Jace
Rhett and Paige watch me pace across the living room and pat Layla’s butt. I have her cocooned in one of those baby wraps that straps her to my chest. It’s handy.
“Frank’s gonna be here any minute, so play it cool.” I rub my temple where there’s a steady throb. “And whatever you do, don’t be intense with Rory. Our agreement is hanging by a razor-thin thread. I’m afraid she’s gonna spook, and then I’ll be up shit creek again.”
I wish I had her confidence, but I know this is crazy. Normal people don’t just pick up their lives and live on a bus for the entire summer.
A minute later, Rory’s vintage blue Beetle pulls up to the house. I peek through the blinds. “She’s right on time.” That’s a good sign. Not only for what this means for my tour, but my kid too. I want someone I can trust to take care of Layla.
I open the front door before she knocks. “Hey.” I think I scare her because she jumps back. “Sorry. Come in.” I’m kinda losing my shit. I hope she doesn’t notice. “Cool ride.”
She gives me a hesitant smile. “Bluebell belonged to my mom.”
I smile, loving that she named her car.
Today, Rory’s wearing one of her cute long dresses, all buttoned up the front, and her brown hair is up in a twisty thing. Her eyes aren’t swollen anymore. That’s good. She’s even wearing makeup that makes her pretty hazel eyes pop.
She’s beautiful. In a quiet, almost understated way. I dig it. She’s got curves in all the right places. And she doesn’t throw herself at me. I like that too. If anything, I’d say she didn’t like me at first but has come around to tolerating me. It makes me wonder what I need to do to win her over.
Plus, she has great taste in music.
And I like that she’s—
Jesus Christ, no. I’m not gonna think of her as an attractive woman. Because that never works out well for me. Rory is my kid’s nanny. That’s it. That’s all we’ll ever be.
She and I stare at each other. Do I hug her? Shake her hand? Pat her on the back?
Fuck, I’ve never not known what to do with a woman before, but I’m at a loss right now. If we were friends, I’d hug her, but now I probably need to be more professional if I’m her boss. Is that how she’ll view me? As an authority figure? God, I’m gonna be sick.
She glances behind me. “Can I come in?”
Shit. “Yeah, of course.” I hold open the door.
Paige comes to the rescue and pulls her into a hug, frowning at me over her friend’s shoulder. She mouths, “Relax!”
I suck in a few deep breaths and park my ass in the rocker before I mess this up.
It’s fine. Everything’s fine. This is no big deal. Frank’s gonna show up, he’ll tell me this is a great idea, and we’ll be good to go.
Rhett and Paige do the small talk thing with Rory while I quietly lose my mind.
When Frank arrives a few minutes later, I’m thinking maybe I should step outside so I can hurl in the bushes.
I manage to keep my act together, but once we’re all sitting around the living room, Frank pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Jace, tell me you have a plan to salvage this tour. Did you find someone to watch the kid while you’re gone? ”
“What would you think if I got a nanny?”
“Great. Solves all our problems.”
Thank fuck. “Awesome. Because Rory said she could swing it.”
He barely glances at her. “Great. Whatever you need to do. As long as you’re on that bus when we leave in two weeks.” He grabs a binder and rifles through it. “I need you to sign the contract.”
Something about what he says makes me wonder if he understands what I’m suggesting.
Layla jerks in my carrier, and I pat her butt to settle her.
Thankfully, she knocks out again. “Frank, just to be clear, I’m bringing my daughter with me.
And Rory too, so she can take care of the baby when I have shows or rehearsals. ”
He sputters like I insulted his mother. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not? I can’t be the only musician on the planet who brings his kid with him on tour. Didn’t I read somewhere that Dave Grohl took his four children on tour?”
He snorts. “You’re not Dave Grohl.” Ouch. “Look, Jace, you know I love you, and I’ll always go to bat for you, but the label is not gonna be flexible about this.”
“How do you know? Couldn’t you ask?”
“I already did for Cooper. He wanted his girlfriend to join us for a leg of the tour, and the label said no due to liability. Their insurance is strict about this. There’s only one exception to the rule.”
Shit. “What’s the exception?”
He studies Rory for a minute and turns back to me.
“If you’re married, your baby might be able to come with your spouse if the spouse can contribute to the tour somehow, selling merch or doing your social media.
That sort of thing. But if she’s just a bump on a log, the label is gonna reject your request outright.
And even if you could swing everything else, you’ll have to sign a shitload of waivers. ”
Paige leans forward with a giant, cheerleader grin. “Rory does social media for the library.”
“What?” Rory’s eyes go saucer-wide. “Are you—are you suggesting I marry Jace? So I can babysit?”
My sister-in-law shrugs and leans over to kiss Rhett on the cheek. “It’s not the craziest idea I’ve ever heard.”
I blow out a breath. Maybe not the craziest, but definitely hovering in the same zip code. Sure, it worked out for Paige and my brother, but they’re obviously the exception to the rule. Side note—Paige is enjoying this way too much.
Fuck. This can’t be the end. But Rory will never go for this if the idea of being a nanny makes her skittish.
Think, Jace. Think.
“What if we just say we’re married?” I glance at Rory, who looks like I’m asking her to pump my blood into a vial and wear it around her neck. “Are they gonna check our wedding certificate?”
Waving a finger between me and Rory, Frank chuckles. “No one who knows you will believe this little arrangement. Besides, if the label does want your marriage certificate and you don’t have it, that’s gonna make me look like an asshole. So no, I won’t do that.”
