Chapter Twenty
Twenty
JJ
I stared into his eyes, searching for a hint of what he truly wanted... of what I should say. Thank God his phone interrupted us because I might’ve done something stupid, like tell him I was already in love with him and wanted every broken piece of him for real, to hell with our agreement.
He looked at the caller ID and sighed. “Sorry, I have to take this.”
I moved to the kitchen to make myself some tea, but I couldn’t help hearing some of his call. “Hey, Doc.” His voice was low and emotional, tender even, like he was holding her broken heart in his hand. “How are you doing?” He listened for a minute, and I held my breath while I set my water to boil. “No, I insist. Please let me do it. After everything you’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do.” He listened for a moment longer and I pulled out a mug and teabag. “It’s just money, Doc, and I have plenty of it, so please, let me pay for the funeral. I want to.”
I paused, my brows lifted.
His words were filled with genuine emotion, surprising me. I knew he had a big heart under all those tattoos and leather, but... wow.
When he hung up and joined me, I turned to him. “You paid for the funeral?”
He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed that I’d heard that. “It’s the least I could do. She’s helped me more than I can say.”
My heart swelled with a mix of emotions. I was moved by how incredibly sweet and thoughtful he was and by how much he had changed in the short time I’d known him.
“Anyway,” he said, obviously wanting to change the subject, “the band has a small gig tonight at the bar where we got our start. We wanted to try out some songs from the new album on a live crowd. I’d really like it if you came with me.”
I hesitated for a moment. We both knew this was something altogether more than our marriage for publicity. This was us coming out to his friends.
I nodded, offering him a smile as warmth settled over me at the thought. “Of course, I’d love to.”
He smiled back. “Sweet.”
Later, as I dressed, I took extra care with my appearance, sudden and unexpected nerves tickling my belly. I didn’t want to be JJ the publicist in power suits and buns who could run a room, though there was nothing wrong with that. For tonight, I wanted to be Jemma. A rock star’s wife. I wanted to show everyone that I belonged by his side, so I spent extra time on my hair and makeup, and finally settled on black leather pants, a blue blouse that showed off my cleavage, and black peek-a-boo heels that showed off my red toenails.
The look on his face when I came out of the bedroom made all the prep totally worth it.
“Holy shit, JJ.” He whistled under his breath. “Are you trying to kill me?”
I sidled up to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, smiling up at him seductively. “Maybe later?”
He grinned down at me. “Promise?”
I toyed with the long length of his raven hair as his dark eyes ate me up. “Maybe. Guess we’ll see how good you play tonight.”
He spun us until he had me shoved against the closest wall, his hard length along the front of my body, pinning me in the most delicious ways. “I’ll play you right now, if you keep teasing me, Mrs. Santorini.”
My entire body lit up like a firecracker at his dark promise and the way he called me Mrs. Santorini. I loved belonging to him. Something in me craved it like I’d never craved anything else. It was a dangerous thing to need him like I did. I had no idea what was wrong with me, but I had no real desire to be fixed. Not if it meant he’d keep looking at me like he was looking at me right now.
He smirked and nipped my lower lip. “Come on, baby. We gotta go or I’ll miss the gig and the guys will skin me alive.” He grabbed my hand and led me toward the door. “You can have your dirty way with me later.”
We were laughing when we piled into his Corvette and drove to the small club that already had a line of fans halfway down the block, waiting to get inside.
He parked and led me in through a back entrance, sliding down a narrow hallway that smelled of sweat and stale beer. I squeezed his hand, feeling more nervous than I had anticipated, but I stood tall by his side and ignored the groupies lining the hall, blatantly staring at him like they already knew they’d get a taste of him later. As if.
In a back room, we met up with the rest of the band, and he introduced me to Cohen’s fiancée, Georgia. Gorgeous with her voluptuous curves, she had a riot of blond curls and green eyes that sparkled when she smiled, which she did a lot. We hit it off instantly.
“You good, baby?” Nico asked, his mouth near my ear. “We’re about ready to head out for sound check.”
I nodded.
“We’ll be fine,” Georgia assured him. “We’ll find a table, order a couple drinks, and talk girl talk, won’t we, JJ?”
“Sounds good.”
He smiled, seemingly happy we were getting along. “Have fun.” He leaned in and kissed me like no one was watching, and I couldn’t find it in me to care. I tangled my fingers in his hair and lost myself in him like I always did.
When he pulled back, he was grinning. He tipped his head at Georgia, then loped off with the rest of the guys.
