by HJ Bellus
“Before I get too carried away, I need to ask you something.”
“What’s that?”
“Want to head to Boise with me and the family tomorrow? I have that concert and then staying until the surgery.”
I nod without thinking. “Yes, but what about the store and stuff?”
“Mom has it under control with some of her employees.”
The trailer door slams shut, startling me then Guy howls, scratching at the door.
“What about him?”
I grow disappointed, knowing it won’t work out.
“Pet-friendly hotel.” He rolls over me, strides to the door, and lets Guy in.
His ass and broad back have me hypnotized.
“You’re naked,” I remind him when he climbs back over me.
“I’m in the mountains. The only person around for miles is Lydia. Probably would make her day if she got a little show.”
“Or give her a damn heart attack.”
We both begin laughing uncontrollably about the vision. I kiss his face all over and tell him yes. Yes, I’ll go. I have a sinking suspicion I’ll be telling this man yes the rest of my days.
Jed makes good on his promise of extending our morning way into the late afternoon.
“This is like the real deal.” I stare around one more time in complete awe.
“Sure is and this is small scale for Jed.” Caleb stuffs a handful of popcorn in his mouth and chases it with a long pull from his beer.
“Wow, I can’t begin to imagine.” I take seat in the front row.
The outdoor arena is an intimate setting, allowing fans to get up close and personal with the performer. I’ve only been to a handful of concerts throughout my life, so everything looks huge to me.
“It gets old after a while,” Caleb mumbles around another mouthful of popcorn. “Not my cup of tea.”
I see the opening and take it. “Football.”
His head jerks to attention with that one word.
“Was my cup of tea.” He drains the rest of his beer.
“So, what’s your story?” I toss his question back in his face.
He shrugs. “Life happened. The end.”
“Are you serious?” I shake my head. “You don’t get off that easy.”
We are interrupted by a security guard. “Caleb, Jed wants you to bring Marlee backstage.”
“Will do.”
The security guard strides back to the edge of the stage.
“Let’s go.” Caleb holds out his hand to me.
I take it, snag his popcorn, and dart for backstage. The lanyard granting me access whips around my head.
“You little shit.” Caleb pounds the ground behind me.
Popcorn flies out of the butter soaked bucket as I pick up my pace. I dash through the gate, the two security guards already know me. I’ve been backstage hanging out with Jed and Fender. I didn’t leave until Caleb begged me to get junk food with him from the concession stands. Two chilidogs, a handful of beers, nachos, and a bucket of buttery popcorn was all demolished by Caleb, and it seems now it has slowed him down.
I reach the inside of the enormous, open-sided, hospitality tent before Caleb reaches me. I spot Fender and rush to him, winding and weaving through tables and band members and their families. Once I reach him, I gently shove the popcorn in his chest.
“Fank you.” His eyes light up, shining with glee.
“Anytime.” I sit down in the chair he’s standing by.
Fender fills his palm with as much popcorn as he possibly can and shoves it in his mouth. These boys and their food are something to watch. He wipes his palm off on the front of his jeans then wipes his eyes using the back of his hands.
“What’s wrong, buddy?”
“I’m tired, Marwee.”
It warms my heart how he sometimes nails the r sound in his speech.
I pat my thighs. “Want me to hold you?”
He nods, sending me a yes. I place the bucket of popcorn on the table and pick him up. Speaking of the popcorn, I notice Caleb across the tent, chatting it up with a blonde, popcorn long forgotten.
“Are you excited to see your dad sing?” I cradle him in my arms like a newborn baby.
Fender snuggles right into my chest. His eyes flutter shut when I run my fingers through his hair.
“I slept like poop last night.”
I crane my neck to see his face. “You did? Why?”
“I don’t want my daddy to get sick.”
“I know, baby, I know.” I kiss his forehead, holding back my worries.
“He can’t get too sick because I don’t have a mom.”
