Chapter Two
Jace
My brother knows how to pick vacation locations. This place is gorgeous. The inside of the main resort is spacious and opulent. And it gets better from there. Outside of the bar is an infinity pool flowing out into the ocean. I’ve seen one in Vegas, but it sure didn’t flow into the ocean.
“Here you go.” The bartender hands me a fruity drink–sans alcohol–with a bright red umbrella.
“Thank you.” I lift the straw to my lips and suck, letting the ice-cold drink freeze my insides. The contrast between the crushed ice and the balmy air causes a jolt in my gut.
“Do you need anything else?” He arches an eyebrow as he nods toward the whiskey bottle on the bar top ledge.
“No.” I shake my head a fraction of an inch. I haven’t drunk a drop of alcohol in over two years. “I’m good.”
“Yes, Sir.” He snatches the bottle into his hand and moves to another customer.
A hand settles on my shoulder as I deposit the drink back onto the bar. “Glad you could make it, Little Man.”
“Little Man?” I grumble as I spin to face my older brother, Landon.
He laughs, making the corners of his eyes crinkle, and hauls me off the stool and into his arms. “You’ll always be Little Man to me.”
“Yeah.” I shake my head and clap his back in a bro hug. There’s no point in fighting it. I’m twelve years younger, and when our mother was killed in a car accident when I was six, he stepped in and raised me until I dropped out of high school at 16. It doesn’t matter that I’m 30, I’ll always be a little man to him. Both our fathers were out of the picture long before Mom died.
He pulls back, clasps my shoulders, and studies me. There’s a flash of concern in his eyes, and I rotate my shoulders. “I’m still clean. I’ve been off coke and booze for over two years. I’m good.” I’d slowed down the two years prior but stopped cold turkey when I moved to Las Vegas.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” I grind my teeth together at the question remaining in his eyes and nod to the drink the bartender deposited in front of me. “It’s alcohol-free.”
Not that I blame him for wondering if I’m telling the truth. I spent years in a blur of late-night partying, playing in dives, snorting coke, and getting drunk off my ass. It’s not like I’m proud of those years, either.
He presses his lips together and stands back. “Good. I’m glad you could come.”
“Thanks for inviting me. I’m sure Carly was on the fence about it.” Landon’s wife has put up with him supporting me and worrying about me since they got together eight years ago, but she can’t be my biggest fan. Hell, I don’t have a biggest fan.
He frowns. “Carly is fine with you being here. Relieved even. You have a larger support system than you think.”
“I realize that.” I clasp the glass in a death grip and take a drink, letting the frozen mixture soothe my nerves.
“Let’s have a seat and catch up. Tell me what’s been going on with you.” He settles onto the barstool next to where I’m standing. There’s no point in arguing with him. We’re on an island, and he paid for my travel expenses and the resort. If I piss him off, I’ll be swimming back.
“How’s the band?”
My stomach clenches, and I instantly regret coming. Lie or tell him the truth? Sweat pops on my forehead. The truth. I’m tired of pretending. “There is no band.” I tap my fingertips on the wooden surface. “We broke up before I moved to Vegas.”
His head tips backward as his brows furrow. “I thought you were in a new band after the one….” He clears his throat. “Well, you know.” He shrugs as heat surges up his neck.
“Yes, I know. After Samantha took off with Jack.”
“Right, after that.” He waves the bartender over and asks for the same drink as me. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t want to bother you with my troubles.” That’s only half of the truth. The rest is that I didn’t want to admit I was a failure at being a failure. I refused to listen to his advice and dropped out of high school to play gigs with the guys I was running with, but all we managed to do was play in seedy bars in front of ten customers in towns the size of ink dots on an old-style folded map. And I couldn’t even succeed at that.
“You know Carly’s ex owns a record lab–”
“No,” my voice is a low growl as I lurch backward, nearly falling off the stool.
As I steady myself, he grabs my shoulder. “I’m fine,” I bark out with more venom than I intended and more than he deserves. “Sorry.” I shake off his hand and stare at my drink. “I’m fine. The band is over. The other guys have all taken off, doing their own thing. Actually, none of them are even in the music business anymore.”
“Okay.” He slowly nods while taking the information in. I should have told him a long time ago. “How’s work? You said something about a job in Vegas.”
“I work security at a nightclub. It’s a high-end club owned by a brilliant woman who treats her employees fairly, and I’m well compensated.” I spin the glass in my hand. “I’m actually the head of her security team.” I have a stable career and make good money. I don’t need anything else. “I played stupid kid games for too long. It was time to grow up.”
“Wow. I didn’t realize you’d become so tightlipped over the years.” He takes a sip of his drink. “And I wasn’t expecting to hear you’d given up on your music dreams. I was hoping you could spend some time with Zoe or her father and discuss strategy. I think they could boost your career. I never understood why you didn’t pursue that angle. It only made sense to pick Fletcher’s brain. And now, with Zoe working for him, she’d be a great resource to talk to.”
“It’s all in the past. I’m not interested in that life any longer.” Even if I was, asking Zoe or her father to back me is out of the question.
He glances down at my feet. “You haven’t settled in yet?”
My luggage is positioned between the bar and my stool. “No. I hoped there’d been a cancellation so I could stay in another bungalow or in the main building. I don’t want to impose on Zayden.” Or Zoe.
“Please.” Landon rolls his eyes. “Zayden won’t be bothered by you at all. The bungalow we put you in has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room and dining room, and a fully stocked kitchen. You won’t even see each other if you don’t want to.”
“Maybe I can check at the front desk to see if there’s anything available.”
