ALMOST PARADISE

by Williams, Mary J.

“Just the two of us then.” Jax wasn’t a big drinker, but nothing good happened when Kane and a bottle disappeared into the night.

  “Another time. Besides, you don’t want a third wheel when Skye comes calling.”

  “She’ll call, not—”

  “Told you,” Kane snickered when a knock sounded

  Jax opened the door and found Skye.

  “Sorry I’m so late.”

  “You’re right on time.” Kane patted Skye’s shoulder as he slipped past Jax. “To quote Beckett, you, Ms. Monroe, will give Razor’s Edge a much-needed infusion of class.”

  “Is he okay?” After Kane’s departure, Skye’s concerned gaze remained on the closed door.

  Even if Jax wanted to explain about Kane or his bouts of melancholia, he didn’t have the time or his friend’s permission. Skye would have plenty of time to learn the sordid details—if she was here to give him the answer he wanted to hear.

  “Kane will be fine.” A mantra Jax used, again and again, hoping he was right. “The fact you came over instead of calling must be a good sign.”

  “Such a gentleman.” Skye smiled as he helped remove her jacket. She wore a light cotton top, Levi’s, and pair of plain white sneakers.

  “Ingrained from birth by my dad. He taught me women aren’t men’s equals, they’re better. Not even close.”

  “I like the way your father thinks,” she chuckled. “But you haven’t explained the gallantry.”

  “Simple. Respect for our superiors.

  Jax only half-joked. He tried to treat every woman like a lady. But, no one was perfect. When he failed, he did so in spectacular fashion. The term knuckle-dragging Neanderthal was hurled at him on one cringe-worthy occasion—a fact he decided not to share with Skye.

  “I discussed your offer with my father.”

  “And?”

  “To say he wasn’t thrilled?” Skye cleared her throat. “A gross understatement.”

  “I could talk to him.”

  Her eye’s widened, then she gave a humorless laugh.

  “Only if you want your pretty face rearranged like a poorly executed jigsaw puzzle. His words, not mine.”

  “Well, shit,” Jax scoffed, unsure how he felt about the threat of violence from some guy he’d never met. “Talk about an extreme reaction.

  “Nothing personal,” Skye assured him. “Dad hates all musicians.”

  “Because…?”

  “My mother ran off with one.”

  Skye hadn’t mentioned her mother often, but for some reason, Jax assumed the woman had passed away. Try as she might, she couldn’t mask the pain, not from him.

  Gently, Jax led her to the only empty chair in the room. Keeping hold of her hand, he sat on the bed.

  “Do you ever see her?”

  Shaking her head, Skye took a ragged breath.

  “We don’t talk about her. We certainly don’t speak her name. Terry.” The word barely equaled a whisper, as if Skye was afraid the sound would carry all the way to her father. “Todd and Terry. Dad joked they were like two Ts in a pod.”

  Sounded like the kind of bad pun his father would make, Jax thought with a smile. Except his mother was still around. And if God forbid, his parents ever broke up, she sure as hell wouldn’t abandon her children—for any reason.

  “Mom left the day before my tenth birthday, six weeks after my sister was born.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Skye shrugged, letting out a heavy sigh.

  “Dad’s bitter. My sister Gabi seems okay. Sweet, easy going. But she’s still a little girl who listens to her big sister’s advice. The terrible teens are just around the corner, warring hormones and all. Who knows what might happen?”

  The fact that Skye didn’t mention herself, how she handled her mother’s absence, wasn’t lost on Jax. He couldn’t imagine the pressure she felt, the sense of responsibility toward her father and sister. Forced to grow up too soon, she set aside her dreams, stayed home, and settled on a career she didn’t want.

  Jax loved his family, he understood the sacrifices Skye made. He would have done the same in a heartbeat. But ten years had passed since her mother walked out. Her sister wasn’t a baby in need of constant care.

  As for Skye’s father, no one would argue Todd Monroe was dealt a hard blow. But he was the supposed adult, the parent. Time to pull his head out of his ass and man up. Long past time.

  “Mom sang—all day, every day. Her voice was so beautiful.”

