It was late. What she knew at this very moment was that Lucky was sorry for the way he had left, that he knew the truth behind the kissing he had witnessed between her and Jaxon, and that he regretted coming close to sleeping with someone. He wanted her to forgive him, which in truth she had already done, taking most of the blame onto herself. He was forgiven, but could he be trusted? Could she? But most importantly, could he handle the chaos of her world?
It was late and unfortunately, her world was only just beginning to turn. Tomorrow was a travel day but there’d be no time to enjoy the scenery as they passed through the skies from one big city to the next. Travel day, show day—her responsibilities didn’t know the difference.
Lucky finally raised his head and spoke again. “Do you forgive me, Trista?”
“Yes, okay? I do.” She hated stinging him with her curtness. “I’m sorry, too. Your song… was beautiful. I appreciate you coming here, but the truth is that I think you’re better off back in Tennessee. You and me, we’re too different. You just don’t belong in this world, Lucky.”
“Neither do you, Trista.”
She hadn’t moved an inch since she’d let Lucky in the room except for to rub his back, which had been a huge mistake, and he hadn’t budged since dropping to his knees in front of her. The scared look on her face must have been what he was trying so intently to figure out. She couldn’t believe what he’d just said. The truth of it sounded so easy coming out of his mouth. But what was she supposed to do?
“Trista, are you okay?”
She wished she had a tissue or a long sleeve to hide her face. “If I don’t belong here, then where exactly am I supposed to be?” The question was full of chilling truth. She set her jaw, trying to hold onto a shred of dignity. What was he trying to do to her? Strip everything away with a song and a few words? His tears?
Her knee caps warmed under his two large hands as he pressed them together from his place before her on the floor. Unwavering, he made his request, “Come home with me, Trista. Be with me.”
Without more than a few words explanation, she got up, narrowly clipping him in the chin with her knee, and walked like a possessed person to the door.
“I have to go. Please, if you really mean that, please don’t be mad at me. I have to go, Lucky. I have to go.”
Downstairs, she stood on the hotel’s immaculately clean valet curb and called Jaxon. She barely remembered riding the elevator or maybe she’d taken the stairs. Shit, her head was spinning. As the phone rang, the last thing she’d heard Lucky mutter before walking out on him strangled her guilty heart.
“You’re killing me, darlin’.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Girls weren’t supposed to walk out on serenades. But his had. Trista’d left him in her room without a single clue—not a no, not a yes, not even a maybe. His heart didn’t feel like it beat inside his chest. His thoughts wouldn’t make sense no matter how hard he tried to put them in order. Finally it hit him that this must be how she’d felt the night he took off.
He’d left her that night with nothing and now she’d repaid him the favor.
Trista had at least faced him before walking out, giving him a quick view to the confusion setting in her blue-green eyes. He supposed she’d given him as much as her mind could handle in that instant. She doesn’t want me to be mad at her, he remembered her saying. So where was she going and what was she doing that would make him angry? Not knowing left him unsettled but there was no way he had come this far to give up now.
He spied her extra room key on the nightstand, grabbed it in a moment of clarity and then walked calmly as he could down the hallway. It’d do him no good to go running after her like a madman.
* * * *
Trista kicked repeatedly at the curb and licked her dry lips. Calling her best friend shouldn’t be this damned nerve-racking.
She debated hanging up and calling a cab just as he answered. “Jaxon, I need a ride.”
“Hey Trissy, I’m kind of busy right now so what’s up?” A guitar chord strumming in the otherwise quiet background screeched to an end. He must be alone and she knew better than to interrupt one of these sacred midnight writing sessions of his but she was desperate.
She forced more emotion into her plea. “I need you to come down and get me away from this hotel. We need to talk.” Please don’t make me beg, Jaxon, you little shit. He knew how central he was to her debacle with Lucky. How could he be blowing her off after spending the last week telling her he’d drag his cousin back by the balls if she wanted him to? Lucky had just asked her to drop everything, tour be damned, and be his woman in Tennessee. She should tell Jaxon that. That would get his attention.
