson
polished off his food.

“Do
you have time for a quick interview?” Staff Sergeant Lopez, the newest addition
to the table asked. The rest of the table all waited on his answer.

Jackson
noticed she didn’t have a plate loaded with food, but a pen, pad of paper and
digital camcorder. “Need me to get the rest of the band?”

“There
are dozens of band interviews and podcasts but the only ones of you available
on tape or quoted are drunken, boasting womanizing behavior and crude words.”

“Well,
ma’am, seems you already know all there is about me, so let me get my bro’s and
you can—”

“I
wasn’t finished speaking, merely pausing for a moment. What I’m, what women are
really interested in is why you act like a tool when there is clearly so much
more to you than you let on.”

Jackson
fought the tic in his jaw and tamed it. He cut her questioning off with a cool
gaze and leaned over the table. “What women want is my dick, at every signing,
at every concert, when I’m off tour, eating with the band or friends at a
restaurant or any other public venue. There is no escape. I give them what they
want—an illusion and nothing else. I don’t have the time or energy to let them
steal another piece of me.”

“What
happened to the teenage heartthrob who ran five star restaurants and cared more
about his family than leaving it behind for the rock star life?”

Her
knowledge of him showed she did her homework. “That heartthrob grew the fuck
up, still runs five star restaurants and lives, breathes and rocks the rock star
life. I never do shit halfway, sweetheart.”

The
tension around them was palpable. The others he was enjoying lunch with weren’t
amused with her tactics of extracting information. He noticed she outranked
them and guessed at their silence. No matter, he could handle a little thing
like her. Big brown eyes with a compact body and hair he could fist his hands
in. Her plump mouth would fit nicely around his dick while he was punching in
her mouth, effectively shutting her up. With what was going on with Garrick’s
sister, he didn’t need a man basher venting her anger on him. “So have you
always been a man basher?” Her sudden intake of breath pleased him. She did
call him a tool for that he’d give her what she assumed.

She
scoffed. “I’ve been a fan of your music for years. Sue me if I want to know
what makes the man hiding behind a mask tick. Don’t get your boxers in a twist.
I won’t publish anything you don’t want known.”

“Darlin’
I don’t wear boxers but thanks for the worry. Publish what you want, I’ve never
given a rat’s ass about the media, I won’t begin now.” They hadn’t respected
his need for privacy after the deaths of his grandmother and mother. He
promised himself he wouldn’t allow them to see the important aspects of his
life. Instead he played into what they wanted to see. The woman beside him was
smart. He could nearly see the gears turn in her head as she focused to find
common ground.

“How
is Garrick handling the media flurry centered around his sister?”

“That
topic of conversation is closed. He doesn’t know and we, the band, want him
left in the dark until we’re headed home.” He leveled his gaze on her brooking
no argument.

“All
right, he won’t hear a thing from me. See, there is more to you than you let on.”

“If
you got a firsthand view of his temper you’d want to preserve your sanity and
patience.” He let his gaze drift over her immaculate hair and makeup.

“One
more personal question.” She put the tip of the pen in her mouth. After raking
her gaze down him once again, she leaned away from his personal space. Her
shrewd eyes not missing a thing.

Jackson
sighed. “Shoot.”

“I
read an article saying you quit cooking but never explained why.”

She
hit him with a question he didn’t see coming a mile away. He saw genuine curiosity
in her eyes and decided to answer her question truthfully. She deserved an
honest answer for the years of service she’d put in. Any other woman he’d have
carted off and fucked to shut her up, reporter or not. A male, he’d have
steamrolled over with his fists. “The most beautiful woman in the world died and
took my heart with her. Every time I step into a kitchen the memories are too
much to handle.”

“You
should show this side more, you’re hot when you’re real, likeable even. Thank
you for allowing me to get personal with you.”

“No
problem. Any other questions?”

“Hmm.
What are Crimson Rage’s plans after returning to the states?”

“A
much needed break. No, we plan on hitting the studio and finishing the work on
our next album. Shea and Garrick are traveling to recruit some talent for their
label.”

“Concerts?”

