Her sister? Or brother? She wasn’t about to dump her garbage on them. Assumptions had been made, sure, but nothing had been confirmed. Emmy Lou would be devastated. Travis? He’d want to go for the jugular. She wouldn’t drag her siblings into this or tear her entire family apart instead of just her relationship with her mother.
“Krystal?” Jace. Of course. He cleared his throat. “I need to get something.”
“Go ahead,” she murmured, setting her guitar case on the floor at her feet and closing the compartment. The latch on the door wouldn’t stick. She tried again. No luck. And again. “Shit.”
“Need help?” he asked.
“No.” She shoved harder, slamming with more force than necessary.
He squeezed behind her, warm and solid. “Excuse me.”
She stepped back, against the wall of compartments, frazzled by his nearness. By him, reaching for the overhead compartment and how his shirt lifted just enough to reveal a sampling of his seriously ripped abs. Forget the damn latch.
How she wished their night together had
cooled her interest in him. If anything, it had the opposite effect. The two or three times she’d dared to look his way, she’d been back in his bed, his hands on her skin, buried deep inside her. Now was no exception. She’d give just about anything to rewind and replay their night together.
His light brown eyes met hers, his jaw muscles working—clenching—tight. “You okay?”
She nodded. She’d be better if he was touching her. Kissing her. “Did you need something?”
“Your dad was looking for his harmonica. Said it might be here?” He paused, those light brown eyes fixed on her. “Any idea where it might be?”
She nodded, bending to open the drawer that stored her father’s excessive harmonica collection. “Which one?”
He was closer behind her. “Not sure.”
She pulled out his favorite, a silver Hohner Super Chromonica, from its velvet-lined box, pushed the drawer shut, and stood, facing the cabinets—not Jace. It was safer that way, wasn’t it? Not getting lost in his eyes or the curve of his mouth. Much safer. Or not. Her ass was pressed tight against what felt like the beginnings of just the sort of thing she’d been thinking about—dreaming about—since she’d left his hotel room.
“Here.” He reached around her, the back of his hand brushing a far too aroused nipple, and closed the compartment she’d been fighting with, pushing until the latch caught. His hand stayed there, open and flat against the wood, his arm braced taut, against her side, close to holding her. But not.
She was breathing heavily, willing him to touch her, aching for it.
“Krystal.” The roughness in his voice sent a shudder down her spine.
No, no. If he started talking, she’d listen. And he was too good at saying all the right—wrong—things. She spun to face him, injecting as much irritation into her “Here” as possible while holding out the harmonica.
His gaze narrowed, falling from her face to the harmonica—to her impossible-to-miss nipples straining against her shirt. He closed his eyes, blew out a long, slow breath, and took the harmonica. She waited, not sure what to hope for but hoping all the same. Finally, his eyes opened, blazing. Beautiful. Hungry. For her.
And he walked away.
She almost slid down the wall to the floor, almost called him back, but knew that was a bad idea. It, they, couldn’t happen again. Being alone with him was way too tempting. He’d know what she wanted now, but being the gentleman he was, he’d never act on it without her permission.
She splashed some cold water on her face in the restroom before carrying her guitar back to the eat-in booth built into the bus. Travis and Emmy Lou were reading over her notes, instantly engrossed by her new song. But Jace was singing and his voice did things to her. She set her guitar aside and gave up pretending she wasn’t listening. Her daddy joined in, harmonizing. Travis picked up her guitar and joined in, the three of them turning one song into another—until a full-on jam session was underway.
This was how music should be—full of joy and laughter. So much so that parking at the Civic Center was almost a letdown. Not because they had a show, but because the rest of the world existed again. And in that world, she had to keep her distance from Jace Black. No matter how hard that was going to be.
* * *
Jace heard the roar of the crowd and smiled. He was a long way from comfortable with his new gig as the Three Kings opening act but this, his duet with Krystal, he looked forward to. When the lights went dim, he made his way carefully to his waiting stool. Now, it wasn’t just the song or getting to sing with her. This was the only time he had with her. Since that day on the bus, she’d gone out of her way to avoid him. Hell, she’d barely even look at him. Except onstage.
Onstage, she looked at him like he was someone special to her. Sang her heart out for him.
He sat, his fingers plucking out the first lines of their song. The audience went crazy.
When the lights went up, she was sitting beside him—a microphone in her hands.
“I remember you, standing in the sun, smiling at me, and suddenly the world caught fire. Blinding, beautiful fire,” he sang.