My Once and Future Love

by Carla Krae

  “I wanna watch the bloody game while I tell you what you’re in for. Won’t have time tomorrow.”

  Oh. “Fine.” I used the kitchen sink, dried off with a paper towel, and hurried to catch up with him.

  “Maria gave you the tour?”

  “I surveyed your kingdom, yep.”

  “Same ol’ Beth, always with a quick tongue.”

  Tongues and Jacob brought up inappropriate thoughts in my brain, memories I’d desperately suppressed. He didn’t notice my blush, jogging up the stairs ahead of me.

  Don’t stare at your ex’s ass…

  “How come you put me in the guest house?”

  He paused and turned in the hall to face me. “Would you rather have a smaller room with less privacy?”

  “No…”

  “You need an office as well as a bed to sleep in. That was the best option without remodeling and I don’t have time for that. ‘Sides, runnin’ up the stairs every day will be good for you.”

  Oh, yay. Why couldn’t he have bought the palace with an elevator?

  He walked into his bedroom and shed the jacket, tossing it in the vicinity of the closet. He wore a plain black v-neck tee with a snug fit. Picking up a remote, he aimed it at the ceiling and pressed a button. Television noise suddenly flooded the room and I glanced up.

  The TV was mounted to the ceiling above his bed.

  “Have a seat, pet,” he said, and flopped on the king-size. He placed his hands behind his head and the tee rode up.

  Hello, abs and biceps…yeah, this was a good idea…he was probably showing off on purpose.

  “Beth, you can sit on my bed. You’ve been doing it since you were fourteen.”

  I sat on the edge. “Right. So…besides keeping track of your schedule, what will I be doing?”

  “Oh, come on, my mum could’ve made that shot! Bloody poof!” He glanced at me. “Sorry…duties, right… Well, assisting. I need it, you get it. That’s what all the minions do I’ve seen. There’s an intercom system wired throughout the property, so I’ll buzz, yeah? The PA is the shadow, the extra hand, the extra memory… So, got holiday plans?”

  “W-what, for Christmas? Uh…no. Why?” I hadn’t spent a holiday with my family in three years. Andrew was in Virginia and Dad…well, I sent cards.

  “Because we’re leaving on tour and you’re coming with me.”

  “Tour? Where? Shouldn’t you be at your mother’s on Christmas Day?”

  “Concert tour, on a bus, and I don’t always get the choice. We’re hot, Beth, but we’re not we-control-the-shots hot. The record company says go, we go.” He shrugged. “Album should go platinum with the season, though, so sky’s the limit. Can you handle five blokes in one bus for three months?”

  Me against five rock musicians in a motor-home. Oh, sure, piece of cake. “If I can babysit six-year-old triplets, I think I can handle your band.”

  He chuckled. “They’re good fellows at heart. Just like to have a good time.”

  “Like you.”

  “Like me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Beth.”

  Okay, guess I was dismissed. I stood. “What time?”

  His eyes were back on the game. “Hell, I don’t know. Prob’ly in that phone.”

  Great.

  I said goodnight and left his room. On the walk back to my cottage, my mind buzzed with all the preparations for tomorrow. Obviously, studying the Crackberry was paramount. I needed to make sure my suit wasn’t wrinkled and I had at least one notepad and a couple good pens. I made a list of things to have in my handbag in the morning and stuck it to the refrigerator, hung my pantsuit on the bathroom door, and sat on the sofa with the phone while dinner cooked in the microwave.

  A schedule for tomorrow was right there. Wake Jake at 7:30. Wake him again at 8:00. Make sure he eats something and has coffee in hand. Meeting at 9:00. On and on it went, every hour of his life mapped out. He wasn’t kidding when he said they had control.

  I hoped I didn’t screw this up.

  The next morning when I walked into the house Maria already had the coffee in a travel mug. “This helps him wake up.”

  “Thanks.”

  I knocked on his door and called his name before I opened it, just in case he wasn’t decent. Last I knew, he slept nude. He walked out of the bathroom in boxers, scratching his head and yawning.

