ALMOST PARADISE

by Williams, Mary J.

  “Jax?”

  Skye approached, weaving around the buckled sidewalk, carrying a grocery-filled tote bag in each hand.

  “Long time, no see.”

  Not the cleverest response, but as usual, the second Jax looked into her dark eyes, he lost the ability to breathe. Luckily, the affliction was temporary. Filling his lungs, he relieved Skye of the bags.

  “Why are you here? What’s wrong? Is Kane okay? Morgan? Beck? No, Joplin would have called.” Her eyes clouded. “Oh, my God. Did something happen to Joplin?”

  “Everyone is fine. Though I’m not sure about you,” Jax joked.

  “You put me on a plane this morning. This afternoon, I find you outside my family’s house. Sorry,” Skye scoffed. “Give me a few minutes to get used to the idea before I organize a celebratory parade.”

  Eyes flashing, hands on hips, her words dripped with snarky sarcasm. Lord, Jax thought as his heart fell at her feet, she was amazing. And, if he told her every day for the rest of their lives, he could never verbalize just how magnificent she was.

  “Aren’t you glad to see me? Just a little?”

  “Of course.” Exasperated, Skye took a key from her pocket. “However, if you don’t tell me why I have the pleasure of your company, you’ll feel the toe of my shoe in a very delicate area.”

  Knowing she did not make empty threats, Jax stepped back. Teasing her was fun, a kick to his balls, not so much.

  “Savoir is the number one song in the country.”

  Skye’s mouth opened, then closed without a word passing her lips. Jax made a mental note of the date, the first time he rendered Skye Monroe speechless.

  “Savior?” she gasped.

  Jax nodded.

  “Our song?”

  “Technically, Kane’s,” Jax qualified. “However, you and I killed the duet.”

  Skye let out a bone-rattling scream and jumped into his arms, wrapping herself around him like the softest, sexiest blanket ever made.

  “You could have called,” she laughed, not letting go.

  “And miss your reaction?” Jax dropped the shopping bags, tightened his hold, and said a silent but reverential prayer of thanks. “Can’t feel you in my arms over the phone.”

  “Crap,” Skye sighed. “Dad.”

  “Where?” Jax looked around, ready to take whatever her father wanted to dish out—and give some in return.

  “He’s at work. But our neighbors notice everything.”

  Figuring the damage was done, Jax carried Skye to the front porch before he let her down.

  “Your neighbors are stool pigeons?”

  “The stooliest,” she confirmed with a grimace. “Mr. Boxer, from across the street, will waylay Dad before his car comes to a stop.”

  “What about Mrs. Boxer?” Jax retrieved the shopping bags while Skye opened the door.

  “Dead.” She guided him through the living room to the kitchen. “Heart attack was the official cause. My theory? Twenty-five years of terminal boredom finally turned fatal.”

  Laughing, Jax set the bags on the counter.

  “You really don’t like your neighbor.”

  “Want to know who started the myth about nosy women?” Skye shoved a gallon of milk into the refrigerator. “Nosy men eager to pass the blame onto women, as usual.”

  Jax took the carton of eggs from Skye before her iron grip crushed the fragile shells.

  “Is your issue with Mr. Boxer in particular, or men in general?”

  “Mr. Boxer, and some men. In case you forgot, I like you and the rest of the guys. Even Kane, when he forgets to be a jerk.”

  Rather than sour the moment, Jax decided to skip Kane’s latest escapade and Joplin’s reaction.

  “A quick reminder? Our song is number one.”

  Skye pumped her fists into the air. Warm, sweet, she lay her head on his shoulder.

  “Thank you.”

  “For my talent, my undeniable good looks?”

  Laughing, Skye snuggled close.

  “For the money and adulation. More important, thank you for the adventure, the music. For taking a greenhorn, making her part of a tight-knit group, giving her Kane, Morgan, and Beck—three friends, three brothers.” She sighed. “You gave me so much, and I had the audacity to lay down a set of rules. Still can’t figure out why you didn’t toss me out on my backside.”

