"I'm guessing that this isn't a social call from either one of you two," Jack said. I raised my eyes to see him leaning his elbows on the table as he glanced between Boots and Turner.
Both men answered at the same time, so the only words I caught were 'speak to you in private'.
Sarge was rinsing and I was stacking the dishwasher with whatever he handed me, and we shared a look at hearing the others speak. I glanced back to see Jack push up, as if to stand, but then stop.
"No. You know what? I don't hide anything from Grams. I don't want to hide anything from Lace and Sarge has probably seen it all since he's been around the block more than a few times. So which one of you wants to chew my ass out first?" Jack asked, his voice not loud just steady. "And, as a reminder, watch your damn cussing."
"Should I make more coffee?" Sarge asked on a stage whisper, bumping my shoulder.
I nodded, not wanting to miss even a second of what was going to be said. I glanced at Grams and saw her staring at Jack with a calm, soft smile. He must have caught it too, because he moved his hand to cover hers.
"I'll go," Boots said before clearing his throat. "We gotta talk about you and Lacey here."
Wait…what? What did I have to do with anything?
"Sorry, Lace, but Jax ain't supposed to have any relationship until he's been sober for a year," he continued.
"Bullshit," Sarge interjected.
"What?" I breathed. The room begin to vibrate with tension.
"It's the rules, Jax," Boots said, dropping his head to where he was drawing invisible circles on the tabletop.
"I've never heard that," Turner said firmly.
"It's bullshit, that's why," Sarge said, wiping his hands on the dishtowel and moving back to the table. I took over the coffee prep in his place. "You tried that same weak-assed crap with me, too, old man. Remember?"
"Well, it's what I was told and what I had to do when I was first coming out of it," Boots shot back, his voice rising both in volume as well as in pitch. "Drunks and druggies need to make sure their shit…er, I mean, stuff…isn't rubbing off on their squeeze."
"Sure, I can see that," Turner said. "However, isn't that if the partner is an enabler? Someone you used to get high or drunk with?"
I saw Sarge plant his feet and cross his arms as he nodded emphatically. Catching Boots' eye, I saw him point a finger at Turner. "He's got the right of it."
"And the left of it," Jack affirmed. "You can tell me until you're blue in the face, Boots, but I'm not going to stop seeing Lacey."
I had moved on to wiping the counters, scrubbing like we'd left egg to dry on them. Except my ears were trained on the table as I shot glances over my shoulder.
"Baby?" I heard Jack's velvet voice call. "C'mere."
I dropped the sponge in the sink and stepped to where he was, wiping my hands on my jeans before rubbing one along his shoulders.
"Are you doing drugs?" he asked silkily, his chin angled up at me as his hand encircled my waist, our eyes catching.
"No, Jack," I confirmed.
"You drink?" he asked again with a twinkle in his eye as his arm squeezed lightly.
"Occasionally," I answered honestly. I raised my eyes and met each of the others as my gaze went around the table. "My mom has drug issues so I have knowledge of living with that monkey. That life is not for me. Nor for anyone I want to be with, a part of, or around."
The room was so quiet you could hear the ticking of the clock and the hum of the old fridge.
"Does that answer it, Boots?" Jack asked finally, his voice kind and his eyes soft. "Because that's all you're gonna get from us on this subject."
"I'm going to have to report…" Boots started.
"James?" Edie interrupted softly, placing her hand on the man next to her.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"There was nothing in Jax's court papers that said he couldn't have a relationship as a condition of his release," she advised. "I don't think they'd much care if Jax was to get a little somethin'-somethin', if you get my drift."
I started blinking at the same time I heard another voice harrumph and a choked sound in a third.
"Damn, Grams," Jack groaned but he was smiling.
"Well said, Ms. Dennison," Sarge rumbled, his lips twitching like he was trying not to laugh.
I couldn't help my eye-roll. Lovely. Now I'm Jack's little bit of something-something, I thought.
After things settled and I'd placed the coffee pot in the center of the table I saw Jack point his finger at Turner.