  “That for me?” he asked, pointing to the mug.

  “Uh, yeah. The meeting is at nine.”

  “Okay. Let me get dressed.

  I nodded, my brain shut down over the sight of that much yummy skin. He’d filled out nicely at twenty-five, lean but strong.

  “Beth…”

  “Oh. Yeah, sorry, ton on my mind. I’ll go now.” I fled the room, grateful I hadn’t been staring at him.

  Get a grip! It’s not the first time you’ve seen him without a shirt.

  Yeah, but it’s the first time since New Year’s Eve five years ago, the night we—

  Well, get used to it!

  Inner-Beth was right. Jacob was my boss and we wouldn’t be buddies on the job. He was the star, I was the lackey, and I needed to pound that into my brain right quick. This was strictly platonic. Clinical, even.

  He came down the stairs in the same leather jacket from last night, a Ramones tee, and another pair of ripped jeans, these with a hole in only one knee. His short hair stood up in random directions and he hadn’t shaved. Quintessential rock star.

  “Ready, pet?”

  “Are you driving?”

  He held up a set of keys. “Unless you want to.”

  “No, by all means. I don’t know where we’re going.”

  He walked out of the house to the five-car garage and triggered the doors to open. “Hello, lovelies.” Wow. His car collection could buy my father’s house with change to spare. He walked to the Jag I’d seen before. “Like it?”

  “Pretty.”

  Sexy. I’d just clicked my seatbelt in place when he gunned the car out of the garage. It growled and raced toward the gates.

  “Um, Jacob…”

  He grinned and triggered the gates to open just in time to let us through. Silly me, forgetting how crazy he could be behind the wheel. Apparently, it’d only gotten worse now he had fast toys.

  “Oh, God, I can’t watch,” I muttered when we entered L.A. traffic.

  “Can’t learn where the office is with your eyes closed, Beth.”

  “I’d rather not see Death coming, thanks.”

  He laughed and shifted the car into another gear. My heart didn’t stop trying to pound out of my chest until we pulled into the parking structure.

  “You are a mad man.”

  “You were never in any danger, Beth. Think I’d kill off my oldest friend?”

  “There’s a reason why they’re called traffic accidents.”

  He waved off my fears and strutted into the building. I rolled my eyes and followed. It was going to be a long day.

  I took notes on everything.

  That evening, Jacob left to do whatever celebrities do and I had dinner with Maria to discuss his schedule for the rest of the week so she could plan meals.

  The limo was picking us up at nine the next morning, so I knocked on Jacob’s door a little before eight.

  “Jacob.” After a few seconds, I rapped twice again. “Jacob?”

  With no answer, I walked in. He was sleeping on his side facing me, with his face partially pressed into the pillow. I tapped his shoulder.

  “Jacob, wake up.”

  “Mmph.”

  “Your ride will be here in an hour. Come on.”

  “Steven Tyler doesn’t get up before ten,” he grumbled.

  “You’re not in Aerosmith. Now get up!” I pulled the covers off him.

  Oh God. And spun to put my back to his naked body.

  “Shy now, Bethie? Seen it all before.” The bed rustled from him moving. “Touched it, too,” he said in my ear. He moved to the closet.

  I faced the nightstand. “I’m not
touching anything now.”

  “Didn’t ask you to.” He sounded entirely too amused.

  “Don’t you have an alarm clock?”

  “What for? Someone always rings me up.” He walked into the bathroom in a silk robe.

  “No wonder you’re always late. I’m going to program alarms into your phone.”

  “Yeah, yeah…” He shut the door and I heard the shower turn on.

  Rolling my eyes, I left the bedroom.

  ****

  Jacob dropped the robe on the floor and opened the shower door. The water heated instantly, so he stepped under the spray and closed his eyes, sighing at the pleasurable feeling of the water beating down on his shoulders. Reaching for the bottle of soap, he squeezed out a dollop and lathered his chest.

  Cooler air hit his body. The enclosure door had opened and Beth stood before him in her white blouse and slacks. One delicate hand landed on his chest above his heart.

