Nashville SEAL: Jameson: Nashville SEALs (15 page)

“A limo?”

“Yea. Riding in style now. I’ll just have the driver drop you off like he did Jameson earlier.”

“Okay. I’ll take you up on that. Now, don’t tell him!”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Liz.” He whistled for the limo, brought her inside the gated area and helped her into the back seat. “He’s in a foul mood. I’m glad you’re here. I think he misses you something terrible.”

“I’ll see if I can fix that. Thanks, Thomas.” She was about to put the window up when she asked as an afterthought. “Hey, how did he do?”

“They loved him.”

“Did he get to meet some record people?”

“There’s a whole a list of those who want to meet with him tomorrow morning, so no late night parties, okay? But yea, he did good. Lots of people are looking at him now.”

Lizzie was heartened on the one hand, and on the other, was mildly apprehensive. The screaming crowds, security, gated access, and riding in a limo, were all things far distant from their current lifestyle. To hear he was also in a bad mood concerned her.

The hotel entrance was well-lit. As the stretch vehicle pulled up, an attendant opened her door. She gave the driver ten dollars, slung her satchel over her shoulder again and asked if he could double check the room number. He verified it was the same as what Jameson had given her.

She’d worn a long dress and boots, which she hoped she’d be able to get out of very soon. She entered the lobby women’s bathroom and removed all her underwear to give Jameson a little extra thrill, stuffing her panties and bra into her carry-on. She wondered if she’d have the courage to show up at his doorway wearing just the boots. She hoped the halls were devoid of activity so she could pull this off.

She pushed the button for the eleventh floor and anxiously waited. When doors opened on Jameson’s floor, she tiptoed down the hall until she found his suite. The doors were ajar. Nice music was coming from inside and she could smell scented candles.

Dammit, Thomas told him!

She looked both ways and heard no one coming and the elevator was silent. She’d come this far.
I’m in it all the way.
She dropped her dress at her ankles and stepped toward the door. Never in her life had she stood naked in a motel hallway. Never had she approached Jameson, risking exposure from strangers. It started to make her feel hot. Maybe he expected her all right, but he would never expect this. She pushed one of the doors aside and surveyed the room, full of lit candles, and Jameson’s backside to her. Leaning to the right, she saw a naked woman sipping champagne, smiling at her husband. He took a step back.

Jameson had taken
a drink at the bar when the limo had dropped him off. What he really needed was a good night’s sleep, since he’d gotten up so early in San Diego to make the early flight out. The time zone difference was getting to him. But first, he wanted to settle his nerves, and perhaps give a call to Lizzie.

He didn’t want to wake her, so only tried one time. When she didn’t pick up, he left a quick, “I love you,” message.

He was approached by an attractive brunette.

“You up for a party, Cowboy?”

Her eyes were a bit too hard, and not honest. He figured her for a working girl. “Sorry, not interested.”

She persisted trying to touch his ear and it irritated him.

“Fuck off and leave me alone!”

What was he going to say to Thomas in the morning? To the record producer who wanted to talk about picking up some of his songs? And he had meetings with two other representatives of the big houses who nabbed him while he was storming out.

He was lonely. He was missing his family. And he felt betrayed by his best friend. He’d wished now that he’d never come.

On his way out of the bar, he checked his cell phone and saw there was still no message back from Lizzie. He rode the elevator to his floor, walked down the hallway and came upon the suite’s double doors. He hadn’t thought he’d left music on, but there definitely was some wafting through the doors. He inserted his key and stepped inside.

At first, he wasn’t sure he’d walked into the correct room and started to turn, but he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and stopped. An attractive brunette had been soaking in the jetted tub. When she saw him, she stood, soap bubbles sluicing down her slim body, as she stepped out of the tub and without drying off, picked up a champagne flute and put it to her lips.

The room was full of lit candles. He saw rose petals spread over the floor, making a trail to the large king-sized bed beyond. The lady didn’t wait for him to figure it out. She headed right for him, holding out the flute filled with bubbly.

“I’m your little bonus present, Jameson. Here to welcome you to the good life you deserve and to help you celebrate your success. I just
love
your music. Just love it.”

Her shapely form was hard not to stare at, but he stopped her. He’d heard this line every night when he was single and took in a stray female who tracked him down.

“Just hold it right there, missy. This isn’t my thing. Who sent you?”

“I sent myself. I followed the limo.”

Jameson cursed under his breath.

“We’ve met before. Actually, we’ve
done
this before, and here in Nashville too. No reason to be nervous or shy. We had ourselves one hell of a time back then. I’m lookin’ to double that luck tonight.” She licked her lips and sipped from her flute while twisting one of her nipples with her thumb and two fingers on her other hand. She started to sashay over to him.

Jameson backed up and away from her, toward the doorway entrance of his suite. And when he did so, he stepped into something, stepped onto a person’s small foot. He heard the sorrowful moan behind him. Thinking he’d really hurt someone with his clumsiness, he turned and came face-to-face with his wife, also wearing nothing at all.

‡

L
izzie’s stomach churned
and her vision started to blacken on the periphery, threatening a black out. Her heart thumped like a kettledrum, making her fingers tingle. Her cheeks flushed but not from lust, from anger, which grew into a monster completely overtaking her. Summoning all the strength she had inside to tear her eyes off the beautiful woman with the flat tummy and flawless white flesh, her store-bought tits perfectly formed and perky, she finally looked into the eyes of the man she thought she’d loved.

