“When did this happen?” Roy asked Will.
Willjust smiled.
“Did you think it was magic? The guy’s got connections,” Miles said, smacking Roy with a music magazine.
Roy pointed a finger at Miles and chuckled. “Don’t start with me again.”
“Enough, already,” Will said, getting up and moving to the front of the bus. “This bus isn’t big enough for you two to get into another wrestling match.”
“Hey, Miles is just sore because I managed to get him in a headlock.”
Josie glanced over at Brock, who was reclining in his seat, seemingly lost in the song playing on the radio. His song.
She leaned over, rested her elbows on her knees, and said quietly, “Cool, huh? To hear it on the air for the first time.”
But instead of the elation the other band members were enjoying at this milestone, Brock appeared guarded, almost critiquing the music as he had in the studio.
Josie giggled with excitement. Her work was on the radio again. And not some little fluff dog food commercial. It was music she’d worked on. It had been a long time coming.
“You know, you can ease up a little and just enjoy the moment. This is big.”
As she sang along with the radio, he smiled at her, something warm, wonderful, and wide.
“I’ve been dreaming of this day for a long time,” he said quietly. “I knew it would come. Now that it has, it almost doesn’t seem real.”
“You can pinch yourself if it helps, but it’s real. Hey, Miles, turn it up a little louder,” she called out.
Brock listened intently to the music, a slight smile playing on his face as his teeth clamped down on his lower lip. “I didn’t expect it would feel this good.”
She tilted an eyebrow. “You are allowed to enjoy it, you know.”
Another smile split his face. This one bigger and more of what she’d expected. In an instant, he was on his feet, picking her up and spinning her around. “I’ve dreamed of this for a long time,” he said again, his eyes twinkling down at her.
It felt great to be in Brock’s arms again, Josie thought. It seemed much too long since he’d held her and kissed her. They’d been so busy, and so many eyes had been on them that there hadn’t been any opportunities for stolen moments like this.
“Will talked to the station manager. He said they’ve been playing it the last three days and started getting calls about the show. It almost doesn’t seem real.”
Josie nodded. “If you’ve been getting a lot of airplay, then it should be a great turnout with people who are coming to see you. It’ll be a good show.”
“Hey, when we get settled at the fairgrounds, why don’t we take off?” she said, surprising herself with her spontaneity. “We can check out the fairgrounds together.”
His expression faltered. “Will’s got some interviews lined up for me as soon as we get there. I don’t think there’ll be any time.”
She nodded, forcing a smile to cover her disappointment.
“Another time then.”
Much to Brock’s disappointment, they both were quiet the rest of the ride. As the bus rolled to a stop just outside the staging area, he saw the mob. Reporters and photographers wearing large VIP passes were already assembled by the gate, waiting to get a story. Will had indeed outdone himself this time. Smiling, Will climbed off the bus to greet the crowd, then gestured inside. Brock had no doubt he was making promises with his time to meet with each and every one of them.
“Looks like I’m on,” he said to Josie, the pit of his stomach burning as he stared outside the tinted window. He was glad they couldn’t see him or the apprehension that suddenly clutched him, leaving him weak.
Josie touched his hand and said, “Knock ‘em dead.” Her smile, the gentle touch of her hand giving him confidence broke the spell that had consumed him just moments earlier. He smiled and felt his fear turn to excitement.
This was it. He had their attention. It was time to give them what they wanted.
He squeezed Josie’s hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss before walking off the bus into the mayhem.
There had to be a hundred thousand people gathered for the two-day summer festival, Brock thought as he peered out the bus window. Few of the people who were eager to come to the festival had heard of Brock Gentry, but that didn’t seem to matter to any of them. The number of people all gathered at the same time and the television footage of the outdoor concert with several other bands was what Will had said was going to set the stage for them to make the rest of the trip to Nashville.
They needed to make a big splash in Galveston and then continue on their way to Nashville riding on the success of the show. Brock watched from the back of the bus while Will worked the crowd of reporters. It was a good plan. Why was he so apprehensive?
Since they’d arrived at the parking lot of the fairgrounds, Will had been pulling him from one stop to the next interview, and to yet another photography session until Brock didn’t even know which way was up.
Finally he was alone to enjoy his down time, the short hour he’d begged off to take a nap or to simply regroup on his own. He had come to value the privacy that was so rare on the road.
The rest of the band had taken this time to sightsee, as Josie had suggested they both do together when they arrived. Brock was grateful he didn’t have to hear another petty squabble between Miles and Roy, or the phone ring and Will offering him up for another appearance for some radio show. The DJ’s he’d met didn’t have a clue who he was or what he was about. His excitement over doing the radio spot soon waned when he felt their lack of enthusiasm or had to answer the same question over and over, or listen to another lame joke about his new clothes.
Brock sighed as frustration made its way up his spine. He put his guitar down, placing it into the case and snapping the locks shut. He always wrote his songs in private. That’s when his thoughts were his own and the noise of the world didn’t intrude. But none of his thoughts were on his music now.
