Skipped a Beat

by Salsbury, JB

  “Hey, babe. Where are your shoes?”

  I watch her throat contract with a tiny swallow. “I gave them to a boy who didn’t have any.”

  The corner of my mouth ticks up. “That was sweet.”

  She turns to look at the older woman who nods her head in permission. Jade peels off her gloves and tosses them in the trash, then comes closer to me but not close enough for me to touch. “I know what you’re thinking, okay? I just went for a run, and when I stumbled across all these people lined up in the streets, I couldn’t walk away.”

  “And what is it you think I’m thinking, Jade?” How could she possibly believe I’d be mad about any of this? What kind of assholes is she used to?

  “That I’m impulsive and stubborn and that you guys are busy working but now you’re here and they put Max to work but he works for you guys. I can just imagine how pissed Jesse is, and I don’t mean to bite the hand that feeds me, but all this…” She swings her arm around, motioning to the room. “This was me only weeks ago, and underneath all these expensive clothes, this is still me, and—”

  “Jade.” I step toward her and wrap my arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her hair-netted forehead. “What I think is that you’re an incredible woman. You’re stubborn, yes. But what better person to fight for the voiceless than a person as headstrong as you?”

  “Really?”

  I laugh at the sheer disbelief in her voice. “I know this makes me a selfish prick, but what I love most about all this is that you’ve let me in on a huge part of yourself without even knowing it. Since I’ve known you, you’ve been living in my world. This is the first time I’ve been gifted the opportunity to live in yours.”

  “And you like what you see?” Her eyes shine with vulnerability.

  “You’ve never been more beautiful to me.”

  Pink paints her cheeks. “It’s the hairnet, right?”

  I nod. “And the shower-cap shoes, and watching you manipulate meat is pretty hot.”

  She presses her cheek into my chest, wrapping her arms tightly around me. “Thank you.”

  I rub her back. “How much money did you get from Max?”

  “Three-hundred and sixty-five. That’s why we’re making more meatballs.”

  “You keep up on that, and I’ll go see how much more I can collect, all right?”

  “Wait.” She peers up at me. “Are you serious?”

  “I’ll be back.” I risk getting caught up in her kiss by pressing my lips to hers, and when the woman Jade was working with howls an “Oh Lawd have mercy!” we laugh and break apart.

  I head back out into the cafeteria and see Ethan at work handing out plastic cutlery, and Chris is manning the garbage cans. Bethany is sitting at a table with a gray-haired man’s hands in hers, her head lowered in prayer while tears stream down the man’s face, and Jesse quietly sits back watching his woman as she seems to touch the depths of the man’s soul with her genuine concern.

  An idea hits me out of nowhere. I find Jesse and run the idea by him, and we hunt down Ty and tell him what we need.

  “Are you sure? Brent’s going to shit his pants when he finds out.”

  I shrug. “He won’t find out until it’s too late to stop us. By then, if he stops us, he’ll create a PR nightmare for Arenfield.”

  Ty seems satisfied with that and picks up his phone to make the calls that’ll put my plan in action. Meanwhile, I search for the director of the shelter and hope like hell they’re game.

  Jade

  The shelter had a steady stream of hungry people for four straight hours. Once we realized we had enough food to keep serving, other shelters sent their overflow to us. We were intent not to send a single person away, our motto being no one goes to sleep hungry tonight.

  I’m exhausted, and my back is sore from standing at a table making meatballs and then washing dirty chafing dishes all night.

  Ryder came back to the kitchen after leaving with the promise to collect more money and helped me dry and put away the dishes.

  “I got that,” he says as he relieves my hands of a stack of heavy serving trays. He shelves them just over my head.

  Finished serving food, I pull the hairnet off and shake out my hair, my scalp a little sweat soaked from the hard work and hot water. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done tonight.” The words feel stale from my lips, inadequate in communicating my appreciation.

  “It’s not over yet.” He snags my hand, and I laugh as he drags me to the kitchen door. The plastic crunch of my shower cap shoes calls his eyes. “Oh, but first.” He heads to the corner of the kitchen where there’s a big box with UGGS printed on the top. “For your feet.”

