by Sadie Grubor
"Damn, this place deserves respect." Big Kam claps Red on the shoulder after the lights come back to normal.
"I'm hoping it gets some soon." Red lifts his beer bottle and drinks.
"You've got mine and you got some talent in this joint." Kam settles back in his chair. "I mean, Liza's a given, but, damn, that redhead is tight."
"Thank you." Red gives a sly smile.
Knowing about his relationship with Bethany, I'm sure that's the reason behind the look.
"I think you'll enjoy Madame J and Lady Nikle. They're up next." Red nods to the stage.
"You plan on doing guest performances?" Big Kam asks.
"I've actually done one." Red's eyes move to me for a moment. "But, I'd like to do more. You know, to draw people in."
Kam nods, looking deep in contemplation for a moment before he says, "If you can get me on stage with Liza, I'd be down for a spot."
"We'll talk." Red raises his beer.
"I wanna do it," Mia says, leaning her upper body onto the table.
"The hell you do," Chris protests.
Rolling her eyes, she keeps looking at Red. "I don't know anything about burlesque, but I'm open to whatever."
"It's more a cabaret-slash-burlesque kind of thing," Red clarifies.
Mia opens her mouth, but Chris breaks back into the conversation.
"The only thing you're open for is me." Chris sets his glass down, making it clack against the table.
Mia finally gives him her attention. On a sigh, she says, "Do you always have to be an asshole?"
Shrugging, he nods, answering, "You already know this."
"And yet, I still put up with you," Mia says, sitting back into the booth.
Chris puts his arms around her, pulling her into his side. "You fucking love me." He presses his lips to her temple.
My chest aches with want and I crane my neck, looking for Liza.
"She is amazing," Gemma says, obstructing my search with her appearance.
Squeezing into the booth, she forces me to scoot over to accommodate her.
"Do you think she and the redhead would be interested in auditioning with my stage director?" Her large eyes are filled with as much hope as her question.
Shrugging, I say, "I can ask her, but I'm not sure what she wants to do."
The statement is true, and the fact that I don't know what she wants to do, bothers me. I glance back at Chris, who still holds Mia captive.
Am I being like him? I haven't asked Liza once what she wants. Closing my eyes, I rub my forehead. Damn it, I am being like Christopher. Fuck.
"Are you okay?" Gemma's hand lays on my forearm.
"No," I groan, throwing my body against the back of the booth. Lifting my hand from my head, I motion to Chris. "I'm acting like the douche sitting across from me."
After the show when most of the crowd is gone, Sid leads the way backstage. She, Xavier, and I the only ones, besides Red, left from our group.
"You're not gonna act like your brother, are you?" Red asks, keeping pace with my strides.
"Meaning?" I round a small table.
"Meaning, you aren't going to rush the stage and carry her off because she's half-naked." His brow raises, anticipating my response.
Grinning, I shake my head.
"Nah. I'm a proud man, watching her perform."
"Good, cause I don't want to ban your ass."
"You'd ban me?" I fake shock.
We reach the curtain camouflaging the door to the back.
"Damn straight."
Sid pulls back the sheath of red velvet, grabbing the door handle. Xavier stands close to her back, holding the curtain open.
"Can I get some space, Gandalf the Red?" she asks, obviously annoyed.
"I'm just being helpful," Xavier responds innocently, but he could definitely help without riding her back.
"Mmhmm." She pulls open the door, putting force into it, landing an elbow in his rib.
Xavier gasps from the pain.
"Damn, woman. I'm all for rough, but at least ask my safe word first."
Growling, she slips through the door.
Xavier stands, holding the door open, giving us a large, goofy grin.
"You're a masochist." Red shakes his head, passing through the door.
"Maybe a little." He shrugs.
"You're a brave man," I say, patting his shoulder before ducking into the next room.
"Not really," Xavier says, closing the door behind him. "You guys are just a bunch of pussies. And speaking of pussy, where's my little hellcat?"
He cranes his neck, finding Sid talking to some performers.
"Excuse me," he says, moving in her direction.
At the private dressing room door, Red knocks. Calling through the door, he asks, "All the goodies covered?"
The door swings open to Bethany standing in a pink kimono.
"Like you wouldn't come in either way." She smirks.
"If it were just you, yes." Red grins back, grabbing her hips and backing her into the room.
The moment I enter, Liza turns from her mirror—one fake eyelash still on, curly blonde extensions hanging from the corner of her vanity, and a pile of make-up covered face wipes in front of her.
"Hey," I greet, taking the chair next to her.
"Hi." She blushes.
Looking away, she removes the remaining false lash and scrubs at her face. I watch the way she moves the cloth around her eyes, nose, mouth, neck.
And…I'm hard. Christ, is there anything she does that doesn’t turn me on?
"You're making me self-conscious."
Her words pull me out of my lustful thoughts.
"Why?"
"Because you're staring." Twisting in her chair, she drops the used wipe onto the pile. "I warned you."
Furrowing my brow, I ask, "Warned me 'bout what?"
"That I don't look like Miz Liz outside of this place."
She turns away again, hiding behind her hair.
Grasping the bottom of her chair, I pull her toward me.
