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Page 13


  “You never told us your story, boss,” Sawyer said with a genuine smile.

  “Yeah? What is said here stays here,” the Captain stated. “I don’t need anyone scrutinizing my life.”

  “We hear you, boss,” Garcia offered.

  Boone shifted. “Last girlfriend I had was a real ballbuster. She considered herself top dog. I tried to live that way, even getting engaged, but we also fought like cats and dogs. So much so that our relationship ended with her wrecking my truck on purpose.”

  “Ouch,” Garcia whispered. “At least my story isn’t that dramatic.”

  Stoker eyed his friend. They’d never shared intimate details of any relationship other than the usual banter regarding sexual appetites. He remained uncomfortable, unsure if the group was even a good idea, let alone his membership.

  “Women need rules. Men are supposed to be head of their kingdom,” Antonio added.

  Stoker wasn’t certain if the guy was kidding or not, but he suspected there was a significant story behind the chip on the asshole’s shoulder. What the hell did he care?

  “We all have stories to tell and we can become better men because of them.” Sawyer’s words echoed in the small space.

  The entire group remained quiet, some drinking beer while others looked away.

  “Whoa. Hold on. What Sawyer is saying is true. Even our career choice is tough on a relationship. A lot of anger and frustration, if you know what I mean,” Garcia chided as he glanced at Antonio. “We’re informal, but as you can imagine, if word got out about our discussions, I think we might be run out of town.”

  “If word got out to this bar, Shannon would kick your respective asses,” Stoker stated. When the men remained quiet, he shrugged. “I’ll think about what you’ve said. At this point, I don’t have a relationship and don’t see myself in one for a long time.”

  Garcia raised his eyebrows, a grin riding his face. “If the way you were looking at that pretty rock star is any indication, I’d say you have two weeks tops before you’re flat out in love.”

  “Ooh, la, la.”

  “You go!”

  Stoker seethed. “Captain Phillips, I’ll give you my formal answer tomorrow. Thank you for your consideration.” He turned toward Garcia. “I’ll talk to you later.” The discussion wasn’t going to be one that his buddy enjoyed. No one was going to railroad him into anything, career, club or love affair.

  Jessica didn’t mind sitting alone except when the local yokels continued to find their way to her table. She sipped on her merlot, watching the ice in Stoker’s glass melt. She had no idea what was going on behind closed doors and wasn’t certain she wanted to know. At least there was music, if you could call the rather horrendous renditions of popular songs being mutilated by people who should never sing in public music.

  After glancing at her watch, she sat back in her seat and absently rimmed the glass with the tip of her finger, observing the crowd. She had to admit, folks seemed happy, content in their skin. Bars like this didn’t exist in the cities she and the band had played. Then again, she’d been taken to rock clubs, where kids in their early twenties had taken a crash course in their concept of dancing, otherwise known as bump and grind. Chuckling, she noticed Shannon and had to admire her way with the patrons.

  The voluptuous redhead had fiery green eyes and an attitude to match. Shannon obviously wasn’t afraid to boot out unwelcome guests or stop a conversation when necessary. If she stayed, they could be friends. The thought was interesting. What if she stayed? She had nothing to go home to. While she’d need to call the bank in the morning, beg for additional time to pay her mortgage, she wasn’t certain she had anything of value that she cared about. She could fill two suitcases with belongings that mattered. How sad.

  “I know you,” Shannon said as she eased over to Jessica’s table. “You’re with Fringe, or was anyway. Right?”

  “News travels fast,” Jessica said through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, honey, don’t worry about the crap they’re saying about you. I’m certain the press exaggerated what happened.”

  “Do I want to know?”

  “Probably not,” Shannon mused, her eyes twinkling. “I pay attention given I actually hire bands occasionally.” She looked over at the man on stage, frowning and shaking her head. “I tried to remove karaoke night and was almost hogtied and run out of town.”