And now hated with everything she could muster. She hated how she must have been used. She’d trusted him, brought him into their lives—into Charlotte’s life! What had she done? How could she have been such a poor judge of character to let this sorry excuse for a man share her bed and her passion? To share Charlotte?

She realized she was grinding her teeth together when he looked shock and came for her.

“Get away from me!” Her voice screamed all the pain and betrayal she could not bring herself to say in words.

“Lizzie—this isn’t what it seems.” He was going to give her some long excuse but there wasn’t anything from this man’s mouth she ever wanted to hear again.

“Apparently I’m the one who owes
you
an apology. I didn’t mean to upset your evening. I’ll just get dressed and exit out of your life, Jameson. I had no idea you had need of a surrogate to—”

“Listen to me, Lizzie. I didn’t bring her!”

Lizzie noticed the brunette had her arms crossed, rolling her eyes, sipping on her champagne. She was the kind of woman who would take the detritus from a man who only had his worst part to share. She’d fuck him all night long without thinking anything of his commitment to his wife and the mother of his child. A cold bitch she wanted to kick right in the stomach.

But then she realized she too was bare, completely bare, standing in her ridiculous new red boots. The scent from the candles was getting to her nose and she sneezed, and then just let the tears flow. She dropped her bag, and rummaged through it for her dress, pulling it over her without putting on her underwear.

Jameson had her in his arms. “Lizzie. This is all a mistake. This is
me
. I would never do this to you.”

She didn’t want to hear it. The anger and resentment, the years of raising Charlotte on her own, telling herself some day he’d come back and make things right when it was time, all the control she’d exerted over her emotions flew out the window. She struggled to wiggle free, getting her right arm loose as he tried to hold her to his chest. Angling back, she swung, catching him across the cheek with a satisfying slap.

The brunette puckered her pouty lips and produced deep worry lines at her forehead.

Jameson let Lizzie go, rocked back in his boots, stunned. Staggering, he fell back into an overstuffed chair behind him.

“Don’t you ever contact me again. How dare you do this to Charlotte!”

“But I didn’t. Honest. You have to believe me.”

“I’ve believed you all right. Just look at what I get for my troubles. I can’t even describe how I feel. You bring a slut between us, some bimbo with tits—”

“Hey! That’s offensive,” the brunette said, her hand on her hip.

Both Jameson and Lizzie yelled back at her, “Shut up!”

Her eyebrows rose, then she turned slowly, revealing a just as impressive backside, and, approaching the bed, sat on the edge and crossed her legs to wait.

Lizzie picked up her satchel and held her arm out when Jameson got up again and began to approach her. “I said don’t touch me or I’ll scream and cause a scene. Stay away!”

“Honey, you’ve got this all wrong. I didn’t do this.
She
did.”

“And how did she get the key? Obviously she expected something from you. Why would someone just break into a stranger’s room light candles and leave fuckin’ rose petals everywhere—”

“We’re old friends, sweetie,” the brunette said coyly.

“Oh! So this is an old flame? Perfect! I hope you two have one helluva night.”

“No. This is not what it looks like. I got back and she was just here. Honest. I don’t even remember meeting her before—”

Lizzie could see he regretted the misstep. He stopped, his face drawn and obviously in pain, but she didn’t want to see that. Nothing could match the betrayal she felt toward him.

“You know, Thomas told me what a foul mood you were in. Now I fully understand. You had to just go fuck something to feel human. That’s what was wrong. And here I’ve been feeding that addiction.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks, as she let her anger fly. She didn’t care what she looked like or even if she made any sense. “You gave me all this bullshit about—”

“Just hold on a minute, Lizzie. This isn’t right.” He pointed to the brunette. “You get the fuck out of my room or I’ll call the cops myself. You have no business—”

Lizzie stopped him. “Don’t bother. She looks expensive. You might as well get your money’s worth.”

Lizzie turned and left the suite. She could hear the two of them arguing and then heard the sounds of Jameson running down the hallway after her.

“Don’t go. Lizzie, I can explain.” He reached out to grab her arm and she withdrew.

“I said don’t touch me. I never want to see you again. When you get home, I’ll be gone. And don’t try to find me, either.”

The elevator doors opened. “I can’t let you go! You can’t do this.” He grabbed her, trying to stop her fingers from scratching his face. She kneed him in the groin and as he doubled over, she pushed him to the floor like she’d been taught in her classes. She slapped the elevator button with the palm of her hand and the doors reopened. Her last sight of him was lying on his side, crying like a fuckin’ baby.

She stood tall, inhaled, waited for the doors to close, separating them, and then she burst into tears.

‡

“L
isten, sweetie, I
left my card—” the brunette started to say, pointing to the coffee table.

“Get the fuck out!” He pushed her shoulder through the doorway and slammed the doors.

He’d been trying to get Lizzie on her cell, not paying attention to the lady who was taking her sweet ass time in getting dressed and babbling on about one of her ex-husbands. As if he wanted to hear anything about her. As if he even cared she was a human being. He didn’t want to have anything to remember her by, not her history, not her body, not what she’d tried to do and he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about her sex life or what they’d done before. He just wanted her gone.