Music of the Heart (8 page)

nothing stops you, does it? I mean, I even pick
Los Caminos De La Vida
out of your Spanish

collection for us to dance to because I know it’s the least sexy song in the world. It’s about a dude

worrying about his mother dying for goodness sake.”

My chest tightened at the mention of a mother’s death, and my hand immediately went to my pocket

where my phone rested. “Hey, um, I’ll meet you guys outside, okay?”

Abby nodded while AJ said, “I’ll round up Bray and Rhys.”

“Sounds good.” As soon as I stepped off the bus steps, I dialed my mom. She answered on the

second ring. “Hey sweetie.”

Even though she couldn’t see me, a broad smile spread across my face. “Hey, Mama. I just wanted

to call and see how your doctor’s appointment went.” Although I’d never admit it to her, I’d been

worried to death about her. Three years ago, we’d faced a crisis when a routine breast exam found a

tumor. She had been through the gamut of chemo and radiation, along with a mastectomy. Fortunately

though, she had been strong and healthy since then. She just had to go back for routine exams and

blood work.

“Oh, just fine. Everything’s fine. No need to worry.”

“Are you sure? You sound tired.”

She laughed. “It’s just because some of the girls convinced me to dance again. I overdid it thinking

I was twenty, not fifty.”

Back in the day, my mom had been a classically trained ballet dancer. Although her dream was to

make it into Julliard, she did well traveling and touring with local companies. Once she got too old to

dance, she opened a dance studio. It was financially successful for her and successful for me since I

met and charmed the tutus off quite a few of the dancers.

I shook my head. Even though she was trying to play it off, I could tell there was more. “I could

come home if you needed me.”

“Jacob, I’m fine. What I need you to do right now is keep up with your band’s obligations. There

are a lot of people depending on you.”

My mama was one of the few people I allowed to call me by my birth name. “Okay, okay. But you

know I’d be there in an instant if you needed me.”

I could hear the pleasure in her voice when she replied, “Of course I do. But you know Papa’s just

down the road and the rest of the family. You just take care of you.”

It was then that the bus doors opened up. Missing the last step, Abby came tumbling off the bus,

and I had to rush forward to catch her before she fell. She gripped my biceps to steady herself.

“Oops, what a blonde moment,” she murmured, her face flushing with embarrassment. “Thank you,

Jake.”

I grinned at her and then winked. “Just glad I could save you from face planting.”

Abby gave a small smile before hurrying away from me and disappearing into the passenger seat

of the Tahoe waiting to take us to dinner. Rhys and Brayden came out followed by AJ.

“Jacob?” My mother’s voice finally brought me back out of my thoughts of how good Abby’s

hands felt on me and how delicious she smelled.

“Sorry, Mama. Small female crisis.”

“Was that Bree?” From just those few words, my mother’s tone indicated her disdain for any

involvement I had with the dark-haired goddess who traveled from time to time with her dad who

was a roadie with the band. Mama hated the fact that Bree showed up all over the country just to be

with me.

“No, it wasn’t. Her name is Abby. And before you can even ask, she’s not a groupie.” I then gave

my mom a quick explanation.

“She sounds lovely.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, I’m sure to
you
she does. To me it’s a

freakin’ nightmare—an alleged virgin who isn’t going to let me in her pants without the Jaws of Life.

She’s not intimidated by me at all. Not to mention she has drive and ambition not just in the music

world, but with nursing. And to top it all off, she comes from an insanely religious background.”

“Jacob Ethan Slater! I can’t believe you just talked about getting into a girl’s pants in front of me!”

Mama chided.

“Sorry,” I replied, sheepishly. “I guess I’ve been with the guys too long.”

She laughed. “Please tell me you’re not acting like a total animal and that you show some of the

respect I instilled in you—especially to this Abby.”

“I try…and I’ll try with her too.”

“Is she pretty?”

Without missing a beat, I replied, “She’s beautiful—just like an angel.” I winced the moment the

pansy words escaped my lips. What the hell was happening to me?

“Mmm-hmm,” Mama murmured knowingly into the phone. “She could be good for you if you

would give her a chance.”

“Come on, Jake!” AJ shouted.

“Mama, I gotta go. We’re catching an early dinner.”

“Okay sweetheart. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I love you,” I proclaimed.

“I love you, too,” she replied. Just before I could hang-up, she said, “Jacob?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m serious about giving Abby a chance. Fate has a funny way of intervening in people’s lives.”

I knew what she wasn’t saying when she mentioned fate. She meant God. She and Abby would get

along really well with their faith—something I had never picked up on, much to my mama’s

disappointment. “Yeah, whatever.”

She laughed. “There’s that stubbornness—the worst trait you inherited from me.”

“I got a lot of good ones from you too.”

“Yes, as well as from your father.”

I growled into the phone at the mention of him. Because my mom was an absolute saint, she had

been able to forgive the bastard for leaving her for his bimbo of a secretary when I was ten. Me, on

the other hand, I still had issues with him and my step-mother.

Our head roadie, Frank, honked the horn, causing me to jump. “Sorry Mama, I really gotta go.”

After another round of “I love yous”, I disconnected and hustled over to hop into the SUV. Leaning

forward, I tapped Frank. “So where are we eating?”

He turned back to me and grinned. “The team wanted that pizza place we saw down the road a

bit.”

I glanced over at the other guys who made faces and wrinkled their noses. We’d been living off

pizza and Subway the last few days we were at Rock Nation. Since we’d been out in the desert, there

hadn’t been shit around for miles, which meant very limited food choices.

“GPS says there’s a sports bar/diner about five minutes up the road. A hot spot for tourists and

truckers.”

I laughed. “If it’s a favorite of truckers, then it must be good, huh?”

“I just want a cheeseburger the size of my head,” Rhys declared.

