Enticing Interlude (Tempest #2) (3 page)

Suddenly, the front door of the apartment opened, breaking the spell. Everyone jumped as it slammed hard against the wall.

My eyes widened in recognition when I turned and saw him enter the apartment.

“Timmons is a bitch!” Bryan Jackson, the handsome lead guitarist of Tempest stormed into the room, ramming a key card into the back pocket of his jeans as he entered. “A
royal fucking bitch
.” He froze the moment he saw me, his questioning gaze pausing briefly on me before going to Lace. I knew a bit about him from the articles I’d read and also from what Lace had mentioned in rehab, but obviously Bryan hadn’t known that Carter and I were moving in.

Lip trembling, my little guy dropped the controller. I could tell he was trying real hard not to cry. He didn’t do well around angry males, especially not after the recent run in with his father.

“Mommy,” he called, hurrying to my side and ducking behind me.

“Lace?” Bryan questioned at almost the same time.

She carefully set aside her controller and stood. She shook her head at Bryan, her eyes sliding from him to my son. “I’m sorry, Carter. Bryan’s really a nice guy once you get to know him. Don’t worry. He’s not mad at you.” She took a step toward me, but her gaze remained on Carter. “Could you give me and your mom a second so I could talk to her and Bryan?”

Carter slowly blinked up at Lace, his blue eyes brimming with wariness. “Ok,” he agreed after a moment, then looked at me. “Can I go lie down, Mommy? Please. I’m tired.”

“Sure kiddo.” I glanced at Lace. “I’ll just get him settled in and be right back.”

“Your bedroom’s just down there, past the kitchen.” Lace pointed in the direction I needed to go. I picked up Carter’s backpack and my duffle. We passed a galley style kitchen on our left and then turned right down a narrow hall.

The bedroom was styled in the same earth toned monochromatic color scheme as the rest of the apartment. The only splash of color came from a welcome basket that sat on top of the mahogany dresser. Lego box sets, comics, Vancouver guidebooks, and useful toiletries overflowed its confines.

Touched by Lace’s thoughtfulness, I felt the tension inside of me loosen and my lips curved into a small smile as I drew back the beige cotton comforter. When I turned back around, Carter had already removed his shoes. He immediately climbed into the spot I had uncovered. I pulled the blanket up to his chin. His head on the pillow, he yawned so big I heard his jaw pop. I smoothed his hair from his sleepy eyes and bent down to kiss his soft cheek.

“Night,” he mumbled.

“It’s still day here, kiddo. But have a good nap. I love you bunches.”

“Love you, too.” He turned over on his side and whispered, “Don’t worry, Mommy.”

I paused, giving him a reassuring smile before closing the door. He knew me so well. Worry had riddled my insides with holes. This move was a big change for us, but one that I felt was necessary given the circumstances. Without my grandmother as a buffer, Richard had gotten increasingly threatening. And there was also my stepmother to consider. Though she hadn’t shown up at Meemaw’s funeral, Evelyn was always a menacing threat lurking in the background.

I hadn’t felt safe living in Orlando any longer.

Two sets of eyes landed on me as soon as I reentered the living room. Bryan moved his beer from his right hand to his left shaking my hand as Lace stood to make introductions.

“Nice to meet you,” I said softly and took a step back. Light brown faux-hawk, piercing grey green eyes. Bryan Jackson was a good looking guy and radiated a level of charisma so palpable that even if he hadn’t been a rock star, I would’ve found him more than a little intimidating.

He gave me a warm smile that made him seem a lot more approachable, and his expression softened even more as he moved closer to Lace. The way he looked at her with those eyes was so intense; it was almost hot enough to melt an ice encased cynical heart like mine. But not quite. I didn’t think it was possible for me to ever believe in love again. At least not for myself.

I now understood why my friend looked so different than when I’d first met her. It was more than the haircut. It was Bryan Jackson. Her former band mate and childhood friend was into her in a serious way, and it was just as obvious that she felt exactly the same. Lace was truly happy with him. No wonder she and Warren had broken up.

All the little details were starting to add up. Bryan having a key to her apartment, that tux on the door, how content she seemed. A lot of momentous stuff had apparently gone down since I’d last seen her.

Good things
, I thought. I couldn’t wait till we had time to talk so she could fill in the blanks.

“I’m really sorry I blasted in here and scared your boy.” Regret brought his dark brows together over his soft apologetic eyes, the sincerity in his voice and words cutting a wide swath through my concerns about him.

“He’s fine. He was almost asleep before I closed the door.” I shrugged to let him know we were good. “Is something wrong?”

He sighed. “Not really.” But he threw Lace a look that said the opposite.

“What does Dizzy think?” she asked him.

“He likes the guy.” Bryan ran a hand through his hair. “But you know Diz. He’d rather go with the flow than make waves. Ever.”

“In this case, maybe he’s right, Bry. Justin does have a great voice. He’s also a pretty decent guitarist. Having three guitarists would give Tempest a really powerful sound. I agree with Dizzy. I say give him a chance.”

“You think so, huh?” Bryan frowned. I got the distinct impression that there was a lot more than professional jealousy simmering beneath the surface of that frown. “Maybe. I listened to some of his tracks after the meeting. He’s ok, I guess. Too Jason Wade for me though. And the way he’s being forced on us without us having any say so…”

“Can she really do that?” Lace looked perplexed.

“She quoted from some right to management clause in the contract we all signed. I don’t really understand it all.” He tipped back his beer. I watched his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a really long pull, draining the bottle of Molson dry. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Anyway, King let her have it.” His lips tilted into a faint ghost of a smile. “Told her straight out how fucked up he thought this whole thing was. Hell he just said what the rest of us were thinking. But she just looked down her nose at him, you know that intimidating as shit way she does, and said, ‘I don’t see your signature on the checks, Mr. Acenado, and until I do, it’ll be me calling the shots and you doing what you’re told.’”

