Cover Me (Jaded Ivory Book 3)

by Rebecca Brooke

  Monty looked up from where he scribbled across the paper. The notes and words flowed from him quicker than anyone I’d ever met. He tossed the pencil on the table and set his own guitar down.

  “Yeah, I need some sleep.”

  I eyed the bag he showed me earlier. “I guess you were serious about the sleepover, just not as innocent as a scout camping trip.”

  He laughed. “I promise to behave, but there’s no reason to have the buses pull over to switch for one night. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get off these buses for a bit.”

  “True. I’m heading to bed. I don’t want to hear any strange noises out here.”

  “Why would you ever think that? Besides, I save that shit for when I have company. It’s not hard to find these days.” He winked.

  With a sigh, I picked up my guitar and turned to move down the short, narrow hall to my room. Getting the feelings in my head out into lyrics felt good. I’d also realized that now wasn’t the time to be worrying about dating anyone. We still had five months on the road. Not exactly the way to get to know someone. If I was still interested when the tour was over, I could see her. She may not have used the number I left, but my house was only a ninety-minute drive from hers.

  I yanked my shirt over my head and flopped down onto the bed. Like an idiot, I glanced at my phone one more time. Nothing. Five more months. Until then, I needed to push it all out of my head. My eyes fell shut and I felt into the first peaceful sleep I’d had in a while.

  When I woke the next morning, I realized the bus had stopped moving. Thank God. Monty had been right the night before. There was only so much traveling one person could take before they needed to be stationary for a while. I walked out into the living area of the tour bus and found Monty still passed out and drooling on the couch.

  Fucker was going to clean that up later.

  I reached for a mug above the sink. I’d guess his trailer was a mess, but I knew better. Monty might be a crazy fucker, but he kept his shit clean. Sawyer, on the other hand, was a goddamn slob.

  I dropped the coffee pod into the top of the machine and set the mug below it. I had a feeling the smell would wake Monty and I pulled another mug down. No way was I letting him steal mine.

  A light knock sounded on the door. I glanced at the clock and knew it was long before anyone else would be up. Hell, I was surprised I was up that early in the morning. I hit the button to unlock the door.

  “Come in,” I called out, watching the coffee drip into the mug.

  The door pulled open and a head of shaggy brown hair appeared at the bottom of the stairs. If anyone was awake this early, I expected it to be Reagan not Sawyer. Living with the two of them, it quickly became obvious that Reagan was the early bird.

  “What the hell are you doing up this early?” I asked. “And how did you know I was up?”

  He shrugged. “You’ve been up early a lot lately.” He glanced down at Monty’s sleeping form. “Something wrong with his bus?”

  I shook my head and laughed. “Nah, he had a song in his head he wanted to work on. He jumped in with me before we left the restaurant last night.”

  He looked between the two of us. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “Can we go somewhere?”

  What would he want to talk about that he couldn’t say in front of Monty? “Um…we can talk in my room.”

  He nodded. I grabbed the cup of coffee and led him down the hall. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in my room before. More than that, I started to worry. Sawyer didn’t pull punches and could read me better than anyone.

  I dropped down onto the bed and leaned against the headboard, the mug gripped tightly in my hand. He closed the door, but instead of saying anything, he paced back and forth in the small area at the end of my bed.

  The silence was killing me. “What’s up? Did something happen?”

  He stopped moving and turned to face, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, Reagan and I noticed you’ve been off lately.”

  My shoulders tightened. I should have seen it coming. Then again, I thought I’d done a pretty good job of putting on a front.

  “I didn’t think it was that obvious.”

  He raised a brow at me. “You left dinner last night a half an hour before everyone else.”

  “Really?” When I left I thought they might be there for another ten minutes. Had I really lain on the bed in my room that long? Once again, I’d gotten lost in my head.

  “Yeah. You missed Mari’s five-layer chocolate cake.” He laughed for a moment before turning serious again. He leaned back against the dresser. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange ever since you took that server to see her grandmother.”

  I set the mug on the table by the bed and lifted my hand to rub the back of my neck. “I don’t know, man. At first, I thought it was the memories of my own grandmother, but even after a few days I couldn’t shake it.”

  “That’s what I thought in the beginning. It’s why I didn’t bring it up then. I figured you’d work it out on your own, like you always do. But you haven’t.”

  “I know.” I’m sure Sawyer expected more, but I wasn’t great at letting other people help me. I’d been the one to help everyone else for so long, I didn’t know how to accept help.

  “Don’t do that. I know you don’t like asking for help, but whatever the problem, it’s fucking with your head. And it’s not getting better.”

  He stood there, his gaze focused on mine. I knew he wouldn’t give up until I told him what was going on in my head. The first time had seen me like this was when my grandmother passed away. Feeling like I didn’t need anyone, but I’d been wrong. Sawyer had pushed and pushed and pushed until I gave up and talked to him. That night we went out and got shitfaced, or I should say I got shitfaced. He drove my drunk ass home. This time was no different without the liquor.

  “Something about her…” I trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say.

  “Something about who? Her grandmother?”

  I shook my head. “No something about Jenna.”

  “Is she the server from that night?”

