The Right Man

by Mankin, Michelle

“Yes.”

  “Is she with you right now? Can she hear me?”

  “Yeah, Mom.” He raked a hand through his hair while scanning both sides of the road. “I can’t find a place to pull over.”

  “There.” I pointed at a car dealership just off the freeway. “Up ahead on the right.”

  “Thanks, Jewel.”

  “Hello, Jewel,” his mom sang through the speakers.

  “Hi, Mrs. McMahon.”

  “You sound sweet. I love your accent. Where are you from? Where did Rush meet you, at one of his concerts?”

  “I’m from Tennessee.”

  Rush pulled into the dealership and steered into a spot. He put the Porsche in park and cut the engine but left the accessories running.

  “Oh,” his mom said. “I don’t remember that being on his tour schedule.”

  “It wasn’t,” Rush said. “I met Jewel here in LA.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you met someone when I called?”

  “I met her right after you called.”

  “You seem very comfortable with her for someone you just met.”

  “I am, Mom. That’s because she doesn’t just sound sweet. She is sweet.”

  I smiled. Rush was so distracted, he didn’t seem to be measuring his words.

  “But you can’t just call and start grilling me and my girl after scaring me half to death. What’s going on?”

  “Right. I’m sorry. It’s just good news for you to be with someone. After Brenda, I thought you’d never move on.”

  “Mom,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Focus.”

  “Sure. Well, the routine tests they took during my physical were normal. But I keep having dizzy spells.”

  “Dizzy spells? What the hell, Mom! You didn’t say anything about that when I asked specifically about your health.”

  “Don’t raise your voice to me, Rush Patrick McMahon. I assumed it was just low potassium. I’ve had that before, and I didn’t want to worry you. More importantly, why didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend?”

  “It’s a new development.” He flicked his gaze to me and pressed a finger to his lips.

  I got the message. He didn’t want me to contradict him, and I wouldn’t. In a dream world, I would be his girl—gladly. In a heartbeat.

  I reached for his hand and removed it from his mouth, then brought it to my lap and squeezed it reassuringly.

  “So, Mom.” He exhaled a shaky breath. “The dizzy spells. What do they think is causing them?”

  “It could be seasonal allergies, or it could be just stress. It’s probably nothing, but you know how thorough Dr. Shannon is. And I know how upset you’d be if I didn’t tell you.”

  Silence filled the cabin. Rush’s fingers tensed, and the lines deepened in his face. “I appreciate that. But I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it will be. But, Rush, could you do something for me?”

  “Yes, anything.”

  “Say a prayer.”

  “Done.”

  “And could you come home soon to visit? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

  His hand flexed in mine. “I start the tour soon. Maybe . . .”

  “I know you do, but could you come sooner? During the break? It’s only a few hours on the plane.”

  “And a long drive.”

  “Please?”

  “Yes.” Rush glanced at me. Shadows darkened his gaze.

  “For Christmas?” she asked, her tone plaintive.

  “I’ll do my best, Mom.”

  “That’s all I ever ask. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “It really means a lot to me.”

  “I know it does. That’s why I’m doing it. Listen, I need to go. I have work stuff to do. Studio time to try to rearrange on short notice.” He sighed. “But I’ll figure a way to make it happen.”

  “Thank you, son. Good-bye.”

  “’Bye, Mom.”

  • • •

  Rush

  I stared at Jewel after I ended the call, and she held my gaze, her pretty features pinched with concern. I was comforted by her presence, even with all the uncertainty swirling around inside me after what my mom had shared. And that wasn’t the only uncertainty that weighed heavy on me.

  “Do you think you could extend your week a little longer?” I hurried to clarify, sensing Jewel was about to refuse. “Just until I get back from Indiana.”

  Her eyes filled, and she shook her head.

  “Then come with me.”

  “Rush, I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “It wouldn’t be right.” She glanced away.

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  She blinked hard, then her eyes met mine. “Because this is temporary. I don’t want to give your mom the wrong impression.”

  I clenched my jaw so tight, my teeth hurt.

