4. Jace
JACE
“One more song, Jace!” someone screams.
It’s another Saturday night in another bar. But we’re hitting all the right notes, synced in a way only a band that’s played together for a decade can be, and the crowd feels it.
“One more, huh? I think we’re supposed to wrap it up.” I glance back at the guys as though we haven’t planned the finale. “Fuck it, let’s do another.”
The girls scream again as Cooper hits the floor tom, and I feel that deep rumble in my chest. I nod with the beat, and when I play the familiar riff on my guitar, the shouts grow.
“You might know this song. If you do, sing along.” Sweat stings my eyes, and the tips of my fingers ache from practicing all afternoon and playing tonight, but there’s no high like the one you get from a great show, and I ride the wave of adrenaline.
“This one’s called ‘Red Light.’” I used to resent that this was the song everyone wants to hear, but I’m over it now.
Everyone sings to the chorus.
Red light, red flag
What’s the difference, baby
We’re bad for each other
And this crash is gonna be crazy
My mind usually wanders to Marlowe at some point when I sing these lyrics. But instead of those proud baby blues, I see scared hazel eyes.
I play the outro by rote as I think about last Monday. What if I hadn’t been standing a few feet away from Rory and noticed the crack in the ceiling a second before it collapsed?
I almost wince when I remember her words, that I ignore her. Frankly, I didn’t think she’d notice. At least, I’d hoped she wouldn’t. I was doing her a favor. If she knew me, she’d understand that.
Last year, I was in a weird place. I was trying to get a handle on being abstinent and cutting back on partying. Now that I’m in control, I can talk to her like a normal human.
But I hate that I hurt her feelings.
“I fucking love you, Jace!” the woman in the front row screams after I fade out on the last note.
“Thank you, sweetheart. And thanks for coming tonight. Appreciate y’all.”
As we head off the stage, Shane slaps my back. “That chick with the great rack was eye-fucking you the whole time. Please tell me you’re gonna break your fast soon. Might as well have some fun before we call it quits.”
My band hasn’t accepted that I’m not the fuckboy I used to be. While, yes, I could use a release after a show, I’m done with casual hookups.
I’d be open to a friend with benefits if I could find the right person.
But how do you ask someone if they’re down to fuck on the semi-regular with no strings except maybe a few beers and some Netflix?
In my experience, women want one night with you or they want forever.
What I need is someone willing to walk that middle ground.
I replay Shane’s words. The part that bothers me more than the hard-on I often sport after a gig is his assumption that Wayward Sons is done at the end of the summer.
Once we’re back in the green room, I drop to the floor to do push-ups before I start packing up our shit. When Frank ducks his head in a few minutes later, I’m prepared for the worst—that the A&R guy didn’t show up. But my heart betrays me once again and knocks in my chest.
Fuck, I want this to happen. I need the last decade of my life to have meant something.
I expect Frank’s usual somber expression, but he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat after smoking a giant joint.
He rubs his hands together. “I got some news, fellas. Hold on to your britches.”
It’s not the end of the world if this doesn’t happen. We still have a few more months. There’s time. “The guy showed up.”
Frank points to me. “He showed up.”
Fuck yes. “And he liked our set.”
“He loved your set.”
I close my eyes, grateful we had a good show. I take one more leap of faith. “And he’s ready to sign us.”
“Not quite.”
Son of a bitch.
The guys’ expressions fall, and Cooper curses under his breath and grabs his drum case.
Frank holds out his arms. “Hang on now. I know we’re angling for a record deal, but I have something else that’s almost as good.”
Coop scrubs his face with a grimy hand. “I need something that’s gonna pay the rent for once.”
“Done.”
That gets everyone’s attention.
Frank crosses his arms and leans back against the doorframe. “How would you guys like to open for Garrett Gamble? He needs one more band for his tour, and you fit the bill.”
Holy shit. Garrett Gamble is a country legend.
Shane’s mouth drops open. “Are you serious?”
“Son, do I ever joke?” Frank rubs his paunchy stomach.
“Never.”
“Bandit Records wants to sign you, but they need two things from you, aside from great performances on the tour. One, you need to beef up your social media presence.”
I’ve always known that’s my weak spot, but between working on the ranch, booking our shows, and getting merch made, I haven’t always consistently posted online. But I’ll make it my mission to do better. “Done. What else?”
He nods slowly as he gives me a pointed look. “And they want more songs like ‘Red Light.’”
Fuck.
I run my hands through my damp hair to buy myself a moment. “Yeah, more songs like ‘Red Light.’ Cool.” Not cool. Really not fucking cool, but I’ll figure it out.
Because what’s the alternative? Turning down the offer? Screw that.
I grin, turning up the wattage so my friends believe it. “So I guess we’re going on tour.”
A second later, Shane howls in celebration, and Cooper jumps on Derek, our keyboardist.
I hold out my hand to shake Frank’s, then pull him into a hug, because this dude has always fought for us. “You’re awesome, man. We love you.”
