True for You (17 page)
“How
do you know all of that?” Jackson asks, and Everett starts
laughing.
“Seems
like Bliss has been keeping some secrets from you,” his dad
says.
I
keep my gaze on Jackson, hoping he understands. “We met when I
was a little girl. I was only five and my parents called me June, not
Bliss. Actually, I was their June Bliss, but when I got placed in
foster care, the lady asked me what I wanted to be called and I
picked Bliss.” I swallow, unable to vocalize how I couldn’t
bear the thought of anyone calling me June or worse—Junie, like
my
mami
had.
“You’re
Junie.” His eyes widen. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It
was so long ago. I didn’t think you’d remember, and you
never did, not once while we were on tour.”
“That’s
not all she kept from you.”
“I
don’t care.” He strokes the side of my face, astonishment
shining in his dark blue eyes. “I remember you. We played
together, and I sang to you.”
“You’ll
care about this.” Everett takes Kathy to the nearest chair and
helps her into it. “I hired her to keep an eye on you. She was
my second choice if you and Violet didn’t work out. I made a
promise to her daddy to look out for her, and I kept that promise by
allowing her to go off with you. I figured you would do something
really stupid, but marrying her…well, that shocked the hell
out of me.”
“That’s
not true,” I whisper, but Jackson’s looking at me, his
jaw hard.
“Did
he know who you were when he hired you?”
“Yes,
but let me explain.”
“No
buts, no ifs… just answer the question.”
I
can’t lie anymore. So I tell the only thing I’d been
keeping back from him. “Your dad knew exactly who I was when he
hired me. He made a promise to my daddy, and he said he had to keep
it. So he created an intern position for me, paid me, and I got to
come on tour, but only for the US part. Then I was expected to find
another job, because he’d fulfilled his duty.”
“That’s
it?”
“That’s
it.” I hold out my hand. “Your dad was supposed to have
come and gotten me when I was little. He was the one named as
guardian, but he told the lawyer that he didn’t want me.”
I look at Everett, but he doesn’t even flinch. Nothing bothers
him, and he cares for no one but himself. “I heard you talking
to her. I heard you tell her to put me in the system.”
“I
couldn’t keep you, and risk the home visits. Not with her crazy
ass,” Everett points out. Kathy whimpers, but I don’t
feel sorry for either of them, only the boy standing beside me. “Both
of you would have been taken from here. So I had to make a choice. I
kept my son.”
“I’m
no son of yours.” Jackson’s hand slips into mine. “Let’s
go, Bliss.”
I
look at his hand, and then up at him. “Where?”
“Home.”
Jackson
Bliss
curls up next to me in the limo, her curvy body my anchor in the
storm, but my mind is reeling. She’s the little girl that my
memory would every so often interject into my present.
“Should’ve
known it was you,” I say.
“Why’s
that?”
“Those
nasty hot snaps you love to eat. Dead giveaway.”
She
giggles. “I promise not to make you eat them.” Her
laughter dies down. “I thought I’d lost you in there.”
“You
can’t get rid of me that easily.” But for a moment, I had
been lost. I thought Everett had polluted my relationship with Bliss.
I’d thought he’d been the mastermind behind everything.
“But what about us getting through security?”
“Do
you really think you’re the only one who doesn’t like
your dad?” The limo stops at a red light. “Security was
more than happy to let us take his car for a ride.”
Figures.
“I think he actually believes his own lies.”
“What
will you do now?”
“He’s
not the only producer or agent in town.” But he does own my
name, and his record label owns the rights to all the songs I’ve
performed in the past. “Tomorrow, I’m hiring my own
lawyers and getting rid of him.”
“Maybe
you could talk to Violet and ask her what she did.”
The
pang of hearing my ex’s name doesn’t come, and I pull
Bliss into my lap, hooking a finger under her chin. “You
wouldn’t mind?”
“She’s
my friend, and she’s not in love with you. I’m not
worried at all,” Bliss says confidently.
“I’ll
call her, but you’ll be with me when I do it. No secrets and no
feeling like she is your competition,” I say, kissing her
lightly on the lips.
“I
hope I didn’t embarrass you too much tonight, with what I said
and what I’m wearing.”
I
give her a look. “One—I should be down on my knees
thanking God you didn’t walk out of there, with how you were
treated. Two—I don’t give a damn about what you wear. If
you like it, then I like it. Three—you met my family, right? We
hit every crazy stick on the insane tree when God kicked the first
Morgan out of Heaven.”
“Then
our kids have no hope.” She glances away. “I mean…
you know what I mean.”
Unsure
of what to say, I simply hold her. Having kids with her hasn’t
crossed my mind, not once. Yeah, we’re married, and yeah I’m
committed to this working, but kids… I don’t know
anymore.
Our
driver takes us to the bottom floor of a parking garage. I help Bliss
out and guide her to the elevator. While we were at my parents’
house, I had our stuff delivered here and the fridge stocked, not
that I planned on leaving her alone like I had before. But I did plan
on keeping her in bed for the next month or two.
The
elevator doors open, and we step right into my apartment. After the
doors close, I punch in a code. No one, beyond emergency services, is
getting in my penthouse tonight.
Taking
her on the grand tour, I show her the highlights: the kitchen, master
bedroom, theater room, and my music studio.