"Jackson," she yelps, holding the sides for balance.
Taking her face between my palms, I kiss her hard and push her chair back in its place.
"Hurry and finish, so we can get home."
Her eyes wide in surprise, she nods.
"And so we can save Xavier from an early death."
Keeping her eyes on the reflection, she asks, "Death?"
"Yeah." I nod. "Death by Sidrome."
"Sid..?" She stops and bursts into a fit of laughter. "Oh, shit," she pants, "I'm going to have to tell her that one."
"Don't you dare." I straighten in my chair.
"Why not?"
She collects the wipes, throwing them all in a trashcan between the vanities.
"Because she scares me," I answer honestly.
It makes her laugh harder.
"Don't worry," she pats my leg, smiling, "I'll protect you. Besides, she'll love the nickname."
I snatch her hand from my thigh, bring it to my lips, and kiss.
"Let's get out of here."
Nodding, she quickens her clean up routine.
Before we leave the dressing room, Red mentions Big Kam's interest in performing to Liza. He also mentions what Gemma said to me about auditioning. I hadn't even realized he'd been listening to the conversation.
Liza looks both nervous and surprised. Red tells her to just think about it and they'll talk later. Then he tells us good night and kicks us out of the dressing room.
"They're going to have sex in the room where I get dressed," Liza groans.
"Probably," I agree, placing my hand on her lower back.
"I need to add disinfecting wipes to my bag," she sighs.
"Where's Sid?" I ask, scanning the open backstage space.
"I don't…" She pauses and then stiffens. "What did you do?"
Snapping my eyes to Liza, I follow her gaze.
Sid gives a big smile and releases the doorknob she holds, rushing tow
ard us.
"Talk later, walk now," she rambles, rushing by us.
Looking back to Liza, her worried eyes meet mine.
All she says is, "Run, run now," before bolting after her cousin.
Hurrying to keep up with them, a muffled crash comes from behind. Not looking back, I pick up my pace.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Liza
Entering the apartment, I'm still pissed at Sid.
"You can't stay mad at me," she says in a sing-song voice. "You never could."
Brushing by me, she goes straight to her geek station.
"This time I will." It sounds pouty and I know it, but I don't care. "But, maybe I'll forgive you if you tell me what exactly you did."
"I didn't do anything," she says, her response too quick and innocent.
"I don't believe you." I'm going for mean, but it sounds shrill.
Damn it
"I don't want to know," Jackson says, walking to the couch.
He pulls off his t-shirt, leaving him in only a wife beater and black pants, before sitting on the sofa.
"Good idea," Sid says to her monitor.
"Um, Miss Campbell?"
Julia appears next to me, a look of nervousness on her face.
Good.
"Yes?" It's hard not to give her a bitch face.
"I just wanted to let you know Luke and Sean ate pizza, went swimming, played video games for only an hour, and were in bed by ten. So, they should be well rested for their soccer game tomorrow."
Fuck, the soccer game. It's their last game for the year and I forgot.
"Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?" Julia's eyes widen with worry.
I shake my head and swallow my pride.
"No. I'm okay. The game slipped my mind."
Taking a deep breath, I exhale and tamper down my bitch mode.
"Thank you for taking care of them tonight."
"It's no problem at all," Julia assures. "Is there something I can do to help with tomorrow?"
"No, but thank you." Smiling small, I nod and begin to walk away.
"I'm sorry," she blurts.
I turn on my heel.
"For what?" I ask, furrowing my brow.
"That I didn't listen to you and do the right thing."
Crossing my arms over my chest, I nod slowly. I feel both Jackson and Sid's eyes on me, waiting for my reaction.
"The one you need to apologize to is over there." I thumb over my shoulder toward Jackson. "He's the one who could've died."
Rounding and looking at Jackson, I say, "I'm going to shower and then bed."
I heft my bag on my shoulder and step into the hallway.
"As long as you make sure you're climbing into the right bed," Jackson calls after me.
Sid's giggle follows.
Rejuvenated by a long shower, I dig through dresser drawers. Slipping into a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top, I bend back down to get clothes for tomorrow.
"The pajamas are futile," Jackson says.
Looking over my shoulder, I watch him breeze in from the balcony door. His attention is on my ass, but under the weight of my stare, his eyes find mine. Knowing he's busted ogling, he grins.
Stepping close, his hands come to my hips and I straighten.
"What are you doing?" he asks, glancing over my shoulder into the open drawer of simple cotton underwear.
Reaching out, he lifts one pair in front of us, the white cotton dangling from his long finger.
I snag the underwear out of his hand, and say, "I wear thongs made of glitter and itchy lace panties at work. All under stage lights that feel like heat lamps. I prefer comfort at home."
His chest vibrates against my back. On a laugh, he says, "I didn't say anything."
Before I can reply, he continues, "In fact, I don't care what underwear you prefer." He puts his arms around my waist, his hands on my stomach, and pulls me to him. "If we're alone, they aren't staying on long anyway."
In a rare bold moment, I respond, "Good, since half the time I'm not wearing any at all."
I push the drawer closed and his arms tighten around my middle.
"Commando." It's not a question. "Right now?" His hands slip low.