Chuckling, he slaps my back. “Glad you’re happy, Jace. You’re really talented.” He points to the guys. “Get your shit packed. We hit the road in just over three weeks.”
Jesus, that fast? “Pamela Vanderson needs work.” My van is running on fumes and prayers. “I’m not sure she’ll handle crisscrossing the state again without some new brakes.”
Frank blows out a breath. “We’ll need to go farther than that. The tour kicks off in Florida, and it crisscrosses the country.”
Don’t freak out. If I have to sell a kidney to get my van up to speed, I’m gonna make this work.
“Good news is, you don’t need Pamela.” Frank’s Cheshire Cat grin returns. “’Cause you’re getting a tour bus.”
Relief almost knocks me to the ground, and I laugh as I yank him into a headlock. “You asshole. You wanted to torture me.”
He laughs and shoves me off. “Maybe a little. Payback for having sex in the back seat of my car.”
“That’s probably the most action your car has ever gotten.” Not to mention a long time ago.
He snorts. “You’re not wrong.”
I’m so damn psyched, I barely sleep that night. I can’t shut off my mind. I keep jumping out of bed and writing notes in my spiral notebook of things we’re gonna need on the road.
The next morning, I find Rhett, Paige, and the kids sitting at the table, eating waffles.
“Might I partake?” I ask even though I know the answer.
Paige is already handing me a plate piled high.
“Thank you, my favorite sister-in-law. Shit, I can’t say that anymore.
I forget about Baylee sometimes,” I say as I shovel food in my mouth.
“And Honey soon, huh?” I can’t believe three of my four brothers are gonna be married.
I shiver at the thought. Knowing myself, I can safely say I’m not the marrying type. One woman forever? That feels more like a prison sentence than a happily ever after.
But as I look at Rhett, who’s damn near obsessed with Paige, I know that’s not how he feels. Mav and Beau are both stupidly in love with their gals too. I don’t know about Isaiah anymore, but long ago, I thought he’d marry Liberty.
I think I’m the odd man out here.
Gabe points to the curse jar, and I shove a dollar into it without argument. “You’re our best customer this week,” Gabe says.
“Glad to keep you in business.” After I jam a slice of bacon in my mouth and swallow it down with some juice, I hold up my glass. “Got some news.”
Rhett sets down his coffee. “Good or bad?”
My oldest brother is the glue that’s kept this family together since I was a kid, and I think he’s always braced himself for bad things to happen. Because, well, we were feral children. “Good. Really good.” I can’t hide my grin. “Guess who’s going on the All In tour this summer?”
“Congrats,” he says cautiously.
I already know what he’s thinking. “It’s a paid gig. We’re even getting a tour bus. If things go well, Bandit Records is gonna offer us a record deal in August.” His brows lift as I rattle off the bands.
“You’re touring with Garrett Gamble? Hell, yeah!” He pushes out of his chair, and I’m already out of mine. He’s built like a lumberjack, and he lifts me off the ground with a hard pat to my back. “Way to go, brother. Proud of you.”
Everyone peppers me with questions. When does it start? How many stops? What will we get paid? I share as much as I know.
The news spreads fast. Twenty minutes later, Beau and Honey arrive, and within the hour, Maverick and Baylee come over with celebratory cookies.
Even Isaiah, our long-lost brother, manages to drag himself and his kid out of the Airstream to see what’s going on.
We sit around the living room, and I pull up the tour info on my phone. “Looks like we’re playing in Austin in June and in Dallas a week later. I’m guessing I could get y’all tickets if anyone wants to come.”
Rhett looks like a proud dad. “Don’t worry if you can’t get them comped. We’re happy to pay. Let us know which show you want us to go to.”
I’m so fucking jazzed, I could probably levitate right now if I tried.
Mav yanks me into a side hug. “Proud of you, boogerface. I always knew you’d do it.”
Beau gets out his phone and starts taking photos of us. Mav and I grin like two little kids.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.
I’m about to ask if there are any more cookies left when someone knocks on the door.
Rhett’s closest to it, so he gets up to answer. He calls to me over his shoulder. “Jace, someone’s here for you.”
I hop off the couch, still riding the high of what this means for my life, when I see my brother’s hard expression. His smile is gone, his jaw is tight, and his shoulders look like he’s bracing himself for hurricane winds. “What’s up?”
When I reach the doorway, I spot the pretty blonde on the other side of it. “Hey.” She doesn’t look familiar, but I smile. “How’s it going?”
She sniffles and crosses her arms. “Not good, Jace.”
Lots of girls come to my shows, but it’s strange she tracked me down uninvited. “Do, I, um, do I know you?”
Her expression flattens, and Rhett sighs and gives me a nudge. What am I missing right now? He motions down, and I follow his eyes.
To the baby in the car seat at her feet.
The woman sniffles again. “She’s yours, Jace, and I need you to take her, or I’m giving her up for adoption.”
That’s when the ground drops out from under me.