Bliss
walks to the wall of windows in the living room, and I tug at my tie,
loosening it. Her hips sway from side to side, inviting me to come
closer.
“How high are
we?”
“Fifty
stories. It was scaled back from seventy and a bunch of penthouses
were built instead.”
She
tosses me a grin over her shoulder. “I like the view.”
Taking
in her curvy form, or rather what little I can see of it, I smile.
“So do I.”
“But
you’re not looking at—” Her smile slips a little.
“Thank you.”
I
join her, brushing a thick fall of hair over her shoulder. She shifts
to one side, and her shirt gaps, giving me a tantalizing view of skin
and the barest hint of cleavage. But after what Everett revealed, I’m
not sure I should touch her.
“Since
Everett didn’t apologize, I will for him. I’m sorry he
let you down. I’m sorry he abandoned you, instead of protecting
you.”
“It’s
not your fault. Besides, before the Coreys, it wasn’t that bad.
Most people were nice, even if they didn’t really want me.”
“I
really want you.” I trace the line of her collarbone, and her
breath catches. “I’ve wanted you ever since you
introduced yourself to me on the tour.”
“Don’t
say things you don’t mean.”
My
arms go around her, and I dip my head to whisper in her ear. “I
had so many fantasies about you riding me while wearing those
glasses.” My hands move to cup her breasts. “And these…”
I rub my thumbs over the nipples, and they harden at once. “Perfect
tits from heaven. They always made me hard when I’d see them
bounce.”
“But
I wore a bra, even when I went to sleep,” she whispers.
“Still
bounced when you ran or walked. I wasn’t the only one who
noticed either. Every guy on that tour liked watching you, thinking
about you, and wishing they could get their—”
“Stop!”
She laughs. “I’m not every man’s fantasy. I didn’t
have a bunch of guys hitting on me every second of every day.”
“Damn
girl, you’re ruining my seductive spell.”
She
leans back, her hands covering mine and dragging them down to her
waist, where she wraps my arms around her. “I don’t care
about any guy but you.”
“Did
you have fantasies about me?”
“Yes.”
She gulps the word.
“Really?”
“But
they’re nothing compared to yours.”
“I
bet they were really naughty.” I nibble on the top of her ear.
“Don’t be shy, baby. Tell me.”
“Mostly
I thought about kissing you.”
She’s
right. Her fantasies are nothing like mine. Sure, mine involved
kissing… but I bet my favorite guitar that hers did not
involve her mouth around my dick. “Mostly, huh?”
“I
can’t,” she says. “You’ll think it’s
stupid.”
I
turn her to face me. “I won’t ever think you’re
stupid. Silly, shy, sweet, sexy, and smart—those are the words
that describe you. You’re not allowed to think you’re
stupid, or ever say that word again.”
Her
eyes light up, behind her glasses, like I’ve given her the most
precious gift in the world. “I won’t.”
Please
let me be worthy of that gift. “
C’mon,
tell me about the rest.”
“I
imagined you up on stage, singing to me, and not just any song, but a
song you wrote just for me, like Violet did for Cole.”
“Why
do you want us to be like them?” I can’t help but ask.
I’ve never written a song for any girl, not even Violet. While
we were on tour I’d considered it, but the words and the melody
never came, and now I know why.
It’s
all because of the girl standing before me.
“I
don’t. I just want someone to love me like that,” she
says. “I know that’s probably not what you want to hear,
but it’s the truth.”
I
stare at her, nonplussed.
She
sighs, and then extricates herself out of my arms. “It’s
okay, Jackson. I’m not going to hold you to it—that’s
why it’s called a fantasy.”
“Where
are you going?”
“To
bed.”
“Aren’t
you hungry?”
“I
ate at your parents’ house, before the questions started.
Someone handed me a plate of food and took it away when I was done.”
I
watch her walk away, to our bedroom, and open the door. She gives me
one last, lingering look and still I stand there, like a jackass.
Maybe that’s what I should have been named, instead of Jackson,
because I sure as hell live up to it often enough.
The
door shuts behind her, and I lower my head to the glass, pounding my
fist on the window a couple of times in frustration.
My
phone buzzes and I take it out of my pocket, glancing at the screen.
It’s an email, not a text from Everett. I open it and read the
first few paragraphs.
“Shit.”
He’s
let me go, and so has his record label.
Money’s
not a problem, but my ego sure as hell is. I had wanted to be the one
to break things off, to email him and say we’re done, but
because of tonight’s spectacle over my marriage… none of
that happened.
Knowing
Everett, he’s already put out the word that no one touches my
music, or me, and whether I like it or not, people in this industry
will listen to him.
I toss the phone
across the room. It hits the sofa with a small thud and falls to the
floor.
I
was born to make music, and if I can’t make music, then what
can I do?
Bliss
I
wake up the next morning, with Jackson sprawled out beside me. He’s
still in his clothes from last night. His face is turned toward me,
and my heart jumps. He looks innocent lying there, with his flushed
cheeks and full lips.
His
tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip, and I grow damp at the
sight.
Trying
not to wake him, I ease out of bed, but before I can get very far, an
arm winds around me.
“Ahh!”
I tumble into the bed, Jackson rolling me under him.
“Morning,
beautiful.”
“Morning.”
He
settles against me, his hard body a delicious weight against mine.
“Tonight, I want to take you shopping.”