The enigmatic drummer has been tamed.
“Misogynist jerk,” she grumbled.
Jo Jackson and Noah Clarke’s secret love child. Does his wife know?
Oh gosh. She couldn’t help but laugh. Noah might be upset with her, but she also knew he’d find this hilarious. She sent him a text.
Jo: Hey, baby daddy.
Noah took no time at all to respond.
Noah: See?! I told you from the start the baby was mine.
He had. Noah and Drew both claimed they were going to be fathers when the baby was born. When they first said it last summer, she was still in shock from being pregnant in the first place. It wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. But now… there was comfort in that. Her kid might not ever have his dad, but he’d have plenty of people who cared about him.
Jo: I hope our love child hasn’t messed up the marriage that started in secret. Gah, the media must love us.
Noah: Everyone already adored us, love.
Noah: Have you found the articles about Dax yet?
Jo froze. Melanie mentioned something about Dax, but she hadn’t wanted to believe it. She pulled up the internet again and scrolled through links until she got to one that said Jo Jackson’s mystery man. There was an image of them getting into Dax’s car in the parking garage. She wore her Batman mask, but her pink tipped hair peeking out was a dead giveaway.
And it wasn’t the only blog post mentioning Dax.
Friends tell all. Sources close to the couple tell us Jo Jackson’s new man is a doctor at the hospital she will give birth in.
Her brow scrunched. Dax? A doctor. She needed to talk to him, to make sure he wasn’t freaking out. Swinging her legs out of bed, she could practically hear his voice in her head. You need to stay in bed.
But she also needed to talk to him. She hobbled to the door on her injured foot. If she didn’t move awkwardly before with the ginormous belly, she did now.
She found Dax in the living room watching the news. Her eyes zeroed in on a clip of them in the parking garage.
Her phone buzzed, probably another text from Noah. Right now, she needed to talk to someone else. Gripping the back of the couch to stay upright, she tore her eyes away from the news. “Hey.”
He tilted his head back to look at her. “You should—”
“Be in bed. I know.”
Silence stretched between them. Dax, it seemed, had reverted back to his introspective and awkward self.
“So…” She didn’t know what else to say.
“So?” Dax’s eyes drifted back to the TV.
“Are you upset? I understand if you are. You were only photographed because you were with me, and I feel awful.”
Dax hesitated for a moment before switching the TV off. “It’s okay, Jo. Go back to bed.”
“No.”
He sighed. “My mom says you should only get up when it’s necessary.”
That made her pause. “Did you talk to your mom about me today?”
“I—I… yes. I wanted to make sure I was doing everything right to take care of you.”
That was… oddly sweet. Who knew Dax had it in him? “You really don’t care that you were on camera?”
“Of course I care, but it’s not your fault. They don’t know who I am anyway.”
But the unspoken truth now lay between them. They both knew the media would dig and dig until they got the answers they needed.
Jo needed to do these interviews Melanie was having sent over. She needed to make them forget about the guy she’d been with, about Dax.
She couldn’t reveal who was really the father, not now, but she also couldn’t let Dax’s entire life change because of one decision.
Because he’d been there for her.
Operation Make the world forget about random dude commenced.
And she wasn’t in it alone.
Drew called her the day after she found the articles to see how she was doing. His mistake because now he had to help her.
She gave him no other choice.
Though, he probably would have chosen to help anyway. Most of the world saw Drew as nothing more than a sex symbol. They didn’t know his kindness or the pure happiness he exuded.
And she needed a bit of that.
She set her computer in front of her on the bed as Drew talked nonstop about the tour—a tour Noah and Jo hadn’t been able to finish with him because of the pregnancy. For the months they’d joined Drew, everything felt right.
When she got to a point she couldn’t hide the pregnancy, the label replaced them—at Jo’s request—with a singer from another label. Beckett Anderson. Jo didn’t know him, but from what Drew said, the guy was pretty epic.
“Jo.” Drew stared into the camera. “Are you going to talk or continue staring off into space?”
She shook herself. “Sorry, just thinking. How’s the tour?”
“Bloody brilliant—as our favorite Brit would say. The crowds are intense.”
She leaned back against her pillows. “I miss that. I wonder if I’ll ever experience it again.”
“Sure, you will.”
“I’ll have a baby, Drew.”
He smiled. “And Daddy Drew will hold the baby while his momma rocks out on stage.”
A laugh bubbled out of her.
Drew’s smile fell as he studied her. “Have you even showered in this century? Pregnant women still need to shower, right?”
She fingered her tangled locks, not wanting to admit she hadn’t showered in days because between the foot and the alien baby, she wasn’t sure she could do it herself. “I’m kinda gross.” She sighed. “But this is more important. Think we should bring the other guys into it?”
“Definitely not. Noah is a PR nightmare, Melanie will want us to do it her way, and Ben… I never know what he wants. Except Piper. He definitely wants her.”
“Okay then.” She rubbed her hands together. “What is the best way to get a pap off your story?”
“Give them a new one. So, are we going to tell them who the real father is? That would make them forget all about the random guy in the parking lot.”
