Southern Rocker Chick

by Ginger Voight

  “Never stop pushing yourself, darlin’,” he said in that soft, reassuring voice. “Amaze yourself every day. You amaze me every single day.”

  He sounded so sincere that my heart stopped. “Jonah.”

  He overlooked my admonishment. “Sing again,” he instructed as he strummed his guitar. I closed my eyes and could see his fingers against the strings.

  It only confused me more.

  By Friday I was a nervous wreck. Despite all our practice, I felt no better prepared to perform. If I could, I would have pulled him onstage with me and made him play, just so I could have that strong support behind me.

  As it turned out, however, Jonah didn’t show up at all. He texted me early that evening, telling me something had come up.

  I wrote him back, asking if he was okay. He said it was just family stuff, which took me by surprise. He had a family?

  I wondered why we hadn’t talked about them until now. I could only pray he wasn’t cheating on some pregnant wife somewhere, though I doubted any wife would let a man call another woman nightly, to practice the same song for hours.

  I began to hint around a bit, starting with Julie, to figure out Jonah’s story. No one really knew anything, but several girls made it clear that they hoped he was single. Apparently Jonah Riley was the new stud to catch at Southern Nights. It filtered back to me that even Jacinda had her eye on him, which made my growing fascination with the man even riskier.

  If I won him and she didn’t, after winning a place on the Southern Nights stage when she didn’t, then it would ensure that she’d hate me forever. And I couldn’t really blame her. If someone walked into my life and got everything I had always wanted, I’d be a pissy bitch, too.

  Hell, I was pissy enough she wanted Jonah. Why did she have to zero in on the one person in Southern Nights who actually liked me? Was it because he liked me? Could she be that petty?

  The drama simply reminded me what a horrible idea it was to get involved with anyone from the club. In the end, I dropped the song from the set entirely. I just didn’t think I could pull it off and I didn’t want to land right on my face. I sang another tried and true set, which the audience loved. The security formed a line between me and the crowd, which made them love me more. I was someone now. I was “Blaze.”

  But I was out of sorts as I drove home that evening. Everything was the same at the club except for one important detail: Jonah wasn’t there. It made me feel even lonelier than I usually felt.

  I got home, paid Danielle and sent her on her way, then crawled into bed. I had just cued up the Aerosmith song when I got a text. My heart raced when I saw it was from Jonah.

  “How was the show?”

  I texted back. “It was OK. I didn’t do the song.”

  “Why not?”

  I hesitated as my fingers hovered over the phone. Finally, before I could change my mind, I sent, “You weren’t there?” with a winking emoticon.

  The phone rang a second later. I answered before it roused Cody. “Hey,” I said softly. His voice was low and gravely as he responded, as if he had just gotten out of bed. “Is everything okay?” I asked, thinking about his family emergency.

  “Fine,” he answered. “I missed you.”

  My stomach tightened. It was everything I wanted him to say, and everything I knew he shouldn’t. “Jonah.”

  “It’s true,” he insisted. “I really wanted to hear you sing tonight.”

  Is that all? “Thanks.”

  “Are you already in bed?” he asked in an even softer voice.

  My eyes closed as I stretched out on my bed. “No,” I lied.

  His voice was so soft, barely a whisper. “Do you want to be?”

  I gasped out loud. “Jonah.”

  “I want you, Lacy.” His truthful confession distorted my senses like a straight shot of morphine. “Come stay with me tonight.”

  I sighed as I glanced over at my sleeping child. “I already told you I don’t do that. I don’t do coffee… I don’t do lunch. And I don’t do late night booty calls.”

  His voice sharpened. “Is that what you think it is?”

  “Isn’t it?” I shot back. “You’re upset. You’re horny. You want a distraction.”

  “I want you,” he reiterated. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the night we met.”

  I thought about all the girls from the club who were gunning for the new stud on the block. “Are you sure you don’t want Jacinda?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  I sighed. “I overheard a couple of girls talking at the club tonight. Jacinda has her eye on you. I’m sure if you called her…,” I trailed off, hoping like hell he wouldn’t take me up on that offer.