She pressed the small white cell phone hard against her cheek, anxious for his reply. Jaxon could be non-committal and selfish with her some other time. “Look, I can’t talk about it now, but I need you to come down and get me. I’ll be waiting outside by the curb. So please just get a car and hurry,” she pleaded, keeping her eyes trained on the front entrance of the hotel lobby.
It was a long six minutes she stood on the Ritz’s curb, waiting for Jaxon to pull up in whatever car he would manage to borrow. Hotel guests came and went. A valet plunked trash into a can, which caught her eye. He was just a kid but age didn’t make a man. Actions did.
She shook her head in exasperation. Thoughts flashed to the two men in her life whose actions had turned her into the rope in a human tug-o-war. Lucky, who could be making his way through the lobby any minute now, wanting an answer to his offer, and Jaxon, who was about to endure a very long, aimless ride with her. Who knew where they’d end up?
She shaded her eyes from the young valet to a seam in the sidewalk and a bent dandelion close to the sole of her cloth Mary Jane shoe. She avoided crushing it as she hoped against hope that Lucky would not come out those doors before she had the chance to get away and think.
* * * *
Lucky had no idea of where she was headed so he rode the elevator down to the lobby. At this hour, most likely everything would be closed but he checked nonetheless. There was a smattering of people in the lounge, including Stefan’s familiar face, sitting amongst a few of the crew he’d seen earlier that night and some pretty young ladies he hadn’t.
But the only person who mattered to him was Trista. Around the corner and down a ways was a darkened spa with a sign hanging in the window that said By Appointment Only. They were closed for the evening and beyond that, he didn’t think she was the type to let someone fuss over her sexy, messy hair. Aside from a few banquet halls and the fine men and women of the hotel staff, he’d come up empty handed.
Fresh air.
It had been one of the first things he’d sought out after seeing his woman kissing the lips of his lecherous cousin. Those were the edited thoughts he’d had that night about Jaxon. The air that consumed him standing at that godforsaken window hadn’t felt fresh at all. He’d needed physical distance between himself and the object that had turned him crazy and thoughtless. Maybe Trista had done the same now.
* * * *
Seconds before she would have given up on him coming through for her, Jaxon pulled up. The passenger side door flew open from the inside. She would have to thank Stefan later for loaning Jaxon his baby. Her right foot barely hit the floor mat before Jaxon gave it too much gas and jumped them forward a few feet.
“For Christ’s sake, Jaxon, take it easy! I appreciate your efforts, but I’d like to keep my legs intact here,” she lashed out just as her head slammed into the seat.
“Sorry, Trissy.”
“No, you’re not.” She huffed.
“I am.”
Fine, maybe he was. But she wasn’t done and knew he’d put up with whatever else she had to say. Jaxon shouldn’t have indulged her this way but he so obviously hadn’t gotten over the guilt from cancelling on her, which at this point had to be the most ironic thing she’d ever experienced, ever. It was impossible not to wonder how life would be at this v
ery moment had Jaxon not asked her to let Lucky take his place on that trip so she wouldn’t have to go alone. And here they were, a month later with Jaxon’s hand-picked substitute being the one who wanted to steal her away from the band.
“Sorry, old habit gettin’ outta places in a hurry.” He glanced in the rearview mirror as he lurched forward again and nearly hit a well-dressed couple. Stefan would kill him if she tattled. “You want me to wait for Lucky? He just came out. I can turn around if you want.”
“No!”
“Ah shit, Trissy. We on the run from my cousin? What’d he do to you now?”
“Just drive, Jaxon.”
His turn to huff.
* * * *
He retraced his steps down the length of the lobby, through the pristine glass doors of the front entrance and out onto the valet curb. Two things caught his eye in the very same instant. First, an out-of-place yellow dandelion. There wasn’t a speck of stray litter or a ground up cigarette butt anywhere on this curb. So it was strange that a weed had sprouted up unnoticed in the crack of the cement.
