9781631056314TattooedHeartsJolieNC

by Mika Jolie

  “Thanks, Jay!” Claire and Jason hugged before he walked off the stage and gave her the full spotlight. She turned to the jubilant crowd and let out a little laugh. The sound was sweet and joyful. It echoed through the room and into everyone’s heart. “What a welcome. A big thank you to Tyler for asking me to do this.”

  The audience cheered, as if they were forever grateful to Tyler for bestowing such a gift upon them. Forrest told himself Tyler had nothing on him when it came to Claire.

  “It’s so good to be here. I have no words.” Her right hand went to her heart. She closed her eyes for a second, taking it all in. A spontaneous outpouring of emotion etched on her face. She looked happy.

  The sight made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Overwhelmed with emotion, he stood rooted to the spot and took in Claire, the famous singer.

  “As some of you may know, I have this thing for eighties and nineties music.”

  Whooping and hollering followed.

  She laughed.

  The sound was so sweet.

  “My last album was a nod to those two decades. I’m going to do a few numbers for you tonight.”

  She was forced to pause again by another round of clapping.

  She raised her index finger and leaned into the microphone. The room went still. “And give you a glimpse of the theme song for my movie Tattooed Hearts coming out this summer. It’s still rough.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I love it and would love to share it with you all.”

  They waved and shouted like maniacs.

  “It will have to be acoustic though, just me and a guitar,” she continued. “Think you can handle that?”

  Another massive round of applause. They were hungry for excitement and were putty in her hands, him included. She had this quality about her that mesmerized people. Even during their youth, she hadn’t been aware of it, but it had always been there. Now a woman filled with confidence, it was more transparent. From the way she kissed him after reading Luc’s letter, to how she gave all of herself to him in every way.

  “Watch this,” Blake said to him. “You’re going to fall in love.”

  Too late. Already there, neck-deep in love.

  Her fingers wrapped around the microphone, a smile appeared on her lips and then she started belting out the lyrics to Hopeless by Dionne Farris. Her voice was smooth, clear, quiet yet powerful as she sang each word. It carried a level of sadness, a longing, drugging everyone. She sang her own cover of Iris by Goo Goo Dolls, Don’t You Forget About Me by Simple Minds, and Ordinary Love by Sade. All without a crack or flaw. Then she brought Amber on stage as promised and they sang I Feel for You by Chaka Khan and two of her own songs. The tempo to those songs was a bit more upbeat. An excitement rushed through the room, like liquid adrenaline being injected right into everyone’s bloodstream–not strong enough to freak them out, but an adequate amount to make them feel the vibe of the music and let their body go free.

  When Claire requested, they joined in the fun and sang along. The few faces Forrest was able to see grinned like idiots. They sang a few of their favorite lines completely out of tune but in joyful harmony. No one cared how they sounded, they were happy. And so was Claire.

  She laughed, moved rhythmically to the music and played along. She looked pumped, excited, and more alive than he’d ever seen her.

  It was as if all the mundane worries of her life had been muted and all there was to know about was…this moment. No worrying about the past, no anxiety about the future. Eyes wide, grin wider, in one adrenaline-fueled warrior yell, she jumped off the stage into the crowd.

  Forrest’s body automatically moved in the direction of the stage, his brain fast forwarded to protective mode, needed to be sure she would not be crushed. But Jason grabbed his shoulder and held him still.

  “She’s fine. This is what she does. This is who she is. Relax.”

  She gave herself to the crowd and the crowd gave back to her. Forrest took it all in.

  It was magical. One moment, one brilliant feeling of togetherness between Claire and her fans suspended in time. Ten years or a lifetime from now, he’d remember tonight and the way she looked in her element. It was a circuit of energy–music, friends, good times, dance.

  This side of her didn’t belong on the island.

  “All right! Are we having fun?” she asked the pumped crowd. Her voice pulled Forrest’s attention back to the stage.

  “Claire! Claire! Claire!” They roared.

  “I love you!” Someone declared.

  “Have my baby!” Another one proposed.

  Claire laughed. “We’re going to take a quick ten. Be right back.”

  Adam, the asshole that he’d always been, leaned into him and said, “They want your girl. You better do something about it.”

  The fucker. “Shut up,” he replied without a glance at his friend.

  Adam laughed, clearly enjoying his distress.

  During the intermission, Jason managed to join them. He took one look at Forrest and shook his head. “Still got a stick up your ass?”

  “Probably forever,” he responded. No point in lying. His mind was still surging with perplexity. But his friendship with Jason should have never been tested…on his part. Anger was a powerful tool. “Congrats on the babies,” he offered, man-code for saying I’m sorry, I’ve been a dick.

  Jason nodded, seeming to accept the apology. “Ready to play uncle?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Not from where I’m looking.”

  “Then I’m ready.” They stared at each other for a second or two, neither willing to put their Alpha card away. “How’s Minka?” he asked, initiating a conversation, silently folding. Since he’d been the asshole, it was only right.

  “Nauseous.”

