Fearless For Love (Lovelly #3) (30 page)

“YOU READY?” HARRINGTON asks, massaging my shoulder. We’re standing in the parking lot in front of Club Royale. In just a few hours, I’ll be on stage, playing the biggest show of my life. I’m tired as hell, too, since Harrington’s sexual appetite is insatiable. He even wanted to “save water for the plants and third-world children” this morning, after already rocking my world all night long. Not that I’m complaining, though every inch of my body is sore.

I see Jarod and the rest of the gang hauling equipment inside.

After Wednesday’s little fiasco, I’m nervous to go over there, to be in the same room as Jarod.

“Hey, look at me.” Harrington turns me around so I’m facing him. “You’re going to be great.”

“I know,” I say, making light of my overreacting nerves.

He smirks. “Who’s cocky now?”

“I learn from the best.”

“So, I was thinking . . .” He tilts his head to the side. “Tonight, after this big gig of yours . . . how about we celebrate?”

“Hmm . . .” I wrap my arms around his neck. “What do you have in mind?”

“It’ll be a surprise. Don’t bother changing after the show, either.”

I laugh, my head thrown back. “Yeah? Do your plans include the horizontal Tango?”

He leans forward, pressing his mouth to mine. “They might. Later. After my surprise.”

A cold gust of wind whooshes over us and I shiver, kissing him back. “I like the sound of that.”

He spins me around so my back is to the car. He studies me. “I can’t wait until all of this is over and done with.”

“All of this” being Stamos. He hasn’t told me all the details, because he can’t, but I know the FBI is close to bringing him down. And I couldn’t agree more. Though part of me does wonder how long it will be before another assignment pulls him away from me.

Something vibrates between us.

“Your phone’s ringing,” I say, letting my arms drop to my sides as he takes a step back.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and looks at it. His eyebrows knit together, forming a deep
V
.

I rub my hand over his arm, worried. “What’s wrong?”

He waves vaguely at his phone. “Harris is calling me.”

Why is that a bad thing, I wonder. But I don’t ask the question. He slips his phone back into his pocket, and although his expression has returned to its usual smirk, I know something is bothering him. And I’m pretty sure it has to do with the phone call.

“So, I need to get in there . . .” I say, and then jerk my chin toward his phone. “Why don’t you take care of whatever that is?”

“Okay.” His response is immediate, and I know my theory is correct.

“See you tonight?”

“You bet my left nut I’ll be there.”

I laugh and pat his chest. “Aww, such a romantic.”

He winks. He leans in and gives me a quick, sweet kiss on the cheek before moving to the driver’s side door and getting in.

I step back and watch him drive out of the parking lot before I turn and make my way to the side entrance we’re supposed to use. Tom’s waiting for me when I get there.

I groan and walk toward him.

“Listen, Jess, I just wanted to apologize for the other day, for Jarod. I had a feeling something like this was going to happen. That’s why I didn’t want you in the band at first. I saw the way he looked at you during your auditions, and I really hoped that my intuition was wrong. That things could have worked out better than this.”

“So, wait, this is my fault?” I spit. I’d really started to like Tom, too.

“No. Not at all. I’m not saying that at all, Jessica.” He tries to backpedal, holding his hand up.

“Then what are you saying?”

“Just that . . . maybe tonight’s performance should be your last with The Torque.”

I take a step back, feeling like I’ve been slapped in the face. “You’re firing me?”

“No. God no! You’re the best drummer we’ve ever had, but . . . I just, with Jarod being the way he is . . .” He looks over his shoulder at the closed door, conflicting emotions warring in his face. And suddenly, I realize what he’s trying to say. He cares. About me. And he’s not sure he can guarantee Jarod won’t try something again.

“I get it.”

“You do?” His surprise is evident. He wasn’t expecting me to understand.

I nod. It feels like my heart’s been ripped apart, but I do get it.

“Thanks, Jessica,” he says, and he has the good grace to at least look sheepish as he holds the door to the club open for me. “You have no idea how sorry I am that this didn’t work out. But hey, let’s at least make tonight the best it can be. And if you ever need a reference, I’ll be happy to provide you with one.”

I nod, too angry and hurt and numb to say anything, and follow him inside.

The things that go into prepping for a show are more complicated than people think. Between setting up the equipment, multiple sound-checks, coordinating the lighting and stage effects, and generally gearing myself up to perform, I barely even notice the vicious looks from Jarod. If this is my last chance to play with the band, then I’m not going to let anything get in the way. I’m going to live out my dream for every second I have left.

And since I’m the only girl, I was given my own private quarters to change in, adjacent to the guys’ room and linked through a door. I was told my official dress for the event would be waiting in that room, and after finishing the last round of sound-checks, I hurry to go change.

I step inside and look around, feeling a tad giddy as my gaze travels over the dressing table with its bright lights and an armoire-looking cabinet in the corner. I pull open the armoire’s double doors and see a clear plastic garment bag hanging inside. I pluck it off the hanger and read the little note tacked to the outside. “Wear me.”

Carefully, I unravel the bag and stare at the outfit inside, wide-eyed.

Black, skin-tight leather pants with interlooping quarter-inch belts shimmer at me in greeting. Above that is a black crop-top so short I’m certain it will cover just my boobs, leaving everything else bare, and a matching full-sleeve, cropped leather jacket. I pick up the jacket and turn it around, noticing the sequin drumsticks on the back. Well, I guess there’s that at least.

