Wildflowers (JACT 2.5)

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Wildflowers (JACT 2.5) Page 1

by Jennifer L. Allen




  Wildflowers

  JACT Book 2.5

  By Jennifer L. Allen

  Wildflowers

  Copyright © 2016 Jennifer L. Allen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Published: Jennifer L. Allen 2016

  [email protected]

  Editor: Aimee Lukas

  Cover Design: Pink Ink Designs

  Dedication

  To all the wildflowers out there.

  Chase your dreams.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Connect With Me

  Books by Jennifer L. Allen

  Chapter One

  Joey

  Present day…

  “I feel like an ape in this monkey suit,” my best friend, Alex, says, tugging on the bowtie around his neck.

  “Calm down,” Trevor says, swatting at his brother’s hand. “You’ve had to wear a tux before.”

  “But that was for award shows and banquets. It’s written into our contract,” Alex argues, referring to the contract our band, JACT, signed with our record label. He makes a face in the mirror and continues to wriggle his entire body, emphasizing his discomfort. It looks just like a move my almost four-year-old son, Max, makes when he’s itchy or excited…or when he has to pee…

  “This is for Chase and Ally. It’s even more important than any event in our contract.” Trevor has a point there, and Alex knows it. He sighs as he accepts his defeat. Any of us would do anything for each other, and that’s especially true when it comes to Ally. She may be their sister by blood, but she’s mine by choice. We’ve had a few rough years with Ally—with Ally and Chase—but things are great now, and everything is exactly how it should be.

  “I wish Mom and Dad could be here to see it,” Alex adds, solemnly.

  Well, almost everything…

  “They’re seeing it all, man. Don’t worry about that,” I tell him, patting him on the shoulder. Trevor, Alex, and Ally’s parents died in a car accident months before we got our record deal. Ally narrowly survived the accident and ended up in a coma the night of her and Alex’s high school graduation.

  Alex and Trevor nod, but both are a little more somber now, missing their parents. Hell, I miss Mr. and Mrs. Monroe. They were like parents to me, too. The kind of parents every kid wishes he’d had.

  Damn drunk driver.

  “Whoa…why are you all looking so morose?” Chase asks as he steps out of the dressing room, straightening the lapels on his jacket.

  “Damn, you’re looking quite dapper, Mr. Baker,” I joke in an attempt to break the melancholy atmosphere.

  It works, and he grins. “I do look pretty good, don’t I?” He turns to look at himself in the mirror. His tux is black like ours, but we’re wearing white shirts, black vests, and blue bowties while he’s wearing a black shirt and a white vest with a white tie. We match the bridesmaids and he matches the bride. As he should.

  “I can’t believe you’re marrying my sister,” Alex groans.

  He and Chase had a hard time for a little while after Chase and Ally’s relationship was revealed a few years ago. Alex was hurt that they’d kept it a secret, but eventually, at the urging of Ally, Alex forgave Chase. Things continued to be tense for a while, especially when we’d been cooped up on a bus during our tour, but it eventually worked itself out, as those things often do.

  “Deal with it, brother,” Chase says, adjusting his bowtie in the mirror.

  “I’m just kidding. You know I couldn’t pick anyone better for my little sister than you, Chase.”

  “You’re only four minutes older than her,” Trevor throws in for Ally’s benefit. If she had been here, she would have said it herself.

  “Whatever,” Alex rolls his eyes. “Can I get out of this now?” he asks, pulling at his bowtie.

  “Did the tailor measure you?” Chase asks him. “You know Ally will shit if your tux doesn’t fit right.”

  “Yes, Dad. I’m all measured up and everything is fine. I’m better than fine,” he says with a sly grin, wriggling his eyebrows. Such a dog.

  “Go change,” Chase tells him before he walks off to meet with the tailor.

  Since Trevor and I already had our turns with the tailor, too, we return to the dressing rooms to change back into our street clothes.

  “You ever regret not having a wedding?” Trevor calls over the partition.

  “Evie and I had a wedding,” I say back.

  “You were married by Elvis,” Alex interjects.

  “What’s wrong with that?” I ask. It may have been unconventional, but nothing about Evie’s and my relationship can be considered conventional.

  “Nothing wrong with it, brother,” Trevor says. “Just wondering if you ever wish you had the whole deal. Church ceremony—”

  “Because we’re so religious…” I cut him off.

  “Big reception with family and friends—”

  “I had my family and friends there—you guys.”

  “Flowers, photographer, videographer—”

  “Bachelor party!” Alex includes excitedly.

