The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series

by Patrice Wilton

  “Coming to you for this.” I felt a rush of guilt. I should never use this loving woman. Since the fire, I’ve felt like an outcast. Yet, I was pretty darn sure Fran would welcome me with open arms and she had.

  She pushed me off her. “Why? I told you I wanted good sex once in awhile. If that’s all there is, it’s fine by me. I’m not looking to get married. I have a singing career waiting for me.”

  I smiled and drew small circles around her pretty, perky breasts. I kissed the tiny scar lines and licked her nipple. “I’ll miss you when you become a famous touring star. Frannie May, the new singing sensation.”

  She smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Which part?”

  “Both.” She linked fingers with me. “I heard that you want to start a charter fishing business. I think it’s a wonderful idea. Where will it be based? Miami or the Keys?”

  “I was thinking of Costa Rica. It’s pretty cheap down there. I could have a really good life.”

  “What about the logistics of setting up a business in a foreign country? Won’t that pose a problem?”

  “No, they welcome new business.”

  “Well, what about your sons? Susie told me you have two boys in college. How can you walk away from them and your life here?”

  Defensive, I pulled back. “I wouldn’t be walking away from anything. Stephen and Sean are identical twins, and the pride of my life. They will always have a home with me, no matter where I live. And sometimes a man needs to reinvent himself. Isn’t that basically what you’re doing?”

  “Yes, well, kind of. But I’m not pulling up roots. I may go to Nashville for a time and try to make contacts in the business, but this will always be my home.”

  “I’m not like that. I don’t feel committed to just one place.”

  “Or one person, isn’t that what you mean?”

  “That too. I don’t make any bones about it. I worked in the fire department for thirty years and have always taken care of everybody. My wife did all right in the divorce, and I’ve paid for the boys’ education. They’ll graduate without student loans, and they each have a car.” He cleared his throat. “It’s time I did something for myself.”

  “I see. When you put it like that, I have to agree. You deserve to live the life you want.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, you’re going to escape to South America and start a new life.” Fran gave me a funny look. “Hook up with one of those hot Latino chicks and have cute Latino babies.”

  I laughed. “It’s Central America, and I won’t be marrying anyone.”

  “You might.” Fran stroked my leg, and I felt the blood rush to my cock.

  If she wasn’t careful, I’d be asking for seconds.

  I trapped her hand, preventing it from exploring further. “It’s a politically stable country and very beautiful. It’s the greenest country in the world. Did you know that?”

  Fran shook her head. “I don’t know anything about Costa Rica and don’t have any interest.”

  I smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “It sits between the Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean Sea. Has rainforests, volcanoes, breath-taking beaches, and is a huge tourist destination. Ripe for a charter fishing business.”

  “So’s the Keys. What’s wrong with Marathon or Key Largo? You don’t have to go all the way to Central America.”

  She put an added emphasis on the central part, which I thought was kind of cute. I decided to tease her a little. “The Keys don’t have those hot Latino chicks you mentioned.”

  “You’re a pig, you know that?” She smacked me on the arm.

  I chuckled then kissed her forehead. “I’m not. I’m just looking for a laid-back lifestyle. Maybe a bungalow on the beach, some good beer at night, and lazy days fishing.”

  “Sounds nice, but why can’t you do that here?”

  “I could. The cost of operation would be higher though. And I kind of fancy the idea of an exotic location.”

  “You want exotic, I can do exotic.” She ran a hand through her hair and gave me a sexy, pouting look.

  I brought her face to mine and gave her a long, thorough kiss. I felt a stirring in my loins and wondered if I’d be able to complete the job. Tentatively, I touched her breast, and after a few pleasurable moments, she pushed my hand away.

  “Don’t start,” she warned. “We’re having a conversation and you want to sideline me by having sex.”

  “Sex is better than talking. Especially when two people don’t agree.”

  Fran shook her head. She still had a bee in her bonnet and wouldn’t let go. “As far as the cost, I hear you’ve made a ton of money buying property. You’re a real estate mogul.”

