The driver led him upstairs to drop off his suitcases in one of the many bedrooms that, for starters, would be split between four contestants each. This would change weekly for the first month, when two contestants, one male and one female, would be eliminated from the show, forcing the remaining semi-finalists to consolidate as needed.
Once they got down to the final eight, everyone could have their own private space. And Tony Paul was completely positive he’d be one of those eight. He already spotted the room he wanted to claim as his own. It reminded him a lot of his home back in Austin, with its private shower with an ocean view.
Maybe he’d even share the space with some lucky female.
He thought about Lacy then, and how she looked when he saw her just a week before. She had covered that luscious body with lots of ink, which had been an immediate turnoff. But the more he thought about her, and remembered how she felt in his arms, the more he considered the possibilities of a Southern Nights reunion between the sheets. Who knew what kind of sexy tricks the dirty girl now had up her colorful sleeves? Pierced and tatted? She was a wildcat then and now.
And it wasn’t like she could try to trap him again. His baby-making days were over.
Needless to say, the more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. He couldn’t wait to see her again.
He tossed his suitcase on the bottom bunk of one of the two bunk beds in the room before he headed for the shower.
It was time to reminisce about the good old days.
Jonah Riley stepped out of the limo in front of the Fierce estate, staring up at the grand mansion he would call home for the foreseeable future… at least as long as the viewing audience thought he should stay on the show, anyway.
A thrill ran through him as he realized it was the first house he would be sharing with Lacy Abernathy, the woman who had stolen his heart months before. He remembered what it was like to hold her, to taste her kiss. He had come alive in her arms, and had brought her back to life in his. He couldn’t wait to see her again, to stare into those big brown eyes that haunted his dreams. Life hadn’t been complete since she left it. Truth be told, winning the competition was a distant second to living in that house with her, close enough for one more chance to convince her of his love.
Music was his job. Lacy Abernathy was his dream.
“Let me get that for you, sir,” the driver said as he reached for the duffle bag that was packed solid with Jonah’s belongings. Jonah hoisted the heavy bag onto his strong shoulder, grabbing his guitar case with his free hand.
“I’ve got it, thanks,” he said. The driver nodded and then led him into the massive white monstrosity sitting atop a hill.
There were times that Jonah thought he was used to living in Southern California. But every time he caught a glimpse of the downtown skyline, the peaks of the mountains just north, or the glistening blue Pacific to the west, he was overcome by the improbability of it all. Just a year before, he was living on a farm in Texas. His work had been hard and grueling, physically demanding.
Now he was about to become a worldwide TV star, pampered with a jet-set lifestyle he had only ever read about.
What were the odds?
It was a far cry from singing to the frogs in the creek that cut through his daddy’s property, or singing to his beloved sister, Leah, whenever she had a rough night and couldn’t sleep because of some horrible coughing fit.
He thought of his family with a sigh. He hated leaving them, but felt a little better knowing they would be embraced by the Fierce community. They were moving into an apartment complex owned by the studio, which offered the families of contestants a safe existence far away from the prying eyes of the press. They could live a normal life between the live performances, and Jonah knew that his sister was beside herself to be included. She’d left school, along with their apartment in Orange County, to happily throw herself into the Fierce experience with him.
For a girl whose life, and dreams, were threatened to be cut in half by her cystic fibrosis, it was an added bonus for Jonah that he could give her this once-in-a-lifetime experience. She had always been his biggest cheerleader when it came to the music. She would always be his biggest fan.
But he missed her already. He missed his mama. He hadn’t lived apart from them ever, not in almost twenty-five years. He just hoped they wouldn’t be too lonely. He had no idea what they could expect from their end of things, since all they really had to do was show up Mondays and Tuesdays for the weekly tapings.
Mondays and Tuesdays, he thought with a sigh. Those days held significant meaning for him now. He became a star every Monday night at Southern Nights, the sprawling nightclub in Austin where groupies came from all over the city to get a few seconds with the man poised to be a hot new star.
Tuesdays were the days he could be himself again, and more himself than he’d ever been. They were the days he had given to Lacy. And they hadn’t been the same without her.
God, he couldn’t wait to see her again. He took the stairs two at a time to find out where he was bunking, which, for the first month at least, was with three other guys.
He found the room with ease. There was already some gear there, loaded on a bottom bunk. He tossed his duffle bag onto the top bunk across the room just as another contestant entered. The tall man had to weigh 400 pounds at the very least. He had cropped blond hair and piercing blue eyes, but also the widest smile Jonah had ever seen.
“Thank God you got the top bunk,” he said with wink. “You’re a cutie. I’d hate to crush you in your sleep.” He held out his hand. “Sylvester Tyrrell.”
“Jonah Riley,” Jonah replied as he shook the man’s hand. His hand was soft but the grip was sure.
Sylvester chuckled. “That accent is pure southern comfort. Where are you from, Jonah Riley?”
“Texas,” Jonah beamed with the appropriate amount of pride. “You?”
“Detroit, baby,” he said before he launched into a Motown classic a capella. His voice was bluesy, soulful and strong, but it was Sylvester’s attitude that stood out most to Jonah.