“Oh, Fender.” I kiss him again. “You’ll never be alone. Your daddy is sick, but he has you, Nana, Papa, Caleb, Me, and Guy. We are all going to be his sidekicks getting him through this.”
“‘Cause he’s our superhero,” Fender replies.
“Yes, he is.”
His eyes flutter shut and his breathing evens out. I trace a line with my finger down his face. Glancing up, I see Jed watching me from the other side of the tent. He’s casually leaning back on a table, ice-cold bottle of water gripped in his hand and that damn black t-shirt. His eyes are watery with tears threatening to spill over.
I can’t imagine how we look from his viewpoint. I do know how damn amazing it feels from my position. Home. Forever. Movement out of the corner of my vision catches my attention. Luke swiped the bucket of popcorn from the table and waltzed off. I let Fender sleep through the two opening acts, tapping my foot to the beat of every song.
He doesn’t flinch or stir with the loud music. You can definitely tell he’s been raised in this environment. The damn near deafening country music is his lullaby.
“Here, let me take my sleeping prince charming.” Martha holds her arms out. “He can be a bear when waking up.”
I smile gently and pass him over then shake out my numb arm. Tingles pinch up as it comes back to life. Jed and I meet halfway in the middle of the tent. Everyone disappears, and all sounds mute as he clutches my hip. He doesn’t have to move me forward this time because I’m already there.
“Don’t know how I'm supposed to sing with you wearing those damn sexy cowboy boots and short dress,” Jed growls, then runs his lips over my neck.
I tilt my head to the side, wanting him never to stop. “It’s not that short.”
His rough palm runs the bottom of my dress, reminding me how short it is.
“Fine, but it’s your fault. You sent me out with your mom and credit card.”
“Heard you refused to buy an outfit, so Mom had to finally pick one.”
“Told you I didn’t need one.”
He shrugs. “I know. Heard you say it about fifty times. I’m damn proud of you for going out.”
“I love your mom. She made it easy.”
“Next time shopping trip will be to Victoria’s Secret, and you will be swiping that card.”
“Victoria’s Secret?” I quirk an eyebrow up in question.
“You know for the rough days I’m going to have. Gonna need some brightening up and stuff.” Jed runs his nose along my jawline.
Our deep and serious conversation is broken up, and Jed is led away. I follow his family out to our seats. Andrew James, the final opening act, is finishing up. Jed told me he’s the next big star. It doesn’t take a country legend to make you believe it. He has the whole package from his looks, to downhome country nice guy vibe, and those pipes. I’m already a believer.
“Alright, Boise, Idaho, are you ready for the reason we are all here?” Andrew booms into the microphone. “The one. The only. Jed Bryant.”
Andrew draws out Jed’s name in the microphone. The audience goes wild, screaming and jumping up and down. I’m in awe of the magic happening. They’re screaming for the man I’ve grown to know. He’s simple. Has a heart of gold and loves his Pop-Tarts, but to these fans, he’s a God.
“Boise, Idaho, let me hear you.” Jed comes jetting out down a long
runway, guitar in hand and immediately begins strumming a high pace song. His band members follow him. Andrew is right by his side, singing one of Jed’s chart-topping songs. It’s fast and upbeat and I can’t help but move to the rhythm of the song.
I feel a tug on my hand and look down to see Fender. I bend down, placing my ear to near his mouth. He cups his hands over his mouth and shouts. “Dance with me.”
I nod. Fender wastes no time pulling me out of my chair. He’s already full-out rocking by the time I stand. He grabs my hands and does his best to swing me around. We sing, laugh, and wiggle until the song is over.
Jed catches my attention when he strides with power and confidence over to our side of the stage. I’m struck dumb. Jed and I formed an unbreakable bond and have explored each other’s bodies a handful of times now, but it’s like I’m seeing him in a whole new light. A sense of pride, intrigue, and love coat me in his presence.
Caleb grabs Fender, pulling him onto his shoulders. Jed smiles and then flicks his guitar pick to his son. Fender’s arm shoots up in the air in pride and victory. Martha leans in and whispers in my ear.
