Hank King looked at his daughter with true adoration. “I’m pretty sure he was talking about you three.”
“Or maybe he’s still thinking about the women crying over him. Oh, and the one holding on to him with a death grip. That gets to a man,” Travis said, biting into an apple.
He might be a little overwhelmed by all the introductions, but the thing that “got to him” the most tonight had nothing to do with his career and everything to do with a woman. Since he’d walked into Krystal’s dressing room and they’d locked eyes, he’d been trying to recover. That wasn’t what tonight should have been about. But, damn it all, he had no idea how to make it stop.
“We need to get you some security.” Luke frowned. “I’ll get on that now.” He was already typing something into his phone.
“The first time someone grabbed hold of me, I panicked,” Emmy said.
“You were sixteen. Being grabbed by a stranger at sixteen is panic worthy,” Krystal said. “Don’t let it get to you, Jace. Keep on smiling and, if it gets too intense, flag your guy over.”
His name had never sounded husky and sexy as hell until she’d said it. And she’d said it right this time. Jace. He cleared his throat and took a swig from his water bottle.
“Looks like you’ve already got your own fan base.” Hank scratched his temple. “I don’t know much about the show you won, but people seem to already know and love you. That’s a good thing.”
“Your sales are only as strong as your fan base,” Emmy Lou said. “They won’t buy you if they don’t love you.”
“Guess you all don’t have much to worry about,” he said. Three Kings were a fixture on the charts. And Emmy Lou King? She had an army of fans dedicated to her.
Emmy Lou shook her head. “I always worry. People are watching everything I do or say—it’s a lot of responsibility. I don’t want to mess that up.”
“That’s why people adore her.” Krystal’s gaze flicked his way. “She’s just as loyal to them as they are to her.”
Seeing the sisters side by side was a surprise. The sisters were identical twins, but he had no problem telling them apart. Krystal was in her signature black, tight and seductive. Emmy was in pale pink and white, lacy and flowing. But the attire wasn’t what did it. Maybe it was their mannerisms or their voices or the fact that one sister grabbed, and held, his interest.
Travis tossed his apple core into the trash. “And why she doesn’t have much of a social life.”
“Social life?” Krystal’s smile hardened. “Like you? I’m pretty sure taking groupies back to your place doesn’t count. Besides, they might not be a fan when the party is over.”
Jace did his best not to laugh, but damn, she was good. Even her father was laughing.
“Beware.” Travis leaned closer and pretended to whisper to him. “My sister has a razor-sharp tongue. Don’t get on her bad side.”
Jace had a sinking feeling he was already on her bad side—for reasons unknown.
“We really appreciate the time you’ve given us tonight, but we’ll be heading out.” Luke was shaking Steve Zamora’s hand. “We’ll wait for your call on the scheduling.”
“Monday morning, our Austin studio, nine a.m. Right, Hank?” Steve asked. “Let’s get this project in the works.”
Krystal missed a step, teetering enough so that she braced one hand on the wall. It wasn’t much—but it was enough for Jace. She didn’t want him singing her song. The look on her face only confirmed it. She really didn’t want him singing it. He had one choice: prove he’d do it right.
“Already set up,” Hank replied, nodding his goodbye and disappearing through the door.
“Jace?” Luke asked.
Jace nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Steve nodded and followed Emmy Lou through the door.
Krystal finished off her water bottle and turned to face him. Those eyes of hers were blazing. If he’d had time, he’d have tried to talk to her, to calm her fears. It was one of those songs—important, special. He’d damn well make sure anyone listening to it knew it, too.
The first time he’d read the lyrics, he’d been drawn in. After the soul-crushing loss he’d suffered three years ago, “Ashes of My Heart” said all the things he’d never been able to. While he thought Krystal’s soulful rasp was a better fit for the song than Emmy Lou, it wasn’t his call. Something told him Krystal wouldn’t care about his opinion of the lyrics or her voice. She’d think he was sucking up.
Still he couldn’t help himself. “Meeting you…well, tonight’s been my lucky night. I hope I’ll see you again.” And he meant it.
She shook her head. “Do you? Guess we’ll see, Jack.” Without another word, she followed her family into the next room.
Chapter 2