He really was “fierce.”
Another voice joined Sylvester’s. They turned to see the man who had just walked into the room. He was older, in his forties easily, with long black hair and piercing coal black eyes. He wore black head to toe, with studded leather around his neck and each wrist. The leather biker boots he wore gave him a few more inches of height, which made the slight, thinner man look a little more imposing as he approached.
Though he looked like he stepped out of some ‘80s heavy metal video, his voice was as smooth as silk as he sang harmony for Sylvester. He put his guitar case by the other bunk bed before he held out his hand to Sylvester. “Nice pipes, man.”
“You, too,” Sylvester complimented warmly. “Sylvester Tyrell. Detroit.”
“Shiloh Yazzie,” the man responded. “SoCal born and bred.”
Sylvester pointed to Jonah. “This is Jonah, from Texas.”
“Another Texas boy?” said a new voice, coming from the corner of the room, and the entrance to their private bathroom. The larger man approached. He stood as tall as Jonah, but not quite as tall as Tyrell. He wore some bulk around his middle, but was a striking man with dark hair and blue eyes. Sylvester’s eyes swept over him with immediate appreciation. The new man, who wore a robe and had a towel around his neck, held out his hand to his new roomies. “Tony Paul Hollis, Austin.”
Jonah’s jaw nearly clanked all the way to the floor. Clearly he had heard him wrong. But the longer he stared into that familiar face, the more he could see the resemblance to Gay Hollis, his former boss at Southern Nights.
If this was her son, that meant he was the deadbeat dad of Lacy’s son Cody, the one who had broken her so badly she couldn’t trust again.
Rage boiled in him as he watched Tony Paul make the rounds to Sylvester and to Shiloh. When he turned to Jonah, he wore a smile that Jonah instantly knew was as fake as a three-dollar bill. “What
part of Texas are you from?”
Jonah’s voice was stiff as he responded. “North of Austin. Tiny town. You wouldn’t have heard of it.”
Tony Paul laughed. “You’re probably right. Nice to meet a neighbor anyway. What did you say your name was?”
I didn’t, thought Jonah. “Jonah Riley,” he finally stated, watching the other man’s eyes for any speck of recognition.
There was none.
That meant that Jonah knew a hell of a lot more about him than he knew about Jonah. That suited Jonah just fine.
Tony Paul walked over to his bunk to take out some clothes. “Any of you guys see the ladies yet? What kind of crop are we looking at?”
Sylvester shrugged. “I haven’t seen anyone but men, but that’s fine by me,” he added with a wink. Shiloh laughed as he climbed up on top of the bunk Tony Paul claimed. Jonah was glad he hadn’t claimed it by accident. The urge might prove too strong to resist collapsing the fragile bed in two and crushing that pious asshole in between.
“I haven’t seen anyone but you guys. I’m fine with that, too,” he added. “We don’t want too many distractions, and none of you guys exactly trip my trigger.”
The other men laughed, but Jonah turned to Tony Paul. “I only saw the ones I auditioned with. What’s your type? Maybe I can tell you if someone you’d like made it through.”
Tony Paul laughed as he dressed. “Warm and willing,” he said with a slick grin that Jonah immediately wanted to punch right off of his arrogant face. He left Lacy alone and pregnant when she was only eighteen. Had he no shame? No remorse?
Clearly he didn’t.
Jonah held his temper as best as he could. “I’m sure there’s always someone around like that.”
“Thank God,” Tony Paul drawled as he pulled his shirt over his protruding middle. “I plan to be here a while. Might as well have as much fun as I can. Am I right?” he asked the other two. They murmured their agreement but neither Shiloh nor Sylvester seemed anxious to hook up with anyone. Shiloh grabbed his guitar to practice and Sylvester sang to himself as he unpacked his belongings.
Tony Paul turned to Jonah. “You look like you work out. Care to spot me in the weight room? Can’t win this race looking like a hippo, if you know what I mean.”
Jonah’s hands balled into fists as he counted backwards from ten. He could tell out of the corner of his eye that Sylvester had overheard the remark, but opted not to comment.
“I was going to grab something to eat, actually,” Jonah said, hoping Tony Paul wouldn’t change his plans and join him, since what Jonah really wanted to do was hang out by the front and intercept Lacy the minute she walked in the door. He didn’t want her ambushed by her ex like he had been.
“Have fun,” Tony Paul offered before he left the room. Jonah turned back to Sylvester.
“Sorry about that, man.”
Sylvester just shrugged. “If I let comments like that define me, I certainly wouldn’t be here, would I? I know who I am. And the lion doesn’t care what the sheep think.”
Jonah smiled. He liked Sylvester already.
Jonah headed downstairs to wait for Lacy.
Chapter Two
Jules carried her grandson, Cody, in one arm as she followed one of the movers into her new townhouse apartment. The complex was designed in Tudor style, with pointed roofs and beveled windows, all tucked in a gated cul-de-sac in Burbank, California, within a few miles of the Fierce studios.