Rory holds up her hand like she’s asking a question in class. “What if I drove separately? I could drive Layla and meet up with you at each stop. At least that way, you could see her every day.”
I hate that idea. I want the girls close by so I can be there if they need me. “I don’t know if—”
Frank shrugs. “That’s not the worst idea I’ve heard. You still can’t sleep on the bus. You’ll have to find other accommodations.”
This is starting to piss me off. “Come on, Frank. You and I both know that’s bullshit. How is it that I could have a groupie in my bed every night, but you won’t let Rory come?”
“The difference is I kick out groupies before we hit the road. I’ve already heard an earful about this from Bandit.
Guess some girl got drunk, slammed into a cabinet when the bus was on the road, and got a concussion.
Caused the label a huge headache. So now, there are no groupies on the buses when they’re in motion. ”
The girl caused everyone a headache? Guess no one cares about the injuries she got when she fell.
I scramble to think of something else I can do to make it work and draw a big fat blank.
Well, fuck.
Guess I’m out of options.
I can barely cough up the words. “I’ll call the guys to let them know I’m out.” I hug my daughter a little tighter. Because I won’t leave her behind.
Frank’s jaw drops open. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m as serious as that heart attack you had two years ago. It’s me, my kid, and my nanny, or I can’t go.”
His face turns red. “You’ve been singularly focused on your band for ten years, Jace.
This baby has been in your life for, what, a week?
Please tell me you’re not gonna throw away an opportunity of a lifetime because you probably won’t get another chance.
This is it. I didn’t bust my ass all this time to have you waver at the finish line. ”
Guilt swells in my gut. Frank’s been one of my biggest supporters. “I’m sorry I’m letting you down. I just can’t leave my daughter for months while I go on tour. It kills something in my soul to even consider it.”
“Think of all the things you’ll be able to buy her if this tour goes well. Think of the future you’ll be able to provide her.”
“I can’t think of a damn thing that will excuse abandoning her.” Like her mother. Like my mother.
Rory and Paige start whispering back and forth on the couch.
I feel bad dragging this girl into my bullshit.
Might as well cut my losses here. “Rory, thanks for coming today. I really appreciate you trying, and I’m sorry this isn’t gonna work out.
If I’m not going on tour, I’m happy to help you find a new apartment. I’ll make some calls. See if anyone—”
“Can I talk to you?” She points behind her. “In private?”
Um. “Sure. Yeah. Come on.”
She follows me to my bedroom. Why’d I bring her here? It’s full of baby crap and gear. I close the door behind us. “Please ignore the mess. I swear I’m not always a slob.”
“Just when your world feels like it’s ending?” she asks softly.
“Something like that.” Because my world genuinely seems fucked right now.
I shove shit off my small desk and offer her the chair.
Since Layla is knocked out, I unwrap her from the carrier on my chest and place her in the crib, which used to be another twin bed that Mav slept on before he got hitched.
Rory studies my stuff while she fidgets. Her eyes drift to the crib where Layla’s sleeping. “What’s her schedule like? Does she go down easily at night or is it a battle?”
I blink. Of all the things I expected her to ask me right now, that wasn’t one of them. “She’s had a tough time at night. It takes a while for her to settle. But once she’s out, she’s usually good for a few hours.” I pause. “Why?”
“Because if I’m going to do this, I want to do it right. For her.”
Something about those words loosens a knot I didn’t know I was carrying. “That makes sense.” Wait. Is she considering this?
Rory presses her hands down her dress. “I can’t do anything about how I look, but—”
“What does that mean?” I frown and sit on my twin bed.
She shrugs. “I can’t change my librarian vibe. Your manager said no one would believe that we were together, and I agree.”
“That’s bullshit. He’s talking out his ass. I don’t have a type.”
She gives me a look like I’m full of crap. “If I marry you, I need you to promise me two things. You know, assuming you want to marry me so I can be your nanny.”
Holy fuck. She’s actually open to getting hitched. I press the palms of my hands into my eyes. Did I have an aneurysm in the living room? “If you marry me, I will fall on my knees and kiss your feet. So yes, I will promise you whatever you want.”
Rory looks like someone is forcing her to walk the plank at gunpoint. Not to be vain, but most women I know would be happy as hell to lock me down.
Not that I’m husband material. Or even boyfriend material. I’m a good time. Someone to throw back a few beers and work out some sexual tension with.
Rory’s a smart woman. She obviously knows I’m not worth the effort.
She nods slowly. “I need you to swear you’ll never do anything to embarrass me. If we get married, you can’t screw groupies every night while pretending to be married to me. I’m just afraid that will get around, and I can’t han—”
“Done.” That’s not even a big promise. “What else?”
She chews the inside of her cheek. “Paige mentioned the tour goes through Dallas, and I think it’s the same weekend my stepsister’s getting married. She and I… we don’t speak, but my family is pressuring me to go.”
“And you want me to go and be a great husband? So we can steal her thunder and make her look like the asshole she is?” I make a few assumptions there, but they’re the right ones because Rory cracks a smile.
“Maybe.”
“Done.” Jesus, I owe this woman. I hold out my hand, and she hesitantly places her small one in my palm. “You’re saving my ass right now. I don’t know how I’ll ever make this up to you.”
She swallows, suddenly looking shy again. “I’m not being altruistic. You’re paying me, remember?”
I squeeze her hand. “Probably not enough.”
Am I really gonna marry the town librarian so she can babysit my kid and go on tour with me?
Why, yes. Yes, I am.