"Your turn," he said.
"Ah…" Turner started. "This is kind of private, Jax."
Jack swept a glance around the table. "Anybody mind if we lock ourselves in the dining room so Turner here can spill his 'private' crap?"
All of us shook our heads with murmurs of 'no, not at all'.
"Then step this way, Dude," Jack instructed as he led the long-haired giant into the formal dining room, sliding the pocket doors closed.
There was only the murmur of voices through them while Edie kept up a steady stream of chit-chat, asking Boots about his family and about Sarge's sideline job of restoring motorcycles. Pretty soon, though, Jax opened up the dining room and moved quickly back into the kitchen.
"I can't help you, Turner," he shouted over his shoulder, coming quickly to me, his agitation evident. "Told you before, man. I wish I could, but I can't."
Turner followed much more slowly and stood in the center of the kitchen, his face bleak.
"What's the deal, Dude?" Sarge asked, leaning his chair on its two back legs, a study of relaxed confidence.
"Turner needs money," Jack replied, shooting a tense glance back at his old band member.
"Who's got you by the shorts?" Sarge asked Turner, with a chin lift. "Before you answer, let me warn you that I've probably been exactly where you are right now."
"Milosevic," Turner answered, his deep, grumbley voice as low as he could probably make it.
"Ponies or tables?" Sarge asked slowly.
"A little bit of everything," Turner admitted, his eyes on the floor.
"How much?" Boots asked.
"Eighty large," the ginger-haired man answered, his face as red as his hair. "I've gotta have ten by Friday."
"Sheee…" Sarge drawled, but he never finished. He let his chair fall back onto all four legs before he planted an elbow on the table, his eyes unfocused as he thought.
We all waited to see what was next. I felt Jack behind my chair, caressing my hair, my neck.
"You've been outed, right?" Sarge asked Jack, who nodded in reply. "You willing to kick it to get your brother-in-arms clear?"
"Sure," Jax said firmly. "As a one-shot, I can work it."
I had no clue what was going on.
"I'm in, if you need me," Boots added.
"Let me make some calls, see what I can do. Can you stick around a day or two, Turner?" Sarge asked, pulling at his lip ring as he spoke.
"Uhm…" Turner said, his blush going even a deeper shade of red. "I don't have a place…"
"I've got room, so no worries there," Sarge replied. I saw his gaze sweep around the table. "Sanskrit, right? Sorry, I realize we're talking a kind of shorthand but I didn't mean to leave you ladies out of it."
"I think I've got it," I heard Edie pipe up. "Can I try it and see if my take on it is right?"
I was shocked. How could she follow it if I couldn't?
"The chair recognizes Edith Jackson Dennison," Jack quipped as he sat, gesturing at Turner to take a seat. All the guys were smiling as they waited for Edie to speak.
She cleared her throat then looked at each man in turn.
"Okay," she started. "Here's what I got. Turner has been gambling and losing. He went to those nasty Milosevics to borrow against his losses and is now into them for $80,000, of which, they are demanding $10,000 of it be repaid by Friday. How am I doing so far?"
All the guys nodded. Jack made a hand motion for her to continue.
"I'm
guessing, since Turner is so stressed about it, that if he doesn't pay that 10% on Friday then terrible things are going to start happening. Sarge has had dealings like this before and has an idea of how to come up with the money, not just the payment but for the full balance. It, the solution, has to do with music. He asked Jax, since the media already knows he's here, if Jax would be willing to play again. Like a concert or something, right? To help Turner get out of the fix and Jax said yes but only as a one-time thing. Boots here said he could help, too, if need be," she finished and beamed brightly when all four men started clapping.
My jaw dropped. She'd got all that from the few questions and answers which Sarge and Turner had exchanged?
Chocolate ganache.
"I'm not promising anything, you understand, but I'll try. You guys in?" Sarge growled before he shoved his fist towards the center of the table, where it was met by Boots, Turner and Jax's to bump together.
The men moved to the front room to continue their discussion, leaving us gals in the kitchen.