  “Hardly. Just bought some foreclosures. It’ll be years before they’re worth anything, if ever. The rents cover maintenance and taxes but not much more.”

  “Still.” She leaned over and nibbled on my ear. “I’d hate to see you go.”

  I wrapped my arms about her and nuzzled her neck. “Hey, you’ll be so rich and famous by then that you can come see me wherever I am.”

  “Don’t bet on it. I like cowboys almost as much as country music.”

  “Frannie, you sure know how to break a man’s heart.”

  She pulled out of my arms and put a little distance between us. “I don’t think your heart is affected. You know what you want and it isn’t me.”

  “Aw, Fran. I enjoy being with you, but you know how it is.”

  “Yep. I do. Hasta la vista, baby.” She slipped out of bed, and I laid there in silence, knowing there was no way to make this right. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know where to begin.

  “You want me to go?”

  “I think so. The sex was great. I enjoyed it as much as you, but I don’t want my feelings to get hurt.”

  “Oh, Fran. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

  “You already have.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  FRAN

  After he left, I took the cover off Pepe’s cage and spoke to him gently. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I said for his ears only. “You were right, baby. That’s all he’s good for.”

  My feathered friend screeched in sympathy, and I gave him extra birdseeds to show him how much he was loved. Everyone should know they’re cared for and appreciated. Even foul talking parrots.

  Since I was no longer sleepy, I pulled out my guitar and strummed away. Music soothes me. It’s an escape and one I welcome. During my cancer treatments, it took my mind off my torment, and I would spend hours playing with lyrics, putting them to melodies of my own creation.

  The lyrics I wrote during that time were all about suffering and loss, but as I got better, so did my music. Last year, I wrote a Christmas song that got some airtime on our local radio stations. It wasn’t the answer to my financial woes, but I had a brief moment of fame.

  Although I didn’t want John to run off to Costa Rica, I was proud of him. He was setting himself up to go after his dreams and that’s exactly what I needed to do. Sure, I was in my element singing at the Candy Bar but that wouldn’t bring me fame or fortune. I had to step out of my comfort zone and go after what I wanted.

  Putting my guitar away, I got on the internet and found a list of country music festivals to attend this summer. If I could get a gig or two, it would help me gain experience and exposure. America Loves Country was coming to Palm Beach in June, and although I didn’t feel ready to audition, I knew I couldn’t pass up the chance. I had to start somewhere, and I may as well get my feet wet in my own locale with the support of my friends. But first, I’d like to get a couple of local gigs under my belt.

  The first festival was a weekend, family-friendly event with entertainment on both days. Jay Carpenter, a native-born Floridian, was headlining the event. He’d recently had a string of hits, but he wasn’t a big name. Not yet.

  I decided I would try to contact the organizers and see if they could make room for me. It was the following weekend and I would have to move quickly i
f I hoped to attend.

  * * *

  When I entered the law office the next day, I let them know I’d be taking Friday off work, then I called Candy and asked if I could skip my Saturday night gig. When she heard my plans, she wished me well. Next, I contacted the organizers and they told me to show up early, introduce myself to the bands, and see if someone could use me.

  The event was in Port Saint Lucie, a two-hour drive from Miami, so I arrived on Thursday night, checked into a cheap motel, and found my way to the nearest bar. It was close to nine o’clock, and I hadn’t had dinner. I sat at the counter and ordered a cheeseburger and a light beer on tap. While I waited for my food, I swung around and faced the crowd, wondering if Jay Carpenter would show his face. He only had two big hits, but he was riding the charts fast.

  I sipped on my beer, my eyes searching the room. At first, I didn’t see him, then a few people got up to dance and my vision was clear. Jay was standing with his back to the wall, watching the idiots on the mechanical bull.

  My hunch paid off. He was here. I had to make contact.