  “Interesting town.” Jessica sighed. She realized her curiosity would get the better of her regarding just how far she was slammed in the press. She could imagine the headlines.

  Shannon leaned over. “Saved my ass. That much I can tell you. Missoula has a wonderful way of cutting through the bullshit, allowing you to find out what’s important in your life. You know what I mean?”

  “Never thought I’d have to start over.”

  “The way I look at it is that if you’re given the opportunity to do something different, create a new life for yourself, then you’re blessed. So many people move from day to day, year to year doing the same boring things, angry that they married the wrong person or hate their jobs. I had nothing when I came here. Five thousand dollars to my name, a broken-down Camaro and a bad attitude. Found this place by chance. The restaurant had been boarded up for almost four years. For some crazy reason, I knew I’d found my calling. I had a local believe in me and here we are.” Shannon grinned.

  Jessica exhaled and glanced at several of the tables, men and women holding hands, gazing into each other’s eyes. Even the singers, who couldn’t carry a tune, were happy, laughing and smiling. When was the last time she’d let herself go, enjoying life just because? “I don’t know if there’s any location or person that can help fix what’s broken inside me.”

  Shannon groaned and shook her head. “Listen to me. You have to believe in you, the woman inside. If you don’t, nothing will ever matter and no one else will believe in you. My secret, woman? Find love.”

  “Oh no! That’s a killing weapon.”

  “Come on, sugar. Love of the land. Love of the amazing animals here. Love of the people, who are amazing and so good.” Winking, she shot a look over her shoulder as Stoker approached. “My bet is you’re going to find love of the heart and soul; especially given the way the man looks at you.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Jessica bit her lip. “He thinks I’m a bossy brat, at best.”

  “True love, honey. Stoker is an amazing man, but you need to understand a few things about him before you can chip away at the ice man.”

  “Okay.” ‘Ice man’ was an appropriate phrase.

  “He’s hurt, damaged and many say beyond repair. I say bullshit. He’s also lonely and I have a feeling you could be very good for him. Just don’t push too hard. Any excuse he’ll grab onto and fall into his private hell all over again.” Shannon patted her hand before walking away.

  A shiver trickled down Jessica’s spine. She watched his approach, his swagger so much like a man, and thought about Shannon’s words. A good man. Well, she didn’t have the ability to fix anyone. She was far too damaged herself.

  “Behaving?” Stoker asked, a sheepish look on his face. He slid into the seat, immediately grabbing the drink.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Sure,” he said as he shrugged. “Just talking with the smokejumpers. They really want me to join.”

  “Do you want to?”

  “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” Stoker stared off, his face pinched.

  Jessica eased to the edge of her seat. She was nervous around him, even though this wasn’t an actual date. Unsure of her actions, she slid her hand across the table, wrapping her fingers around his.

  Stoker looked down, offering no reaction.

  She was about to pull her hand away when he intertwined his fingers with hers. Biting back a smile, she turned her attention toward the stage and took a sip of wine. When his hand remained two minutes later, she smiled to herself. Maybe she could get through to the man after all.

 
“I don’t know if this will work out,” he said quietly.

  “If what will work out?”

  “Whatever is happening between us.”

  “What is happening?” Jessica dared ask.

  He lifted his head, as his thumb brushed back and forth across her hand. “This connection.”

  “We won’t know if we don’t try.” She wasn’t certain of what she was doing or if her instincts were right, but the current rushing between them was electrifying.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. Thank y’all for being here tonight,” Shannon called out from the stage.

  “Woo hoo!”

  “Glad to be here!”

  The sentiments were repeated, whistles and clapping enveloping the room.

  Shannon waited until the raucous cheering died down. “Haven’t we had some amazing talent here tonight?”

  Jessica laughed. “Some of the guys were pretty good.”

  “You have to be kidding,” Stoker said as he grinned. “I’ve heard all these bozos before. They suck.”