"How'd you know all that?" I whispered, dead impressed by her knowledge and translation.
She shrugged with a shy smile. "I don't know. Maybe because Pete used to talk in 'man-speak', too. You know, the shorthand men use to communicate with other cavemen quickly?"
I nodded because I got it.
"Frankly, I was surprised nobody was grunting, thumping their chest or scratching their balls," she said wryly. "You're lucky he didn't drag you here by your hair, Lace."
I laughed so hard by the time she finished speaking, I started to cough.
Chapter 20
Edie and I were out in the garden, which was still in the shade of the house, pulling weeds, tending to the veggies, when I felt my phone vibrate.
"Hey, Ricks," I answered. "What's up?"
"I couldn't find him," she wailed. "I checked all the hot spots and I mean all, Lace. But, he hasn't been seen. Nobody knows where he is."
"Do you know if the photographers and stuff are still staking out the bakery?" I asked, almost afraid to hear her response.
"Yeah, kiddo. I went by there early-early. You've got the paps working both doors," she replied. "Where are you hiding out anyway?"
"Ah, listen. I need to check something. I'll call you right back, okay?" I answered quickly and saw Edie raise her head to me.
"Sure, Lace," Ricki replied. She sounded confused as well as depressed since she hadn't been able to find the object of her desire last night.
My mind was working overtime as I lowered the phone.
"What's going on, Lace?" Edie asked.
"I need to talk to Jack," I mumbled. "Do you think they'd mind if I interrupted?"
"I don't need to think, I know he'd have no trouble with you grabbing him out of the strategy session," she said firmly, trying to push herself up.
I moved to help her and brushed off her knees as she rose. I could feel the heat of her skin even through the fabric. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, honey," she said, looking down at me as I continued to palm one of her knees. "Just old age."
I didn't buy it and found myself wondering what else she was dealing with besides her heart issues. I held on to her as we moved to the steps leading up to the porch. When we stepped inside, I spied an old recliner tucked away from the other pieces of cast-off furniture placed here and there around the screened-in area.
"How about I get you an ice tea, your e-reader then you stretch out in the recliner there?" I asked mildly.
She gazed up at me. "Thank you, sweetie. That's sounds really good."
I got her settled before going to the living room.
"Hey, guys," I said, knowing I was interrupting yet needing to anyway. "Can I borrow Jack for a time?"
His eyes met mine and I saw his eyebrows shoot upward as he stood.
"What's up, Baby?" he asked as he met me in the doorway.
"Uhm, can we go upstairs?" I asked, gazing up at him.
In just the few minutes we'd been apart, I was again taken aback by how stunning he was, how his eyes glowed when he saw me.
We sat on the end of his bed before he pulled me against him.
"First, we need to talk about Grams," I said, turning my head so my forehead was against his neck. "She seems weaker today somehow. When I was helping her back into the house, her knees felt hot and swollen."
"Oh, shit," Jack said quietly. "How bad is it? Should we go to the hospital?"
"I don't think so. At least, not yet. I'll keep an eye on her but I've got her in the recliner on the back porch."
"Watch over her, Lace, please?" he asked tightly. I could tell he was worried.
"Of course," I agreed. "Secondly, we've got to talk about me going home."
He didn't say anything as he leaned back enough so he could see my face.
"I don't want you to go home," he said firmly.
"Jack, I need clothes and I have things I have to…" I began.
"We can get your things. Sarge can take care of anything you need to get done. In fact, we were talking earlier and he suggested the bakery close for a week. You know, just until things die down a little."
I felt my hackles rise before I pulled myself completely away from him.
"That takes a lot of nerve," I ground out as I stood.
"What?" he asked, confused.
"Telling me I need to close my business for a week," I snapped in reply.
"I was suggesting, Lace, not telling," he said softly, but he was eyeing me like I was something dangerous. Truthfully, I think I was.
I heard him sigh.
"I got you into this but I'm not sure how to get you out," he admitted. "I just want you to be safe and I want you here. With me. With Grams. Is that too much to ask?"