  “If I wanted to call her I would have gotten her number,” he snapped. “Just because she wants me doesn’t mean I want her.” I held my breath and waited for him to continue. “I don’t know what kind of men you’ve met before, but I’m not looking for someone to fill my bed just because I’m lonely. If I wanted that, I could get that in any club in Austin.” He let that sink in before he asked, “What do you want?”

  My answer was immediate. “I want to sing.” He didn’t say anything, so I forged on. “That’s all I can share with anybody, Jonah.” Again I glanced at Cody. “My heart is not mine to give away.”

  I could almost hear his jaw drop. “There’s someone else?”

  He thought I meant another man. I supposed in a way I did. Cody was top priority and had been since the day he was born. No man would ever be able to compete with that. “Yes.”

  “I see,” he said in a tightly controlled voice. “Do you love him?”

  There was absolutely no hesitation. “More than music.” He said nothing. I knew I was slamming the door on his interest, but it was necessary. I couldn’t risk my heart again. In doing so, I risked two. “It’s just something I keep really separate from my singing career. I have to.”

  “He’s a lucky guy,” he muttered.

  I chuckled. If only he knew. “Thanks, Jonah.” We both fell silent for a moment as we wrestled with something to say. Finally I asked, “Are you going to be at work tomorrow?”

  “Depends,” he murmured in that same gravelly drawl. “Are you going to sing our song?”

  I trembled in spite of myself. What was he doing to me? “Maybe,” I found myself saying in the same soft way.

  “Then I’ll be there with bells on.”

  Again we said nothing; we just hung on the line with each other. Finally I bid him a soft goodnight.

  “Goodnight, Lacy,” he drawled, and it sounded just like a term of endearment. I was all flushed and tingly when I hung up, and I proceeded to dream about him all night long, standing on stage with me, playing his guitar, as I hit that epic note at last.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next day I arrived at Southern Nights to a whirlwind of activity. I sought Gay out immediately, who informed me that Jasper Carrington was coming back to Southern Nights, and bringing his new star act with him. Ariel Acardi was barely legal, but she was a worldwide sensation. As such, the whole crew at Southern Nights was running around like chickens with their heads cut off to make the place as Ariel-friendly as possible.

  I knew that Gay wouldn’t go to this much trouble to book talent. She had another agenda, and I suspected it had everything to do with Jasper Carrington.

  I had followed Carrington’s career following the debacle with Tony Paul. I knew about his shady contracts and his toying around with underlings, treating them like his own personal puppets only there to polish his tarnished reputation. The way I figured it, Gaynell had a lot in common with him. I suspected this was why she was so eager to bring him back to Austin. It certainly wasn’t to boost my career yet, otherwise she’d be more hands-on developing me instead of merely stripping me down to fill up her club a few nights a week.

  She was far more interested in impressing Jasper’s protégé. She enlisted every single person in the club to
help her rearrange the dressing room to include the approved color scheme for Her Highness. Sammy decided to help and ended up smashing his left hand, breaking one of the fragile bones. It swelled like a balloon and he couldn’t bend any of his fingers. Worse, the report from the ER doctors said that it would have to be in a splint for six weeks, which instantly left the house band without a guitarist. I could play some, but I wasn’t good enough to front a band.

  Gay was beside herself. She didn’t have time for this kind of complication. Frankly, neither did I. Despite Jasper’s reputation as a slick character, he was the best shot I had to get the hell out of Austin, away from Southern Nights, to start a significant career that could benefit my son. That was still, and always, Priority One.

  This was my first real chance at something better. It should have happened four years ago, but better late than never. When Gay gathered us together to ask for suggestions, I made the only suggestion I could. I was going to put the strongest people on stage with me.

  “Jonah plays,” I offered.

