Beale Street Blues

by Angela Kay Austin

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Books by Angela Kay Austin

  Excerpt from Love's Chance

  About Angela Kay Austin

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author's imagination, or they are used fictitiously and are definitely fictionalized. Any trademarks or pictures herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks or pictures used are specifically in a descriptive capacity. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 Bluff City Publishing, L.L.C.

  Edited by Leanore Elliott

  Cover Art by Fiona Jayde Media

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9863137-1-4

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9863137-2-1

  No portion of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form (electronic or printed) or by any means without permission. Please do not participate in piracy or violating the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: Bluff City Publishing, L.L.C., P.O. Box 300934, Memphis, TN 38130

  DEDICATION

  Does starting over mean you've lost? No. It means you've been given the chance for a new chapter. This book is dedicated to everyone who's not afraid to pack the trunk of their car and give it one more try

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This one is for my parents. Without whom I would not have been able to start over again, and again and again.

  PROLOGUE

  The twists and turns of the streets of downtown Memphis drained what little energy Darling Crawford had remaining. She wasn't twenty-one anymore and didn't have the desire or money to party all night long. But, what were her options? Sit at home with her parents and waste another Friday night.

  Finally!

  Before the truck could pull out of its parking spot, she'd begun to swing her car across traffic to the other side of the road. Screw the angry horns, honking; I have out of state tags. If she didn't get this one, she'd have to cough up fifteen dollars to park. And that wasn't going to happen.

  Darling parked and then grabbed her clutch bag from the backseat. With her purse gripped underneath her arm, she strolled down Union. The stories her grandfather and parents told her of the old days and Beale Street flooded her mind as she strolled through the historic neighborhood. Muddy Waters, Memphis Minnie, Louis Armstrong, and B.B. King had all played at the clubs on Beale back in the day. Beale had been through a few transitions since then. When Darling was a child, many of the shops on Beale were closed and boarded up. But now, the streets were lined with trendy shops, restaurants, and clubs.

  AutoZone Park, Memphis' minor league baseball team's stadium, loomed out of the darkness at her. Neon baseballs and bats affixed to its façade lit her path. As she neared Peabody Place, a late addition to the famed Peabody Hotel, she glanced through the plate glass windows at the Memphis elite. Women dripping in sparkly jewels laughed as they chatted with men dressed in expensive suits, instead of boys wearing jeans.

  Thirteen dollars minimum for a glass of wine! Not her idea of a cheap night.

  She kept walking.

  Darling shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she stood waiting on the octogenarian, waving the wand along the length of the back of the young black man in front of her. When it was her turn, she flashed her I.D. and gritted her teeth in an attempt to hold onto the ounce of patience she had left. It never went smoothly and this time was no different.

  The woman asked her to step through the gate and to the side. A younger female security guard asked her to open her bag, after glancing through it, she asked Darling to stretch out her arms. The woman slid her hands along the length of Darling's waist smoothing the cotton of her red dress as she did. Then, she bent and ran her hands along the black boots she wore.

  As the woman finished, Darling turned her attention to the sadness of the harmonica that spilled out of the bar onto Beale Street beckoning to her as it had done so often over the past months. The slow slide of the guitar accompanying the harmonica's wordless pain and sorrow spoke to her broken heart. What could be more appropriate, she thought as she paid her three dollars—she'd forgotten it wasn't free on Fridays. She'd rather join the Elvis junkies, drunken conference attendees, starlet wannabes and lost souls with nowhere to be and no one to be with than strangers in a dark room sipping cheap liquor while they ate saucy spicy barbeque.

  Seated in her normal spot, Darling squeezed her eyes shut to close out the corny flirtations of the velvet-clad singer, and let the sad lyrics of the down-home Delta blues slink across her body and mind. The singer longed for the return of his lover, as she'd wished so many nights for hers. It was stupid, she knew it. He'd abandoned her.

  The beat of the music dragged her body with it. Slowly, her feet tapped and her shoulders swayed. As the singer sang to his mystery lover, she remembered the touch of her own. His mouth against hers. The sensation of his hands to her breasts. The feel of his fingers as he dragged them along the length of her legs.

  How could I still want someone who didn't want a damn thing to do with me?

  She stepped onto the dance floor and allowed the vocalist to sing only to her. Her body followed the baseline of the music. She didn't care what the people watching her thought.

  Her eyes sprang open at the feel of a hand on her arm. Eyes the color of the deepest emeralds asked her permission, wordlessly. She placed her hand on his waist allowing him to pull her closer. A mixture of mandarin and persimmon filled her senses as he tightened his hold. One hand rested on the small of her back, while the other lay on her hip, guiding her to his rhythm.

  Too much time had passed since she'd felt the warmth and strength of a man, especially a man like this one. She glanced up to find him watching.

  His eyes locked on hers and he smiled.