  Jax wished Skye could see the smile on her face, the glow in her eyes. She might not realize, but she still loved her mother, bad choices and all.

  “She taught you to sing?”

  “Her favorite song was Proud Mary. We switched between the lead and back up. I loved when my turn came to be Tina Turner.”

  “No wonder you’re such a natural on stage.”

  “Think so?” Skye chuckled, obviously pleased by his compliment. “I miss singing. Dad doesn’t allow any form of music in the house.”

  Bastard. Her father punished his daughters for their mother’s crime.

  “Do you know what happened to her?”

  “Ever heard of Jimmy Deeds?”

  “No.”

  “No one has. He promised Mom he’d make her a star.” A faraway look entered Skye’s dark eyes. “She didn’t find fame or fortune. But I hope she’s out there somewhere, happy.”

  “I won’t make any promises. Razor’s Edge might soar, we might fizzle. But the money is guaranteed, and we’ll get first-class treatment opening for a first-class band.”

  The want, the need, on Skye’s face made Jax’s heart race, certain her answer was yes. Don’t take anything for granted, he warned himself. Until she said the words, nothing was certain.

  “Dad said no. He said a lot more. But I won’t repeat his rant word for word. I try to keep my cursing to a minimum.”

  Jax’s dislike for Skye’s father increased by the second. Selfish, controlling son of a bitch. For her sake, he bit his tongue.

  “Yet, here you are. Should I be hopeful? Or, are you too polite to rip my heart out over the phone?”

  “Two things swayed my father. The money,” Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “And when I told him I planned to leave—with his approval, or without.”

  “Were you serious?”

  “I’d like to think so.” She shrugged. “I might have caved. Luckily, he didn’t make me stand by my words.”

  “You’re coming?”

  “Dad gave his blessing.” Before Jax could let out a whoop, Skye held up a hand. “With a couple set in stone, no wiggle room rules.”

  Jax had a code of his own design which he followed whenever possible. However, he didn’t respond well when someone else tried to dictate his behavior. For Skye, he’d try to make an exception.

  “List your demands.”

  “First, eventually, I will finish college.”

  Jax nodded. After a year away, he hoped Skye found the confidence to embrace her dream and pursue acting instead of a career as a teacher. Her choice. Either way, education was never a waste.

  “Second, I come home whenever the tour is on a break.”

  So much for his fantasy of a luxury vacation with Skye by his side.

  “Third is the hardest. A potential deal breaker for you.”

  “Me?” Hard as he tried, Jax couldn’t think of anything that would change his mind. “Does your dad expect you to wear a chastity belt?”

  Jax laughed, Skye didn’t.

  “Not a chastity belt,” she assured him “Dad is old fashioned, not medieval.”

  “Tell me number three,” He needed to know before his imagination conjured something worse.

  “We can’t be anything more than friends.”

  Well, crap. Who needed an imagination when reality sucked?

  “No touching? No kissing?”

  “No sex,” Skye nodded.

  Jax rubbed his
temples. “A freaking virtual chastity belt.”

  “You think I’m happy?” Skye looked anything but. “The only way Dad would give his blessing was if I promised to honor his rules.”

  Jax’s feelings for Skye’s father moved from dislike to outright hate. Determined to maintain control, even when she was thousands of miles away, Todd Monroe viewed his daughter’s love and loyalty, not as gifts, but weapons.

  “What if you break your promise?”

  “He’ll cut me out of the family. I’ll cease to exist, for him and my sister.”

  The utter sadness in Skye’s voice was the only thing that kept Jax from telling her she might be better off.

  “He wouldn’t know.”

  “I would.”

  Jax felt like putting his fist through the door. Skye was a woman of principle. He could hate her misguided decision to abide by an unreasonable set of rules, but he couldn’t hate her.

  “Whatever you want.”

  “I want you.” Slumping forward, her face in her hands, Skye let out a frustrated growl. “I have from the beginning.”

  “Now isn’t the best time to share that bit of information—all things considered.”

  “Sex isn’t completely off the table.”

  Jax sensed a trap. However, he was desperate enough to ignore the warning signs.