  I stare at him. “I can’t accept those. I’m sorry. Not with all those people out there who hardly remember what it felt like to have warm feet.”

  “Those people?” He points to the closed kitchen door. “Out there?”

  I roll my eyes at his weirdness. “No, the ones on planet Zorg. Yes, Ryder, the ones—”

  He kicks the swinging door open and puts up a hand to keep it there. Jerking his head, he motions for me to come out and—

  “Oh my shit…” I mumble.

  There are shoeboxes everywhere. “UGGS, Merrell, Nike, Reebok.” Not only are there shoeboxes, but warm jackets are draped over every available space along with about one hundred more people. “How did this happen?”

  “We called the radio station and had Jesse put out an impromptu invitation to a small acoustic show taking place here, tonight. Admission is a brand new pair of shoes and a warm jacket. Some of the local department stores and outdoor places got wind of it, and here we are.”

  “And you pulled all this off while I was elbow deep in ground beef.”

  “Yes. So put on your donated boots so I don’t have to worry about your feet being cold, and let’s find you an up-front seat for the show.”

  I rip the shower caps off my feet and groan when I slide them into the sheepskin boots. Ryder ushers me around the crowd where homeless men, women, and kids are intermixed with the wealthy who donated in order to be here. There’s a clearing in the room with four chairs and a small drum set made up of a big bass drum, a snare, one symbol, and two toms. Ryder drags a folding chair to his drum set and leads me to it. “Front row for our Good Samaritan.”

  “It makes me uncomfortable that you think this is all because of me. It’s not.”

  He lifts his eyebrows. “No? Then who is responsible for all this?”

  “You guys! You’re so generous, and I mean look what you’ve all done for me. If I have any responsibility in this, it’s only because I took what you gave me and paid it forward.”

  He squats and splays his hands possessively on my thighs. “I’m eventually going to get you to see yourself clearly, Jade DeLeon.”

  “You assholes ready?” Ethan asks, his face a radiant light fueled by doing good deeds while surrounded by good people.

  Ryder kisses me, quick and chaste, and makes his way to his half-sized drum set.

  The band breaks into the song “Heaven’s Delight,” a slow, sultry melody that, combined with Jesse’s haunting voice, has goose bumps rising on my skin.

  For the next thirty minutes, they play a mix of their original songs and some covers. The older people in the room sway and sing along to Jesse’s version of “Blackbird” by The Beatles, and when a young girl with a dirty face and holes in her mittens requests “anything by Justin Timberlake,” Jesse gives her a tight-lipped smile and says, “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He sings the JT version of Cindi Lauper’s “True Colors,” while Ethan, Ryder, and Chris are red-faced from trying not to laugh.

  The evening rolls late into the night, and by the time we leave, the room is swollen with a warmth that has little to do with the heat pumping through the vents.

  With his arm wrapped around my bare ones, Ryder ushers me outside and directly into a waiting line of SUVs that have come to pick us up as well as pack up the instrume
nts. The streets outside are lined with excited fans and police holding them back from the shelter.

  Once we’re safely inside the vehicle, a police escort leads us back toward the hotel.

  “I’m so proud of you,” Bethany says to Jesse, his hand running mindlessly through her hair as she rests on his shoulder. “You kind of cheated with song choice, but taking the request for JT was a big step.”

  Jesse lets out a half growl, half chuckle. “I couldn’t say no to the kid. She was so fucking cute, reminded me of my niece Elliot. But, I’m gonna forget that ever happened and you assholes better forget it too.”

  Ethan’s nose is in his phone. “Forget? Fuck that, I got a video.” He makes show of punching the screen. “And send. Now JT has it too.”

  Jesse reaches over and punches Ethan in the arm.

  “Dude! What is it with you guys hitting my strumming arm!”