  “We have a few more days,” she whispered.

  That wasn’t enough to change her mind. I knew it wasn’t. Not with her so focused on the expiration date.

  “All right.” I lifted my chin, withdrew my hand from hers, and turned the ignition.

  I avoided her eyes as I backed out of the dealership. We were both silent, lost in our own thoughts as I took the next entry ramp onto the freeway.

  I wasn’t sure what was going through her mind. Mine was racing as fast as the Porsche was speeding. I wasn’t used to being refused, and I didn’t like it, especially from her. But I wasn’t giving her up. I’d just have to accelerate my plan to convince her to stay.

  Problem was, I didn’t have a plan. Just the vague idea to use the privileges that came with my status. And I was afraid that wouldn’t be enough.

  I reached for her, and she took my hand. Her skin was like ice. I glanced at her as I exited the freeway. She was staring out the windshield, her bottom lip between her teeth. She seemed tense.

  “Maybe we should go back to the condo,” I said as I squeezed her hand. When she was in my arms, she was all mine and I could read her better.

  “What?” She turned to look at me, blinking slowly as she refocused. “And skip the guitar store?” Her thickly lashed eyes narrowed. “When I had my fun, and you haven’t had yours? When we’re almost there?”

  She shook her head, luxurious waves of rich brown streaked with copper billowing around her slim shoulders. With time running out so rapidly, I wanted to catalog every detail.

  “No way,” she said. “I want to see you in your happy place. Imagine you there when . . .” Her lips flattened, and she swallowed. “I like being a part of your regular routine. I don’t want you to change anything for me.” She gave me a stubborn look, which I returned.

  What she didn’t realize was that everything had already changed because of her. But how could I convince her?

  “All right, baby.” I withdrew my hand from hers, but only to get both hands back on the wheel to turn it. “Norman’s next. I’ll make some calls. My boss to see if I can get her to settle for an incomplete album. Then the guys to see where we can set up some studio time on short notice. Then we’re going home.”

  I turned to sweep a determined glance over her.

  “I’m getting you naked. Then making you come. Over and over again.”

  Chapter 29

  * * *

  Jewel

  The guitar store wasn’t much to look at from the outside, just a corner shop in a nondescript strip mall. But inside, it was different. I’d never seen so many guitars in one place before. On the wall. Lined up in rows in their stands on the floor. And seeing Rush’s reaction to them was priceless.

  “Hey, McMahon.” A skinny guy approached us wearing an orange Cal Jam concert T-shirt and dark thick-framed glasses.

  Rush set down the mahogany guitar he’d been reverently running his fingers over. “Yo, Dwight.”

  The two exchanged a typical guy greeting, bumping shoulders and then clapping each other on the back.

 
“Haven’t seen you in a while. How’d the tour go?” Dwight’s eyes narrowed behind his lenses as he turned to scan me from head to toe. “Who’s the babe-a-licious?”

  “I’m Jewel.” Forcing a smile, I extended my hand, finding myself a little irritated by the way the guys in Rush’s circles seemed to assume I couldn’t speak for myself.

  Dwight took my hand, but he didn’t shake it. Instead, he brought it to his mouth and kissed the back of it like we were in an old black-and-white movie. “Enchanté, gorgeous.”

  “Dwight.” Rush glared at him. “Cut the bullshit and back the fuck away from my girl.”

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Dwight’s brows lifted above his glasses’ thick frames. “Not typical to see a hot babe in the store. Last hot redhead was Avery Jones.” Then he turned his inquiring gaze to me. “You play, beautiful?”

  “Um, no. And my hair’s brown, not red.” But my interest was piqued. “Avery Jones, the guitarist for Brutal Strength, she comes in here?”

  “Every time she’s in town.”

  “Wow. Is she as nice as she seems?”

  “Nicer.”

  “Babe.” Rush gave me an incredulous look, raising a single brow. “You didn’t have any clue who I was, but you know Avery?”