  I learned from the internet that Jay Carpenter was around forty and had only recently turned to music. He’d had a long career on the rodeo circuit riding the bulls and buckin’ broncos, then he’d sustained a serious injury to his left knee and could never ride again.

  During his rehab, he started playing around with a guitar, found he had a knack for it, and as they say, the rest is history.

  My burger arrived, and I quickly gobbled it down, bought another beer, and made my way over to the mechanical bull. The last thing, the very last thing in the entire world I wanted to do was to get on that thing and make a complete fool of myself, but if it got Jay’s attention, I’d stand upside down and sing ‘I wish I was in Dixie.’

  Actually speaking, I preferred option two. But the logistics of getting myself upside down didn’t strike me as overly practical, so I stood in line to ride the bull.

  A young girl in tight jeans and a low cut top sat on the bull, her hands waving freely in the air. One after another, a group of pretty girls took turns, looking like they’d been doing it most of their lives.

  Oh, God, it was my turn next. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, as Pepe would say. I put my beer down on a side table, took the cowboy hat, and climbed on top of my ride.

  It started before I was ready and threw me around like some out-of-shape rag doll. I heard someone yell at me to hold on. Hold on to what, I wanted to know.

  I tried to grab the bull’s neck and succeeded only in smashing my lower lip. Blood gushed, I screamed, and Jay swept in and pulled me off the damn thing.

  He’d managed to put an end to my humiliation, and I was so grateful that I clung to him and cried.

  He wasn’t beefy like John but slim, wiry, and strong. Up-close, I could see his face was weathered from outdoor living, but he had nice features and warm brown eyes like melted chocolate.

  “Lady, are you out of your mind?” Jay snarled. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  I pulled myself away from him and wiped my lip with my finger. Yep—it was bleeding. “Why are you yelling at me? Go away. I’m okay.”

  “I know you’re okay, because I saved your sorry ass.” He gave me a look of disgust. “What a stupid thing to do. Obviously, you’ve been drinking and don’t know a damn thing about riding.”

  “You’re dead right. Don’t know what I was thinking.” I glared at him. “Should have just stood upside down, stark naked, and sang Dixie.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I wanted to meet you.” I put my hands on my hips and tilted my nose in the air. “Well, not meet you exactly, but ask if I could sing with you at the fair this weekend.”

  “You’re crazier than I thought.”

  “I’m not crazy. I’m a singer, not a bull-rider.”

  His lips curled. “You don’t look like either.”

  “That’s what you know,” I said, sounding like a twelve-year-old. Flushing with indignation, I took a step back.

  I could feel the blood drip down my chin. Not my finest moment, that’s for sure.

  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and I gazed at it, slightly shocked. I’ve never known a city guy to carry one. He handed it to me.

  “Thanks.” I dabbed at my lip until it finally stopped bleeding. I picked up my beer bottle and took a tentative slug. Tried to act cool.

  “So you think I can sing with you tomorrow?” I gave my head a toss, flicking my hair back, and tried to look sexy.

  “No,” he answered. “How do I know if you can carry a tune?”

  “Of course I can, or I wouldn’t be asking.” I stopped the sexy act, and put my hands on my hips, staring him down.

  “I don’t need a back up singer. I already have a band and they’re good.”

  “So am I. What do you have to lose? If you don’t like my singing, you can always tell me goodbye.”

  “Goodbye.”

  “That’s not fair. I nearly knocked myself out just to get your attention. The least you can do is give me five minutes of your time.”

  “I’ve given you five minutes, and I’m not impressed.”

  “You will be. I promise.” My eyes lifted to his. “Please? Let me come to your rehearsal. You’re not so good that you don’t practice, are you?”

  He gave me a long look then nodded. “Fine. Show up by ten. Know where it’s at?”

  “I’ll find it. And thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. You’re not hired yet.”

  “I will be.” I gave him a cheeky smile, which hurt my lip big time. “See ya tomorrow.” I left him standing as I headed out the door.

