Wildflowers (JACT 2.5)

by Jennifer L. Allen

  “So what exactly are my plans for tomorrow?” I ask Joey after Tommy catches Alex in a headlock and drags him off.

  “I don’t know,” he answers, “but I’m hoping you’ll be doing something with me.”

  I tilt my head as I look up at him. “Aw, Joey…are you asking me on a date?” Butterflies take flight in my chest as I wait for his response.

  “If I did, would you say yes?”

  I think about it for a second—but only a second because I’d be a fool to say no. “Yes.”

  “Then I’m asking you on a date tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait.” His answering smile lights up his eyes.

  “Okay, let’s go so you can officially meet Trevor and Chase,” he says, removing his arm from my shoulders and taking my hand in his. He squeezes it once, then pulls me along behind him towards the table where Trevor and Chase are talking with some other guys. Lucky for us, Tommy is seated at the table, too.

  Joey seats us by Trevor and Chase; the air feels thick down here. “Official introductions,” Joey starts, “guys, this is Evie. Evie, this is Trevor and that’s Chase.”

  “And we’re chopped liver,” a guy from one of the support bands says, breaking the tension.

  Joey laughs. “Right. And chopped liver is Nick, and next to him is Scott.” I recognize them as the others that were at the saloon earlier today. “Do I need to introduce you, too, Tom?”

  Tommy laughs. “Nah, man. I’ve known this one since she was in diapers,” he says, running his hand through my hair and messing it up.

  “Hey!” I say, swatting his arm. “Don’t make me call your momma.”

  Tommy holds his hands up in surrender. “Don’t call my momma, E. She’ll probably beat my ass just like she used to when I picked on you.”

  I laugh at the image of Mrs. James beating Tommy’s ass. She’s at least a foot shorter than he is now, and a skinny little thing. But boy, she’s got a lot of spunk. I wouldn’t doubt she could still whoop his butt as well today as she did when he was a kid.

  I turn my attention back to Trevor and Chase. “It’s nice to officially meet y’all.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Joey

  Evie puts her hand out for the guys to shake, and I wait. I hope they can tell that by doing this—by bringing her here and doing this in front of Tommy—that this means something to me—that she means something to me.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too, Evie,” Trevor says, shaking her hand first.

  “Nice to meet you, Evie,” Chase echoes, shaking her hand as well.

  And I exhale for what feels like the first time since we sat down. Obstacle one: complete. Obstacle two is sitting on the other side of Evie, watching us with a strange expression on his face.

  “You two dating or something?” Tommy asks, still looking between Evie and me.

  “What?” Evie responds, her voice high-pitched. “We just met, Tommy. We’re having fun together.”

  He raises his hands again. “Hey, I was just asking. You seem all close and shit.”

  “So what if we are?” Evie bites back, her shoulders tense like she’s ready for a fight.

  “Jeez, E. I was just asking. You’re a big girl; you can do what you want. Can’t a guy just ask a question?” He shakes his head, looking to the rest of us for help. Everyone shakes their heads. “A lot of help you all are.”

  “So, Evie, you’re a photographer?” Chase asks. I meet his eyes and send him a silent thank you. He gives a small nod back.

  Evie’s green eyes light up as she begins talking about her work. “I do some freelance work for a small online newspaper. I’m hoping to get my foot in the door somewhere bigger and better, but it’s not an easy field to get into in Smalltown, USA. I really need to be in one of the bigger cities, or at least publish something in a major publication to get my name out there.”

  “I have faith in you, E,” Tommy tells her. Then he looks to the rest of us. “You should see some of her photos, they’re awesome. And she shoots everything…people, nature, events…all sorts of shit.”

  Evie blushes and looks down at the table. “You’ve seen my work?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Tommy nods, smiling like a proud big brother. “I follow your blog.”

  “You have a blog?” I ask, looking at Evie.

  She shrugs. “It’s nothing special. I just post some of my photos online.”