  “She’s on the covers of all the fashion magazines. I thumb through them on slow nights . . . at work.” Pivoting on the subject, I said, “She’s unforgettable with her red hair and those green eyes. She does a lot of charity stuff. She seems cool.”

  “She’s way cool.” Dwight nodded and turned back to Rush. “Avery snagged the vintage EVH you were looking at last time.”

  “The signed one?”

  “Yup.”

  “Shit.” Rush’s sculpted lips twisted. “You got any new inventory I haven’t seen?”

  “Hmm.” Dwight pushed his glasses up his nose. “You still on a hunt for a signed Dylan?”

  “Always.”

  “Bob Dylan?” I asked.

  “Who else?” Rush turned to squint at me. “You see him on the covers of fashion magazines too?” He was obviously teasing me, but he still seemed a little insulted that he hadn’t been on my radar as a recording artist.

  “Not on a magazine.” I shook my head. “But my mom met him once and played a set with him. She won a radio-sponsored lyric-writing contest. He played her song on her guitar, and she had him sign it after.”

  Slack-jawed, both men stared at me.

  “The guitar your gran left you?” Rush asked.

  I nodded.

  “Holy shit.”

  “You interested in selling?” Dwight edged closer, his interest palpable.

  “No. Never.” I shook my head. “It’s all I have left of her or my gran.”

  “Drop it, Dwight.” Rush took my hand, obviously noting my distress. “What else you got that might interest me?”

  “Well, no Dylan. But I’ve got a Pat Smear Martin.”

  “What year?”

  “From 2007.”

  “I’d look at it. Sure.”

  “Swell. But you’ll have to wait your turn.” He hooked a thumb over his bony shoulder. “Bryan Jackson’s trying it out.”

  Rush turned to look where Dwight pointed, and then cursed. “Fucking Tempest guys.”

  I turned too and recognized Warren Jinkins and Shaina Bentley from the French restaurant. They were inside a glassed-off room with a guy with short brown hair who held a shiny black guitar. Even from across the shop, I could see he knew what he was doing. His fingers flew over the strings.

  “They’ve been in there a while,” Dwight said. “Bryan seems to have taken a liking to it.”

  Sensing us watching, or maybe just catching our movement, Shaina turned and smiled at me. She touched War’s shoulder, and he turned too and lifted his chin. Rush returned the greeting.

  Bryan’s fingers stilled as he noticed us. But it was Shaina who popped open the door and came hurrying over.

  “Jewel. Hey.” Her smile widened to blindingly bright. “I was just telling Bryan about meeting you.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “She was,” War said.

  The lead singer for Tempest came up behind her wearing a T-shirt and jeans, which seemed to be the requisite guitar-shop attire for guys. Unlike the others, War wore a rolled bandana around his head to hold back his shoulder-length dark brown hair. Shaina looked preppy by contrast, wearing a pink-and-white striped tee and solid powder-pink shorts.

  The guitarist joined us after pulling Dwight aside and exchanging a few words. Up close, I could see that Bryan had light gray-green eyes, almost as uniquely striking as Rush’s.

  Both Tempest guys checked me out. Not with an interested eye like Dwight had, but speculatively.

  “You made an impression with my sweetness,” War said, but his fiancée interrupted.

  “Genuine kindness. It’s rare enough around here,” she said with a grin. “Anyway, I was wanting to get your number to call and invite you over to my place, you and Rush.” She turned her green gaze to the man beside me. “What do you say?”

  Before he could answer, she switched her attention back to me, her hands clasped together to her chest. Her diamond engagement ring sparkled as brightly as her excited gaze.

  “Would you come? We could barbecue out on the deck. Well, my dad could man the grill since War’s not a chef. He could be in charge of popping the beers. War and Bryan disappear for hours whenever they’re together. While the guys jam in the garage studio, you and I could get to know each other better.”

  “That’s nice of you. I don’t know, though.” I glanced at Rush.

  I liked Shaina. A lot. I just wasn’t sure about War or Bryan yet. But one thing I was sure of. I only wanted to spend time with Rush.