"I prefer not to sleep with them on."
"Funny, we share the same preference," he quips, bending and lifting me into his arms bridal style.
"What are you doing?" I squeal, gripping his shoulders.
Striding out to the balcony, he carries me to his dimly lit room.
"Just making sure you climb into the right bed."
He lays me on the bed, grabs my shorts, and pulls them off. I fist the bedding so I don’t slip down the mattress.
Tossing the light gray shorts to the floor, he says, "And that's because I want you to be comfortable."
Jackson pulls his wife beater over his head and tosses it to meet my shorts on the floor. He shoves his black pants and boxer briefs down before kneeling on the bed and crawling over me.
Glancing at the side table, I find the clock.
2:49 a.m.
"I have to be up early tomorrow," I remind.
His fingers slip under the hem of my light purple tank and strip it over my head.
Pressing a quick kiss to my nose, he tosses the shirt and settles in on my left.
"I know."
Draping one arm over my stomach and folding the other under his head, he snuggles in tight.
"Shh, I'm trying to sleep," he finishes, nestling his face into my damp hair.
Unable to hold it back, I laugh. He joins.
After a minute or so, he rolls to his back, pulling me with him. I cuddle into the crook of his right arm, place my hand on his bare chest, crook my leg over his, and close my eyes.
"I do want to ask you something."
I reopen my eyes at his words.
"What?" I ask, shifting my head to look at his face.
Exhaling loudly, he begins.
"I realized something tonight."
Every muscle in my body stills.
"I've been a little obsessive about some things and I don't want you to feel forced into anything." He tilts his head down and looks at me. "What do you want, Liza?"
His eyes search mine, worry lining their edges.
"I agree. You've been…a bit controlling."
The muscles under my hand tense. I rub his chest, trying to soothe him.
"But I could leave, if I really wanted to." The truth sends a flush over my body.
His arm tightens around me.
"Tell me what you want?" he asks again.
Draping my arm over his stomach, I snuggle into his side. It's an attempt to get closer, but also hide my face.
"I want Lucas to be happy and safe, Sean's custody to be finalized, for Kel to go to college, and Sid to stay out of federal prison." I say the last with a smile.
His chest moves in silent laughter.
"After tonight, I'm not sure she's capable of evading conviction."
Jackson's lips press against the top of my head and he wraps both of his warm arms around me.
"And…" I continue with my list of wants, "as crazy as this may sound, I think I want you."
His arms tighten.
"Fuck, Liza, I want you so much."
Gripping under my arms, he pulls me up until we are chest to chest. My legs fall on each side of his body and I curl my feet under him. Jackson's hands slip down my back until he cups my ass, our faces only inches apart.
"Stay here with me," he whispers.
Dropping my eyes to his mouth, I answer, "It's too fast."
He licks his bottom lip before responding, "Yeah, it's fast, but it's right."
I pull my eyes from his lips and meet his gaze.
"And you know it is." He squeezes my butt.
"This place is too much and Lucas' school is—”
"It doesn't have to be here. I'll have Julia research places. It can be a house if you want. And how about we let Lucas, Sean, and Kel decide, for
themselves, where we live?"
"It's only been a few weeks, Jackson," I sigh, laying my head on his chest. "This is a lot to decide."
"Then just think about it. We'll stay here for another week and see how things play out. I know you've got shit going on with Sean and we'll take of it. I'll make sure everything's cool on that end. Don't worry about it, yeah?"
His thumbs rub circles against the bare skin of my ass, causing goose bumps to appear.
"Okay," I answer quietly.
"Okay," he mimics, bringing his arms back around to embrace me.
The morning is a blur of soccer uniforms, missing shin guards—which Julia miraculously gets a replacement pair this early in the day—and Jackson.
After last night's talk, he's been completely relaxed and playful—teasing Lucas about brushing his teeth so girls will want to kiss him, which earned him a look of disgust. That is, until Jack mentioned Mia prefers clean white teeth. Then the boy couldn't scrub his mouth fast enough. Jackson also spent almost thirty quiet moments with my brother. Too busy with the boys’ breakfast and getting ready, I wasn't able to find out what their conversation was about. I only know it ended with Jackson patting a hand on Kel's shoulder. Sid didn’t emerge until we were heading out the door.
The ride to the soccer field is longer than usual, given our new location, but not one media person is on the radar. Until we reach the field.
"How did they know about his game?" Sid asks, peering out the tinted window of the car.
"The website," I groan.
"Website?" Jackson asks, brow furrowing in confusion.
"The soccer association has a website and the teams’ schedules are listed on there." I rub my face, taking a deep breath to calm.
"Are they going to film the game?" Lucas asks, sounding a little too excited about it.
The car stops in the parking lot near the fields. The driver exits the car and opens the rear door.
"Let me out first," Jackson orders, pulling Lucas away from the door.
Slipping from the car, the gossip hounds start right in with the questions. I can only hope they don't say something I'd rather my boys not hear.
"Okay," Jackson calls above the crowd. "I know you all want pictures and answers, but this is a soccer game with families and minors. I'll chat with you for a minute if you can keep from disturbing the kids’ games."