Dexter meowed as he prowled along the edge of Josie’s bunk and made his way up to the front of the bus where Brock was reclining on the sofa. The cat rubbed his face against Brock’s leg in a gesture of friendship. Without any thought, Brock obliged the cat by stroking its fur.
“You miss her, don’t you boy?” he said quietly. Dexter lifted his head and gave a plaintive cry, as if he really knew Brock was talking about Josie.
“I miss her too.” Sighing, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the cushion. There’d been no time for them at all, even though his mind always seemed to wander to Josie. There was a lot of idle time on the bus, even at the gigs, but never time alone. Today would have been a good day for them to connect. He was beginning to see why Josie felt a relationship between them wouldn’t work on the road.
She’d calmed his nerves with a simple squeeze of the hand and a warm smile. In all his life, the only thing that had ever eased his anxiety was playing his guitar. It wasn’t always possible to do that here on the bus, especially when he was never alone. But a simple touch from Josie’s hand had done the trick when he felt his heart starting to race and his palms sweating. He’d been able to face the reporters when all he’d wanted to do was hide from their flashbulbs and barrage of questions.
But there was never time alone. No time for them to connect on any level other than business.
Unfettered, Brock stood up, walked to the kitchenette, and pulled open the refrigerator door. Grabbing the carton of milk, he poured himself half a glass and put an inch of milk in a plastic cereal bowl, offering it to Dexter. The cat immediately jumped to the counter and began lapping up the milk.
“This will be our little secret, okay?” he said with a chuckle, recalling how Josie had worked overtime to make sure the cat didn’t jump on either the dining table or the counters. He stroked the cat’s long, silky back and felt an ache in his heart that rose up and choked him.
Brock missed Josie. She’d been here on this bus
the whole time, sleeping in a bunk not far from his, looking at him from beyond the spotlights every night as he sang, yet she felt far away, so unreachable. She’d kept an emotional distance from him ever since he’d reached for her and kissed her that first day.
What an idiot he’d been.
Somewhere in the back of his brain, he knew there’d be girls hanging about at every stop, after every performance. Miles and Roy were in seventh heaven. And Brock had to agree that Josie had been right about their every move being watched. He’d felt the stares at his back whenever they’d talk. He hated the feeling that he couldn’t just reach for her again and let her know what he’d been feeling. He didn’t want those other girls. He wanted her.
That empty ache in his gut began to grow and burn. He’d lived in a house as big as Texas growing up, but he’d always felt alone. His brothers were much older than him and had their own lives to live. As much as he knew they loved him, they’d never been close. He’d always been on his own and for most of his life, that had been fine with Brock.
He wasn’t so sure anymore. Meeting Josie had changed that. He couldn’t ever remember feeling the way she made him feel. It wasn’t the words she said, it was the way she looked at him, saw through him like no one had ever done before. Certainly not like the girls who were always pulling at him and trying to steal a kiss or a hug after a show. Josie was different. And right now, he missed her more than he could handle.
Voices outside the bus made him groan. The band was on its way back. Roy and Miles were arguing about something else. It didn’t matter if it was a woman or who took the last potato chip from the bag, they just loved to argue with each other. It reminded him a little bit of his brothers, Beau and Cody, who always seemed to be at the other’s throat about something. A longing for home and that familiarity stabbed him.
With a sigh, he peered out the tinted windows and let his eyes graze the group to see if Josie was among them. He’d hoped she’d be here when he’d gotten back to the bus earlier. But he couldn’t expect her to stay alone and be available just when he had time. It wasn’t fair to ask her to hang around waiting for him either, when she could easily have a good time sightseeing with the other members of the band. He scanned the group heading toward the bus. Josie wasn’t there.
He wouldn’t let his disappointment get the better of him. Or that fact that his solitude was over.
here is he?” Will shouted over the noise of the crowd.
Since they’d arrived and done their sound check, Josie noticed that scores of people had since crowded into the fairgrounds for the afternoon concert.
“Who are you looking for?”
Leaning over the soundboard, Will barked at her, his frown darkening his expression. “The kid. He’s got an interview with some local news station in ten minutes and I can’t find him.”
“They’re going on stage in fifteen.”
“Like I don’t know that,” he drawled. “I set up the interview for when he’s ready to go on stage.”
“He’s not with the rest of the band?”
Will shook his head. “One guy is ready to do a writeup on Brock and get it to press tonight. We need the press to ensure tomorrow’s performance is packed.”
Josie searched her mind. The last time she’d seen Brock he was heading into the crowd around the same time she’d come out to recheck the equipment. She always wanted to make sure the board was undisturbed. When the band went on stage, she didn’t want to discover someone had pulled a connection accidentally.
“I haven’t seen him since I came out here. Are you sure he isn’t with the rest of the band?”
“No, they’re all backstage-except for Brock.” She glanced out into the sea of people, to the place where she’d last seen Brock. Today he could walk among the crowd and only be noticed for being the handsome man he was. Tomorrow, his picture might be splashed across the pages of the newspaper.
