Chapter 21 Amber
amber
“Does Noah know you stole his Jeep?”
James’s lips tipped up at the corner in a sly smile. “How do you know it’s the tyrant’s ride?”
“Oh, just a feeling.” I patted the special locked console with the fingerprint reader.
She snickered. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt his wittle feelings.”
I shook my head. Brooklyn Dawn had more security than I did even on the worst days of my career.
While I might have to worry about a hoard of fans surrounding me, James and her band had to worry about far more nefarious things.
She may rail at the restrictions put on her, but she’d seen firsthand what their stalker could do when they almost killed Lindz.
I may have felt trapped by my fame some days, but I rarely dealt with that kind of fear.
“Did you at least check in with him?”
“He’s got a tracker on me. He knows where I am.”
Knowing that might not actually stop Noah Jordan from hunting her down, I pulled out my phone and texted Lindsey that James was with me. A quick reply with a fainting GIF came back from the lead singer of their band and a quick thanks for the heads up.
“Tell me you did not text him, Sparkles.”
“Just Lindz.” I tucked my phone back into my puffer vest.
“You’re such a killjoy.”
“I’d prefer not to have Noah driving like a maniac through my town.”
“I have his ride, duh.” At my dry look she sighed. “Fine. He’d probably drop into your boyfriend’s little Christmas village from a helicopter with full tactical gear.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
She shrugged. “Wouldn’t put it past him. He gets pretty intense, but let’s not change the subject. Since when is this your town?”
I frowned. Surprised that I said it so easily. Haven had felt pretty foreign to me for the last few years, but being home for over a month had shifted some of those feelings. “I guess it is.”
“Might it have something to do with that lumberjack I saw back there?”
I sighed. “Tate is not a lumberjack.”
“Tell that to his muscles and flannel.”
I laughed. “He does look good in flannel doesn’t he?”
“I mean, not my particular pussy popping flavor but you do you, girl.”
I threw my head back. “Man, I missed your mouth.”
“Most do. And those who say they don’t are lying. Now, tell me which way I’m going. I’m not sure GPS actually understands these sickeningly sweet roads.”
“Oh, shut up.” I pointed at the road and had to swallow down a giggle. “Take a right on Starfall Lane.”
She pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes. “Gross.”
“C’mon, the name of the town is Haven. You think we’re going to have regular names for the roads?”
“Gag.”
But I saw her lips twitch. James liked to pretend she was a badass, but she was as loyal as they came and had a bit of mush under her rough and tough exterior.
“Now take another right on Reynolds Ave.”
“So, who’s the uptight Reynolds that named it that? The mayor or some shit?”
“The lumberjack.”
Her husky laugh filled the Jeep. “Oh, now that’s a story.”
“It is.” I nibbled on my lip. “Don’t make fun of him...”
“What did he do? Save a kitten from a building on fire and now he’s got a key to the town?”
“Not quite. He did win the lottery though.”
“What?” She cackled maniacally. “Now, I know you’re lying.”
“Nope. Not even a little. He’s also poured most of his winnings back into the town businesses and that Christmas insanity you saw back there.”
“Okay, I’ve officially driven through some portal into another world. Who the hell does that?”
“Tate Reynolds does. He won an ungodly number of millions and actually did good with it.”
“So, of course you’re one thousand percent in love with him.”
“No—I...”
“Sparkles, you’re freaking glowing. If you’re not in love with him, you’re definitely dickmatized, which is a precursor. Just ask Lindz.”
“I’ll own up to the good sex. That’s all it can be.” I focused on the town outside my window. I couldn’t be in love with him. My actual life was in the city and on the road. It couldn’t be here in Haven no matter how amazing Tate was.
Soon enough I’d have to get back to my insane cycle of writing and recording.
“If you say so, Sparkles.”
“If you want coffee take a left on Destiny.”
“Freaking Destiny,” James muttered. “The coffee better be good.”
“It’s actually better than most of the shops in Manhattan.”
“You lie. You’re just high on orgasms and home cooking.”
“You’ll see.” I pointed to Haven Café. “There’s a parking lot in the back.” I grabbed onto the dash as she bounced over the curb without even slowing down.
She took a spot toward the back where this beast of an oversized Jeep would fit. And I was pretty sure that she could park it without incident. James wasn’t exactly known for her careful driving.
We both hopped out and crossed to the back door to the café.
Inside, the scent of nutmeg and fresh baked bread made my stomach roar.
I was getting a little too used to Tate’s morning offerings, but he’d been too busy to make his own coffee for the last week.
Our morning ritual of eggs and slow starts had been off the menu.