  He can’t wait for the bachelor party this evening. Too bad it’s not going to include all the booze and strippers he’s hoping for. As the best man, Trevor has planned a pretty tame evening for the guy marrying his baby sister. Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same if I had a little sister. Lord knows if I ever have a daughter, she’s never getting married.

  “Nah, w
e didn’t need all that. We had each other, and we had you guys. And her parents threw us a party when we went to Texas. That’s all we needed.”

  Hours and hours of planning, organizing various activities, picking out table linens and menu items, dresses and monkey suits just isn’t our thing.

  Evie and I…we’re free spirits. Wildflowers. We fly by the seat of our pants and go where the wind takes us. It’s just the way we are, and it’s perfect.

  Everything about our relationship has been a whirlwind. An amazing, epic whirlwind. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  I think back to the first time I saw her…

  Chapter Two

  Joey

  Five years ago…

  “Great show tonight, guys,” Trevor says as we step away from the backstage noise and into the green room. We all nod as we make beelines to the water bottles set on ice on the opposite side of the room.

  We’re three weeks into our tour, currently in Dallas. I never thought I’d be here. Not just in Texas—though it’s true I never thought I’d leave the state of North Carolina, let alone end up halfway across the county—but here, on tour with my band, doing what I love every damn day with my best friends. The whole experience has been surreal.

  JACT formed in Trevor and Alex Monroe’s garage a few years ago. We never expected to go anywhere; we were just having a good time. Hell, we didn’t even name ourselves. And look at us now, touring the country with top-of-the-charts rock band, Infrared Flamingos.

  I look around the green room and see my guys laughing and joking with some of the members of one of the other support bands. We’re hyped up from just getting off stage; they’re hyped up to go on stage. I just can’t believe this is my life. Our life.

  Just a few months ago—after the accident—things had seemed so bleak. Our world was rocked by the loss of Trevor and Alex’s parents. With Ally’s life hanging in the balance, I wasn’t sure we’d ever experience a joy like this. Chase and I didn’t have great home lives, and Mr. and Mrs. Monroe were like surrogate parents, which also meant Ally was like a sister. We all pretty much grew up together, and we were a family. Losing Mr. and Mrs. Monroe, and in a sense Ally too, just about tore us all apart. If you had asked me, hell, asked any of us, a few months ago if we thought we’d be on tour right now, we probably would have laughed in your face.

  Not to mention, who would ever think a poor, high school dropout from a broken home could end up living his dream? Especially with the bullshit life kept throwing at me. I sure as hell didn’t. Okay, so yeah, it happens. I’m sure L.A. and New York are littered with high school dropouts making an easy buck nowadays, but I never thought it would be me. I never thought I’d be on that level. On this level.

  Can’t say I don’t love it though. The pure, natural high from being on stage in front of thousands of people, beating my drums, traveling the country, and let’s not forget the ladies. They’re everywhere, and they love musicians. I’m nineteen and in the prime of my life—the pre-prime of my life—it can’t get any better than this.

  “Joey,” Alex snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Where’s your head at, man?”

  I shake the musings from my mind and direct my attention to my best friend. “What’s up?”

  “Meet and greet in five,” he says, putting out his hand. I grasp it, and he pulls me up from the couch I’d parked myself in.

  Like Trevor and Chase are best friends, Alex and I are best friends. It’s nothing personal; we just sort of paired off initially because we were in the same grades. As a group, we’re all best friends—brothers even—but Alex and I have nearly identical personalities, so we tend to gravitate towards similar activities. We’re both very outgoing and laidback, while Trevor and Chase are more quiet and reserved. They both think before they speak; Alex and I don’t. But we balance one another out pretty well.

  As usual, Alex and I enter the meet and greet room from the back, quietly. Essentially, we try to sneak in and do a sweep of the room so we can scope out the chicks. It’s not always easy to get lucky on these tour stops, but we’re spending four days in Dallas since this is Infrared’s hometown, and they’re playing two shows. Alex and I plan to take full advantage of this rare occasion that we’re actually sleeping in a hotel and not in a tin can with three other dudes.

  Alex elbows my side, “Hey, that’s the chick with the camera. She was in the press pit during the show. Couldn’t take her eyes off you, man. I bet she’s got a ton of pictures of you on that camera.”

  I follow his line of sight to a short, sexy looking thing. Her back is to me, so I can’t see her face, but I can see short blond hair with pink tips and a skinny waist with curvaceous hips that end at a nice, heart-shaped ass. I’m the shortest guy in the band, topping off at about five-seven, so this pint-size pixie princess is just what the doctor ordered. I can’t stop the grin from forming as I imagine all the ways I can have her later. I’m mentally tearing off her tight black tank top and peeling her skinny jeans down her legs, when Alex nudges me again.