  I whip out my cell phone. “What’s the link?” I ask as I open the web browser. She gives me the web address and seconds later, I’m met with her smiling face as she leans back against the red VW with her arms spread wide. Behind her is a field of blue flowers, and the text above reads “Shutter Bug.” I can’t help but smile. This simple photo is so Evie. It perfectly captures her spirit—what little I know of it, anyway.

  I scroll down past that banner photograph and look at some of her recent posts. There’s nothing from our show, but I guess she hasn’t had the time to post anything between last night and today. She’s looking over my shoulder now, her breasts touching my arm ever so slightly, as I scroll through pictures. There’s a little of everything: rural landscapes, small town cityscapes, and people—some I can tell are family and friends just by the familiarity with which they’re looking at the lens, while others are candid shots, taken from a distance.

  I scroll down some more, absorbing this side of Evie; it’s absolutely fascinating. Tommy is right; she is awesome. After a couple more landscapes and about a dozen more images of those same blue flowers from the banner photo—Evie says they’re bluebonnets, the state flower of Texas—I come across several images of sheep.

  Yes…sheep.

  I look at Evie and raise an eyebrow.

  She raises an eyebrow right back. “What? I live on a sheep farm. Got a problem with that?”

  “A sheep farm?” Trevor asks, bemused.

  Evie looks at him. “Yes,” she answers firmly, daring him to say something negative or mocking. “We raise them for their wool, not for slaughter.”

  “That’s…interesting,” Trevor responds. “I’ve never met a sheep farmer.”

  “Can we call you Bo Peep?” Alex asks, joining our group.

  “Do it, and you’ll know what it’s like to be sheared,” Evie tells him with a sweet grin, batting her eyelashes. “And I think you like your hair a little too much for that, pretty boy.”

  The rest of the guys all erupt in hoots and catcalls. “She got you, man,” Scott says.

  “Hear that, boys?” Alex asks with a smile. “She called me pretty.”

  I shake my head and lean in to whisper in Evie’s ear; she shivers at my closeness, but leans in towards me anyway. “You created a monster, you do realize that?”

  She just laughs and shrugs. “I grew up with older brothers…and they all had friends. I can handle Alex.”

  I smile at her and just sit back as she interacts with the three people in the world closest to me. She teases Alex, arm wrestles Trevor, and talks local history with Chase, all the while I sit back and take it in.

  She fits.

  But in a couple days we’ll part ways. She’s agreed to a date tomorrow, but I can’t expect her to spend all our remaining time here in Dallas with me—as much as I’d like to. If given the opportunity, I’d spend every minute of that time with her. Aside from the interview in the morning, we don’t have any other commitments here. It’s basically time off.

  Can I convince her to stay with me?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Evie

  Trevor and Chase are really nice guys, once you get to know them—or once they got to know me and realized I’m not a threat to the tour or their relationship with Infrared. The rest of the guys are a riot, and I have a great time hanging out with all of them. It’s easy to see the camaraderie they’ve developed touring together the past few weeks.

  Around three in the morning, Trevor—who I’ve learned is the voice of reason, sort of like their conscience—reminds everybody of the radio interview in a f
ew hours, and the group begins to disperse. The guys all hug me goodbye, and we exchange those awkward pleasantries people share when they’re not sure if they’ll see each other again.

  “Maybe we’ll catch you at another show.”

  “It was great meeting you, Evie. Hopefully, we’ll see you again sometime.”

  “I’m going to follow your blog.”

  “Friend me on Facebook.”

  “It’s so good to see you again, E,” Tommy says, engulfing me in one of his great big hugs. “I’ll stop by your house before I leave town.”

  “You’d better. Momma will be pissed if you don’t.”

  He laughs. “I bet. And I don’t want to be on Momma Carson’s bad side.” He walks back toward the elevator, his eyes moving back and forth between me and Joey. “Be good,” he says, pointing his finger between us. With a wink, he disappears into the elevator with the rest of the guys, and Joey and I are alone.