  “Yeah. She’s different than the other girls we meet on the road. She didn’t care about who I was or what I had. Actually the minute she figured out who I was, she kicked my ass out. Wouldn’t let me help anymore.”

  He watched me, eyes narrowed. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain your mood. You only act like this when something is wrong. Nothing’s wrong with meeting a girl who doesn’t drop to her knees to suck your dick once she finds out you’re in a band.”

  “Jesus, Sawyer.”

  “What? It’s the truth. There are plenty of groupies willing to do it. I get it. It’s nice to meet someone who isn’t.”

  “I just wish I got to know her better.”

  “You want her?”

  “How the fuck should I know? I spent a few hours with her in a hospital.” There was no reason to tell him about our night together.

  “Well, not sure how that would work considering we’re on tour for the next five months.”

  I held up my hands. “Relax. I came to that conclusion last night. I will say, I get why you wrote so many songs before you got together with Reagan. It’s cathartic.”

  He chuckled. “That it is. I guess you working with Monty last night helped.”

  “Yeah. It was the first night I got a decent sleep in a month. I figure if I still want to get to know her when we get back, she isn’t that far from home and I know where she works.”

  “Good plan. So, I don’t have to worry about you anymore?”

  “Nah, man. I’m fine.”

  He pointed to the guitar in the corner of the room. “Does this mean more song writing for you?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. Someone’s gotta pick up the slack since you spend all your time getting laid now.”

  He winked. “You’re just jealous.”

  “Maybe, I am. Just a little. B
ut I’d prefer a woman, so your man is safe.”

  He quirked a brow. “I had no doubt about that.” He paused for a second. “Just remember, stop keeping this shit bottled up. We want to help you, even if you’re not used to accepting it.”

  “You’re right, I’m not used to it, but I’ll do my best.”

  “That works for me.” He reached for the door handle. “I’m gonna head back to my bus and get ready to go out and grab some breakfast. Wanna come with?”

  My stomach growled, answering for me. “Yeah, sounds good.”

  He pointed at me. “That’s what you get for missing dessert.”

  I chucked one of my pillows at him as he escaped through the door, laughing. I picked up my cup of coffee, which was now cold. When I walked back to make a new cup, Monty was still sound asleep on the couch. I shook the couch on the way by.

  “Come on, sleeping beauty. Time to get up if you want to go get breakfast.”

  “Wha…” he mumbled, barely opening his eyes.

  I waved the finished coffee in his face. He reached for it and I pulled it away. At the same time he dove for it and fell off the couch. The crash shook the entire bus.

  “What the fuck?” Monty rubbed a hand over his face.

  “Time to get up.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re an evil bastard, you know that?”

  “I’m the nicest one of us all,” I said, handing him the extra mug of coffee I made.

  He shut his eyes as he breathed in the familiar aroma. He clasped the cup between his hands like a lifeline. “Okay, you can be nice,” he muttered, lifting the mug to his lips.

  “Glad you remembered.” I started back down the hall for a shower. “Don’t forget to clean up your drool,” I called over my shoulder.

  I didn’t look back, but I could hear the muttered “Fuck,” as the door shut behind me. I climbed in the shower with a new outlook on the whole situation. Between last night and my conversation with Sawyer, I realized it would work out in the end if it was supposed to. If not, it was never meant to be.

  CHAPTER 8

  Jenna

  I smacked my hand around the table top, trying to find the offending sound. It was time to get up and get ready for work, but lately, no matter how much I slept I still woke up exhausted. Whatever I caught was winning. If it didn’t go away soon I’d have to bite the bullet and head to the clinic. Their small fee would be cheaper than missing a day of work.

  Finally locating the phone, I hit the button to turn off the ungodly wailing sound. With my eyes still closed, I rolled to my back, afraid to move. The stomach virus still had a tight hold on me the night before when I ended up puking about halfway through my shift. I promised myself that if I threw up again today, I’d go to the clinic on my day off tomorrow. Something told me I’d need a prescription to get rid of the bug.

  I moved my legs over the side of the bed slowly, hoping to not anger the stomach gods. My feet hit the floor. So far, so good. I didn’t feel like reaching for the closest trash can. Not that the feeling lasted long. The moment I stood and took a step, my stomach protested and I ran for the bathroom. After dry heaving for a few minutes, I sat on the edge of the tub and prayed for it to settle. I even tried bargaining with it. If it let me get through my shift today, I’d get help tomorrow.

  When I believed I could stand without any other consequences, I reached down and turned on the shower, giving the old pipes time to heat the water. While I waited, I grabbed my toothbrush and the empty tube of toothpaste. A bad habit for sure, I couldn’t explain why I didn’t throw the tube away the night before. I pulled open the linen closet to grab a new tube. My fingers wrapped around the box and my hands froze.

  Why is that box unopened?

  With shaking fingers, I reached for the blue box. Maybe it was open and I’d done a really good job of closing it last month. I slid my fingers beneath the flap and it was as tight as the day I purchased it. The box slid from my fingers and I ran to the other room to get my phone. My stomach lurched. Whether it came from the virus or the fear of what that full box could mean, I couldn’t say. I pulled up the calendar and racked my brain for the date.