  “Busted,” he says.

  I look up from her ass to see the most piercing green eyes staring back at me from over her shoulder. The tiny smirk on her face indicates she’s amused at having caught me ogling her ass. Noted. God, she’s pretty. Bright green eyes, small button nose, and pink pouty lips.

  She has to be mine.

  Chapter Three

  Evie

  I’m bouncing on my feet backstage after Infrared Flamingos’ show. Being here is exciting. Not because I’m a groupie, but because I grew up down the dirt road from Tommy James—the bassist—and I can’t wait to surprise him. He’s best friends with my oldest brother, Jason; I haven’t seen Tommy since Infrared made it big, and he relocated to L.A.

  I tap the press pass hanging around my neck, ensuring it’s still there. I freelance for an online newspaper and I don’t usually cover concerts, but when I mentioned to the editor that I knew Tommy and was planning to attend the concert, he insisted I join Jordan, our music journalist, probably hoping to get some kind of exclusive. But that ain’t happening. I doubt even I could get Tommy to do an exclusive for a Small Town, USA online newspaper. Newsletter is more like it, anyway.

  I’m hanging out with Jordan, talking to some of the guys from one of the opening acts, 12 Inches Limp—hilarious name by the way—when the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I have that eerie feeling someone’s watching me. I look over my shoulder to investigate and see the hottest guy I have ever laid eyes on…staring right at my ass. I recognize him as the drummer from the band JACT. I couldn’t take my eyes off him when they were on stage, and I can’t take my eyes off him now.

  His friend—the singer—nudges him and says something, making his eyes jump up to mine. I grin, utterly amused. His eyes are the color of chocolate and his hair is on the long side. He has a little more than a five o’clock shadow on his face. His full lips pull into a wide smile when he realizes he’s caught. I consider approaching him, when Jordan nudges my side and tells me we need to head back out front to catch Infrared. I turn back to the hot drummer, give a little wink, then follow Jordan out of the room.

  ***

  Infrared Flamingos has this new, amazing energy about them that they hadn’t had when they played the small stages back home. I can’t even begin to reconcile the band I knew before and the band I saw on stage tonight, headlining their very own show. It’s bizarre. I can’t wait to see Tommy and congratulate him.

  I head back to the meet and greet room with Jordan on my tail, knowing he’s going to try to take full advantage of my introduction of him to Tommy. I wait by the door so I can catch Tommy on his way in the room. Jordan finally backs off for a moment to run to the rest room, and I promise him I will not move from this position until I’ve introduced him to Tommy.

  Suddenly, I have that feeling again—prickles up and down my spine—and I feel the heat of a body behind me.

  “Where have you been all my life?” a deep, masculine voice
asks.

  I can’t help it; I bust out laughing. Spinning around to face the drummer, I say “Is that the best you’ve got?” He looks at me like I’m crazy for not falling for his line, and it makes me laugh even harder.

  “It’s not the best line I’ve got, but it’s the only one that’s honest.”

  I sober up and take him in. His furrowed brows, wide eyes, and boyish looks make him appear vulnerable, and I’m having a hard time determining if this is an act or if I’ve actually offended him by laughing at his advances.

  “Let’s try this again,” I say to him, sticking out my hand. “I’m Evie Carson.”

  He takes my hand, and I feel a shock ripple through my body from the contact, “Joey Adams.”

  “You’re the drummer for JACT,” I say, rolling my eyes on the inside at how lame that was.

  “I am,” he nods, taking a step closer. “You’re a photographer?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say, smiling when I look down and realize he’s still holding my hand, only now that he’s standing a step closer, our hands are hanging between us, as if we’re a couple holding hands and not just two people introducing themselves.

  “I like your hair,” he smiles shyly, looking down at our Converse-covered feet. Gone is the cocky guy I caught staring at my ass from across the room.

  “Thank you,” I say, reaching up to twirl a short lock around my finger. “I like to try out different colors every once in a while.”

  “The pink suits you; it’s pretty. You’re pretty.” And did he just blush? Who is this guy?

  I smile wide. “Thank you, Joey.”

  “You’re welcome. So, you caught our show?”

  “Yeah, you guys rocked! It was great!” I honestly didn’t know what to expect of Infrared Flamingos’ opening bands as I’d never heard of them, but I figured if Tommy had anything to do with it, they wouldn’t suck. And JACT did not suck. I’d been lured right up to the front of the stage by their sound during their set.

 

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