  “I lied. I do want to touch you,” she said.

  He leaned forward to kiss her but she dropped to her knees and took his erection in hand. A moan escaped his lips and he squared his feet, steadying his balance. Her pretty pink lips wrapped around the tip.

  “Oh fuck.” He buried his hand in her soft hair and encouraged her to take more inside.

  It was perfect, and she’d never done this to him before.

  “Beth, I’m gonna--”

  She let go and stood up. Her clothes vanished in seconds. He picked her up, pressed her against the wall, and plunged inside, finally kissing her like he’d wanted to. This was going to be fast and sloppy, but damn if he hadn’t missed shagging her.

  The force of his orgasm made him grab the glass wall to keep his balance. When he opened his eyes, there was no Beth, just his dick in his hand and ejaculate washing down the drain.

  Bloody hell. A little self-love hadn’t left him breathless in years. A few days of Beth back in his life and he was already fantasizing—

  “Oh, not good, Jake…don’t go down this road.”

  She already broke his heart once.

  Cursing at himself for letting her get into his head, he finished washing up, rinsed, and walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist to find a mug of coffee next to his cell on the nightstand. It was prepared just how he liked it and he wondered if Maria made it or Beth remembered. Probably Maria.

  They were rehearsing for the tour again today, so he chose a tee and jeans and his favorite boots, then tossed the kit on the bed, remembering to do his hair. The bathroom mirror was still steamed up, so he wiped it clear with a second towel and smiled at his reflection. No need to shave ‘til gig night.

  “Thirty minutes!” Beth shouted through the bedroom door.

  “Alright!” See? Did well not to marry her, mate—an unrelenting nag.

  Dodged a bullet, there.

  Hair mussed in the did-I-do-it-on-purpose way he preferred, he dried off, spritzed a bit of cologne, and dressed. Downstairs, breakfast was spread out for him and he took his sweet time enjoying every bite.

  Beth checked her watch every two minutes and tapped her foot. She had yet to learn that this world ran on his timetable and it was going to be fun annoying her until it sunk in.

  The limo honked outside just as Jacob wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin, belly full with Maria’s delectable meal. She handed him a travel mug of more coffee.

  “Thank you, love.”

  She smiled, clearing the dishes, and he stood from the table. Beth let out a sigh and started for the door.

  “You’re a rascal, Mr. Lindsey,” Maria said.

  “Nicest thing someone’s called me all week.” Setting his sunglasses in place on his nose, he walked to the door in no great hurry, making Beth hold it open for him.

  The foot was tapping the tile again. He grinned and headed for the car, greeting Marty the chauffeur. The star always got in and out of the limo first, unless he wanted to wave goodbye. Jacob loved the ride of the Town Cars…some of his best sleep in the past year had come from the smooth motion of limousines. With Beth inside sitting across from him, Marty drove toward the gate and onto the street.

  “Why do you need a limo just to go to the rehearsal space?”

  “Company dime, company car. ‘Sides, it’s safer.”

  “Safer?”

  “Paparazzi. So many limos in L.A., they don’t know who is inside unless they follow it from the point of origin.”

  “Were they following us yesterday?”

  He shrugged. “Probably. Don’t look so alarmed. They’ll completely ignore you.”

  “Why? I walk next to you.”

  “Because you’re nobody, Beth, and your look screams assistant.”

  She bristled. “I just dress like a professional.”

  “Exactly, pet. Employees are invisible, except for enormous bodyguards. Any messages for me today?”

  “Nothing you need to handle personally.”

  “Brilliant. All that tedium is such a distraction. Should’ve hired someone like you sooner.”

  She rolled her eyes, but didn’t converse any further. He turned on the radio and stretched his arms across the back of the seat. She clearly thought her position was unnecessary and he should be handling it on his own. He chuckled inwardly. The girl had no idea how hectic his life could be.

  Dress rehearsals were set up in a building big enough for the whole stage and light and sound rigging. Experienced roadies put up the stage in new locations every night in just a few hours. The design was simple for his band—just the rigging with a screen hanging behind the drum kit displaying their videos. Each song had a routine for the lights, and they had the best sound men available, so these last few days were about the band hammering out the order of the set.