  His eyes widened and shot to mine. I knew he had been playing his talent close to the vest, though I couldn’t presume to know why. He was good, really good. Why would he want to waste his talent as a bouncer?

  Gay brightened immediately. “You can play these songs, Jonah?”

  He hesitated for a moment before he relented with a nod. “Not all of them. But several.”

  “I only need three,” Gay said as she grabbed the song book and thrust it at the both of us. “Get cracking.”

  We walked over to one of the tables in front of the stage. “Sorry to put you on the spot like that,” I said, and I meant it. I didn’t mean to ambush him.

  He seemed to understand. “You had no choice. But I guess we have to do ‘Dream On’ now. It’s the only song we’ve really rehearsed.”

  I shook my head immediately. “There’s no way I’m doing that song. Not with everything riding on this performance.”

  I looked away from his eyes. I didn’t want him to see how scared I really was. He placed his hand on mine, which made us both tremble. His voice was soft. “I know you can do it, Lacy.”

  I looked into those incredible eyes. I gulped hard and shook my head. “No chance, pal. Keep looking.”

  He was just as reluctant to challenge himself. I suggested a Bon Jovi song with a killer guitar solo but he shook his head. “I’m a farmer, not a guitarist.”

  “Bullshit,” I said softly. “I heard you play all week. I know what you can do.”

  He was adamant. “Look. This is just an emergency substitute. I just want to fade into the woodwork as much as possible, to keep the spotlight on you where it belongs.”

  I chuckled. He was too sweet for his own good. I wasn’t scared of sharing the spotlight. He was good and deserved to be recognized for it. We could share the spotlight as far as I was concerned. I wasn’t a guitarist, he was. He wasn’t a singer, I was. We complemented each other perfectly. As long as we were equal, what could possibly go wrong? “It’s the strongest song you know in the playlist.”

  He searched my eyes and then finally he sighed. “Fine. You win.”

  It was clear that he didn’t have much experience on stage. He wanted to stay toward the back, head down, playing his guitar. I had to repeatedly pull him toward the front and remind him that he wasn’t just ‘tinkering’ by himself, alone in his bedroom. “Play to the crowd. They’ll love you for it.”

  Gay reiterated my advice, adding some of her own. She wanted Jonah to share the spotlight literally, advising him where to stand so the lighting techs could capture the both of us during some of the solos. She wanted me to dance next to him and cozy up to him. “He’s a good-looking guy,” she said. “Let’s feel some heat, Blaze.”

  It was frightening how easy it was to fall into character. Every time he looked my direction, I felt beautiful, sensual and feminine. He was so strong and so rugged; it was like he was the leather to my torn, black lace.

  The closer I danced to him, the closer I wanted to be. It was like foreplay in front of an entire crew full of people, including Jacinda – who looked none too pleased that I was getting so close to the object of her attraction.

  But Jonah and I just fit. We were good together. It was undeniable to anyone who happened to pass the stage.

  As the clock inched closer to our debut performance, Gay cornered poor Jonah in the dressing room. I knew she was going to sprinkle her fairy dust on him and make him stage-ready. She swapped his club T-shirt for a sleeveless muscle shirt. His strong, solid biceps did the name justice. The black shirt complemented his hair color, his authentic tan and those bright, tawny eyes. Gay had styled his hair, which, even though it was short, spiked around his handsome face. He hadn’t bothered to shave, and the darkening stubble around full mouth made him look even more masculine.

  I took a deep, steadying breath as I walked toward the makeup chair. “Looking good, Ace,” I said with a smile. “Cursing me yet?”

  “Ever since last night,” he said softly. Our eyes met and held. The longing in his face was undeniable.

  “Jonah,” I started, but he shook his head.

  “Call me Ace. Hell, call me asshole. Call me every name in the book. But if you say my name like that again, I won’t be able to stop myself from taking you into my arms. I don’t care who else is in the picture.”

  My breath caught as I stared into those eyes, so sincere, so painfully honest. And here I was, lying my ass off because the simple fact of the matter was he scared me silly. Not because I was afraid of him, but because I was scared that I wanted the same things.