  I could feel his eyes on me and hoped they weren’t checking out my ass. But just in case, I swayed my hips a little, damn near strutting with a confidence I certainly didn’t feel.

  Although the night air was refreshingly cool, I was flushed with excitement, knowing I’d made contact with someone on the way up, a person who could possibly help my career.

  All I had to do was make sure he liked me.

  The motel was only a few blocks away, and I enjoyed the short walk. I grabbed ice from the machine in the hall and iced my lip for ten minutes to reduce any possible swelling. It wasn’t the greatest neighborhood, so I double-locked the doors, checked all the windows, and climbed into bed.

  I was half asleep when I heard movement next door. The wall started banging and I heard a lot of moaning. The loud noises continued for some time, and I wondered if I should call the office and mention that someone was getting beaten up next door.

  I got out of bed and heard a woman’s voice, “Yes, yes, yes.” Followed by a scream of unmistakable pleasure.

  I slipped back under the sheets and listened to the head-banging-sex taking place in the room next to me. The couple had stamina, I had to give them credit.

  After a good twenty minutes of this, I finally heard the guy yell, “I’m coming, I’m coming,” and I yelled back, “Thank you, thank you.”

  At last, there was silence, and after a long while, I fell into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  FRAN

  The next morning, I slipped into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and walked to the lobby for coffee to take back to the room. I poured two cups so I wouldn’t have to make a second trip. Balancing one cup on top of the other, I took the key card out of my pocket, slid it in, and heard the click. I was about to enter when the couple next door came out of their room.

  I glanced up. Oh, no! It was Jay Carpenter. He’d been at the bar by himself but obviously hadn’t left that way. I could feel my cheeks flood with warmth, still, I nodded, unsure whether he recognized me.

  By his surprised look, I knew he had. “Hope we didn’t keep you up all night,” he said with a teasing smile.

  “No. Just the first half.” I glanced at the young girl in her short, tight skirt and clingy top. She looked to be about half his age, well-endowed, long slender legs, a
cute face, and shoulder-length, curly red hair.

  Jay dug his hands in the pockets of his snug-fitting Levis and winked at the girl. “We were just having fun. Weren’t we, darling?”

  I didn’t want to be having this conversation. I had my two coffees delicately balanced by my chin and one hand holding the door. “Yeah. Whatever.”

  His lady friend stood in the hall, restlessly moving about. Clearly, she was impatient to leave, but he didn’t take the hint. “Go ahead, Ally. I’ll catch up with you.”

  Before I could clear the entryway, he grabbed the coffee cups out of my hands and followed me in.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Helping. Isn’t that what you want?” He put the two cups down and turned around. His eyes flickered over my body, which reminded me that I hadn’t put on my bra.

  “I’m fine. You better go see your girlfriend. She looks a little ticked off.”

  Why was he standing here, in my room, with that amused glint in his eye? His face was unshaven, and the light scrub on his chin looked sexy. Hot looking guys shouldn’t be out walking around at seven in the morning. At least not without a leash.

  “Go.” I crossed my arms over my breasts, hiding them from view. “I’ll see you later.”

  “I’ll leave when I’m ready.” He picked up one of the coffees and took a sip. “She’s not my girlfriend, and I won’t be seeing her again.”

  “Why not?” I knew I sounded a little peevish, but he had disrupted my sleep. I had a right to be cranky. “Seems like you enjoyed her company well enough last night.”

  “Yeah, well, when I saw her this morning, I realized she’s just a kid. I don’t like woman that young.”

  “Then why did you pick her?”

  “I didn’t. She picked me. Guess I had too many beers and couldn’t see straight.”

  “You always sleep with eager young women at every show?”

  “Most of the time.” He rubbed a hand over his stubby jaw. “It comes with the territory.”

  “Hold on, Tex. If you’re thinking about banging me, you’re way off base. I don’t jump into bed with just anyone.” Of course, I had with John but that was a highly irregular occurrence for me. The Candy Bar magic had swooped in and taken away my inhibitions. It wasn’t my fault.