He bent down and plucked it up. He’d always done that as a child, and then carried it carefully to his mother’s grave on his family’s land. He eyed it, but only for a second because next, he saw the taillights of a very familiar make and model of car flame to red. He’d never seen another Saab in all his years and the fact that Jaxon and Stefan each had one had amused him. Jaxon’s was black so the white one that practically jumped its way out of the valet’s long pull through had to be Stefan’s. A window rolled open and instantly, long honey blonde tendrils flew out.
Trista was leaving in Stefan’s beloved car, the one he insisted their road crew tow along to every tour stop as Ben had let out when he’d asked about the fancy wheels, while Stefan remained entertained in the lounge. One guess at who the driver had to be. He gave no more thought to the flower weed in his hand, stuffing it along with his chilled fingers into the pockets of his jeans and stood there, waiting for her to come back.
* * * *
If she could beat back the fear inside her gut that had bloomed in the wake of Lucky’s proposal by the morning, then maybe she could show him her face again. But not right now. She glanced back as they drove off and saw the tall, square-shouldered figure she knew to be Lucky, standing upright on the clean curb she had just stood on, his hands in his jean’s pockets, looking after the car. Enough guilt heaped itself on her in that instant that she almost asked Jaxon to take her back, if only to give her time to assure Lucky she was physically okay.
But she couldn’t.
She had chosen to settle for the least level of discomfort in her world at the moment. That happened to be Jaxon—boss, former roommate, best friend. The titles saddened her. They just didn’t mean as much anymore.
She cast her eyes to her palm and settled her brow bone against the cool car window.
“You got any specific place in mind?” Jaxon asked. “I can only drive aimlessly for so long.”
“No, I have no idea. I obviously didn’t plan a route.” Scooching lower into her seat, her body began to take on the oversized, exaggerated form of a curled up lima bean.
“Are we in the D.C. part or the Virginny part?”
“Oh my god, seriously, Jaxon?” See, this was why she could never leave, because Jaxon would literally be lost without her. Thank God they’d stayed at the same hotel or he’d have never gotten to her tonight. “Virginia.” He’d annoyed her and she shot him a look that said so.
“Right, I knew that.” The inside corner of his lip puckered inward, although he still managed to look tough. Jaxon was Australian through and through, always such an easy study in body language. He didn’t believe in wasting energy on hiding what was on his mind, usually. Even though she figured he must be at least somewhat on edge inside, his concentration seemed bent on keeping them relatively safe and on the road. Which she had to admit, was nice.
“Yeah.” She still couldn’t believe how they’d let things become so awkward.
It was then that Vangie’s sultry, devious face crept into Trista’s mind and mentally cussed her out for being a home wrecker. Something Vangie had slurred at her a few times in their real lives. Sadly, she realized the woman was right. Except it wasn’t only Jaxon’s home she was wrecking, it was the future one Lucky had just offered.
This was going to be a long night.
But it was only a temporary distraction. Another thought of Lucky tore at her, his sincere and heartbreaking voice touched by the country. The blue eyes she hadn’t been able to say yes to. She shut her mouth as Jaxon drove on.
* * * *
It wasn’t gonna happen. She was long gone. He finally gave up and headed back inside, his head and his pride hanging lower than low.
What didn’t she want him to be mad about? There could only be one thing. The choice she’d made seemed as clear as the expensive paneled glass he had just passed by.
After all that, his lady had chosen Jaxon, again.
He made his way back to Trista’s room, hoping not to run into anyone from her world. He’d seen his bag in the corner and needed it so he could pack his things and leave. As soon as he opened the door, he missed her. Wanting to make sure he had his own room key, he shoved a hand into his pocket. The little dandelion he’d forgotten about fell out onto the floor. In his stupor, he picked it up and set it on her nightstand, knowing he’d probably never get to tell her why it was so special. Then he went over and retrieved his bag. He wouldn’t need the guitar.
Without a backward glance, he left her room, heading for his, shaking his head in utter disbelief.