  “Now, don’t forget, you’re voting for the best performer later on in the evening. There’s a big red box near the bar. Just cast your votes and we’ll announce at midnight,” Shannon half shouted over the din of the crowd. “We have a special treat for you tonight, a celebrity in our midst.”

  Jessica raised her eyebrows and looked around the room. “Big country star here?”

  “Hell, if I know,” Stoker mused as he squeezed her hand.

  Why did she have the distinct feeling she was being set up?

  “Now, she may need some coaxing to perform here for us so give a big hand of encouragement for Jessica Dunn of the group Fringe.”

  Slinking down into her seat, heat rose from Jessica’s neck to her face. She’d never been so embarrassed in her life. Her hands clammy, she tingled as the same fear shifted into her muscles. Her throat dry, she wanted to run out the front door and never return. The second she tried to pull her hand away, Stoker’s grip became tight. “I can’t do this.”

  “Why not? You have a wonderful voice,” Stoker said as he gazed into her eyes. “I have no idea what happened back home, but they tell me you need to get right back up on the saddle.”

  “You mean like you did?” She was shocked at the amount of people who seemed to know and appreciate her music. The clapping was almost thunderous.

  His eyes flashed. “My story is a hell of a lot different.”

  “How so, cowboy?” She quipped, raising her voice.

  Shannon pointed toward their table. “Come on, Jessica. Just one song. Anything you’d like to sing.”

  “Do it!”

  “Give us a song.”

  “Fringe. Yay!”

  The words of encouragement didn’t squelch her fears. She remained stiff, her legs shaking. “Please tell her no.”

  Stoker leaned in, until their lips were almost touching. “No. Now, come on. Get up.” He kept his grip and forced her to rise from her seat.

  Another round of applause was met with several cat calls.

  Jessica was going to retch all over the table. There was no doubt. “No!”

  Shaking his head, he muttered under his breath then pulled her away from the table and toward the stage.

  “Don’t you dare do this!” Jessica hissed as she tried to pull away.

  Stoker issued a low-slung growl as he dragged her forward, his long legs pumping. When they reached the stairs leading to the stage, he stopped and placed both hands on her arms. “Look at me.”

  “Why?” Jessica glared at Shannon, who stood wearing a mischievous expression.

  “Because I asked you to.” His smile full of encouragement, he cupped her face. “Just think of everyone in this room in their underwear.”

  The words were so unexpected that she burst into laughter, the silly comment breaking through her wall. “You drive a hard bargain, cowboy. One song.”

  “One song.”

  Sucking in her breath, she walked up the stairs. When she took the microphone from Shannon’s hand, she gave the girl a death stare.

  “We’re thrilled to have you here. Just look through the songs on that box right over there and select whatever you’d like.” Shannon pointed toward the edge of the stage.

  Jessica nodded and had no idea what kind of song she could sing without backup – real backup anyway. She tried to drown out the noise as she flipped through a kiosk of songs. Nothing seemed right. Not a single song was one that she had any feelings about, one way or the other, but she knew a choice had to be made. Resigned to singing bad rock and roll, a country song drew her attention. She knew the artist, had heard the song a couple of times, but the heartwarming piece had never received much airplay. What the hell. She was leaving here in a couple of weeks. If she died of embarrassment tonight, she’d blame one handsome cowboy.

  When she walked to the center of the stage as the song started, the crowd was still noisy, talking and laughing. She closed her eyes and began to sing.

  Stoker remained close to the stage. He had no idea why a woman, who was supposedly a celebrity and famous to boot would have such a difficult time performing, but she was. Jessica was stiff, her hand gripping the microphone as if the metal piece was her lifeline. He was on edge for her, pissed off the locals refused to stop talking. When Shannon exited the stage, he shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “What? Once a singer, always a singer,” Shannon said as she patted him on the shoulder. “She’s a natural. I saw her in concert a few years ago. She has an amazing talent.”

  “Then why is she so terrified right now?”

  “You might ask yourself that same question, Stoker. You’re terrified.”

