by Cat Mason
The guys and Chase stand and follow Hunter, Ireland, and Jameson out of the room. Sitting down beside Camaron, I laugh the moment the door closes. What’s so funny?” she asks.
“Ireland is Hunter with an Ibanez and a vagina.”
Cam’s eyes widen and she covers her mouth as she laughs. “You’re right. Oh shit, this will be interesting, that’s for sure.”
“I’ll be honest,” Abby says, taking a seat closer to Cam and me. “She’s a handful, but she’s got this raw talent that blew me away. I want her in Shaft. I can see her there.”
“If that’s the decision that’s made, and everyone is good with it, then we’ll make it work,” Cam says surely.
Abby turns her eyes on me. “Henry,” she says, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. “Another thing we need to get on now, is adding more security to your team. I know that you have said no before, but you and Mack can’t possibly be expected to handle things on your own on tour, and at home, along with adding Ireland to the mix. It’s just not possible.”
“I agree.”
Cam and Abby both smile at me. “Good,” Abby replies, sounding a bit shocked.
“Henry and I would like to sit in on the interviews, since ultimately, it would be Big Man putting together the team,” Cam adds.
“Of course,” Abby nods. “We can start the process immediately. I can even send them to the house, if you’d like.”
“Thank you, Abby,” Cam and I reply in unison.
After going over all the details and sorting a pile of possible candidates to decide which to meet with, we head down to the studio to check on things. I feel a lot better about putting more guys on security after having seen some of the potential. Ex-Navy, former police, even a few out of state firms that would be willing to put guys on immediately.
At the end of the hall we stop outside the studio and watch through the large glass wall with Jameson. Reaching over, Abby turns the knob on an in-wall speaker system, adjusting the volume so that we can hear better. They sound great, but I don’t need to hear to know things are good. Aiden is tearing up the skins while Gray plays lead. Hunter and Ireland are in the middle of the studio, dueling with guitars. When Chase belts out her solo, Ireland comes in on a nearby mic, freestyling in the background. Her voice is a blend of rough, sexy, and yet it comes off strangely smooth. Honestly, she really does balance Chase pretty damn perfect.
Once the song is finished, Hunter holds up a finger at Ireland. “Hold on a sec while we talk about you.”
“Don’t worry, Hunter,” she fires back. Holding up her black nail polish covered middle finger, she runs it along the frets of her bright purple bass guitar. “I’ll just be over here, being fuckin’ fabulous.”
Hunter chuckles, then joins Chase, and Grayson as they huddle around Aiden and the drum set, already in furious discussion.
“She’s really good,” Cam says, looking between Abby and me.
I nod, but don’t even have to; we all know she is good. She fits with the band while performing if what we saw was any indication. It’s pretty much a done deal, and judging by the look on Hunter’s face as he looks over at her, he knows it too.
“All right, it was a close one,” Hunter says, shrugging his shoulders.
“Hunter, don’t be an ass.” Slapping him on the arm, Chase pushes around him and smiles at Ireland. “It’s unanimous. Welcome to Shaft.”
After handling final paperwork and arranging practice time, both at the studio and at the house, we climb into the ‘Burban to head back home. Everyone seems to be on board with the changes, for the most part. It’s going to take some time for them to get their feel on stage with an extra body up there.
Adjusting to change. It’s a concept we are all going to have to get used to, especially now that we’re home. Things will be different now that we’re in Nashville. Soon enough, Jasmine starts school and the tour kicks off. That will put me in different cities every night with the group and Mack home with Daisy, Rae, and the kids. According to the schedule Ironsound set up, we should be able to come home every other weekend for the first leg at least, then who knows.
What does that mean for Rae and me? What does she want? I do know I like that it feels like my world slows down a bit when I’m with her. I also sleep. I haven’t felt this good in years and that’s starting to scare the shit out of me. It also is really good too.
Walking into the house, I hear laughing in the kitchen. Heading through the foyer, I make my way down the hallway, stopping in the doorway when I see Rae, Brannon, and Daisy making dinner while Mack and Jazzie are busy icing a cake.