“He’s done that since Fender was born. He always gives him the first guitar pick of a concert. It’s their thing.”
The deal is sealed on my tender heart. Jed Bryant officially owns it. Jed plays song after song once Andrew left the stage. We watch as he pours everything he has left of him into his work. This crowd in Boise, Idaho, will never know how fortunate they are because Jed is singing like it’s going to be the last concert.
“Gonna slow it down for a bit.” Jed shotguns a cold bottle of water. The women go nuts. “This song has been around for a while and might be a favorite of my songs. I wrote it during a time in my life that was flipped upside down. And now I find myself coming back to it. Just going to be me and my guitar for this one.”
He settles onto a barstool, adjusts his guitar around for a bit, and steadies his fingers on the chords. “Ever wonder why we find our most prized possessions in the darkest times of our lives? That question has plagued me a time or two over the years. Took me going home and grounding myself before I found the answer. Destiny. It’s all about those stars lining up and bringing the right people into your life.”
I will not cry. I will not cry. Jed strums the chords of his song “Lost.” The crowd is silent in awe. The sound of his melodic voice and guitar fills the air. He’s exposing himself up there in the rawest form. And there’s not one dry eye left in the house. Well, except for Fender who is smiling with pride at his daddy.
It takes several minutes when Jed finishes for the crowd to quiet down.
“Thank you.” Jed drops his head. “Thank you, Boise, Idaho.”
He receives a standing ovation. The crowd doesn’t quit for several minutes. Jed rises and begins talking. I had no idea he was going to do this.
“Boise, I have some news, and you’re the first to hear it.”
Andrew James saunters out on stage, standing next to Jed, shoulder to shoulder, with a microphone in hand.
“Oh my God.” a chorus of women squeal. “They’re going to Magic Mike us.”
The comment loud enough to reach the stage causes both men to smile like teenage boys.
“Darlin’, this boy ain’t got enough moves to keep up with me.” Jed hitches his thumb in the direction of Andrew. “He’s still a bit green on the edges. A young pup of sorts.”
“Hey, now,” Andrew warns.
The crowd enjoys a good laugh.
“Time to get serious.” Jed grips the microphone in his hand. “I have some news and no better place to announce it than in the fabulous state of Idaho.”
He waits for another wave of cheering to die down before speaking.
“You all might have noticed that my band members were playing for Andrew. If you didn’t, you can blame it on the beers.” Jed holds up his water bottle, saluting the members of the drinking crowd. “Got a good reason for that, too.”
Andrew wraps an arm around Jed’s shoulders, encouraging him to go on.
“No easy way to say it. I’ve been diagnosed with Stage 2 Appendix Cancer. Starting my fight against it the day after tomorrow. That means I’m handing my crown over to Mr. Andrew James here. This is his gig now and I know he won’t disappoint you.”
Jed’s voice cracks on the last part. Martha squeezes my hand as Jed’s words clamp around my beating heart. The crowd grows hushed with a somber tone settling over the venue.
“Now onto the important stuff.” Jed winks over at us. “Gotta play my boy’s favorite song.”
Andrew brings the microphone to his mouth. “What’s that? Let me guess, it’s a Tim McGraw song.”
“No!” Fender hops to his feet, yelling with all his might.
Jed can’t hear his words but sees Fender’s reaction, making him laugh.
“Get up here, son, and let’s show Mr. James how you rock out with the King.”
A security guard has Fender wrapped up in his arms and hauling him to the stage. Once his little boots touch down, Jed and his band tear into their rendition of “Hound Dog” swinging hips and all. Fender does his best copying each of his dad’s actions. The smile on his face will be one that will always be burned into my memory.
31
“There is more pleasure in loving than in being beloved.” -Thomas Fuller
I stir awake in the soft sheets. Fender insisted I slept in the same room with him and his dad. He built pillow lines down the bed, so we each had our section with him smack dab in the middle.