  He snorted. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  “Except the man inside. This girl just might set you free. If you’ll allow her.” Shannon winked before moving into the crowd.

  Her words stung. Free. The thought was riveting as well as disconcerting. He held out his hand, studying his long fingers. The touch of Jessica’s skin against his, the way their fingers fit together was scintillating. Exhaling, he glared at the table full of men who were ready to jump on the stage, vying for Jessica’s attention. He didn’t want a single man to have anything to do with her. God. He was falling for this girl.

  When she finally settled on a piece and nodded to the crowd, he held his breath. She was glassy-eyed, her hand trembling. What in the hell had happened to the women to break her confidence? As the song began, he was almost certain she wasn’t going to be able to perform.

  He was dead wrong. After the first few bars, the noise all but stopped. As she continued, the entire crowd became mesmerized, their bodies swaying to the beat. He stood in the shadows, mesmerized by her lilting voice, melodic, almost angelic except for the slight husk. The song and her presentation was jaw dropping.

  “Wow. She’s damn good. I never knew she could sing country,” Garcia said as he flanked Stoker’s side.

  He nodded, terrified any noise would break her concentration. By the chorus, she was no longer full of fear, her body stilted. While her eyes remained closed, she was lost in the music, singing a haunting love song he’d heard before on a dark night when he’d hit rock bottom. His entire body was tingling, his heart racing as he watched the woman fight her own demons on stage, he realized he could fall in love with the magical angel.

  As the song ended, Antonio came into view, his eyes narrowed, his expression filled with lust. He noticed Stoker’s position and headed in his direction, the look becoming smug. When the crowd began to cheer, rising from their seats, he leaned over, whispering in Stoker’s ear.

  “I’m going to have her by week’s end. She will be mine.”

  At that moment, Stoker knew he was going to kill the son of a bitch.

  Chapter 8

  Euphoric, Jessica couldn’t wait to exit the stage and find Stoker. She was elated, more excited about singing than she had been in years. Paralyzing terror hadn’t interfered—thi
s time. She stood on her tiptoes, peering into the crowd. Where he disappeared to? He hadn’t even bothered to hear her sing? Incensed, she bristled, deciding she was going to give him a huge piece of her mind.

  “Jessica, you sure sing pretty,” the man said, his face beet red.

  “Thank you. I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” Jessica said as she tried to move past, her eyes searching over and around the scores of men and women.

  “You’re as beautiful as your voice,” another man said as he grabbed her arm.

  Hissing, she sucked in her breath, calming her desire to slam a right hook and nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “I’m going to buy all of your CD’s,” the girl giggled as she clapped her hands.

  “That’s so kind of you.” I hope you can find any on line, because no one has them in stores any longer. Jessica huffed, angry her little voice couldn’t allow her a moment of peace.

  “Beautiful. Just like I thought,” Shannon said as she moved in front of Jessica. When another man reached out, his hand coming dangerously close to Jessica’s breast, Shannon kneed him in the balls. “Get the hell out of my bar, Randy.”

  “Ouch! Shit, Shannon. I was just trying to be friendly,” Randy screeched as his hands flew down in front of his crotch.

  “Yeah? Take your drunk ass home to your wife. Go on. I mean it!” Shannon pointed toward the door.

  “Stuck up, bitch,” Randy said through clenched teeth.

  “That’s it! You’re banned. I’ll make certain everyone in my establishment knows. Now leave before I have my guys kick your ass. Am I making myself clear?” Shannon stood her ground.

  Jessica grinned, feeling almost bad for the poor guy. Almost. “You have a way with men.”

  “You should see me when I’m really pissed,” Shannon retorted. “You can sing in my bar any time. Matter of fact, I could pay you pretty well if you want to consider it.”

  “Tempting, but I’m only going to be here a couple of weeks.” The offer was tempting. She glanced back at the stage, her nerves kicking back in. What if she could work on new material while she was here?

 

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