Whoa.
I didn’t know who this Mary was, but I’d seen pictures of King. He was cut. She must be a definite force to be reckoned with if she would take him on.

“It’ll work out, Bry.” Lace moved into him and threaded her arms around his trim waist. “War’s signed a contract with Morris now. He’s not coming back. You guys have to move on.” A momentary flash of something that looked like pain flickered in the guitarist’s eyes before he squeezed them shut. I had a feeling that War was more to him than just their lead singer. Bryan dipped his face into Lace’s hair. I heard his heavy exhalation and watched Lace skim her hands along his back, the hunched tension in his bunched muscles visibly loosening.

It was a poignant scene. They seemed to have forgotten I was there. Feeling like I was intruding on something private, I started to back quietly out of the room.

Bryan lifted his head, his eyes landing on mine. “Sorry to embroil you in all this drama.”

That made two times he had apologized to me. A nobody, and a virtual stranger to him. And for relatively minor stuff, too. I began to believe Lace had chosen wisely. Bryan seemed as kind as he was handsome.

“That’s ok. No worries.” I tapped my lips trying to remember what I’d learned in the senior level contracts class I’d been taking at UCF before I’d messed up and had to drop out to go into rehab. “These types of record deals usually have some kind of out clause. It’d cost you, but you could probably get a lawyer to look into it. I mean if you really don’t want this guy and object to Mary’s heavy-handedness.” I tucked my hair behind my ear as another thought occurred to me. “Has anyone from the band talked to Justin to find out how he feels about all this?”

“We haven’t yet.” Bryan shook his head. “He was in her office right before us.” He eased back and placed his hands on Lace’s shoulders, staring down at her. “You’re friends with him. Would you mind, Lace? If we could just buy a little time, a little breathing room for all of us, I think we could come up with a solution that’s better for everyone.”

“Sure, Bry. No problem.” She reached back and covered his hands with her own. “But only if you agree to keep an open mind about him. I still think he’d be an excellent front man for Tempest.”

“I would do anything for you, babe. You know this.” He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. The kiss was brief, but it was hot and lasted long enough for her hands to go into his hair and his to bunch up her cotton tee, exposing the skin of her lower back.

My cheeks flushed. Desires that I would never again acknowledge tried to surface, but I stuffed them way the hell back down. I’d given up on romantic aspirations five years ago.

“I’ll go over right now.” Lace was out of breath and looked a little dazed when they separated. “See if he’s even home.”

“Great babe, but take Bridget with you.” It was clear from his authoritative tone that my presence wasn’t optional.

Lace had an edgy personality. I knew from experience that she didn’t take orders well. My gaze shifted to her.

“Bry.” Sure enough her spine was stiff and her eyes flared. “I love that you’re all possessive and shit, and I’ll take Bridget ‘cause I want her to meet Justin anyway. But babe, you gotta know you’ve got no competition there. None.” She headed to the door. “You coming, Gigi?” she called looking back over her shoulder and using her nickname for me. “Justin’s staying just next door.”

“But what if Carter…”

“Bry’ll be here,” she interrupted. “He’s good with kids. He’s put up with me since I was five, and he grew up taking care of his younger siblings.”

“Alright,” I agreed, catching up to her and following her out into the hall.

She turned to face me as soon as she shut the door, and her expression was guarded. “I just want you to know Bryan and I are together now, Bridget. He stays…in my bedroom with me. I hope that’s not gonna be a problem for you. If it is, I’ll help you find somewhere else to stay where you’ll feel more comfortable.”

“Pfft. I’m no prude. You know my story, Lace, and I’m very upfront with Carter.” Maybe more than I should be given his age, but I didn’t want him to make the same mistakes I had. “I’m ok if you are. From what I’ve seen of Bryan so far, he seems like a really great guy. If you trust him…”

“I trust him with my life.”

Alrighty then.
The empathic way she’d spoken took me aback. “He’s certainly very good looking,” I allowed.

Her face lit up, a devilish gleam brightening her tawny eyes. “That he definitely is.” She knocked on the door. “And just wait till you see Justin.”

Before I had sufficient time to allow that to sink in, the door in front of us was jerked open and my jaw immediately hit the floor.

OMG.

Her Justin was Justin Jones! As in the twin of Avery Jones, the famous female guitarist for Brutal Strength.

Why hadn’t I made that connection?

“How’s it going JJ?” Lace’s grin widened at my slack expression.

“Good, Double L.” His voice was smooth and melodic and nearly as sexy as the half smile that curved his lips. Then his gaze slid over to focus on me. Good looking wasn’t an adequate enough description. No wonder Bryan hadn’t wanted Lace to come over here alone. Justin Jones was one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen.

Rip your heart out and teach you a lesson you’ll never forget kind of handsome.

His auburn hair was shorter on the sides and artfully long and stylishly disheveled on top. His emerald eyes were framed by thick dark lashes, and his body was all lean compact muscles beneath a snug fitting grey Henley. He’d rolled the sleeves up to the elbows revealing an enticing pair of strong forearms, and he had a black leather cord with two silver beads tied around his right wrist. The way that shirt fit him, I’d bet my life it was designer, rag & bone would be my guess, as were the contrasting straight line jeans that fit his narrow hips and long legs really, really well.

Those gorgeous eyes appeared to have been doing some checking out of their own. I felt exposed beneath the intensity of his gaze. My pulse started thundering loudly inside my ears and the space between us became supercharged with electricity like the atmosphere back home in Florida just before a lightning strike.