  That mouth beckoned to be kissed. It sparked a longing deep in my core. “I’m sorry I wasn’t clearer in the beginning.”

  He chortled softly. “Nothing quite as clear as that ‘Fuck-Off’ sign you wear on your face.”

  It made me chuckle myself. “It usually works.”

  He shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. You make a horde of men fall in lust with you every single night you perform. I’ve watched it happen.”

  My eyes danced over his transformation, stopping just short of the snug jeans that hugged him like a second skin. “Wait till the groupies get a load of you. All the girls want the guitarist. Especially when he wears a pair of jeans like you do.”

  He cocked his eyebrow. “So you’ve noticed,” he smirked.

  Of course I noticed. What am I? Dead? “Wasn’t that the point?”

  “Touché,” he grinned as he stood. My breath caught as he held out his arms. “Hug for luck?”

  A hug, I thought. A simple hug. Being held in someone’s arms. God, it had been so long. And those arms were damned inviting for my own good. I hesitated so long he amended his request. “Just between friends?”

  Was that what we were? Was that what we could be? I had never had a male friend before, especially one that looked like Jonah Riley. I tentatively stepped forward and stood on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck. His strong arms closed around me, gathering me closer into his solid embrace. I fit head to toe. He seemed to savor the moment as much as I did. I wondered how long it had been since he had been held.

  I thought about Jacinda and decided not to question. He had been right… he could have had at least a dozen girls in every bar in Austin.

  He pulled away first. He offered a smile as he left me to change.

  When I turned to the wardrobe rack, I felt strangely sensual. I picked an outfit that suited that mood with a red, backless dress with a thigh-high hem. I added a rhinestone-studded belt and stepped into black cowboy boots I wore in honor of our new guitarist. I went braless, which was unusual.

  What was even more unusual is how empowered I felt. I didn’t feel cheapened by my sexuality. I felt bolder, stronger somehow.

  Maybe that was because I finally met the man who didn’t see me as a collection of parts. When he looked into my eyes, he actually saw me. I could tell by the depth of his gaze. I was a puzzle he wanted to solve, not just a
nother scratch for his bedpost.

  When I joined him onstage, I could see the effect my choice of wardrobe had on him immediately. His eyes swept my body, bringing it instantly to life. It energized me for our performance. The minute the lights came up, I became “Blaze.” Blaze could dance next to her sexy guitarist. Blaze could toy with the boys in the audience, working them up into a frenzy.

  Jonah did his part, following my instructions to the letter, playing to the crowd right along with me. When he launched into his solo, I stood right at his side, dancing for him. Our connection was immediate and electric. I didn’t even have to look at the crowd to gauge their response. They nearly brought the house down.

  We killed it, and every single person in the band knew it. As we left the stage, I practically jumped right back into those arms for a celebratory hug. He swung me around, elated himself. He had surprised himself, I knew. He wasn’t a farmer. He was a performer. And this was his moment of birth. “You did great,” I said as he hugged me tight.

  He eased me to my feet, his eyes locked with mine. “I had a good teacher.”

  I opened my mouth to say something when Gay rushed backstage to give us the good news. Jasper was impressed with what he saw. “With everyone,” she added when she looked at Jonah, to reassure him.

  I squeezed his arm with a big smile. His days as a bouncer were over and I knew it. He was one of us now.

  “So what happens now?” he asked.

  “He’s going to keep his eye on the numbers,” she told us. “If we can win over Austin with this new lineup, he’s willing to come back in a few months and talk.”

  That part confused me. Jasper had been all over Tony Paul the minute he heard him, and I knew that “Blaze” and her band were every bit as good as the Hollis Five. “Why a few months? Why not now?”

  She took a deep breath as she looked between us. “Because he wants to test-drive the new talent.”

  “But I’m not new,” I argued. “I’ve been doing this since grade school. I could perform in my sleep. You know that, Gay.”