  “No arguing, you were an inexperienced performer, but you made Razor’s Edge better from the get-go. You earned the money, deserve the adulation. As for the rules, we both know why I agreed.” Jax tipped Skye’s chin. Looking into her eyes, his breath caught in his throat. “Nothing’s changed. Except how much I want you.”

  “Find someone else.”

  Jax touched his lips to her forehead and smiled. Twice in one day, someone close to him made the same suggestion. Beck made a compelling argument but now, with Skye in his arms, the idea was untenable.

  “You want me to have sex with another woman?”

  “Want? No.” Skye let out a harsh, painful-sounding laugh. “Right now, I can’t give you what you need, what you deserve. If another woman can…?”

  Jax’s blood burned, not with desire, but anger.

  “Maybe you should pick her out. Give her the key to my room.”

  “Why not?” Skye shrugged.

  “Seriously?” Jax knew his fingers would leave marks on Skye’s arms, but his brain refused to tell his fingers to relax their grip. “You once accused Kane of playing pimp, now you want the honor?”

  “I want you to be happy.” Pulling away, she went to the sink, filling a kettle with water. “Fair warning, any woman I deliver will come with a few flaws.”

  “Flaws?” What the hell was she talking about?

  “Half bald where I ripped out her hair. Probably a fat lip.” Skye turned the heat on under the kettle. “Definitely a fat lip.”

  “Jesus, Skye.” Shaking his head, Jax rubbed the back of his neck. “You had me going.”

  Skye leaned her hip against the counter.

  “I’m serious—about the first part.”

  Taking her hand, Jax laced their fingers together.

  “Forget me for a second. What do you want?”

  “Right now?” she smiled.

  “Right this second,” Jax nodded.

  “More than anything, I want to kiss you.”

  More than anything, he wanted to make Skye happy. In the process, if he received his heart’s desire, who was around to raise a fuss?

  Jax advanced, forcing her retreat until she was trapped, her back against the refrigerator, her front against his.

  “We can’t have everything. But we’ve been so good.” He brushed a lock of blond hair from her cheek. “Don’t we deserve a reward?”

  “Yes,” Skye whispered, her gaze dropping to his lips. “Please.”

  Jax could count on one hand the number of times they’d kissed. Yet before their lips touched, his mouth watered in anticipation of her sweet, unforgettable flavor.

  Would he hold her again? Know her touch, her taste? Because the next time wasn’t a given, Jax didn’t rush, taking infinite care to make a memory neither of them would forget.

  Eyes open, watching her every reaction, he traced the outline of her mouth with his tongue. Her head fell back, her sigh of pleasure like music to his ears.

  “Don’t stop,” Skye begged, her fingers running through his hair, her hands keeping him close. “Never stop.”

  Jax nipped at her chin, wondering at the way her irises turned from cocoa brown to a color so dark all he could think of was rich, glossy ebony.

  “You want forever?” His lips hovered over hers.

  “Always.”

  Everyone deserved a chance at happiness. Jax and Skye were no different. If he had to move heaven and earth, if his only tool was the sheer force of his will, somehow, he would turn her wish into reality.

  Now, forever, always.

 
“Get your hands off my daughter.”

  Skye stiffened. Her arms dropped to her sides, her once-warm, pliable body sliding from Jax’s embrace. But she didn’t move away, she moved in front, a buffer between him and her father.

  Jax wasn’t about to allow Skye to act as his human shield, the very idea was well-intentioned but sickening, and utterly ridiculous. Built like a linebacker, Todd Monroe outweighed her by a good seventy-five pounds. If he went into attack mode, her slight body would be as much protection as a sheet of tissue paper, a theory he proved with ease.

  Skye tried to hold her ground, but no luck. Jax switched their positions, coming face to face with her father for the first time.

  “Let me guess,” Skye sighed. “Mr. Boxer called you at work.”

  “Good thing, too, or I wouldn’t know you broke your promise.” Todd’s eyes didn’t move from Jax, but the censure in his voice was directed at Skye. “Probably already did. Just like your mother. Lies, lies, lies.”