I caught the way Sebastian’s eyes lingered on me, full of questions. I’m sure he wondered what was going on between us and didn’t want anything to derail Nico’s sobriety... least of all me, the publicist who was supposed to be helping him.
I offered him a tentative smile, hoping he read my sincerity. I appreciated his protectiveness. Hell, I felt it too. But I also knew nobody could ever understand what Nico and I shared when we could barely understand it ourselves.
“Come on.” Georgia linked our arms and led me out to the main part of the club, where we found the table reserved for us. We sat and ordered drinks, then started chatting like old friends about our work and how we met the guys.
“So...” she said. “You and Nico, huh?” But she said it with no malice, just genuine curiosity.
“Yeah. It happened kinda fast.”
She laughed loudly. “You could say that.” She thanked the waitress who had brought us our drinks and took a sip. “More like at the speed of light.”
I laughed too. “Yes.”
Her gaze roamed up to the stage as the guys moved out to their place. “But I guess, with what I know about Nico, that’s how he rolls, isn’t it?”
I didn’t bother answering, my eyes locked on him as he took his seat behind his drum kit. I appreciated that she hadn’t bothered saying anything about our marriage being a media stunt. She simply treated it like we were for real, like her and Cohen, and that felt good.
I took another drink and leaned in. “So, how’s the wedding planning going?”
Her eyes lit up at my question. “Fast, furious, and exhausting, but great.”
“When’s the big day?”
“This summer. I want to be able to get married outside on my family’s ranch.” She went on to describe a simple but elegant affair with lots of country flair but plenty of romantic touches in her choices of a designer gown, gobs of white and pale-pink flowers, and their star-studded guest list. And, of course, she was going to walk down the aisle to a song Cohen had composed just for her.
“That all sounds amazing.”
Her smile rivaled the sun. “It will be. But Nico’s a groomsman, so you’re gonna be there.”
I swallowed, trying to wrap my brain around the idea. Yes, it was what I’d hoped for... the thought Nico and I had been dancing around. But was it a real possibility?
Some noisy fans caught our attention as they began to notice them on the stage, and even more crowded into the bar for the show. As more and more people showed up, the club atmosphere became electric. Energy buzzed as people stomped and screamed, chanting their names. And through it all, Nico had never smiled bigger. He was clearly in his element.
When the show started, I watched him with newfound appreciation. The energy in the club was palpable, and the entire band seemed to feed on it. I’d worked with plenty of rich and famous people in my line of work, but this was my first real taste of Zero Energy’s fame, and it was so much more than I had imagined. It was so much more magnetic.
“We’ve been working on a new album for you,” Corey said into the mic, making the crowd shriek in delight. “We were hoping to share a few of our new songs with you, see if you like them. Would that be alright?”
The crowd went bonkers, shouting and lifting their beer bottles in solidarity with Corey.
He smiled and nodded, looking back at Nico, who tapped his drumsticks together to mark out a beat before moving them into a loud hard rock song.
I sipped my drink and smiled at Georgia, because it was too loud for us to talk anymore.
Every once in a while, the guys would catch our eyes, and the silent communication made me feel like I was a part of this fun little family—someone on the inside—and that made me feel warm and special.
At a lull in the music, while Corey was talking to the crowd about something, a group of women in varying colors of spandex dresses made their way over to our table.
“Are you the wives?” one of them asked, her heavily made-up eyes sliding down to the diamond on my left hand.
Georgia kept her face impassive. “Are you ?”
The groupie’s painted eyebrows furrowed. “No.”
“Awww...” Georgia made sure her own large rock was displayed when she lifted her drink to her lips. “Then I guess it’s none of your business who we are.”
The women gawked at us in shock.
I bit back a smirk, my gaze sliding over to my husband as he hit his cymbal, signaling another song. “If you don’t mind, ladies...” I glanced back. “You’re blocking the view.”
They huffed before stomping away.
Georgia began to cackle and clinked her glass to mine.
“That happen a lot?” I asked.
“More than I’d like to admit. I let it get to me for a while at first, but now I just screw with them for fun. Cohen and I have a good thing, and I trust him. It won’t work any other way.”
I nodded in agreement, letting my mind soak in her words. She was right. I had to trust him. I couldn’t overthink things. If all we had was temporary, then that had to be okay. If it was more than that, what an unexpected gift. Just having had this time with him—being touched by him, body and soul, had been so special. I couldn’t regret it, no matter what happened in the end.