The apartment itself was larger than anything Jules had ever lived in, with over sixteen-hundred square feet. There were three bedrooms, one downstairs, two upstairs, a formal dining room, a large island kitchen with tons of cabinet space. The open kitchen spilled out into a living room complete with its own fireplace. It was already furnished and sparkling clean, stocked with all the staples anyone might need for an extended stay, including dishes, pots and pans, appliances and linens.
There was art on the walls and books and knickknacks on the shelves. It was all the comforts of home to make the families of the Fierce contestants feel welcomed. The only things missing were the personal touches, which they were encouraged to supply to make their temporary housing a home.
The only thing Jules needed to bring were clothes for the both of them and toys for Cody, though the child’s room upstairs was fully stocked with a racecar bed and scores of toys already. Cody squealed with delight when he saw it. Jules set up the toddler gate for the stairs before she went to her own bedroom to unpack her suitcase.
That was all she planned to unpack for now. She had no idea how the viewing audience would take to someone as alternative as Lacy, so she wanted to be prepared in case she only got one week of exposure out of the deal.
She’d hate to unpack everything only to pack it all back up in a week.
Jules Abernathy wasn’t a risk-taker on her best day. Now that she was thrown into the middle of a brand new situation, where she had no idea what to expect, she planned to hedge all bets whenever possible.
She was perusing the pantry contents for lunch when someone knocked at her door. Jules wore a frown as she answered to a slender, blonde, blue-eyed child standing with an older blonde with teased blonde hair and dancing blue eyes. The older woman held a casserole dish in her hands. “Welcome to the neighborhood!” she announced merrily.
“I’m Leah!” the child said as she held out a hand. “My brother was dating your daughter.”
Now it all made sense. Lacy had already warned her how many familiar faces she could expect to see during the taping of the show. She still believed that the producers had arranged everything, but she couldn’t convince Lacy of that.
But then again, she had never really been able to convince Lacy of anything.
“We thought we’d welcome fellow Texans with a casserole,” offered the older woman as she held up the dish. “Tex-Mex at its best! I’m Violet Riley. But you can call me Vi.”
“Jules,” she finally said as she opened the door wider. She wasn’t used to socializing, and felt extraordinarily put out, but her guests were too bubbly to send away without hurting someone’s feelings.
The show already promised to do enough of that on its own.
“Is Cody here?” Leah asked as she raced into the room.
“Upstairs, playing,” she answered the girl, who was gone in a flash.
Vi turned to Jules. “You’ll have to forgive her. She loves kids.”
Jules nodded. She carried the dish towards the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
Jules used the single-serve coffeemaker to prepare her guest one of the cups of gourmet coffee provided. “Did you just come in from Texas?”
Vi shook her head. “No, we’ve been here several months. We took a chance that Jonah would make it through. Plus I think we just needed the change in scenery,” she lied easily, keeping most of their troubles in Austin, and with Gay Hollis, to herself. “How about you?”
“Same,” Jules nodded. “Can’t guarantee how long we’ll stay, though.”
Vi laughed. “Isn’t that true of anything?”
Jules conceded with a small nod and even meeker smile that it was.
Leah brought Cody downstairs, cooing to him as she perched him on her hip. The small boy remembered his friend and had an immediate hug for Vi.
“Look at you!” Vi gushed as she held him tight. “You’ve grown a whole inch since I saw you last.”
Jules slid her a glance. “When was the last time you saw him?”
Vi had to think about it. “Several months back. I babysat him when Jonah and Lacy went out.”
Jules nodded. These were nice enough people but that whole relationship had been ill-advised from the beginning. Jules was glad it was over, for all of their sakes. She pulled out four plates so they could eat lunch.
Right in the middle of enjoying the tasty casserole, their pleasant, if strained, small talk was interrupted by the sound of a large truck outside.
Out of curiosity, all three females headed toward the bay window seat facing the street. A massive moving truck was maneuvering the tricky curve with care, followed by a luxury SUV with Texas plates.
Jules frowned before she ever saw the driver.
“Wonder who that could be,” mused Vi. They watched an older brunette with soft curves and sky high hair climb out of the driver’s side. She wore Texas head to toe, from her red, blue and white shirt to her expensive cowboy boots. A striking younger brunette exited the passenger side.
Jules turned to Vi, who watched the scene unfold with interest. She really didn’t know who they were. “That’s Gay Hollis and her daughter, Jacinda.”
Vi’s eyes were wide as they swung around to Jules. “Why are they here?”
Jules lifted Cody up into a close hug. “Because Gay goes wherever her son, Tony Paul, goes.”
Vi glanced back out to the street, where the owner of the biggest nightclub in Austin, Texas, barked orders to the moving men who carried her stuff inside since she far needed more things to feel at home.
And clearly she didn’t think she’d be going anywhere for a long, long time.
“I take it you don’t know anything about the Hollises,” Jules said as she turned away from the window. She wanted to keep as Cody as far apart from that evil family as possible, which would prove impossible to do now that they were living right across the street.
Southern Rocker Showdown Page 2