AJ licked his lips. “Nah, a big, juicy steak with a baked potato slathered in butter and sour cream.”

Catching Abby’s eye, I tilted my head at her. “Trucker stop okay for you, Angel?”

Although she tried to hide it, I could tell she was extremely uncomfortable at the thought. At the

smirk curving on my lips, she rolled her eyes. “It sounds lovely.”

“I’m sure it’s not the quality you’re used to.”

Twisting around in her seat, she glared at me. “You still don’t get it, do you? I’ve eaten just about

every animal imaginable, and the quality had certainly not been USDA approved. Once again, the

missionary lifestyle is harsh. You don’t reach people while staying at the Hilton. It’s jungles,

backwoods, and slums.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve lived a hard knock missionary life. You wanna medal or

something?”

“No, I was just making a point that I’m not the prima donna you think I am!”

“Well, you’ve been stateside since you were twelve. Not to mention, your dad is pastor of one of

the five largest churches in Texas—I’m sure he makes a pretty good salary with that many members

tithing.”

Abby’s blonde brows shot up. “How did you know that?”

I grinned at her. “I did a little research on my iPad while we were resting.”

“I’m not denying that we have a nice house and nice things
now
. But most everything goes right

back into the ministry—even the boys give a lot of their salary. It’s how we were raised. But even if

my dad had a BMW and my mom was draped in bling, no matter how hard you try, I’m still going to

win, Jake. You can bet your sweet ass on it!”

Rhy and AJ dissolved into hearty laughter while Frank tore his gaze from the road to stare at Abby

in surprise. Taking one hand from the wheel, he held it out to her. “Can I shake the hand of the only

girl I’ve ever seen put Jake Slater in his place?”

Abby giggled and shook Frank’s hand. “I have three older brothers, so I’m used to it.”

“We haven’t been formerly introduced because these knuckleheads seem to have forgotten their

manners. I’m Frank Patterson.”

“Abby Renard. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He jerked his head back in my direction. “That little wiseass is like a son to me, but

he needs taken down every once in a while.”

“Keep talking, Frank,” I muttered.

He chuckled as he flicked on the blinker to turn into the diner. As I surmised from the teaming

parking lot, it was probably nicer than most of the places we stopped along the road. With all the

eighteen wheelers parked in the side-lot along with the gleaming chrome of some motorcycles up

front, it also had a seedy flair to it as well. Most of the time, the shittier places were top on our list

because we wouldn’t necessarily get recognized. There was a lot to appreciate about being able to

eat dinner in peace without fans shoving items in front of you to sign or snapping your picture.

Frank pulled into a parking spot but kept the engine idling. “I’m going to head back down the road

and check on the boys. Text me when you’re ready to leave, and I’ll come pick you up.”

“Thanks man. Make sure the guys get whatever they want, but watch the alcohol,” I instructed.

Frank glanced back and winked at me. “Don’t worry. I always do.”

I patted him on the shoulder before hopping out of the SUV.

Without even thinking, I opened Abby’s door. She tore her gaze from Frank to stare at me in

surprise. I held out my hand to her. “I figured after your last little tumble, I should make sure you got

out all right. I don’t want to be sending you back to your brothers all bruised up.” Under my breath, I

murmured, “Well, at least not without enjoying it.”

She cocked her head at me while the corners of her lips turned up in a half smile. “I heard your

insinuation about me getting bruised up through…well, you know.”

I laughed. “Now this is me being a pure gentleman like you requested. Wherever your devious

little mind goes with my comments is your business.”

Taking my hand in hers, she giggled. “Okay then.” Once her cowboy boots were firmly set on the

pavement, she let go of my hand. “Thank you, Jake.”

“You’re welcome.”

As we started in the diner, I once again held open the door for her. She grinned up at me. “Can I

just say a girl could get used to this?”

“Well, that was my mother I was talking to on the phone. She made sure to remind me to act like I

had some sort of upbringing when I was around you.”

“I haven’t even met her, and I already like her.” She leaned closer to me, her breath hovering over

my cheek. “And deep down inside you, there’s the man I’m sure she worked hard to raise. He just

needs to come out more often.”

“Is that right?”

“Mmm, hmm.” Her blue eyes pinned me a stare. “Because when the gentleman Jake comes out, he

makes you awfully irresistible”

Something about the way she said those words made a shudder go through me. Trying to recover,

my hand went to the small of her back to usher her to a table. “Yeah, well, just don’t get too used to it,

Angel.”

A disappointed look flashed on her face, but she ducked her head before she thought I saw it. Bray

had asked the hostess to seat us away from the crowd, and that put us in a side room with a stage and

an almost antiquated looking karaoke set-up. I was surprised to see a DJ organizing music.

“Ooh, they have karaoke!” Abby squealed as she eased down in her chair.

AJ grinned at her excitement. “Whattya say you and me do a duet in a bit? Prove to you there’s a

voice behind the drum-set?”

She bobbed her head. “I’d love to!”

It was then that a very hot, scantily clad waitress with a fabulous rack sauntered up to our table,

and instantly my dick twitched in my pants, leaving any ideas of being a good boy in the dust. “What

can I getcha?”

Leaning back in my chair, I let my gaze rove over her body. “Hmm, there’s a loaded question,” I

replied suggestively.

She winked at me before saying, “Let’s stick to the menu for now, sugar.”

I grinned. “Fine if we have to. We’ll have five beers—”

“Four. I’ll have a Coke Zero,” Abby interrupted.

The waitress, whose name tag no lie read Billie Jean, didn’t even look at Abby. Instead, she

pursed her heavily glossed lips at me. “We don’t have Coke Zero here.”

Cutting my eyes over to Abby, I could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. “Something

else for you, Angel?”

“Diet Coke then,” she grumbled.