My vision focuses in on the sleeping angel next to me. Fender’s curled up in a tight ball, snoring away. Moonlight shines in through a sliver of the curtain, and a silhouette appears.
I lift up my head, everything becoming clearer. “Jed?”
“I’m here, baby,” he whispers.
He’s in the oversized lounge chair. Elbow leaning down on the arm, a glass in his hands, and legs spread wide, highlighted by enough moonlight to make his form out.
“Are you okay?” I do my best to creep out of bed to not disturb Fender.
“No.” He brings the tumbler to his mouth, taking a long drink.
The closer I get, I make out the bottle of Jameson on the table next to him. My heart sinks. He was holding everything together after the concert for his family and me.
I straddle his lap, my knees sinking into the plush cushions of the chair, wrap my arms around his neck, and tilt my head. “Talk to me.”
“Nothing to talk about. Just gave away what I’ve worked my whole life for. Thank you, fucking cancer.” The venom in his voice is thick.
“You didn’t give it away, baby.” I cup his cheek. “That wasn’t your last performance. It may have felt like it, but it wasn’t.”
“The future tells me otherwise.”
“It did to me once upon a time as well. My life was over. Everything was gone. Until you.”
Jed throws back the last of the Jameson, sets the tumbler down on the table with a clink, and pulls me to him. I let him cry, be pissed for what he’s going through until he gets it all out. We remain in the same position for what feels like hours and only a matter minutes at the same time.
Jed stands, keeping me tight to his chest. I wrap my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles right above his ass. He walks out into the main living area of the suite. This isn’t your typical hotel room; no, Jed rented the biggest suite they had. I teased him that it must be nice to be able to rent the entire floor of a hotel.
Jed lays me down on the couch. The crisp, white leather is going straight through the thin material of my shirt. I watch hypnotized as Jed strips away each piece of clothing until he’s naked in front of me. There’s no question in my mind what he wants.
I reach down to pull off my pajama shorts, but his hand stops me. He kneels down next to me, stripping away each piece of my clothing. He lets his knuckles linger on my skin as he does it. Then his mouth is everywhere, licking, tasting, and devouring me. It all beco
mes too much, and his name slips from my tongue in a cry.
Jed covers my body, trapping my pleas and screams. My fingernails pierce into the top of his shoulders when he drives into me. He replicates each motion with precision over and over. My legs wrapped around his middle quiver with excitement and anticipation as the torrid storm builds up in both of us. I clamor out incoherent words as I feel his length pulse once then twice before he spills into me. It’s his final thrusts coated in his release that sends me over the edge.
We spend the next day sneaking off, repeating the above over and over.
Chapter 32
“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.” -Mother Teresa
Jed’s surgery was pushed back a day. It was torture and sweet hell at the same time. We shared plenty of lovemaking sessions on borrowed time and took Fender to the Boise Zoo.
The doctors have been amazing with Fender since arriving at the hospital. He’s been a constant by his dad’s side. One of the OR nurses gave him a scrub top that fits him like a dress, but he’s wearing it, pretending to check his dad’s pulse every so often.
I know the hardest moment of his life is about to happen. I asked around and finally got an answer.
“Hey, sexy.” I kiss Jed’s forehead in the pre-op room. “I’m going to go get Guy for Fender.”
“They said yes?”
“Yeah, they did, but I was waiting until the last minute in case you stood up, and I got a glimpse of that fine ass of yours.”
Jed chuckles. “Thank you, Marlee.”
I refuse to cry right now even though it’s the only thing I want to do. I will not. I will remain strong and steadfast. Jed’s overbearing frame in the hospital bed hooked up to all sorts of IVs is devastating. A sight I never want to see again, and I know this is only the beginning of his battle.
I steal a final kiss before walking two blocks to get Guy.
“I love you, Jed Bryant. You’ve taught me love finds you when you least expect it and you have to love fierce and passionate like there’s no such thing as a broken heart.”