What did he expect? Good karma wouldn’t reciprocate for a guy like him. He should have let Trista speak during the call when he’d made it back to Tennessee. After the way he’d left things and the dodgy night he’d nearly spent with the girl from Slanger’s, he knew that Trista deserved better, even though at the time he felt she’d given herself to Jaxon. It didn’t excuse his actions. It didn’t take away how bad he felt, even though the plan had been nothing more than to stab back at Jaxon for taking Trista from him. Or more accurately, for refusing to let her go.
She’d said it herself, that she didn’t want any more apologies from people who weren’t supposed to hurt her in the first place. And he was full of them. Once he was inside his room, he fell onto his bed. He would pack when he could think straight again.
* * * *
Jaxon continued along the frontage roads as Trista fumed inwardly, her jaw so tight, a new level of tension headache began to set in. She didn’t care that it was freezing cold out. She lowered her window some more to let the velocity of their speed and the wind carry her outstretched arm in turbulent drifts. Blasts taunted Jaxon’s dirty blonde hair, still coiffed in the Elvis-like stage poof she’d given him earlier. He didn’t complain as she knew he wouldn’t.
The hotels they were passing now weren’t nearly as sparkly as the Ritz. How nice it would be to have a room at one of these. Away from everything. Then they were on the freeway, heading southwest, presumably back toward the venue. She was sure Jaxon didn’t know any other location. Her cell phone rang in her smock dress pocket.
At least Jaxon had waited for the third ring before butting in. “You gonna answer that?” She didn’t appreciate the older brother tone, one she’d heard more than occasionally throughout their past.
She couldn’t answer. It was Lucky’s number. She hadn’t thought anything through yet, still stuck simmering in her confusion. If he wanted more from her than a few pleasantries, they would be left back where they were when she’d fled the hotel. The ringing stopped. And then a few seconds later, began again. It was Lucky.
“Come on, Trissy, answer the damn phone.”
It was easy for him to say.
Jaxon snatched the phone from her hand. Her mouth fell open and her eyebrows furrowed to the point of almost becoming one. She grabbed for it but her attempts caused Jaxon to swerve so she let go.
&nb
sp; “Hello?” Jaxon huffed out. “Yeah, Lucky? Hang on a minny, here she is.” He came close to shoving the phone in her face. Reluctantly, she took it into her hand and spoke quietly. Ashamed, she hoped Lucky would be in an understanding mood.
“Hi,” she said as she bit at a loose cuticle, leaving it all the more tender and raw.
“Trista?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, well, I was worried, I wanted to make sure you were okay…You’re with Jaxon,” Lucky stated slowly, giving each word plenty of time to cut into her.
“Lucky, I’m sorry for the way I left you there.” She paused but he had no response for her so she continued, not wanting him to worry. “Um, I’m just on a drive, clearing my head.”
“Can I ask where you’re heading to? In case anyone wants to know.” The southern notes of a true gentleman softened his voice, making it hard to hear the anger, but she knew it must be there. He’d asked her to leave everything behind, to be his. And she’d walked blankly out of the room.
“Tonight’s venue.” She glanced toward Jaxon, knowing better than to assume with him. He nodded back to her.
“Trista, are you coming back tonight? Should I wait for you?” Lucky’s voice had a way of claiming her without saying the words.
“Lucky, I just need a few hours to think. I’ll be back as soon as I can clear my head.” Speaking this curtly was the only way to keep the distance she needed for now.
“All right, Trista. Be safe.” He hung up.
God, how could she be doing this to him?
Jaxon pulled in to the outdoor amphitheater and drove a ways to a space in the furthest rear parking lot facing the woods. Rural grassy hills surrounded them, slightly hidden under a few patches of an untimely spring snowfall. The engine quietly died down.
“Trissy, what’s going on?” Jaxon turned toward her, frowning. No doubt he was trying to figure out what she was projecting onto him.
She sighed and sat back further into the cushioned leather where nighttime shadows hid her. Jaxon loosened a wayward piece of windblown hair from her face and tucked it behind her left ear. The curve of his finger caught in the tangled end of that strand, causing her to turn directly toward him, coming out of her evasive sitting position.
Sidewalk Flower Page 23