“Where would he go?” Will’s face was almost accusing and it gnawed at Josie to think he somehow blamed her for Brock’s absence now. “Come on, Josie. The kid’s been tight with you,” Will continued impatiently when she didn’t answer.
It had been true to some degree. But Brock hadn’t asked her to stay behind and wait for him to get through with his interviews. Even though she’d been tempted to do just that, she decided the time away, not only from the bus but from the band would be good. But instead of frittering away the afternoon like a tourist alone, she’d spent her down time at the local Laundromat dizzily watching her clothes dry.
Boring, yes. But she’d spent the entire time thinking about Brock and wishing she’d stayed on the bus, if only to have a few minutes alone with him. She enjoyed his company, and she loved his outlook on life as well as his determination to succeed in his dreams.
Will always called Brock “the kid,” but Josie knew there was a wisdom about Brock that made him much older than his years. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in the things he said. No matter how much she tried to remain focused on her goals, there was a part of her that sought out Brock, the man, despite her knowing she shouldn’t.
“You keep the news crew happy,” she said, grabbing her bottle of water from where it rested on the console. “I’ll see if I can find him.”
Josie dodged people as she made her way to the one place she thought Brock might escape to. But when she swung open the door to the bus, she found he wasn’t there.
She moved down the center aisle of the bus to see if he was in his bunk. It was empty and his guitar was gone.
Earlier, Brock had gone out into the crowd with his guitar in hand. Will’s reference to the two of them being “tight” held some truth. They’d certainly gotten much closer. However, their romantic relationship had come to a dead halt since that first day they’d kissed.
Perhaps Brock had become fed up with trying to move their relationship forward and had moved on to one of the many girls who always seemed to be working her way backstage or hanging around the bus before a performance. It wasn’t like a girl would be hard to find. They were all beautiful and willing to hook up with a musician.
Josie closed her eyes as jealousy made its way through her veins.
Disgusted with herself for being upset, Josie swung around and walked past her unmade bunk. Dexter’s empty kennel lay on top of the bare mattress next to the laundry she’d recently folded and put in her pillowcase. When she’d returned to the bus, she hadn’t had time to make her bed. Now it looked baron, especially without her beloved cat stretched out on it.
“Dex?”
Turning toward the kitchen, she found an empty bowl on the counter. Dexter was sitting next to it, licking his paws as if he’d savored whatever had been left in the bowl.
“Dexter, no.” She pulled the cat from the counter and brought him to the kennel, stroking his fur as she went. She dropped the cat on the bunk and opened the kennel door. Guilt ate at her as she coaxed Dex inside. She normally let him wander when no one was on the bus, but he’d already gotten into too many things and the end of the tour was still at least two weeks away. Two more weeks before they’d reach Nashville and she could set her plans into action.
“You have to behave, Dexter,” she said, looking through the cage’s door as her cat meowed, his wide eyes pleading for freedom. “I don’t want to have to keep you kenneled all the time. I’ll be back in a few hours. I promise to give you my undivided attention then.”
At least Dex was the one thing she loved that would never let her down.
“Brock, I came all the way from Houston!”
“Brock, this way. My name is Louise.”
“Just a little hug, Brock. Can I have my picture taken with you?”
“We love you Brock!”
They all shouted and grabbed and pulled at Brock as he made his way from the stage toward the tent that was their makeshift dressing room. While he had to admit the fans’ excitement was contagious and added to the rise he felt while on stage, he couldn’t wait to get bac
k on the bus.
We love youBrock.
He could see it in their eyes. They’d had fun. From on stage he could see them dancing in the crowd, clapping wildly and stomping their feet to the music. They’d remember his name. But they’d never know him. That was never more evident to him than after the string of reporters asking him the same trite questions that could apply to just about any country singer in the industry.
He slipped into the tent and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the change of light. There was a long buffet table with food sitting in trays of ice to keep it from spoiling in the heat. The rest of the band was already there, popping the tops off cans of soda or sipping from bottles of water.
Josie unscrewed a bottle of Evian and took a long drink, wiping her sweat-drenched forehead with the back of her hand. Pink tinged her cheeks and the tip of her nose from being out in the brutal sun for too long.
Brock made his way toward Josie, but stopped when Will stepped in front of him.
“They were eating you up, kid,” Will said, slapping Brock on the back. “Get a drink, refresh yourself, and catch your breath. Then come on outside for a meet and greet with the fans and reporters. Did you hear them chanting your name? It was great.”
Will handed him an open beer and Brock took a long drink from the can.
“I need a minute to take a breather,” he said, releasing his breath.
“Sure, sure. You take whatever you need. But only a second though. We’re on a roll. I don’t want those reporters leaving before we get a chance to get some pictures with the fans. I’ll get the crowd together, set the stage, and let them know you’re going to come out to see them.”
Brock groaned inwardly. More reporters. Josie looked at him, tilting a questioning eyebrow. She was holding her sweating bottle of water to her lips and not drinking. She pulled the bottle away from her mouth and set it on a nearby table.
Josie chuckled and shook her head. “Do you suppose he came out of the womb that way?”
Gypsy Hearts Page 6