  “How?”

  “Either I go on tour with Razor’s Edge. Or, one night together. Then, we never see each other again.”

  No problem, his hormones screamed. Pick the sex.

  Jax didn’t give himself time to change his mind. He tumbled onto the bed, taking Skye with him.

  The taste of sun-drenched raspberries filled his mouth the second their lips met. The taste of Skye. Lightly, he ran his tongue along hers, savoring, remembering. The feel of her nails digging into his arms sparked the fire he’d kept banked for too long.

  Jax never lost control. He enjoyed women, but he always kept a firm grip on his emotions. Reality never faded into oblivion. Until Skye.

  The length of her body pressed against him, Jax deepened the kiss. Longing for more, his hand slid under her shirt. Skin, soft and supple, warmed his palm as he moved higher, across her stomach, over her ribs. When his thumb brushed the curve of her breast, his sigh mingled with Skye’s moan.

  The snap of her jeans came undone with one flick. Jax lowered the zipper, finding a scrap of lace so small, he wondered why she bothered. Her hips jerked forward, encouraging his fingers to delve a bit further.

  One night. Skye’s words echoed through his brain like the warning peal of a bell. One night. Never again. One night. Never again.

  “I can’t.”

  Jax pushed Skye away. Rolling to his feet, he stumbled toward the bathroom.

  “What’s the matter?” Skye sounded as confused and frustrated as he felt.

  Gripping the sink, Jax turned the tap toward cold, sticking his head under the icy water. He held his breath as the basin filled, hoping the heat would drain from his body.

  Thirty seconds passed. Then a minute. Finally, when he realized his choice was to suffer or drown, Jax lifted his head. He gasped, filling his lungs with air as he pushed the fall of wet hair from his forehead. In the mirror, he found Skye’s reflection looking back.

  Resigned to what had to be, Jax sighed.

  “One night will never be enough.”

  “I know.” Skye handed him a towel.

  Jax would honor their agreement because he never broke his word and time with Skye was a gift. She wouldn’t be in his bed, but she’d be in his life, by his side.

  Wiping the water from his face, his eyes darkening to a midnight blue, Jax reminded himself nothing was forever. After all, a lot could change in a year.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ♫~♫~♫

  THEIR WORLD CHANGED in a heartbeat. When Razor’s Edge stepped off the plane into the California sunshine, they knew nothing would be the same.

  However, the shift in Jax—in everyone—was so dazzlingly subtle, looking back, he could never pinpoint the moment everything started to go wrong.

  For now, with the contracts signed and their first studio session booked, life was good. The ride from the airport to their hotel room was a perfect example. No mere taxi cab for The Ryder Hart Band’s new opening act. Only a gleaming white stretch limousine would do.

  Jax tried to act blasé, to look the part of an ultra-cool rock star. But the second his eyes met Skye’s wide-eyed gaze, he admitted the truth—at least to himself. He was a hick. A green as grass Aussie without a reputation to hang his hat on. The only saving grace? Kane, Beck, and Morgan were in the same boat, each hoping they didn’t spring a leak.

  Unlike the rest of them, the so-called men of the group, Skye didn’t feel compelled to fake an outward cool she didn’t feel. Overnight, her life went from boring and predictable to new and exciting. She refused to miss a second by adopting a been there, done that façade.

  The limousine was large enough to comfortably seat a professional football team’s starting offensive line—with leg room to spare. For six regular-sized humans, the band plus Joplin Ashford, the extra space bordered on ridiculous.

  Joplin traveled with them from Oregon, taking care of all the details from tickets to luggage pickup. All business, she eschewed the ponytail and jeans for a French twist, slim taupe-colored skirt, red silk blouse, and pumps sporting four-inch heels. Same glasses, same youthful visage, otherwise, she had adopted the demeanor of a strong, experienced professional.

  Officially, Joplin’s job title read Head of Public Relations. When Jax asked what that entailed, she laughed, the light sound reminding him, though she exuded the confidence of someone much older, she was their contemporary in age and experience.