“Hey,” Rae says, smiling up at me. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
“We made cake, Big Man!” Jazzie squeals then licks spoon.
Eyeing the crooked, frosting covered dessert on the cake stand, I smile at her. “You sure did, I bet it’s real good too.” Turning to Rae, I jerk my chin toward the hallway. “Need a minute with you.”
Slipping my hand to the small of her back, I lead her out of the kitchen and down the hallway. Opening the door to my bedroom, I shuffle us in and close the door behind us. “Henry, what’s going on?”
Spinning her around, I push her against the closed door and slam my mouth to hers. Wrapping my arms around her, I lift her from the ground as she melts into me. Rae’s arms wrap around my neck then she sighs into my mouth, giving me full advantage. I dive into her mouth, my tongue brushing over hers in soft swipes, slowly tasting the woman I have begun to crave like a fucking drug.
“Tour starts soon,” I say breaking the kiss.
“What?” she asks, staring at me.
“I won’t be here. I’ll be on the bus,” I begin. “Don’t know what that means for us.” Brushing the hair away from her face, I cup her jaw. “Because I’ve decided there’s an us.”
Burying her face in my neck, she breathes deeply. I tense, hoping that I didn’t just fuck up and say something stupid. My hands roam her back, wanting to feel her. Finally, she leans back against the wall and looks at me. She shakes her head, her lips quirking up into a smile. “Bear,” she whispers, pressing her lips to the corner of my mouth. “There’s been an us for quite some time now.”
My lips find hers again, and I take a lot longer than a minute.
20
That’s Not Allowed
Rae
The band lands right back on their feet the moment we arrive back in Nashville. After the new guitarist was brought on, practicing for the tour was nearly non-stop. Henry and I are passing ships during the day; he with the boys and Chase, or interviewing potential men for added security during the tour, and me with the kids. We’ve grown accustomed to stealing our few minutes during the day, but every night is spent lying in his arms.
When he isn’t worshipping my body like a temple, we talk. His fingers stroke along my body or through my hair, as I lie on his chest. We talk about whatever, because it doesn’t really matter. We’re together. He makes me laugh, and what’s better, my heart melts more and more every time he laughs. He tosses and turns quite a bit in his sleep, but seems to settle once he wraps his arms around me again. He mumbles things that I can’t understand, but then snores softly again after a few minutes.
Today is a huge day for everyone. It’s Jasmine’s first day of school and it has everyone in the house beside themselves, especially Hunter, Mack, and Henry. The poor men are just about to lose it because the kid is going to school for half the day.
What hell are they going to do when the heat schedule is over and she goes five days a week until four?
“Tell me again, Jasmine?” Hunter asks sitting down at the table. Grabbing a plate of bacon, he shoves an artery clogging amount on his plate before handing it to Aiden. Since this was a big day for Jazz, we all decided to make a big breakfast to celebrate and eat together before she goes to school and they practice their set with Ireland, once she gets here.
Placing her glass of chocolate milk back on the table, she scrunches up her nos
e. “If a boy even breathes on me, I scream and tell him that my daddy will whoop his ass.”
“Jazz!” Chase shrieks at her language. “Mouth.” Jazzie shrugs and goes back to blowing bubbles in her milk.
“You tell ‘em your Uncle Henry knows where to hide a body,” Henry says, mixing hot sauce into his scrambled eggs.
“Guys, it’s a bunch of five year olds,” I say, shaking my head.
“Obviously you don’t know what boys are like. I was a five year old boy once,” Hunter says, nudging Henry with his elbow. “Little bastards.”
“Hell, we’re like five year old boys now, sometimes,” Mack says, sitting down at the other end of the table. “Jasmine needs to just stay home. No boys chasin’ her at recess, pullin’ her pigtails, or trying to kiss her. That’s not allowed.”