  Taking Jax’s hand, Skye stood by his side. The shift was subtle, but he sensed Skye was ready to stand up to her father. His pulse accelerated. She was an adult, capable of making her own decisions, and if necessary, living with her mistakes.

  “I’ve never lied to you, Dad. So, here’s the truth. You have my love. I will always be your daughter. But you need to loosen your hold—on me, and Gabi.”

  “Your sister’s a good girl, a good daughter.”

  And Skye wasn’t? The implication was about as subtle as a bag of rocks. Jax could tell her father’s words hurt, but Skye didn’t flinch.

  “Gabi won’t always be your little girl, Dad. When she’s older, if you don’t give her room now, she’ll rebel.”

  “Like you are now?”

  Skye shrugged. She said her piece.

  Jax expected Todd Monroe to yell. He was prepared for a monumental rant delivered at the top of the older man’s lungs. Verbal or physical, Skye was worth any fight, and he was ready.

  After a lifetime of manipulation, Todd Monroe knew his daughter. Without harsh words or raised fists, he hit with a counterpunch Jax never saw coming. Who would believe a grown man with a jaw cut from granite and arms the size of redwoods would break down in big, fat, sloppy sobs?

  Skye saw through her father’s obvious ploy, and Jax felt victory slide his way. But the playing field wasn’t level. Todd Monroe held a wildcard too powerful for him to beat. Skye’s little sister.

  “Daddy?” Gabi stood in the doorway, the spitting image of Skye ten years earlier, her eyes wide with distress as she witnessed a fresh set of tears run down her father’s face. She ran into his outstretched arms. “What happened?”

  Todd wiped at his cheeks.

  “Nothing, sweetheart.” Over Gabi’s head, Todd gave Skye a pitiful smile. “Everything’s fine.”

  Shoulders slumped, Skye nodded, a clear signal she’d made her choice. Taking Jax’s hand, she walked him to the front door.

  “Leave with me now.” Jax had to try one last time.

  “Our mother is gone.” Skye blinked back the tears. Cheeks dry, she squeezed his hand, willing him to understand. “Gabi needs me.”

  Jax searched for an argument, something to change her mind, but he knew the effort would end the same.

  “You’ll come back for the rest of the tour?”

  “Yes. But…” Briefly, Skye rested her head on his chest. Dropping his hand, she stepped away. “The rules will still apply.”

  “If I asked you to break them?”

  “I can’t.”

  “You could, but you won’t.”

  For the first time, Jax felt hope slip through his fingers. He picked up his backpack and left.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ♫~♫~♫

  JAX KNEW HIS world was slowly sliding toward disaster, had been for a long time.

  Months ago, he saw the precipice in the distance, miles, and miles away, plenty of time to change direction before everything came crashing down. Nothing he did seemed to matter, and the people he used to lean on when things spiraled downward were either unwilling or incapable of helping him bail water from their sinking ship.

  “Been a big boy for a long time, Jax.” Kane poured himself another shot of Coleccion. Only the best tequila these days. “I blow my own nose, wipe my ass—pick the people I want in my life. So far, you make the cut. Keep riding me hard? You, my holier than thou friend, aren’t indispensable.”

  “All the years we’ve known each other, the crap we waded through, and you’d throw everything away over a woman like Delilah Larraine?”

  Rather than answer directly, Kane swerved around the question.

  “I like the countess. She’s fun, doesn’t judge, and never runs out of the really good drugs.”

  “Unlike me?”

  “You never gave me drugs,” Kane snorted. “Good or otherwise.”

  Even at his worst, Kane eventually listened to reason. At his lowest, he wouldn’t touch anything stronger than a beer before a performance. Now, neither was true.

  The countess used Kane’s weaknesses against him, indulging his whims, catering to his vices. She set out to get her claws into a rock star. The booze and drugs were proof she’d stoop to any means to keep him.

  Kane didn’t seem to realize how far he’d sunk or didn’t care. Too thin, sunken eyes, pasty skin. A sycophant would lie, claim he was simply run down. A friend would deal him a dose of reality. He resembled death warmed over.

  Unfortunately, these days, Kane wasn’t interested in the truth or his friends.

  A tap sounded on the dressing room door.