  “That will pass in a month or two.”

  Jason shoved a hand through his hair. “You should tell her that.”

  “Ah, the wolf pack all together again.”

  All heads turned to Claire. She was still smiling and so fucking beautiful that Forrest pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When he finally let her go, she let out one of her little laughs and touched her lips.

  “Claiming her?” That came from Adam.

  Since Adam’s favorite display of affection was to give one of them the finger, Forrest flipped him the bird. “You’re awesome live.” He pulled her in and hugged her, pressing his jaw to the top of her head.

  “Thanks. I have to go back for the big finale.” She tiptoed in for a kiss. “I love you, Doc.” The words slipped out of her mouth as a whisper.

  He opened his mouth to reciprocate, but he tensed. A ball slammed against his chest. To feel and know you love someone is one thing. To give it life and utter the words was another. Especially after realizing there was a whole side of Claire Peters that neither of them had brought up. Like the elephant in the room–an obvious truth they’d shimmied around and ignored.

  She was leaving.

  She was a star.

  She belonged on the road.

  She was temporary.

  The realization sank deep in his hollow gut.

  His lungs screamed for air. Shock registered on her face, and then she kissed him again and gave him air before slipping back into the throng of people waiting to touch Claire Peters, the one that belonged to the world.

  Blake gave him a shove, snapping him back to reality.

  “What was that for?”

  Blake chuckled. “You look like a lost puppy. Man up.”

  “Fuck off. All of you.” Not in the mood to deal with his friends’ shit, he slid them a look then squared his shoulders a little more to keep them at bay. After they choked out a low laugh, they retreated and refocused their attention on the woman responsible for all of his angst.

  Somehow she managed to make her way through the crowd and back to the stage. One of the musicians handed her a guitar. Even before she spoke, everyone went quiet, as if they knew what was coming next.

  “Yo
u see, I came back to the Vineyard for two reasons.” She addressed the starving spectators. “One was because I couldn't write this song to save my life. My creativity well was dry. And the other…” She exhaled.

  Forrest could see her eyes searching for him. When their gazes entwined, she smiled. A smile just for him. His heart swelled. His friends, brother included, chuckled.

  “The other…” She broke their connection and dragged her attention away and focused on her fans. “Well…” She smiled again. “Love is a funny thing. Wouldn’t you say?” His heart pounded fiercely in his chest. She sat on a stool and grabbed the guitar. The musicians faded in the background. “Ladies and gentlemen, Tattooed Hearts.”

  The lights dimmed for the second time in the night, and a bright spotlight was put on her face. Smoke danced in the bottom of the floor to the stage, tricking the eyes to believe she was nothing but a shadowy figure. Like everyone one in the room, Forrest stood still in an altered state of consciousness.

  She inhaled deeply, savoring the moment, and started to sing.

  In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything,

  And two minus one equals nothing.

  Front and center was Claire’s primal voice. A mixture of soul and blues, it was dark, guttural, and romantic.

  It is a cruelty of life that a heart can keep on beating even after it has been

  broken in two.

  Her voice trailed…weak and defenseless. Her fingers moved along the strings and produced a sweet refrain that spoke a musical language to the soul. Forrest stood a little straighter, her words flowing through him.

  It can feel as though it is being gripped in an ice-cold vise,

  and ache as if it will implode in your chest,

  but still the boom-boom continues.

  The strumming sound had a hypnotic soothing quality that Forrest craved.

  I never said what I wanted to say, but I fell for you harder than a slip on

  black ice.

  I wish I could turn the clock,

  I would have never left and would have loved you longer.

  It was always you…Can’t fight these feelings for you.

  I came back for you,

  She looked emotionally wounded. Her voice turned from delicate to fierce in an instant. Dark and painful. It sent goosebumps down his spine.

  I opened my mouth…nervous about what would come out,

  But then I saw your face and all of my worries escaped me…because…

  Well…your name is tattooed in my heart.

  Her voice carried around the room in waves, feathery as she sang the lyrics. Each word framed in vulnerability but strong, at the same time. There were no victims in the song. It was a metaphor for first love, in all its intensities.

  When she stopped singing, there was a brief silence, like an indrawn breath, as if everyone could still hear the last vocal her lips touched. Then there was a massive round of applause, praising and raising the roof a few inches.

  “Looks like you’re seeing Claire for the first time.” Jason patted him on the back then headed back to the stage.

  Once there, Jason pulled Claire into a bear hug, a proud smile on his face. The sight did something to Forrest’s heart. Not out of jealousy or envy, but admiration of the depth of their friendship.

  “Isn’t she awesome?” Jason asked into the microphone when he finally stepped away from Claire. A rhetorical question of course, but the spectators hailed their approval.

  “And a big thank you to Amber for helping us rock the house,” Claire added, a reminder she had a special guest. “I convinced Jay and Adam to give me a few minutes to sign autographs, take pictures and all of that stuff. So come on over, but don’t trample me. I have a big bodyguard in the back of the room. Right, Forrest?”