“At five,” Hunter continues, lowering his voice. “I was already P-E-E-K-I-N-G up D-R-E-S-S-E-S,” he says, grabbing a piece of bacon, looking between Jazzie and me as he spells out his words. “Mack’s right. I don’t believe I’d like prison, so maybe we should just not send her and find a nice all-girls school. Or a tutor, we can do that.”
“I think you’re overdramatizing this just a little bit, Hunter.” I can’t help laughing, and the girls are giggling right along with me.
“Next thing you know, those little bastards will be tellin’ her to have parties while we’re out on the road,” Aiden says, making Hunter bury his face in his hands.
Camaron swats Aiden’s arm. “Stop that. At this rate he will have gray hair before she’s in third grade.”
Hunter’s eyes shoot up angrily as he runs a hand over his perfectly mussed up dark brown hair. “Watch your mouth, woman. The word g-r-a-y will never be in my vocabulary, or my fuckin’ hair line.”
“And on that note.” Chase giggles, standing from her chair. “It’s time to go to school, Jazz.”
Chase helps pack up Jazzie’s lunch box and backpack before we all get into the Suburban to take her. Chase and Hunter sit in the back with her, while I sit in the front with Henry. Being that the children’s privacy is held higher than the band, Hunter and Chase say goodbye in the car, even if Hunter does throw a huge dramatic pout about not being able to scare the shit out of a dozen or so little boys. Once he calms down some, I walk Jazz in while Henry lets the vehicle idle at the front for me.
The classroom is amazing. The entire room is painted in fairy tale themes, making Jasmine’s eyes light up the moment we step inside. After putting away her things, I help her find her seat and we meet her teacher, Miss Amanda. The woman is way too excited at eight o’clock in the morning on a Monday. I’m all for being in a pleasant mood, but she has me looking for the reality button. The entire time we talk, I keep waiting for her to break out in song, and once I even think she starts to.
Luckily she refrained somehow, I just don’t think I could take that before noon. Or ever.
Pulling up back at the house, we spot a tiny little compact parking and a girl with purple streaks climbing out. “There’s Ireland,” Henry says, putting the vehicle into park and shutting off the engine. “Fair warning, she’s a handful.”
Opening the door, I slide out just as Mack heads down the walkway to greet her. Ireland is bent down inside the back seat, yanking a bag and guitar case, as he reaches her. “Hey, let me give you a hand with that, I’m Mack.”
“Well, Mack,” she grunts, tugging on the strap before releasing it to spin around on her combat booted heel. “I can manage just fuckin’ fi…..” Her eyes widen in shock, her face goes completely white as if she’s just saw a ghost.
My eyes go to Mack, who looks just about the same as she does. “Ireland?” he asks, stepping closer. “Is that you?”
21
Small… World…
Mack
You never forget your first. First cheeseburger, first car, your first piece of ass. Yeah, your first is how you base your expectations for every time after that. Ireland Tyler was that first, even if she didn’t know that. I was seventeen and stupid, but what seventeen year old is smart? Seriously.
Home life was horrible for me growing up. That meant I stayed there as little as possible. I got into way too many fights and stirred way too much shit, resulting in my very own juvie record by the ripe old age of sixteen.
According to the judge, I was a menace to society. He refused to take it easy on some asshole kid with a chip on his shoulder and a hangover. Instead, he sentenced me to anger management and I had to be a foster brother at the local city center.
Ireland knocked me off my feet the moment I first saw her. She was nothing like me. She had a good life and wanted to be there. Always smiling, always happy, and I hated that about her. Her hair was a lighter brown then, minus the purple of course, and she had these horrible brown glasses that covered too much of her face. Every day she would be carrying around an old acoustic guitar and scribbling in an old black journal. She was innocent and I saw nothing, but a corruptible girl and an easy escape.
I hurt her. I knew that I did, but I didn’t care. Sure, she was a sweet girl and I took advantage of that. Some people would call me a dick, but hey, maybe I am. I needed an escape and she was more than willing to provide it that day.
“I see you’ve met Ireland, the newest member of Shaft,” Chase says, walking up behind us.
“The fuck?” I ask, shaking my head.