I threw back a couple more drinks and enjoyed the hell out of the rest of the show, especially after the pressure cooker of the last few weeks in Tennessee and all the work I’d been drowning myself in remotely. I let loose, dancing and screaming right along with the crowd and Georgia as we grinned at each other, as if in on a little secret all our own... we were the ones who got to go home with those gorgeous men up there that all the women wanted. Weren’t we the lucky ones?
After two encore performances of some of their older songs, the band thanked the crowd and called it a night.
Before Nico was fully off the stage, I rushed him, high on liquor and the sight of him playing. I threw myself at him, tackling him like a tipsy little linebacker.
Luckily, he caught me with a grin. “Hey there...”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his words away. “You were so good up there,” I murmured against his lips. “So sexy.”
His laugh was low and dark as his hands palmed my ass and drew me against his body, brash and unashamed... because my husband was a fucking rock star who didn’t give a shit who saw us like this, and I loved that.
“Is my wife hot for me?” he gritted out between wet kisses.
I drew back and gazed up into his deliciously dark eyes as he stared down at me with nothing but lusty adoration.
I’m in love with you.
The words sat heavy on my tongue. Soft as snowflakes but just as frozen. I couldn’t speak. Not yet. Not when things were this fragile between us. Not when I still had no idea how he felt about me. This sweet, gentle, broken man, who was utterly wrong and stupidly perfect for me all at the same time deserved the space to breathe and to heal. It was the deal that had sealed our marriage, after all.
“So hot,” I murmured back. “Who knew I had a thing for musicians?”
He tapped my butt and set me down so we could move away from the crowd. “Just this one, I hope.”
I shrugged, earning myself a growl and another ass smack as he tucked me into his side and maneuvered me backstage to meet with the rest of the band, his manager, and a handful of others I couldn’t place.
Georgia was wrapped up in front of Cohen, both of his arms like a cage around her, their four hands laced as he listened intently to their manager, Lance, speak. Watching them, it was so obvious they were in love—the way she naturally swayed with the movement of his body, the tender kisses he placed to her head. A sudden wave of jealousy overtook me, which was so unlike me. Yes, Nico and I were married. And yes, we shared five-alarm hot PDA. I’d even admitted to myself that I loved him... more than I’d ever loved Brody or any other man. But was all that enough? Could we have that? Could we have soft, gentle love that filled the space around us because it was just... real? Tried, true, lived in and lived out, in every way. Not rock star lust and not rehab angst, but something in between. Something like breakfast in bed on rainy Saturday mornings and Thursday night spaghetti dinners with a sprinkle of hot rocker sexy times. Was that too much to ask?
Maybe.
But that was what I wanted, and I was willing to hold out for it.
Nico held me close, one hand slid into the back pocket of my jeans, as he chatted with his bandmates, but it was really hard for me to be tuned in... mostly because this all felt a bit weird. I knew they were wondering exactly how I fit into his life. If I was for real. I also saw the groupies who’d asked if I was the wife lurking in the corner, just waiting for their chance to pounce.
“So, JJ,” Sebastian cut into my thoughts and dragged me back to the present. “Did you enjoy the show?”
I glanced up into his deep hazel eyes. “I did. You guys were great. And I love the new songs.”
I felt Nico’s grin next to me.
“When do you think the album will be done?” I asked.
“We’ve still got a couple songs we’re fine-tuning,” he said, his face cloudy, like the idea was bogging him down. “But we’re hoping to be done before Cohen’s wedding this summer.”
I nodded like I had any clue about what it took to make an album. “Nice.”
Cohen and Georgia turned to us, his arm draped around her shoulders. “So,” he said. “What do you guys think of Lance already floating the Zombeez as the opener for our next tour?”
“The girl band?” Georgia asked.
Cohen nodded.
“I think it’s awesome,” Nico said. “They kick ass and they’ll have another album coming out too. Win-win.”
Sebastian said nothing, his expression suddenly stony, his eyes dark.
“Sebastian?” Cohen prompted.
Sebastian just shook his head, but Corey tilted his head, his face puzzled. “Bro,” he said, “Are we missing something?”
“Not a damn thing,” Sebastian spat as he turned on his heel and walked off.
“What the hell?” Corey looked around at his bandmates in confusion.
“I have no idea,” Cohen answered, turning to Nico, who just shrugged.
Georgia and I exchanged a look. We both knew there could only be one thing that could make a man react that strongly. A woman.
“What the hell ever,” Nico said, turning to me. “You ready to go, babe?”