  Ryder’s laugh is low and easy at my side. He looks a little tired, and I find myself overwhelmed again with gratitude for what he made happen at the shelter tonight. He truly is a decent man. My toes scrunch inside the warm boots in agreement.

  “Thank you,” I say, and when Ryder turns and looks at me, I can’t hold his eyes for long without wanting to cry, so I turn and address all of them. “You guys can’t fathom the gift you’ve given those people tonight. They’ll never forget what you did.” I risk a peek back at Ryder and smile, but I feel shy and a little small under his stare. “I won’t either.”

  “Nah… no need to thank us,” Jesse says. “That was just as much of a gift to us as it was to them, trust me.”

  He’s wrong. He’s so wrong. He couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to be hungry and cold with inadequate clothing and then to be gifted a night where you forget your circumstances and get lost in a fantasy.

  Isn’t that what I’m doing with Ryder?

  Refusing to think too hard on that, I sit in the warm glow of feeling a part of something bigger than myself the way I was tonight.

  All too soon we’re at the hotel, and security creates a human shield around us as we’re ushered though the lobby and to the bank of elevators.

  Ryder slips his hand in mine the second we are out of the SUV and doesn’t let it go until we’re safe inside our room. The sound of the door clicking shut is a bomb in my ears, and when my eyes meet Ryder’s, a million unspoken possibilities pass between us.

  “Are you hungry?” He has his hand on his duffle bag.

  “A little.” I didn’t eat tonight at the shelter. It felt wrong taking food from so many desperate for a meal. “Are you?”

  “I could eat.”

  I shiver. Whether it’s from the chill on my bare arms or the dark rumble accompanying Ryder’s words, I don’t know.

  “Why don’t you warm up in a hot shower, and I’ll order room service.”

  The anticipation of being surrounded in steam and warming myself from the inside is too good to refuse. I grab my pajamas and toiletries and lock myself in the bathroom, leaving Ryder to flip through the room service menu.

  Outside the window is a sea of black and a streak of moonlight over the bay. I slip under the hot spray and wash my body with luxurious shampoo and body wash provided by the hotel. I don’t know how long I’m in the shower for, but after I’ve shaved and bathed and can’t think of any other reason to stay, I force myself out with wrinkled hands and splotchy red skin.

  I lotion, brush and towel-dry my hair, then slip into my pajama shorts and tank top. After gathering my dirty clothes that smell of garlic and fried meatballs, a cloud of steam follows me back into the room.

  Ryder’s on the bed, his back to the headboard, his bare feet crossed at the ankles, and damn, the man even has beautiful feet. Long, clean, and perfectly manicured. I smile when I imagine Ryder getting a pedicure. He doesn’t strike me as the type, but what do I know? He’s still in his jeans and T-shirt from today, and he lifts his eyes from his phone to watch me move across the room.

  “Shower good?”

  I can’t help but grin. “The best.”

  “As soon as the food gets here, I’ll hop in.”

  I drop my clothes into my suitcase. “I’ll take care of the food. You can jump in now.”

  His gaze slips to my chest, and he slowly shakes his head before coming back to my eyes. “Nope. I got it.”

  As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door. He jumps off the bed, and I hear him exchange words with another man before Ryder finally says, “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll take it from here.”

  Ryder returns to the room pushing a cart covered in gold-domed plates. He leaves it near the four-person table. “I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for, so I got a little of everything.”

  The scent of savory food makes my mouth water, and I step up to the cart feeling a little uneasy, as I always do accepting free food from him.

  “Eat up.” He points over his shoulder. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

  “I can wait.”

  He winks. “Nah, go for it. While it’s hot.” When he turns to walk away, I get the strangest feeling he’s aware of how uncomfortable I am and he’s giving me the opportunity to eat my fill in private.

  At the sound of the shower, I remove the domes one by one. Whoa, he wasn’t kidding. He really did order a little bit of everything—chicken teriyaki, steak and potatoes, salmon on veggies, green salad, shrimp cocktail, even a plate of ruby-red long-stemmed strawberries.