“Oh, Nicky and I know each other. We grew up in the same neighborhood,” Ireland says, gritting her teeth. Her blue eyes harden as she stares at me, crossing her arms over her chest.
I can feel my nostrils flaring and my blood boiling at the use of that fucking name. A name that she knows I hate. Pushing past her, I yank her bags from the car. “Sure do,” I say, slamming the door a little harder than I meant to.
“What a small world,” Rae says, looking between us.
Ireland laughs, a smirk spreading across her face as she winks at me. “Only one thing smaller.”
This woman is out for fucking blood.
“Well, Gray and Aiden are supposed to be setting up inside,” Hunter says, starting toward the house. “Come on in and make yourself at home.”
“I’ll just help Ireland with her bag, we’ll be right there,” I say as Chase, Rae, and Henry follow behind Hunter.
“Aw, Nicky.” Ireland tsks. “You don’t look very happy to see me.”
“What are you doing here, Ireland?” I growl. “What kind of game are you playin’? Did you know I was here, is that what this is about?”
Her eyes widen again. Stepping closer to me, she jabs my chest with her black finger nail. “I never played games with you, Dominick, and I don’t want to either. I’m here for a job, to make music. Last thing I wanna do is dwell on past mistakes. I’m sorry that you think everything is about you, but sadly, it isn’t.” Grabbing the guitar case, she reaches up with her free hand and brushes her fingers over my jaw. “Don’t be upset, beautiful, it really is just how the world works sometimes. Better learn to roll with it.”
The words I said to her years ago in her parent’s basement come back and bite me in the ass. Turning on her heel, she starts up toward the door, swishing her plaid skirt covered ass as she walks. The only thing I hear is the word “mistake” echoing in my head. Another fucking word I hate, and that bitch knows it. My fists ball at my sides, and I can literally feel the anger radiating off me in waves as I shoulder the other bag and head into the house.
22
Big Bitch Pulls Out
Henry
Nearly a month of interviewing through security firms and prospects with military and criminal justice background, I finally found two really solid guys to bring on the tour. Mike Walters did three tours in Iraq and is trained in hand-to-hand combat. The guy is barely six foot tall, but he was able to take Mack down with just the use of two fingers. He got bonus points for that. Lastly, there is Jared Elliot from the Elite Shield Security firm who looks like he’s sucked on sour grapes damn near his whole life. The man i
s like a fucking ninja and I swear he has super-sonic hearing. It has me feeling better about the tour. Splitting us up, and leaving Rae back in Nashville, not so much.
“Don’t like this,” I say, pulling Rae’s body into mine as we stand in the driveway outside the tour bus. Everyone is loading their shit and getting ready to head to Indiana for the start of their press tour for the new album. Hunter and Chase are snuggling Jazzie while Grayson holds a teary eyed Daisy in one arm and Bran in the other.
“Me either,” she whispers, reaching behind her back to link her fingers with mine. “It’s only two weeks of promotional tour stuff and a few smaller based concerts, then you’re back here with me for a week.”
“I want you sleepin’ in my bed every night,” I say, burying my nose in her hair. “Need to know you’re in my bed, waitin’ on me to come home. Want my pillow smellin’ like you when I lay on it again.” Rae looks up at me, a smile playing on her plump, perfect lips. “Yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes at her. “I sound sappy as fuck, I know, but keep it to yourself.”
“Yes,” she replies, titling her head to the side as she studies me. “Yes, you do.”
Bending down, I kiss her. She wraps around me, sighing into my mouth, as if she knows that’s just what I need right now. My heart hammers in my chest as I feel more things becoming clear to me. I don’t want to leave her, it feels like I’m leaving a part of me here. I’ve grown to crave this woman like a drug over the last couple months. I need her to calm the monster when it rages. We have spent every day together for months now. Even when I wasn’t around, most times I was still watching over her. Sure, I can see her face on Skype and hear her voice, but I won’t be able to touch her, kiss her, or listen to her breathe as she sleeps beside me.