Jo shook her head. “We can’t say it was Blake. But if I’m seen with someone else, the speculation about Dax would end.”
“One problem with that, Joey. You don’t have any friends. Besides us, of course, and we’re all taken.”
“Hey! I have… okay, fine. I have no friends.”
“It’s a good thing the tour is close to L.A. right now. I’ll send you a man.”
“That sounds ominous.”
He ignored her words. “We have a busy schedule for the next week, but then there’s a short break. I’ll put Nolan on a plane.”
“Nolan?” It had possibilities. Nolan was one of Drew’s dancers. Jo had always liked him in a friend kind of way. He’d work. “You can’t just put him on a plane. You need to ask him. Dancers aren’t indentured servants.”
Drew laughed. “Oh, I will. But I think he’ll like that sort of break. I’ll send you the details. I have to go before Piper comes and yells at me for being late to sound check.” He flashed her one more very-Drew-like smile and hung up.
Jo wasn’t even supposed to get out of bed. How was she to go anywhere with Nolan and be seen?
She knew one thing for sure… she couldn’t tell Dax.
10
Dax
Cooking calmed Dax. It reminded him he wasn’t only one thing. That was one of the problems in this world—and one of the reasons he fought so hard to keep his identity a secret. Once people noticed someone, they assumed they knew everything, especially if that person was famous.
Dax wanted to be more than that.
He loved music with everything he had.
But he didn’t only love music.
He chopped onions with the rapid technique he’d learned years ago and slid the pieces in a pan. He had no idea the kinds of food Jo ate normally, but he got the feeling it wasn’t altogether healthy. He was determined to make h
er do everything right for the remainder of the pregnancy.
Over the last few days, he’d tried to push the news articles from his mind, tried to act like they didn’t scare him half to death. He’d done everything he could to make sure his face never became a recognizable one, to make sure he could go to the store without getting mobbed.
And if the media dug enough, it could all come tumbling down. He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes before issuing a curse as the onion on his fingertips burned.
“Crap!” He darted to the sink and turned the water on. Leaning over, he rinsed his hands before scooping water and wetting his eyes. Water dripped down onto his shirt, but he didn’t care, not once the relief came.
Droplets fell from the ends of his hair as he stood.
A soft laugh came from the doorway, and he turned to find Jo watching him.
“You should be in bed.” He cringed at his words. Coming up with anything else to say to his houseguest wasn’t easy. Not when she spent so much time studying, trying to see behind the wall of awkwardness that existed between them.
Jo hobbled toward him, an injured foot and pregnant belly not stopping her. She struggled for a moment when she reached a bar stool but then managed to pull herself up. Sifting through the stack of papers Dax left on the counter, she raised a brow. “Did Devlin send you these questions?”
Dax nodded.
Jo laughed. “I didn’t know fans would be interested in what you did to keep in shape when they couldn’t see you to know you are in fact in shape.”
“Devlin.” He sighed. “Those questions are for some health magazine.”
“Why’d you print all these out? I typed mine up and emailed them.”
He shrugged, going back to his cooking.
Jo dropped the pages back onto the marble. “What are you making?”
The few times they’d talked since she came to stay had been full of stuttering on his part and trying to escape on hers. He’d already come to terms with the fact Jo Jackson didn’t like him, that she didn’t even consider him a friend.
Yet, it didn’t stop him from wanting to be there for her.
He turned away from her. “I’m making us a stir fry. If you go back to bed, I’ll bring it to you.”
She released a long sigh. “I’m so tired of being in bed.”
He stirred the chicken in and reached for the tamari sauce. “It won’t be for much longer.”
“Two months, Dax. You try staying in bed for two months and see how you like it.”
He pursed his lips but focused on the food to have an excuse not to look at her.
“Please just let me eat out here with you. I’m not meant to be cooped up in a single room.”
He looked back over his shoulder, his face showing no emotion. “Jo…”
She groaned. “I hate Blake. I hate him so much. He’s the evil spawn who put this evil spawn inside me.”
Dax didn’t think she believed her own words. He’d seen her walking around with a protective hand on her belly. He’d watched her eyes light up when she announced he was kicking.
Whatever Jo felt about Blake, she didn’t regret the baby.
Neither of them spoke again while Dax continued to cook. By the time the food was ready, they’d reached a comfortable silence. He slid a plate toward her and took a seat on the stool next to hers.
They ate without speaking, something Dax was used to. He got the feeling being quiet was new for Jo, and he’d have given anything to hear what was on her mind.
Dax swallowed his last bite. “I need to go out after I clean up. Will you be okay?”
“Dax.” She leveled him with a very Jo-like stare. “I’m fine. I don’t need a babysitter.”
He wasn’t so sure about that, but he nodded and cleared their plates. Jo moved to come help him clean, but he shot her a look that had her backing off.
She turned to walk back to her room before calling over her shoulder. “Thanks for eating with me.”
When her door shut, Dax sagged against the counter. Being around Jo had always made a nervous energy race through him, and this time was no different.