A bell chimed as we stepped inside. Fall foliage colors covered every corner of the small space.
Baskets of burnt orange and burgundy mums created a cornucopia of homemade jams, baked goods, and bags of Haven Café’s personal blend of coffee beans.
It was late enough in the morning that there were only a few people at tables by the window.
Unfortunately, one of them was Megan from the salon.
She spotted me and quickly popped up from her table covered in papers and her laptop. “Amber, so nice to see you again.” She hurried over to me. “I just wanted to thank you again for the shout-out. I can’t keep up with all the people looking for an appointment.”
“I hope it hasn’t been too crazy.”
“Oh, it has, but in the best way.” She waved her hand still bandaged up. “I can’t wait to get the okay to pull out my shears. I had to hire two more hairdressers from Albany to come up here to help out.”
“That’s awesome.”
She glanced from me to James and her jaw dropped. “Holy shit.”
James jammed her hands into her motorcycle jacket pockets. She’d never been great about being recognized, but instead of her snarky self she got quiet.
“James, this is Megan. She helped out with de-Ambrosing me after the tour.”
Hell, even I was talking about Ambrose as a separate person. It just slipped out without me even thinking about it.
James smiled tightly. “Hey. Her hair looks better than usual. Good job.”
“Gee thanks,” I muttered.
James’s fake smile bled into her sly smile for a second.
Megan’s eyes grew even bigger. “You’re Jamison DuCaine,” she whispered.
“Guilty.”
Megan swung her gaze to me. “You know Jamison DuCaine?” She shook her head. “Never mind, you all probably have some crazy club you all belong to.”
“It doesn’t exactly work that way.” If someone looked in my phone they’d call me a liar, but James was one of the few musicians I knew who I considered a friend.
James jerked a thumb at me. “I met this one in a seedy club in Brooklyn and we danced on tables until dawn.”
Megan’s jaw dropped further.
“She’s lying.” My lips twitched. “It was Manhattan.”
“Was it?”
“Yeah, it was the Bonfire Club in Midtown.”
“Oh right. Man, we were babies.” She nudged my shoulder. “I didn’t know you had it in you to drink me under the table.”
Before she had Megan talking about me to every foiled head for the next four weeks, I dragged her over to the barista with a wave. “We’ve got a full day. It was nice to see you again. I’ll see you in a few weeks for my appointment.”
“Oh, right. I’ll see you later.” Megan craned her neck, disappointment on her face.
“What?” James snickered. “Do they not know what a bad girl you used to be, Sparkles?”
“No. And they do not need to know the details.” I’d definitely made poor choices when I was younger. I’d gotten myself in a lot of trouble thanks to an injury from falling through the stage during a show. The kind that came with a twelve-step program to get over it.
Luckily, the label and my team had been able to keep that one out of the news, but it had been a close thing.
James rolled her eyes. “If you didn’t get arrested, it doesn’t count.”
“Not everyone has your rap sheet, James.”
“That’s true. I actually got arrested in Madrid last fall. You should have seen the master sergeant’s face. I was pretty sure he was going to pop a blood vessel by the time he bailed me out.”
“Do I want to know what you did?”
She grinned. “More like who I did.”
I shook my head. “I don’t need to know.”
“Maybe I’ll tell you with some tequila later.”
“Oh, no. There will be no tequila.”
“C’mon. I brought a bottle from Nash’s reserve box. Not that he knows I stole it—yet.”
Alexander Nash was engaged to the lead singer in James’s band. “Does Lindsey know?”
She shook her head. “Where’s the fun in that?” She leaned against the counter and gave the barista a cheeky smile. “What’s good here, babe?”
“Uh.” She pitched her voice low. “Are you really Jamison DuCaine?”
James lowered her voice. “No.” The girl looked so confused that even James had to show some mercy. “I’m kidding. Yes, I am.”
She practically vibrated, but took a deep breath and tried for some decorum. “Um, depends on if you like cinnamon or would prefer something with a more mint flavor?”
“I like it spicy.”
“Oh, then I’d go with the Spiced Cinnamon Dream. It’ll make your tongue burn and the espresso will give you a kick.”
“Sounds good to me. Make it a quad shot. I’ll take one of those orange scone things too and a half dozen chocolate chip cookies. All to go.” James wandered down to look at other baked goods in the case.
“Eggnog Latte with extra nutmeg for me and a Lumberjack on pumpernickel.”
James craned her neck. “Lumberjack?”
I pointed to the menu and she practically drooled. “Oh, I’ll have one of those on an everything bagel, too.”
The barista nodded and got to work.
“Still a black hole for a stomach, huh?”