I nodded.
We said our goodbyes and I hugged Georgia before we left the club.
Nico ignored the women on our way out, making me stupidly happy, then we bundled into his car, and he cranked the heat on our way out.
He grabbed my hand and glanced over as we hit the road. “You wanna stop and grab a bite somewhere? I’m starved.”
I glanced at the time. “Isn’t it late?”
“In LA?”
I laughed, loving this playful, happy version of him. “Okay.”
We ended up at some trendy little bistro, not too far from the strip, that I knew was frequented by celebrities. Our firm represented several of them and my dad had been to more than one lunch meeting there.
Nico pulled up to the curb and hopped out, tossing the valet his keys just as another one opened my door and offered me a hand.
I stepped out and linked fingers with Nico, trying not to feel the eyes on us as we strolled up to the door just like any other couple going out for a late dinner in Los Angeles.
The hostess smiled and took his name, glancing down at her paperwork.
He turned to me with a smile, brushing the hair back from my face. “You look so beautiful tonight,” he murmured. “I think I played even better today because you were there listening.”
Something inside of me lit up at his words. “Yeah?”
“Hell, yeah. I want my wife to be proud of me.”
I knew my smile glowed as I stared up at him because I was bursting at the seams. Pride didn’t seem a strong enough word. “Nico—”
“Mr. Santorini, your table is ready.”
We turned when the hostess called his name and led us into the restaurant to a table by the windows in the back. She handed us our menus after we sat. “Enjoy.”
And we did. I got champagne and he had sparkling water, and he ordered us decadent appetizers. We sipped and ate and laughed and rode the residual high of his show together while the rest of the world went on around us. We eventually ordered dinner and he kissed me over steak and pasta, then we shared a slice of key lime pie. It was perfect. Well... almost.
I glanced up, laughter still on my lips, as a group of men strode in and were seated a few tables away. Recognition hit hard and a block of ice instantly sliced my stomach. My smile fell and I turned to Nico. “You ready to go?”
He frowned, his gaze flicking over to the men whose deep voices were interspersed with low chuckles. “What’s wrong?”
I tugged his hand. “Nothing. I’m just tired. Can we go?”
The line between his eyes deepened. He didn’t believe me, but he moved to stand.
“JJ?”
I closed my eyes and released a slow breath. It was fine. I’d ignore it and just walk away.
But Nico wouldn’t.
“JJ.” The voice was closer now, nearly at our table, and I could feel the tension in Nico as I lifted my eyes to his face, silently begging him to keep his cool.
I slowly turned toward the voice, straightening my spine as I did, and slid a fake smile in place. “Brody. How nice to see you.”
Nico’s body went rigid next to me, so I grabbed his hand and linked our fingers.
Brody’s gaze raked over Nico in an obvious dismissive sweep, clearly not recognizing him or making the statement that he didn’t care, before resting back on me. “You look... different. Lovely though, as always.”
Yes, I thought. No power suit and pearls tonight.
“What brings you to LA?”
“Business.” He tipped his head to his companions. “Meeting with clients of the firm.”
I nodded like I cared, then tugged Nico closer. “Brody, this is my husband, Nico. Nico, this is my ex, Brody.”
“Right,” Brody said, not bothering to offer a hand, basically turning up his nose. “Your little PR stunt. How’s that going?”
I frowned, wondering how he knew that, even as my hackles rose. How dare he belittle our marriage when he couldn’t even make it to the altar? When what we had was supposed to have been real?
I leaned in even closer to Nico, partly to keep him from jumping on Brody, and wrapped an arm around his waist. “I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but that’s just not true. Our marriage is one hundred percent real, isn’t it, baby?” I turned and nuzzled into Nico, hoping to tame the angry beast as well as give myself a calming hit of his earthy scent.
“Fuck yes,” Nico growled, his grip on me tight enough to almost hurt.
Brody scoffed, making my blood boil.
It all hit me then, in that moment, in a collision of emotion.
The pain Brody had caused, the turmoil and uncertainty I felt about my future with Nico. The loss. The love. The possibility.
“Yes,” I insisted, not sure who I needed to convince more. “In fact...” I gripped Nico’s hand tightly and placed it low over my belly. “We’re hoping to start a family soon.” I shrugged. “We might have already.” I smiled at Brody’s wide eyes, knowing I’d hit my mark. “Not that I have to explain myself to you.”
I spun in Nico’s embrace and looked up into his stunned gaze. “Ready?”