“We
have a few festivals lined up in late spring and during the summer. Who knows
what we’ll add later on down the line. We have a manager who arranges our
appearances. We just show up where we’re told.” Jackson grinned. Across the
room he noticed Jimmy and a female companion leaving together. He ran a hand
through his hair and sighed.

“What?
You think that because we’re over here we can’t appreciate male perfection?”

“Uh.”
Suddenly uncomfortable with how forward she became he took a step back. At any
other time he might take her up on her blatant unspoken offer. His mind remained
on the woman residing in his home halfway around the world. The last thing he
wanted right then was a piece of forgettable ass. Out of the corner of his eye,
Garrick and Shea headed toward him.

“Saved
by your friends. Getting to know the real you was a genuine pleasure. I know I
come off as a bit harsh but I’ve never been one to candy-coat shit. Ask my friends
who are going to lay into me after you walk away.”

“Well
you did monopolize all of my time here.” Jackson turned his attention to the
others at the table. “It was a pleasure meeting all of you. I can’t say this
enough. I truly appreciate your sacrifice. He shook each individual’s hand.

“
Yo
, we have to get going. Met a few special op’s guys who
invited us to hang out for a bit.”

“All
right. Just finishing up here anyhow. Staff Sergeant Lopez. Be easy on the next
guy you interview. Send the write up to my personal email and I’ll approve it
for distribution.” He pulled out a business card from his wallet and extended
his hand for her to take. Jackson grabbed his trash and headed toward the
receptacle with his friends, ignoring their questioning gazes.

“I
need to stop by our lodgings for a few minutes. Can ya’ll wait for me for a few?
I promise I won’t be long,” he asked while donning his fleece-lined hoodie. He
could get used to the warmer climate during the day, but the chilly weather
surprised him. Flying over he assumed they’d be in the desert not in barren
mountains.

“What’s
more important than a secret hidey spot with booze? C’mon man, with Jimmy getting
laid, leaves more for the three of us.”

“Jimmy
won’t take too long. Well then again he might. Who knows? I’m sure the ladies
will get him home safe and sound. Trust me, I need a few minutes nothing more.”

“I
thought the net was out.”

“Fuck
can a man masturbate in private for a fucking minute. That crazy chick
interviewing me made me hard as steel.”

“Damn,
bro. TMI, but go take care of that shit, just hurry up.” Garrick chuckled.

The
long walk down Command Drive did nothing to diminish the wood he packed. Jackson
gave his boys the five finger salute, careful to not insult any other passersby.
When they made it to their communal hooch, he went to the room he shared with
Jimmy, while the other two waited outside, shooting the shit.

He
knew they wouldn’t come in and disrupt him so he had a few moments to himself.
Once inside he quickly booted up his laptop and signed into his security link
to check on Carlie, wanting to make sure she was safe.

The
perfect princess lay in the middle of his bed surrounded by junk food and a
carton of ice cream. He noticed a pizza box on the center of the table and
boxes of snack cakes. Damn, she was worse off than he expected. She’d become a
carnivore again. Worry for her set in. “Carlie, babe, what are you doing to
yourself?” he said to himself, knowing she couldn’t hear him.

He
quickly sent an email to his maid,
Rosalia
, to come and
stock his house with fresh vegetables and a variety of fruit, Carlie’s favorite
foods. When he finished the list, he hit send. Rosa would take care of her
broken heart for now.

Next,
he sent a quick email to his family’s team of lawyers, giving the name of the
magazine and the photographer. He detailed precise instructions to buy the
photo rights at whatever cost, including orders to blackball the sleaze from
being able to photograph a grain of salt, even if he had to buy the magazine
himself. All streaming links, all magazine stands, and any copies left he
wanted bought and in his lawyer’s possession to be burned. His personal lawyer
replied and promised to have the situation taken care of by the time he
returned to the states.

He
sighed in relief and dialed Jordan. The little shit let the call go to
voicemail. “Jordan, I’m not mad that you opened up my home to Carlie, but damn
you could’ve told me. I trust you to keep her privacy to the two of us. I’ll
keep track of her from over here until my return. You keep the hound dogs off
her scent.” He hit end and stuffed his phone back in his pocket.