  The confidence in his smile and the warmth of his touch sparked a flame inside her. She couldn't resist reaching up to rake her fingers through the salt and pepper curls at his temple.

  He closed his eyes at the touch of her hand. When he opened them, his gaze was too intense to hold.

  She allowed herself to be lost in the fantasy of the man and the music. But when the music ended, regretfully, they would go to their separate corners.

  "Excuse me," he spoke in a deep male voice with a definite southern accent.

  Damn! His voice rippled through her mind and across her skin, taking over where the dance with her stranger had ended. She opened her eyes to find herself staring into the green eyes of one of the most beautiful men she'd ever seen.

  The gentle smile he wore touched the corners of his eyes tugging them down slightly. "Hi. Am I disturbing you?"

  There it was again…his southern drawl made her want to keep listening to whatever he said next. Yes, you are disturbing me but…don't stop talking. "No."

  "I didn't introduce myself earlier." He extended a hand. "Jaxon."

  The strength of his hand was matched
by its warmth. The simple touch made her want to pull away and hold on at the same time. He belonged at the Peabody with the women adorned in diamonds, not here with her. "Darling."

  He raised an eyebrow at the mention of her name. "Darling. Interesting name." He tempted her with the sound of her name as his eyes took in all of her.

  "Thank my grandmother." She smiled. "I'm lucky it wasn't Sugar or Belle."

  "Or a mix of the two." He laughed. "I think they definitely made the right choice." He sipped from his glass. "You love music?"

  With her glass, she pointed at the singer and his band on stage. "This is one of the best bands I've found in Memphis."

  Jaxon nodded, leaning a little closer. "I come here whenever I'm in Memphis." He flashed a heartbreaking smile that formed those little parentheses along his cheeks.

  She leaned a little closer because she wanted to. "Often?" It didn't matter, but she was curious.

  "Regularly…for work." He looked at her empty glass. "Can I get you a refill?"

  She couldn't keep dipping into her 401K money. He could buy anything he wanted. "Dirty martini," she said, "Thanks." It wouldn't get him anywhere. Maybe another dance, but that's all. If she were a few years younger, maybe she could play the game of one night stand. But, she wasn't trying to be bought with a few drinks and a dance. And that was all she really had to offer him or anybody else.

  An hour later, his easy manner and casual conversation combined with drinks that had been endless since his arrival kept her talking and dancing much longer than she'd originally intended, beating down her desire to leave without him.

  So much about this man reminded her of the one who'd left her.

  "Where are you from?" he asked, the warmth of his breath breezed across her ear, as he leaned closer in an attempt to compete with the music of the live blues band.

  Was it the martinis or did his cologne wrap around her, and pull her in with no hope of her escaping him? Why did she want to? How long had it been since she'd been close to a man that she wanted? She crossed and uncrossed her legs to calm her mind, but it only excited her body more. "Here."

  Jaxon quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah? Where's your Memphis accent?"

  "Never had one." She grabbed the toothpick, spearing the olives in her glass and slid one off. Popping it into her mouth, she closed her eyes and savored the blend of the olive and her vodka. When she opened her eyes, his green gaze stared at her mouth as if he wanted a taste, too. But, not of the olives. And she truly wanted to allow him.

  Something in his gaze changed. He reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Let me show you Memphis."

  Did she really want to leave with him? Could she trust this man? He could be an axe murderer.

  Slowly, his hand moved up and down the length of her back. "Trust me." He smiled. "You'll love it."

  "Okay." Why not? She stood, and he waved down the bartender. Outside of the front entrance, a crush of bodies briefly slowed her exit and he caught up to her.

  With a touch of his hand to her elbow, he guided her through the crowd of drunks and underage teenagers who couldn't enter the clubs along Beale. It was early by Beale Street time, and the crowd created its own party in the streets. The horde waited for whatever opportunity presenting itself as inebriated club hoppers came and went.

  "Where are we going?" she asked. Back to his hotel?

  At the corner of Beale and Second, he flagged down a carriage. Adorned in orange and white lights, maybe in preparation for Halloween, the Cinderella inspired buggy pulled up in front of them. He winked at her as he assisted her into the back of the carriage. He spread a blanket which had been neatly folded in a corner across her lap and draped his arm across her shoulders.

  The fitted sweater dress she wore was all she really needed on an October night in Memphis. But, she snuggled a little closer against his solid chest and pulled the blanket higher on her lap.

  "Downtown Memphis is beautiful at night," he said. "Nashville is where I spend most of my time. It's beautiful, too, but there's something about Memphis." He rubbed his chin against the top of her head.

  "I just moved here from Charlotte," she admitted. "I get lost every time I hop into my car, especially down here with all the one way streets." She laughed. "You don't want to know how many times I've crossed the bridge into Arkansas and had to loop back around."

  "You don't have a GPS?" he asked while he rubbed his hand up and down her right shoulder.