His face was a study of earnestness.
So I did what any other level-headed girl would do when the man of her dreams asked to take care of her.
I caved.
"If I stay here, I'll need some stuff from my place. I wanted to ask you if I could get Ricki to do it, could she bring me the things I need to the farmhouse?" I said on a softer note. Sure, the adrenaline was still coursing through me at our almost fight, yet I needed to cool my jets.
"That's your girl, right? The one that is trying to find me?" he asked.
I nodded in reply.
He stared at me and I realized he was thinking it through. Knowing what I knew of him, of what I was coming to know of how he thought, I realized his mind was probably on how this would affect either me or Edie.
"Okay. But you've gotta handle your girl. If the situation becomes uncool in any way, then I'm gonna shut it down, Lace. Understand?"
I just continued to look at him, mentally seeing him pull at his crotch and spit with his pronouncement.
"Understand?" he repeated, the slight crease between his eyebrows making an appearance.
"I was just wondering if you wanted me to salute when I replied in the affirmative," I said, it must be noted, sarcastically.
"A simple kiss will do, Baby," he advised as he stood and lunged for my mouth, wrapping me tightly in his arms. I felt one hand grip my ass while I mentally rolled my eyes as the heat began to build between us.
One kiss and I was a goner.
Oh, what the hell.
A girl needs to choose her battles. Besides, I liked his way of circumventing a fight.
He raised his head, yet didn't loosen his grip as he advised, "If she can get here within the next couple of hours, she'll be able to meet Turner, too."
I reached for my phone the moment his arms released me and heard his chuckle as he made his way downstairs.
He's just too hot for his own good, I thought as my thumb scrolled through my contact list to call Ricki back.
*.*.*.*.*
Jax detoured on his way downstairs to check on Grams on the porch.
She was sleeping, but since her book was still displayed on the screen, she had only nodded off. He pressed his hand lightly on the stretchy fa
bric that covered her knee and felt what Lacey had described.
It was hot and felt swollen.
Christ!
His hand went to the back of his neck as he thought quickly.
"Jax?" she mumbled and his eyes moved to her beautiful, faded blue ones. He dropped into a crouch next to the worn chair.
"Hey, old woman. How you doing?" he asked gently, his hand capturing one of hers.
"Okay. I think I ate too much. I'm just so sleepy," she replied slowly.
"Lacey is on her way back down. She's going to have her girl bring her some of her clothes and things if that's okay. I think it'd be better if she stayed, if it's alright with you."
"I'd love it," she said. "She's so good for us, isn't she?"
Jax felt his heart fill again just thinking about Lace.
"Yeah, Grams, she is," he replied, his heart doing it's double thump. "I'll just be in the front room with the boys. Let me know if you need anything."
"Love you, Hot Stuff," she said. He watched her eyes close as she turned her head, wiggling to make herself more comfortable.
"Love you more, old woman," he replied, stretching and placing a kiss on her forehead.
His girl was standing in the doorway when he stood up. He did a chin lift as he pushed her back into the far side of the kitchen so as not to be overheard.
"Baby, I think we need to keep her under surveillance, okay?" he asked slowly. It was a lot, he knew, asking his new love to help take care of his Grams.
"Agreed. Do you know of anything I can do to make her more comfortable?" she asked. "Maybe I can search the internet to see how to help?"
"Good idea," he replied. "When's your girl coming?"
"Maybe half an hour."
"Okay. That gives time for Grams to sleep and me a chance to help plan with my boys before the 'squealer' gets here," he said on a thoughtful note.
"Squealer?" she asked.
"You know. One of those people that squeals and yells at concerts? That's what we called them," he said with a smile. "Some groups like them. We always considered them a step down from a groupie, or what is also known as a GiM…a groupie in making."
Lacey's eyes rolled at his words. "I, sir, was a squealer. I thought all you big Rock people liked that kind of stuff."
"Of course we do," he said with a snort. "It's what we always wanted to have drowning out the music we're trying to play."
Everybody Falls Page 17