It’s no worse than some of the outfits I’ve had to wear at Blue Tango, I suppose, but then I look at the shoes paired with my outfit.

Holy heels, Batman.

Tossing aside the outfit, I crouch down and pick up the heels. They’re a good four to six, hell, maybe eight inches high. I know I’m short compared to the guys in the band, but seriously? I bet I could be eye to eye with Harrington in these babies. But unfortunately, I have no experience walking in anything even remotely close to these and drumming in them would be completely impractical. I guess I’ll have to stick with my black army boots and call it good.

A knock on the door gets my attention and I stand, still holding the beautifully ridiculous shoes. Before I can answer it, the door opens and in walks Cat and Fisher.

“Hey, hey!” Cat hollers, strolling in like she owns the place. “Damn, girl,” she says, whistling as she twirls. “Rolling with the big boys, I see.” She pulls me into a hug.

When she lets go, Fisher gives me a quick hug.

“Hey there, stranger,” says a new voice, and my heart seizes. I look past Fisher and see Vincent standing in the doorway, grinning widely.

“Vincent!” I squeal, shoving the heels into Cat’s arms and running at him. I throw myself into his arms, giving him the biggest hug ever as he laughs and spins me around.

“Hey, Jessy-girl. I’ve missed you.” His hold around me is so wonderful, familiar, and comforting, that it’s hard not to feel instantly at home. “You doing okay?” he whispers into my ear, so only I can hear him.

I nod and he kisses the crown of my forehead. I tilt my head up and smile at him.

“God, I’ve missed you so much, dorkface,” I say, grinning so wide I think my face might split in two. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Of course! I couldn’t miss your big moment. Though, I won’t be able to stay as long as I hoped. I have to be back in Pine Cove tomorrow. This lawyer—a Gary DiNera?—called me out of the blue, saying he had information that could help me win my case and asking if I could meet him. I hope you’re not mad?” He looks at me apologetically and my heart clenches. I’m disappointed, of course, that I won’t get to see my best friend for long, but I could never be mad at him for doing what he has to to save his brothers. I wonder if Harrington is somehow behind this? He did say he’d try to help . . . I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

I realize Vincent’s still waiting for me to answer, and I swat him on the chest with a playful pout. “Of course I’m not mad! But I am sad I won’t get to see you much.”

“I know, I am too. We have so much to catch up on. But right now, you need to get ready to go out there and kick some ass.” He ruffles my hair as he steps back, giving me a smile that I know he means to be encouraging but that’s a little sad around the edges. “I’ll catch up with you again afterward, okay?”

I nod, and he and Fisher leave the room.

“Break a leg, Jessy-girl,” Vincent calls as the door shuts behind him.

“So, how can I help?” Cat asks, clapping her hands, a wicked grin on her face.

I sigh and lift the hanger with clothes. “Where do you want to start?”

Thirty minutes and a full hairspray bottle later, I’m given permission to look at myself in the mirror. When I do, my breath catches in my throat. I don’t even recognize myself. But dare I say it? I like what I see. The green of my eyes pops against the dark, smoky makeup Cat expertly applied, and my hair is teased and pinned, equal parts badass and sexy. And then there’s the outfit. Holy smokes. The girl staring back at me from the mirror looks like a freaking rockstar.

“You like?” Cat asks, her hip jutted to the side as she assesses my reflection over my shoulder.

I turn around and my grin gets crazy wide. “
Love
.” I hug Cat. “Thank you. Seriously.”

“You’re a natural beauty. I simply made you extraordinary.” Cat shrugs. “But okay. Okay. Enough of the sappy. You ready to break a leg?”

I nod and let out a heavy breath. “Yep. I should probably go check in with the guys.”

“Okay. I’ll leave you to it, then.” She pulls me in and hugs me hard. “Can’t wait to see you kick ass out there. I’m so proud of you.”

And then she’s gone, disappearing in signature Cat fashion before I can even think of a response. A minute later, I take a deep breath and knock on the door connecting my room to the guys’. I plaster on a big bright smile. When the door opens, I expect to be greeted with glares and snarls, but . . . that’s not what happens at all.

“Hey!” Jarod says as he swings the door open, his face vibrant. “Look who’s here!” He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me to him.

“Holy shit.” Joel gets to his feet. “You are so fucking hot.”

I blush and laugh nervously. They seem a bit different tonight. It’s like they’ve done a complete one-eighty in the last few hours. Their eyes are glazed, and their movements are a bit more loose than they were the last time I saw them.

I see empty beer bottles on the coffee table, and it suddenly all makes sense. They’re
drunk
. No wonder.

“Tonight is going to be amazing, boys . . .” Jarod says, letting me go and returning to the couch against the wall. They start to get loud and obnoxious. I notice Tom’s watching me keenly, more so than usual. I give him a tentative smile as I listen to the Jarod’s pep talk. Once we’ve gone over the set list one last time, the boys decide they want to go meet their fans. They tell me to take a few minutes and to join them in fifteen.

They leave in a rowdy bunch, except for Tom, who lingers in the middle of the room. I turn to him, raising my eyebrows expectantly.

“Here,” he says, handing me my drumsticks. His response is cold and distant, like it used to be when I first joined the band.

“Thanks.” I take them from his grasp, but he doesn’t let go. I look up at him, my forehead creased.

I meet his gaze head-on, but he turns away quickly, reluctantly letting go.