  I turn to face him, and he mirrors my movement, taking my hand in his. “I’m not ready to say goodbye,” he tells me, looking down at our joined hands.

  I’m surprised at his honesty, but pleased he’s feeling the same way I am. “I’m not ready to say goodbye, either,” I say with quiet conviction.

  His eyes meet mine, and the heat in them is so intense. With that one look, he asks me if I’m ready for the spark between us to ignite. The spark that will start something we can’t possibly finish. The answer is a resounding yes, though I know—we both know—that this is only temporary. It has to be.

  Joey lifts his free hand and cups my cheek. I lean into his touch and close my eyes. I don’t say anything—I can’t. I just know that whatever direction this goes in will lead to heartache. Not the soul-crushing heartbreak of a lost love, but that pain of having a strong connection with someone and not knowing what could have been. The pain of regrets and missed opportunities.

  The soft press of Joey’s lips against mine breaks me from my thoughts and brings me back to the present. He lets go of my hand and places it on my other cheek, holding me still for him as he kisses first one side of my mouth, then the other, before resting in the center. He slips his tongue out, lightly licking the seam of my lips, and I open for him, sighing as I taste him for the first time. I taste the whiskey he’d sipped at the bar, and something else—something just Joey. I put my arms around his neck, weaving my fingers in his hair. We stand in that hotel lobby and kiss for minutes…unaware, or simply unconcerned, about whoever may be around us, witnessing our first—and quite possibly our last—kiss. It feels too good for me to care.

  My hands move from the back of Joey’s neck, down his chest and rest flat on his sculpted abs. I never would have guessed he had that under his t-shirt when I saw him in the green room. I really want to know what else he’s got under his clothes, but before I can explore any further south, Joey pulls away from me. He steps back a good foot, and we both stand there facing each other, panting.

  “Stay with me tonight,” Joey says, his eyes both pleading and wanting.

  Do I stay with him? My body’s response is a “Hell, yes!” but my head is begging me to consider the consequences of a one-night stand with a traveling musician. Questions flutter through my brain: Would I ever see Joey again? Do I want to see him again? Does he want to see me again? Could I live with myself if I did this? Would I regret it if I didn’t? I’m no virgin, but I don’t sleep around, either.

  But I’m not ready to say goodbye.

  He takes a step forward. “We don’t have to do anything,” he tells me, placing his hands gently on my arms. “We can just sleep or talk. I’m just not ready to let you go.”

  I look into his eyes and see the same confusion in them he must see in mine.

  “What is this?” I ask, searching for an answer—some answer—to any of my questions.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Joey

  “What is this?” Evie asks, her eyes wide and desperate. For what? I don’t know. And I wish I could answer her, but I’m just as clueless about this…feeling…as she is.

  “I don’t know, Sweetness. But we’d be crazy not to find out.”

  “You feel it, too, then?”

  I nod my head and sigh, pressing my forehead against hers. “I’ll be leaving soon…and I don’t know what that means for us…but we have tonight and tomorrow and the day after that to figure out what this is. When it comes time for me to leave, then we can figure out if we want to see where this might go or if we want to say goodbye.”

  She’s looking up at me with those gorgeous green eyes, and I pray—probably for the first time in my life—that she says yes. I don’t want this to end tonight. It can’t end tonight. Evie doesn’t say anything as she turns away from me, but at the last moment, she grabs my hand and pulls me towards the elevator bank.

  Yes!

  I meant what I said. We don’t have to do anything but sleep or talk or not talk or whatever. Nothing has to happen…just as long as we don’t say goodbye tonight.

  We enter the elevator, and I press the button for the eighth floor. The tension is high in the tight little space. She hasn’t let go of my hand, and I feel the energy moving between her body and mine. Damn. It’s going to be hard keeping my hands off her tonight—if that’s what she wants—but I’ll do anything to prolong this connection.

  “Do you have your own room?” she asks as the car rises.