  “You have a recording studio in your backyard?” Rush asked War, his brow furrowed as he raked a hand through his hair.

  “Not my backyard, her parents’. It’s a second-story add-on to the garage apartment Shaina and I share when I’m in town and she has work stuff in LA.”

  “You recorded the Tempest unplugged stuff there?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Timmons endorsed it?”

  “Eventually.” War blew out a breath. “After a little sweet-talking by my rhythm guy. She wasn’t sold on the idea of an acoustic interpretation at first.”

  “It’s a cool concept,” Rush said. “Lots of bands are doing it.”

  “She thinks it’s been overdone.”

  “Not if it’s good like yours.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Truth.” Rush looked a little uncomfortable, glancing between War and Shaina. “Hey, feel free to say no, but I’m in a bind time-wise for turning in a project Timmons is pressuring me about. Do you think me and my guys could maybe borrow your studio for a couple of hours?”

  After exchanging a glance with Shaina, War nodded. “Abso-fucking-lutely. My drummer’s out of pocket, so we got shit-all to do as a band at the moment.”

  Shaina clapped her hands with delight. “Bring your bandmates. We could make a party of it. What time would you be free to come over?”

  “Well . . .” Rush gave me a hot look that sizzled. “Is nine too late? I wanna check out that guitar Bry was looking at. Then I’m having alone time with Jewel.”

  War grunted. “Sounds good to me. I wanna have some time to fuck my woman too.” He pulled Shaina close, brushing her long blond hair aside so he could kiss her neck, and her eyes darkened.

  Bryan rolled his eyes, and War and Rush grinned at each other. Apparently, alone time was guy code for fucking your babe.

  I didn’t object. I was totally on board with that plan.

  • • •

  Rush

  “Plays like a dream.”

  Bryan hit me with that information as I started toward the practice room with Jewel in tow.

  “Figured it does.” Its original owner, the Foo Fighters’ guitarist, was known to be a discerning collector.

  “B
ut I didn’t pass on it.” Bryan grinned. “I bought it.”

  “Bastard.”

  When he chuckled, I gave him the one-fingered salute with my free hand. He returned it before ducking out of the shop with War and Shaina.

  Tugging, I pulled Jewel into me. “You make friends easily, babe.”

  Tipping her head to keep me in view, she blinked her golden eyes as I moved both my hands to the small of her back. “Shaina’s easy to like,” she said, deflecting the compliment.

  “She is. But so are you.” A pink shade similar to the former teen star’s outfit colored Jewel’s cheeks.

  “Thank you.”

  “Just calling it like I see it. So, you wanna stay here and have Dwight give us the hard sell on shit I don’t need to buy, or do you wanna go home with me and get naked?”

  “Home. With you.”

  She smiled, and my heart did that thing in response that I was coming to expect it to do. But though expected, I didn’t think I would ever get used to it.

  As I stroked my hand through her hair and leaned in to kiss her, my cell rang. “Fucking hell!” I exclaimed, releasing Jewel. “It’s my brother.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. Looking dazed, she watched as I dug my phone from my pocket.

  “Is Mom okay?” I asked. A call from Randy was unexpected enough to make my gut knot. He was supposed to be in Hawaii on his honeymoon with Brenda.

  Randy snorted. “I know as much on that front as you do. Just got off the phone with her. Unlike you, I check in with her every day when I’m not here.”

  His jab hit its mark. The lightness I’d experienced just a moment before because of Jewel faded.

  “She told me she talked to you.” Randy’s voice tightened. “Said you’re coming for Christmas.”

  “I’m going to try,” I said, setting him straight. “I—”

  “Don’t.”

  “What?”

  “She doesn’t need you.” Another jab, a harder one. “I’ll be there. You’ll only make things worse.”

  “How?”

  “You fuck things up, Rush, and I pick up the pieces. That’s the pattern.”

  “Like with Brenda, huh?” I fired back, going straight to pissed. My brother had that effect on me.

  “You shouldn’t have sent the flowers. They upset her. You’ve got no clue how to handle a woman.”