  Two months.

  “Fuck.”

  That can’t be right. I started counting again. I blamed last month on the stress from my grandmother’s passing, but maybe, just maybe not enough time had passed. I counted once, twice, three times. The numbers never changed. I should’ve gotten my period last week. My heart raced. This couldn’t be happening.

  This time my stomach won and I ran for the bathroom. Sweat beaded on my forehead by the time I lifted my head from the bowl. This wasn’t what I needed right now. There were still so many bills. From the doctor’s office and funeral home. The hospital and nursing home. There was no way I could afford another mouth to feed. I knew I was getting ahead of myself. I had no idea if I was actually pregnant or if the stress of my life crashing in on me the last few months had taken its toll.

  The only thing I could do was get dressed and head to the store. No need to have a blood test at the clinic unless the over the counter one came back positive. I told myself I wasn’t allowed to freak out until I knew for sure. Taking a deep breath, I pulled the old T-shirt over my head and climbed into the shower.

  In no time, I was dressed and walking down the block to the pharmacy. I don’t think I’d ever walked that fast in my life. I probably could have given Olympic speed walkers a run for their money. Of course there had to be a million tests to choose from.

  After a good ten minutes of searching, I found one without any lines, just two words that couldn’t be misinterpreted and went to the register. There in the magazine rack was a picture of the man who’d consumed my thoughts for the last few hours. Heath and Monty were standing with two different woman on the front of a tabloid. Heath’s head was turned away from the camera. My heart seized in my chest. Why would he want to give up his lifestyle for a child who he never wanted in the first place?

  A small voice in the back of my mind whispered that I was wrong. But I told it to shut up, I was in enough trouble as it was.

  I stepped up to the register. An older woman with kind eyes was working behind the counter.

  “Good morning.” She grinned.

  I did my best to smile back, but I had a feeling it looked more like a grimace.

  She glanced down at my purchase. “Oh, what a wonderful and exciting time in your life.”

  If my heart could have picked up pace it probably would have, except it already raced in my chest. This is not a good thing, I wanted to shout from the rooftops. The woman didn’t say anything to be cruel. She genuinely thought she was being kind. She had no idea about my circumstances. I nodded and kept my eyes down as I handed her the last bit of cash in my wallet. At least I still had another shift before my two days off.

  If the test came back positive, I’d have to convince Doug to give me an extra shift each week.

  “Good luck,” she said, handing me my bag. “I hope it comes back the way you want it.”

  If only she knew that meant coming back negative. “Thank you.”

  If I thought I made it to the store quickly, that was nothing compared to the time I made it home in. In seconds I had the box open. I finished taking the test and forced myself to leave the bathroom while I waited for the results. I was working on my mascara when the timer on my phone went off. My whole body began to tremble as I walked from my bedroom to the bathroom like a man walking to his execution. Closing my eyes, I pulled in a dep breath and held it as I pushed the door open.

  I reached out and wrapped my hands around the little white stick that had the power to change my life. Lifting it to my eyes, my heart plummeted.

  Pregnant.

  I stumbled backward, my eyes glued to the stick in my hand. The moment my back hit the wall behind me, I gave up trying to keep myself upright and slid to the floor.

  What am I going to do?

  There was no doubt in my mind about the
identity of the baby’s father. I’d only been with one man in the last six months.

  Heath Marshall.

  I knew there was no way a rock star would give a shit about some baby he made while on the road. It probably wasn’t even his only one. I’d have to do this on my own. My mind raced with all the things I was going to need. I glanced around the room, thankful that my grandmother had paid off her house long ago. At least we’d always have a roof over our heads. The other option would be to sell it and rent. Then I could use the money to pay for some of the things the baby would need. The back of my eyes burned at the idea of selling the house. It was small, barely two bedrooms, but I’d grown up there.

  The devil on my shoulder jumped into the conversation. Okay, maybe not the devil, but the rational part of my brain. Why should I have to sell my house? He was a rock star, for fuck’s sake. There was no reason he couldn’t help pay for his child. I wouldn’t expect him to give a shit beyond that. The memory of him being so caring that night at the hospital popped into my head. The way he held my hand as I sat next to Nana’s bedside. But I pushed it aside. That was just his reaction to the memories of his own past. I laid my hand over my flat stomach.

  “I think it’s going to have to be me and you against the world.”

  I glanced at the clock and leaped from the floor. I had to be to work in fifteen minutes. The lunch shift at the diner would be crazy today. Most people were tired of packing their lunch by the end of the week. I grabbed my uniform from the chair in the corner and yanked it on. My stomach rolled, but I didn’t have time for it. My shorts and shirt from last night sat on the floor in a ball. I ran to the closet to grab my backup for my shift at The Marquee tonight.

  I hadn’t been a fan of the outfit when I first started. The shorts way too small for my taste. The customers liked it and they tipped well because of it. Although, I highly doubted they’d want to give those kind of tips to me when I was as big as a whale. The tears threatened again, and I reminded myself of the time. If I couldn’t convince Doug to find me a different spot, I’d be left with only the diner job. I didn’t want to risk it by being late.