  Darling snuggled a little closer and let the madness of the night take over. "I have an app on my phone, but I don't really go out that often. I never really think to use it."

  She listened as he shared his love for Memphis with her. The carriage driver drove by historic landmarks pointing out things she didn't know about her own hometown.

  When they pulled up to one of the old bars she'd hung out at before, he asked the driver to stop. "Have you been to this place before?" he asked.

  "Sure." They had a monthly free wine event. She'd been a few times. "But, not recently. Why?"

  A slow sexy grin spread across his face. "Did you know it's famous because back in the old days, it used to be a brothel?"

  No, she didn't. Was he hinting at something, finally making his move? "No."

  "They're also famous for their burgers." He winked again. "Are you hungry?"

  She'd been having such a great time, she hadn't thought about eating. Now ,that he'd mentioned it. Her stomach responded.

  He paid the driver, and helped her out of the carriage.

  Inside the restaurant, she sipped at another martini while they waited on burgers and fries. "So, why'd you bring me here? Is this your way of hinting at what you want?"

  "Hinting." He reached over and rubbed his hand along her thigh. "I'm a more direct guy." Jaxon pulled his hand away and combed his fingers through her hair. "If you have a question, you should ask me."

  What was she thinking? This man was too damn beautiful. Her ex was beautiful, too. A beautiful cheat and liar who had no problem spreading that beauty around. This one was probably no different. But, he wasn't her husband and she expected nothing from him at all. She smiled right back at him. "Who are you Jaxon?"

  "That's all you want to know?" he asked.

  "For now." She bit into the burger the waitress sat in front of her.

  "I'm in town for business." He bit into his own burger. After he swallowed, he continued, "My family's business allows me to travel a lot." He stared at her for a moment, and then said, "I'm not married, if that's what you're asking."

  "No, I wasn't asking." But, it was good to know. She had no plans to be similar in any way to the woman who ripped her home apart.

  He wiggled the knot of his tie, loosening it. "Sorry, I thought you might be curious."

  She was right this guy was so out of her league. His family's business. Maybe he could give her a job. On second thought working for a man like him wouldn't be a good idea. She'd never think about anything, but getting him into bed. "You like your business?"

  "It gives me what I need." He drank from his beer, allowing his eyes to roam her body as he leaned back in his chair. "And what about you Miss Darling?"

  "Me?" Separated. Broke. "Moved here from Charlotte. Not sure what's next, yet." And she didn't want to talk about it anymore. "Where are you staying tonight?"

  "Are you asking out of curiosity?" he asked.

  "Is it far?"

  Jaxon leaned near and whispered against her ear, "I'll give you one chance to change your mind." He pulled back and locked his gaze on hers. He waved over the waitress and paid the tab. "I'm staying at the Peabody."

  From the suit he wore, she knew he had money and his choice of hotel confirmed it. There wasn't much more traditional Memphis than The Peabody, Beale Street, and the freaking Mississippi river. All of which he'd shown her tonight. He must be old south. Old Memphis. Full of tradition and expectations.

  When Jaxon closed the door of his hotel room behind them, emboldened by the liquor ra
ging through her blood, Darling released the pent up passion she felt for her southern gentleman stranger. The first man in a long time that made her want to be where she was and about to do what she was about to do.

  She pressed him into the door behind him and touched her lips to his. The softness of his lips against hers increased a hunger inside of her that she'd either forgotten or satiated with liquor and her own talented fingers. But, tonight those fingers slid through his hair pulling his head down to her and still, she needed to crane her neck and stand on her tiptoes to reach him.

  Thick arms tightened around her waist, lifting her from the floor. One hand held her tight to his body, the other traveled down her back to her butt. "Wrap your legs around my waist," he commanded with that damn southern drawl.

  Darling readily obeyed.

  Her butt rested in his hands. Slowly, he lifted her body, and then let it fall, repeatedly. With each motion she could feel the firmness and fullness of him grow—it fed her hunger for him. She reached between them and wrapped her hand around the bulge pressing against her most sensitive skin. He moaned in response to her touch. Hot and thick in her hand, she ached to feel him inside her. Maybe he could help her forget everything. "Where is your bedroom?"

  He motioned to a room on the right.

  She dropped her feet to the floor and dragged him through the suite behind her, now almost desperate with need. Red and blue lights from Beale Street below cut through the darkness of the bedroom. Darling used the weird glow to lead him to the edge of his bed and pushed him onto it.

  Jaxon stripped his suit jacket off and she helped with his shirt. His shoulders were broad—not bodybuilder crazy—but defined. With her fingers, she traced the reflection of the red and blue lights that streaked across his chest. The feel of his warm skin beneath her fingertips further intensified the desire building within her to know everything about him. The need—for him—became more urgent the longer she touched him.

  He stripped his pants away and dropped them on the floor…Waiting.