  Shit! “No…I share with Alex. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about that.” Damn it! Why didn’t I consider that? “I can get us a room?”

  Her shoulders drop a little, and she says, “It’s okay. I don’t want you to go through any trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all,” I assure her. “I want you to be comfortable. Just let me grab some things from my room, and I’ll head back down and get another room.” It would put a dent in my meager earnings, but I’ll do it for Evie.

  “If you really want to…”

  “I do,” I say, squeezing her hand. She rewards me with that beautiful smile.

  We reach my floor and hurry down the hall to my room. I make quick work of the lock with the plastic card-key and cringe as I open the door, feeling the need to give Evie a warning. “So, I share a room with Alex, and we’re guys, and we’re not exactly neat…please don’t hold whatever you see in here against me.” She steps through as I hold the door open.

  “If this is a mess, then you need to see my room,” she laughs.

  My brows furrow in confusion. She must be a pig. I walk in behind her and look around the room with wide eyes. It’s spotless. The beds are made and all our clothes are tucked away in our duffels. This is not how we left this place this morning, and we haven’t been back since. The “Do Not Disturb” sign was still hanging from the doorknob when we walked in, so it couldn’t have been housekeeping.

  Evie’s laugh from across the room brings my attention from the clean room to her. She’s standing at the TV stand holding up a sheet of hotel stationery. I walk over and take the paper from her.

  J –

  Make it count. I’m staying with T and C.

  – A

  PS – If you’re all by yourself, come get me, T snores.

  Right beside the note is a small pile of condoms. I feel my cheeks heat up and laugh. When’s the last time I blushed? “Well, this is embarrassing.”

  “I think it’s pretty cute. He’s just looking out for you.”

  I turn to face Evie and take her hands in mine. “I meant what I said. We don’t have to do anything…we can just talk or go to sleep.”

  “I’m not really tired,” Evie says, the corner of her mouth tilting up as she shyly looks up at me.

  “You want to talk?” I ask, sensing that’s not it either. But I want to hear her say it.

  She shakes her head. “I’d kind of like to pick up where we left off downstairs.”

  I groan, and she smirks. This chick is killing me. She starts walking backwards towards my bed, pulling me along with her since I’m still
holding her hands. When her legs hit the back of the bed, she stops. She lets go of my hands and places them around my neck, pulling me down to her level, then she takes my mouth in a bruising kiss. I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her back. I’ve never felt more alive than I do with Evie. She awakens something inside of me. Something I don’t completely understand.

  She pulls me towards her, and we’re falling. I release her waist, putting my arms out to break my fall so I don’t crush her, all the while our lips never disconnect. Reaching my arm around her waist again, I lift her and crawl with her up the bed so her head is resting on a pillow. I pull back, just taking in the picture of her laying there on my bed. Her short hair is spread out around her head like a small halo and her cheeks are rosy pink, flushed with need and want. I dive back in, not sure I’ll ever get enough of this girl.

  We’re a tangle of limbs and clothes…too many clothes, if you ask me. She pulls my shirt over my head and I unbutton hers, revealing her lacy red bra beneath. God. Feeling her hot skin pressed up against mine is something else. I’ve gone further with other women, but something about this feels different…more intimate. She makes quick work of my jeans, and I sit up to remove my boots and socks. She kicks hers off and lifts her hips so I can pull her skirt off. She’s wearing matching red panties, and it takes everything in me not to rip them off, too.

  But no. We have to go slow here tonight. I want this to last for more than just one night, more than just the nights and days I have left here in Dallas. And for that to happen, we have to get to know one another. The physical stuff is all there—obviously—but is the mental stuff? Do we have an emotional connection?

  I feel like such a girl. Ally would be proud…

  I press gentle kisses all around her face—on her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, and her nose—then I roll over and pull her into my side so her head is resting on my chest. Her hand is on my abs and she traces their lines with her soft fingertips. She’s not helping the situation in my boxer shorts any, but I love the feel of her touch too much to complain.