  “Come in.” Jax welcomed the interruption.

  “You go on in less than an hour.” Joplin eyed Kane as he drained his glass in two gulps, her expression impossible to read. “You might want to cut out the booze until after the show.”

  “Might I?” Kane asked in a posh British accent. Deliberately, he held out his hand. “Steady as a rock. When I can’t hold a pick, we’ll talk.”

  “Asshole,” Joplin muttered.

  Kane blinked, leaning closer.

  “What did you say?”

  “She called you an asshole.” Beck exited the bathroom. “I concur.”

  “Well, fuck you, Beckett, and the horse you rode in on.” Kane grabbed the half-empty bottle. “My real friend and I will see you on stage.”

  “Why isn’t he flat on his ass?” Beck buttoned his shirt. “Even better, why don’t I just knock him flat and cut out the middle man?”

  The reasons were painfully obvious. They needed Kane, at least for tonight. Even drunk, he could beat most men in a fight—fair or not. Before Jax could continue his mental list, Beck slammed out.

  “The house is already packed. Last show of the tour enthusiasm.”

  Joplin took a second to rub her temples, something Jax hadn’t seen her do before. A source of endless energy and enthusiasm, she never complained and never flagged.

  Taking a closer look, Jax saw a tired young woman. Not surprising. For a year, she had juggled a dozen balls, keeping them aloft without breaking a sweat. Or so he thought.

  Truth was, he took her for granted, they all did; a sign of how well she kept the band’s world running. A sign of what a selfish bastard Jax had become. His personal life a mess, he forgot how much effort the professional side needed to work.

  If not for Joplin, Jax shuddered to think where Razor’s Edge would be.

  “Why don’t you sit and take a minute.”

  “Don’t have time. I have members of the media to greet and brief, entertainment VIPs to keep happy, plus a slew of last-minute details too numerous and boring to mention.”

  “You need an assistant.”

  “Technically, fancy title aside,” she said with a self-deprecating smile. “I am an assistant to Danny Graham.”

  Jax hadn’t realized how much Joplin did all day, seven days a week. Rather, he chose not to see. Without realizing he
’d become the thing he dreaded, an overprivileged celebrity.

  “You do all the work, Danny gets the glory, plus eighteen percent.” The amount rankled, but at the time Razor’s Edge signed their contract, they weren’t positioned to bargain. Next time would be different.

  “Danny’s the chess master, maneuvering thousands of little pieces. Believe me, he’s earned the right.”

  Jax didn’t agree. However, now wasn’t the time to debate the issue. For once, Joplin was the focus of his attention.

  “And what are you? Besides overworked and underappreciated?”

  “I’m grateful,” she said without the irony Jax believed the statement deserved. “Not many people barely in their twenties have a dream job like mine. For women, the number is even smaller.”

  “Are you paid as much as a man?”

  “If Danny weren’t my uncle, probably not.” Joplin sighed. “Wage discrimination is a topic for another time.”

  Joplin, no doubt, would be well-informed and possess a definite opinion on the subject.

  “The point is, I’m here because of Danny. He’s been good to me, took the time to teach me—everything. And, I will never say a bad word about him.”

  Loyalty and love. Seemed like a lifetime ago he thought nothing was more important; that if Razor’s Edge stayed true to each other, nothing could get in their way. He’d never have dreamed the biggest obstacle in their path would turn out to be themselves.

  “Forget Danny, and business, and everything else for the next five minutes.” Jax led her to the sofa, taking a seat next to her. Keeping her hand in his, he frowned at how thin she appeared. “Have you always been so delicate?”

  Joplin laughed, a good sound he hadn’t heard in too long.

  “Makes me think of my mother. She always said a woman was in a delicate condition rather than pregnant. Her Southern lady upbringing, I suppose.”

  Funny, but Jax wouldn’t be distracted.

  “Tell me you’re eating enough, and I’ll drop the subject.”

  “Define enough.” Joplin patted his hand. “I had a check-up last week. Other than a small iron deficiency, easily solved by a multivitamin and a handful of raisins each morning, I was proclaimed healthy as the proverbial horse.”