  “You have a problem, come to me,” she explained. “Someone has a problem with you, they come to me. I arrange interviews, public appearances separate from your concert schedule. I make certain you’re on time—for everything. In other words—”

  “You’re paid to be a pain in the ass?”

  Joplin didn’t blink at Kane’s less-than-subtle barb. Literally, she did not blink. Keeping her green eyes leveled on her newly acquired nemesis, she opened the fully stocked bar with a flick of her wrist.

  “From now on, wherever you go, the free booze will flow like water. Enough to satisfy even the thirstiest jackass.” Her tone remained neutral, but her gaze sharpened to a gleaming point. “Be careful. Drugs. Women. Pick a vice, you’ll always have a sycophant within finger-snapping distance willing to provide total access.”

  Kane wasn’t a fool. He knew Joplin’s words were mainly directed at him. As with any warning, well-intentioned or not, he only heard what he wanted, ignoring the rest.

  “Looks like I finally found my place in the world.”

  Jax thought he saw a flicker of genuine concern in Joplin’s eyes. But the moment passed, leaving him unsure. Kane did everything in his power to alienate her. She had no reason to consider him anything more than part of her job.

  “Obliviously, I believe in Razor’s Edge.”

  “When we get to the hotel, remind me to send you flowers—charged to Uncle Danny, of course.”

  Best friend or not, Jax was five seconds away from wiping the smug sneer off Kane’s face. Before he had the chance, someone beat him to the punch.

  “For all that’s holy,” Skye erupted. “Shut your mouth, Kane.”

  Jax didn’t know who was more surprised. Skye, or every other person in the limo. Proud she’d found her voice, he waited, worried about Kane’s response.

  “Well, well. Looks like the kitten has claws,” Kane grinned. “A bit of advice. Next time, add a curse word or two for effect.”

  “First, I’m not a kitten. Second, I’ll stick to my PG-rated method.” Casually, Skye crossed her denim-covered legs. “Worked on you.”

  “She has you there,” Beck chuckled.

  “Worked once,” Kane c
onceded. “Next time, you’ll need more oomph to get my attention.”

  “Stop grousing at Joplin and save me the bother.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Skye. I’ve dealt with worse blowhards.”

  Kane ignored Joplin for once, keeping his attention trained on Skye.

  “Bet you curse like a sailor by the end of the tour.”

  “Bet she doesn’t.” Beck rubbed his hands together. “Name the stakes.”

  “Hundred bucks,” Kane said without hesitation.

  “Pretty steep, but I’m in.”

  “I’ll take a piece of the action.” Morgan, mostly silent since they boarded the plane, put out his hand.

  “What about you, Jax?” Kane asked, exchanging handshakes with Morgan, then Beck. “Want to join the fun?”

  Amused, Jax shook his head.

  “You guys have made some stupid bets, but this one takes the cake.”

  “Too bad the bet on when you and Skye would finally do the deed will never pay off. Kane gave me damn good odds.”

  “Big mouth,” Morgan huffed, kicking Beck in the leg.

  Realizing his mistake, Beck groaned, his gaze darting to Jax.

  “Sorry, man. I forgot.”

  “You told them?” A blush, fire-truck red, suffused Skye’s cheeks.

  “Figured if everyone knew, they’d spare you any embarrassing comments.” Jax’s eyelids narrowed with the promise of retribution. “Obviously, I was wrong.”

  “You’re part of the band, Skye. No subject is taboo,” Kane shrugged. “Especially our respective sex lives, whether we have one or not.”

  “Close your freaking mouth, Kane.” Impatience dripped from Joplin’s voice.

  “Two shut ups in a ten-minute span.” Beck cackled with unconcealed enjoyment. “Must be a record, even for you.”

  Jax could almost see the words pushing to crawl out of Kane’s mouth. Rarely one to let anything slide, for once, he swallowed the retort. Deliberately, as if to say I can only abstain from one thing at a time, he plucked a bottle of beer from the bar.

  Eyes locked on Joplin, he drained half the contents in one long gulp. Shaking her head, she returned to business.

  “Relax tonight. Tomorrow, you hit the recording studio. I’ll pick you up at nine o’clock—sharp.”