  I snag the salmon and silverware and sit in a seat facing the window. The Ferris wheel is lit like a beacon as it slowly moves around and around. I moan at my first bite, and my second follows quickly after. While eating, I replay everything that happened tonight and again marvel at the opportunity I have to even be here. All because of Ryder.

  Just the thought of his name brings a smile to my face.

  When the bathroom door opens, I’m finishing my second strawberry after cleaning my salmon plate.

  “You leave anything for me?” Ryder asks while rubbing his hair with a towel, a playful smirk aimed at me. He’s wearing nothing but a baggy pair of thin cotton pants, and I’m transfixed watching his muscles contract with every movement.

  My cheeks get hot, and I pray he can’t tell as I dart my gaze away from the tattoo on his chest. “There’s plenty. I think you ordered almost everything on the menu.”

  He tosses the towel on the foot of the bed and lifts domes until finding what he wants. Steak and potatoes. He snags a beer from the mini-fridge. Yeah, he’s not a pedicure man, which means his feet are naturally this beautiful. Of course they are.

  Rather than sit across from me, he sits next to me and even pushes his seat closer so that our elbows nearly touch. His close proximity has my pulse fluttering a little harder.

  I think how close we were to having sex last night in his tiny bunk. We were both so crazed with lust, and I was a little disappointed when he made it clear we weren’t going to have sex.

  But here, in this beautiful hotel with the gorgeous view, totally alone, what is there to stop us?

  19

  Ryder

  There are three things about Jade I am absolutely sure of.

  First, she’s fucking gorgeous. So much more than the unique mix of ethnicities giving her darker skin, light eyes, the kind of hair that gives men fantasies of what it feels like against their bare skin, and those dimples… her looks are a sensory feast. There’s no denying that.

  Second, Jade is a good person. Not just good, one of the best. Watching her tonight as she worked tirelessly, preparing food after having given the jacket off her own back, the shoes from her feet, she never once stopped smiling. She has the kind of goodness that is contagious, the kind that leaks from her person, effortlessly inspiring others to do the same.

  And third, I know she has secrets. Big ones. And as much as I want to take her in my arms and show her just how beautiful I think she is, I will not have sex with her until I know more about her.

  “Are you married?”<
br />
  Her gaze darts to mine, and she chokes on a strawberry before swallowing it down. “Excuse me?”

  Having cleaned my plate, I push it a few inches away, take a sip of my beer, and sit back eyeing her. “You heard me.”

  “No, I’m not married, my God…” She blinks away and toward the window before turning back to me. “You actually think I’d hook up with you if I were married?”

  I shrug. “No, I don’t think you would, but I also figured I should ask.”

  “I can’t believe you’d ask me that.”

  “Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t sleep with women I know nothing about.”

  A fiery glint lights her eyes.

  “You know plenty about me, even met my parents. I don’t even know if you have parents.”

  “Maybe I need to explain the way procreation works. The dad contributes a sperm, the mom an egg. Boom! Human. Of course I have parents. I have brothers too.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  She licks her lips, which is bad for me because it makes me want to bail on this whole getting-to-know-ya convo and replace her tongue with my own. I sip my beer instead and will her to hurry and talk so we can get through it and get to the making out. “I never knew my dad, but my mom said he was the most handsome man she’d ever met. She said it was love at first sight for her.”

  “How long were they married?”

  She shakes her head, drops her gaze, and picks at the leaves of a discarded strawberry hull. “They weren’t. According to my mom, he was some kind of traveling salesman. She said he’d visited a few times a year until I was three and then he stopped showing up, and we never saw him again. Mom said he must’ve gotten married, started his own family.”

  “What about your brothers? Do they ever hear from him?”

  “We all have different dads. So, no.” She continues to tug leaves.

  “Do your brothers live in LA too?”

  She meets my eyes, and her expression is almost robotic, void of emotion when she says, “My oldest brother was in the army. He died in Syria four years ago. The youngest is still serving. He’s in Europe now. I haven’t seen him since my brother’s funeral. Haven’t spoken to him in… God, it’s been months.”