  “A lot of cables runnin’ about, so watch where you step, yeah?” he told Beth.

  “Where should I be?”

  “Within earshot and out of the way. Keep me in water bottles.”

  “Okay…where do I get those?”

  “I dunno. Should be an ice chest around somewhere.” He hopped up on stage and greeted Bob with a slap on the back.

  Really, did he have to guide her to everything?

  “Your new assistant looks a little lost,” Bob teased.

  “She’ll catch on.”

  “By Sunday?”

  “It’s a matter of pride to her to excel. I could make her life hell and she won’t admit defeat.”

  A brow arched on his friend’s face. “That the plan?”

  “Nah.” Jacob flipped through the songbook.

  “But she doesn’t know that, does she?”

  “Bob…you think I’d be that mean? I’m hurt.”

  “Bullshit.” He grinned. “I think you enjoy gettin’ under a woman’s skin, that’s what I think, and I know you’re not telling me all of the history between you.”

  “Now who has conspiracy theories.”

  “One of you will tell me, man. I got plenty of time to wear you down.”

  Jacob laughed. “You’re welcome to try, mate. Welcome to try.”

  ****

  That first week was a blur, and I fought off information overload. Now I knew what Maria meant about eating when I could.

  It was Sunday now and I had a little time for myself for a little prudent shopping to flesh out my wardrobe for the trip. He warned me we’d be going to places with snow, but I was limited to one large suitcase. With six people sleeping on the bus, it was going to be crowded.

  We were leaving at night for some insane reason. I triple-checked my gear and prayed I hadn’t forgotten anything, butterflies dancing the rumba in my belly.

  Me, with five men my general age. In close quarters. For three months. I fought off my body’s fourth attempt at a panic attack.

  “Beth! Shake a leg!”

  “Coming!” I tossed my laptop backpack over my shoulder, grabbed the handle of my suitcase, and walked out of the guest house. Jacob shut the door behind me, locking it.
>
  “Ready?”

  “No.”

  He grinned. “Too bad. Car’s waiting out front.”

  “Yeah.”

  He surprised me by taking my suitcase, and led the way. “Been out of Cali in a while?”

  “Nope.”

  “We’ll have to initiate you.”

  “Don’t think I like the sound of that.”

  “Trust me.”

  Famous last words…

  We were the last of the band to arrive. They greeted us all at once; a trait I’d learned was their thing. The bus was accompanied by a caravan of big freight trucks, probably with all the technical equipment. Jacob took his guitar out of the limo and let a minion get the rest of the luggage. So far, I hadn’t seen him let anyone touch that guitar.

  No one paying attention to me, I entered the bus alone. Wow. I’d heard these things were luxurious, but this was like a narrow house on wheels. Shiny.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  I turned. A man in a uniform stood near the door.

  “I’m just looking around. Haven’t been on one of these before.”

  “Ah. Well, this is a customized unit. Normally, this model has twelve bunks, but more space was requested. There’s a kitchen, toilet, shower, and the living room in back converts to a bed.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  “Here she is,” Bob said. He came up the steps and inside.

  “Just getting to know the place.”

  The rest of the band followed Bob. Jacob squeezed past them to come to my side. He guided me to the back.

  “I want you to take this room at night so you’ll have privacy.”

  “I don’t need special treatment--”

  “Beth, put aside the feminist argument for a second and listen. You’re going to want the back bunk. My mates…I love ‘em, but they’re not used to livin’ with girls.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He sighed. “That they’re a little rough around the edges. Especially Aaron. Kid’s wicked talented, but he’s only nineteen. Mikey has the worst gas you can imagine at night, Dylan’s not particularly friendly to strangers, and Bob’s a hard-on lookin’ for a place to happen. You’ve done a bloody great job your first week and I don’t want us to run you off.”

  “Fine…but I’m agreeing under protest.”

  “Noted.” He grinned. “Stash your gear and come forward to take a seat.”