  She called him out, which had his heart go into a funny little beat in his chest. Her minions turned, followed her gaze and appraised him. Even the fuckers he’d known all of his life seemed to be pondering if he was good enough for their Claire.

  It took longer than Forrest anticipated to exit Vapor. Everyone wanted a piece of the woman he couldn’t wait to get in his bed, under him, on top of him. Whatever—he desperately needed to touch and kiss every inch of her. Maybe it was because a part of him tonight felt her slipping away once more, only this time she wasn’t running. She had become so much more than the girl he fell in love with eons ago.

  Hands weaved together, they made their way to his Jeep. Camera flashes popped from every angle, almost blinding him. Questions were thrown at them.

  Is this your boyfriend, Claire?

  Are you Mr. Peters?

  Is it true the two of you are getting married soon?

  A close source said you’re pregnant. How far along are you?

  She felt small around him, but not from fear or vulnerability. Quite the opposite, she seemed in total control. He squeezed her hand, more so for his own reassurance, and opened the door for her. They drove in silence. Her head thrown back, eyes closed.

  “You were great tonight,” he said, much more mildly than he felt.

  In his peripheral, he caught her turn to face him. Taking his eyes off the road for a second, he allowed himself to drink her beauty. She took one of his hands and pressed her face into it. “Do you ever wish you could freeze a moment?”

  Them. Forever. Forrest clenched his jaw. “Yes.”

  “What’s yours?”

  He had so many, most of them involved her. “Tonight, watching you perform.”

  “Having you there made it special. You made me high.”

  She closed her eyes again. She appeared content, at peace. Something buzzed. From the corner of his eye, he watched her fumble through her tiny purse and pull out her phone. A little gasp escaped her lips.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I need to go back to L.A.”

  He glanced at her pinched brow. A heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach. This was ridiculous. He knew she eventually had to leave. “When?”

  “Tomorrow. As soon as I can,” she whispered.

  He nodded. He understood. She was temporary. He knew that all along.

  “I’m getting a humanitarian award,” she explained. “I need to be there.”

  He nodded again.

  “Forrest.”

  A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of his right eye. “Claire.”

  “Come with me.”

  The sound of her voice, almost pleading, made his heart squeeze hard. He glanced at her for a quick second. “What?”

  She shifted her body so that she was looking at him. “I have to attend this event. I can’t skip this. Just for the weekend. We go tomorrow and return Sunday night.” She let out a deep breath. “Come with me. I’m not ready to let you go.”

  “The weekend,” he said, mentally giving consideration to her invitation. What could go wrong with spending a night in her world? Of course, this would only delay the inevitable. But his heart, locked up for so long, now high on Claire wanted a little more.

  “Yes.”

  Emotions tugged at his heartstrings. A little voice told him to bolt, to run, to get the fuck away. They had an expiration date and this trip might be it. Instead, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “All right. I’ll get a ticket when I get home.”

  “No need. I’ll have my assistant arrange everything. Thank you.”

  He peered at her again. A faint smile touched her lips. She looked relieved as her fingers texted away. So was he, at least for now because with a grim sinking feeling in his gut, he also wasn’t ready to let her go.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.”

  Anonymous

  Claire stepped inside the chic lounge. And just like that, she was back to the life she walked away from a month ago. It felt strange being here after so long, as if she no longer belonged in the city of dreams, the City of Angels. A city blessed and cursed with a glorious dr
eam and façade of hopes.

  Her place of residence for the last six years.

  While she liked living here, she hadn’t missed it. Thoughts of her life here surfaced once or twice, but nothing that sent her spiraling or wishing she’d been here instead of the Vineyard with friends, family, but most of all with the man standing quietly by her side.

  She glanced at Forrest. His face revealed nothing. If ever there was such a thing as a fairy godmother, she’d wish for the ability to penetrate his thoughts. Maybe obtain the superpowers of Jean Gray or Professor X just so she could get a peek of his mind.

  Dressed in dark denims, a white button down, and a navy blue blazer, he appeared relax and in total control. But she knew he was taking in every detail of the environment. The luxury four-story apartment house was the epitome of L.A. living. The Wetherly House featured stunning interiors with sophisticated open spaces and clean contemporary lines, theme-centric artwork everywhere. The sixty-five exclusive residences were complimented by stunning views to L.A. Basin, close access to trendy hot spots when one wanted to see or be seen. The building was living elevated to an art.

  “Ready?” she asked. The question wasn’t particularly addressed to Forrest. If anything, it was an attempt to break the silence between them.

  “Let’s go.” He offered her the typical Forrest smile, captured her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze.

  They headed to the concierge to retrieve her mail. On most days, she blended well with everyone. The complex was small, private, and other well-established entertainers either lived there permanently or kept a temporary place for when they were in L.A. But today, a few glances, from men and women, lingered longer than necessary. When they pulled away, it was with obvious reluctance, especially the women. Not that she blamed them. For as long as she could remember Forrest always attracted attention. Why should today be any different?