Jo was a drummer with pink-tipped hair. Sarcasm dripped off most of her words, and she was pregnant with someone else’s baby.
Yet…
Yet.
She’d always be the girl who haunted him, the one he could never have. Because the Jo Jacksons of the world paid no mind to bumbling idiots who could barely get two words out.
He’d always known if his identity was revealed, the entire world would see him differently.
He threw the dish towel on the counter and rounded the island to get to the front door. He thought about calling for a car, but he needed to get out and he needed it now. Snatching his keys off the hook by the door, he stepped outside and gulped in the fresh air.
Sparing one more glance at the house, he slid into his Honda. His friends teased him about the car, saying he hired private jets but drove an old lady car.
It worked for him.
He didn’t need much from the grocery store—it was more an excuse to get out—but he found himself there anyway.
Paparazzi stood scattered near the entrance. They never went away in case there was a celebrity sighting.
He didn’t usually bother with disguises except when leaving the studio, but his face was out there now. They might not recognize him as Dax Nelson, but he wanted to avoid the questions about Jo, so he pulled a ball cap down low.
He stepped out of his Honda and weaved around cars to get to the entrance, avoiding looking at the paparazzi.
His breath rushed into him when he set foot inside the store.
He searched the aisles, but none of the reporters seemed to have come in. With a sigh, he wandered the store, not really sure what he’d come for. In the next week, Ben would invade his home studio for their collaboration, so he found the seltzer water both Ben and Jo liked, as well as a few other snacks. He snagged a basket and dumped his pickings in.
Dax rounded the corner of an aisle and froze as he recognized the man pondering the chip selection.
Blake Coleman.
The douchewad who forced Jo into an NDA.
He tried to see what she’d seen in him. The entire world thought Blake was a good-looking guy, but beyond that, what would have attracted Jo to a man they all hated?
As if sensing someone watching, Blake turned, his eyes meeting Dax’s. “You have a problem, man?”
Dax normally avoided confrontation at all costs, but something kept him there, something emboldened his words. “I do.” He took a step forward. What was he doing?
When Blake shot him a murderous look, Dax wanted to turn back, to go home to Jo and reassure her that she didn’t need this man, she only needed Dax.
Blake set the bag of chips he’d been holding back on the shelf. “Go home, man. You don’t want to mess with me.” He shook his head but didn’t take his eyes off Dax.
“You are the worst kind of human.” The insult was lame, but Dax didn’t care. He couldn’t look at Blake without a pit opening up inside him.
“Is that right?” Blake crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed. “Wait, I know you.”
“Doubtful.”
“No, I do.” He smirked. “You’re with Jo.” His smile widened. “That’s it. You’re the mystery man. Kudos to you for putting up with her, bro. That girl… she’s a lot. Good in—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence before Dax’s fist cracked against Blake’s cheek.
Dax had never punched anyone in his life. His hands were too valuable to his career. But he wanted to do it again.
Blake lunged for him, his fist pummeling Dax’s face.
Adrenaline shot through Dax as the pain throbbed. “You hurt her.” He shoved Blake back against the shelves. “She deserves so much more than you.”
Blake took another run at him, grabbing Dax by the shirt. “You’re a nobody. I could sue Jo for telling you the truth.”
“I’d like t
o see you try.”
Blake’s chest heaved with anger, his eyes burning into Dax’s.
Cameras flashing snapped them both out of the fog of rage. Blake released Dax’s shirt and turned to the cameras. So much for paparazzi not coming into the store.
Dax took a moment to calm his breathing and straighten his clothes.
A smug grin slid across Blake’s face, and he clapped Dax on the back. “Just two old friends having a bit of fun, right man?”
Dax nodded and pulled his hat down lower.
“It’s Jo Jackson’s mystery man!” someone yelled.
That was Dax’s cue to get out of there. Without saying a word, he lifted his basket and booked it down the aisle. None of the paparazzi followed them as Blake entranced them with a story of a pretend fight in the grocery store. Dax doubted any of them actually bought it.
He needed to get out of there. Stopping in the frozen food aisle, he pressed his stinging knuckles to the cool glass, sighing with the relief. He scanned the contents of the freezer as he listened for anyone to have followed him.
There was one more thing he had to buy before he left.
Ice cream.
For Jo.
He breathed deeply as the adrenaline from the fight faded away.
“What did I do?” he grumbled. He’d lost his mind the moment Blake insulted Jo.
He walked until he found the ice cream. But what flavor did she eat? Wracking his brain for the answer, he couldn’t remember.
“A little of everything it is.” He piled tubs of ice cream in his basket until it was full.
At the end of the aisle, he looked both ways, noticing the paparazzi still occupied with Blake. At least there was some benefit to his ego.
Dax’s hands shook as he piled the contents of the basket on the conveyer belt. There were many reasons he avoided being photographed, avoided anyone knowing who he was.
And yet, for the second time in a week, he couldn’t avoid it.
He paid and took his bags. Keeping his eyes on the ground so no one recognized him, he ran to his car, sighing once he reached its safety.
Love is a Drum Beat (Rockstars Anonymous) Page 7