“I already have.” Landon’s jaw flexes as he pins me with a glare. “There are no other accommodations. The bungalow is paid for, and we’re not waiting for you to drive over from another resort to eat dinner.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He smiles as I give in. “Good. That’s settled then.” He clutches the drink. “Besides, you’re lucky I’d gotten the last one with the extra bedroom when I reserved the place for Zayden and Zoe. And they’re your niece and nephew, not strangers.”
Niece and nephew? That makes it sound like they’re cute little cherubs with pigtails and braces. Zayden is a vice cop for the Kansas City police force, and Zoe is sin with two legs. I didn’t meet them until they were 15 and 18. In the beginning, Zayden hated my brother and me by association, and Zoe stared at my tattoos like I was the devil under her bed.
Zayden gets along with my brother now, and we’ve developed a friendship over the years that started in my wild days. There’s something about bonding over shots and banging the same chick. There are plenty of women who’ll fuck a singer or a bassist, or a relative of one. They don’t care that the band sucks or that you’re living in a bus down by the river. But they don’t stick around the next morning when all you have to offer is a coffee can to piss in.
And I didn’t want them to stick. Fuck and go. That was my motto.
Then there was Samantha. That was a mess all on its own. The woman was crazy. Did I hate that she and Jack got together? At the time, yes. She snuck behind my back, hooked up with my best friend, and the band went to hell. Now? Not at all.
And that leaves Zoe. Yeah, I’m beyond blessed. A week in paradise with a woman that makes my morals want to take a long hike, and she hates my guts.
“So, tell me about this job.” He guzzles the remainder of the drink. Lucky for him, some of the ice had melted, or he’d have a massive brain freeze.
****
Thirty Minutes Later
The walkway from the resort bar to the bungalows down on the water is peaceful. In the distance, the sun beats down on the ocean causing it to sparkle. The plankway to the gathering of 20 perfectly positioned bungalows is devoid of people.
After the never-ending bustle of Vegas, it’s a welcome change of pace to be here. And the bungalows? They shine like jewels over the water. They’re brown and white structures with blacked-out windows that cover all sides of the buildings. I’m guessing the windows keep the temperatures down inside, as well as disguise whatever vacation letting loose that goes on inside while still allowing the guests to view the gorgeous scenery.
There are a few people wandering around or down by the water, but they’re far enough away that I can’t hear what they’re saying. The tension in my back eases with each subsequent step. I didn’t realize I needed a break this badly. Hell, outside of these family gatherings, I never take time off.
At first, I was trying to make it big, which was a colossal mistake. Then it was because I was dead-ass broke. And now? Now, I want to prove to Everleigh, my boss, that she didn’t fuck up by putting her faith in me.
When I come to the fork in the sidewalk, I turn toward the plankway as a couple approaches. I slip my bags higher onto my shoulder as they pick up the pace. I’m not in the mood for idle chitchat. It’s going to take every ounce of my energy to face Zoe and not lose my….
Shit? Sanity? Control? All the above?
I’ve avoided her for so long that I’m not sure what’ll happen.
“Jace Graham?” A woman’s voice calls out to me. Keep going. Just ignore it.
“Jace Graham? I know that’s you.”
Fuck. I groan and come to a stop. The woman jogs toward me as the man follows behind her at a slower pace. Her bleach-blonde hair makes her fake tan stand out with an almost orange tint, that paired with her overinflated tits bouncing with each step closer, has my jaw flexing.
The woman is wearing a yellow string bikini, and the man behind her is sporting Hawaiian print swim trunks. Like her, he’s tan, but he looks less phony. He has short brown hair, is decently muscular, and has a slight amount of flab around his gut.
“Hello.” Her eyes dance as she plows into me, knocking me sideways. I grasp her arms to keep both of us upright. I’ve seen the feline expression on her face too many times to count–groupie. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know she’s down for anything.
As her body smashes into mine, my gaze darts back to the man whose phone is plastered to his face. Pictures? Seriously?
This time, I groan outwardly. I don’t miss this. Not that I was ever a successful musician by any stretch of the imagination, but it doesn’t matter to the groupies. They’re there whether you’re singing in front of twenty people or a stadium of 20k.
I quickly straighten her and step back, arching an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I don’t know you.”
“Oh, you will.” She winks and runs her fingertip along my chest, catching the pocket of my T-shirt. “You’re more beautiful in person than on video.”
“Thank you.” My body is rigid and on high alert, as I retreat a step, only to have her follow in my wake.
“Are you here with anyone?” She licks her red-painted lips.
“Yes, I am.” Even if it’s a slight exaggeration, I lean into the lie. This woman wouldn’t leave me alone if I told her I was on a trip with my family. She likely won’t care that I’m here with a woman, but I’ll hold onto that one lifeline because I have no interest in someone like her. Or anyone else, for that matter.
‘Liar.’ A little voice says in my head. ‘You’re a liar.’ I blink it away, shoving at that voice until it’s gone.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” The light in her eyes dims a little, and then she slaps on a brave face. “If you change your mind or your date gets too boring, I’m in Room 310 at the main resort.”
“And him?” I tip my head toward the man who has managed to keep his distance from us. He could be anything from her brother to her husband, but I’m betting he’s her husband or boyfriend.
“That’s my husband.” She bites her bottom lip and looks me up and down with an unmistakable invitation in her eyes. “He loves to watch….” Her eyes arch upward. “He even likes to join in if the enticement is right.”
“I see.” I swallow hard and put that elusive distance back between us. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“My name is Lisa.” Her voice is slow and seductive. “And that’s my husband, Brian. If you change your mind and want a good time, stop by. I’ll let you do whatever you want. Over and over again.”
No, thank you.
With that, I walk away. I can’t do whatever I want. And if I could, it wouldn’t be with her. Or her and her husband. I don’t have to look back to feel her eyes roving over me, and the need to scrub myself clean presses down on me like a weight.