Wait for Me Page 3

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have got a massive surprise for you tonight. As you may know, we had Leonie Kingston booked, but she came down with the flu this week and had to pull out.”

  Boos and catcalls rang out as people processed this news.

  “Hold on. Hold your horses. It gets better, I promise. It just so happens that someone on the organizing committee knows someone who knows someone, and we were able to line up a new act to step in at the last minute. I think you’re going to be pretty happy, people. Put your hands together for our own local boys made good, Jonah Masters and the Rowdy Boys!”

  There was a moment of stunned silence, then a huge roar of approval went up, the sound so loud Beth had to cover her ears. Whistles and howls of approval rang out as Jonah and the band took the stage, Jonah lifting his hand to acknowledge the welcome.

  He looked taller and broader up there. He turned to have a quick word with the drummer, and the woman beside Beth raised her camera phone to take a snap of his denim-clad backside. One of the spotlights caught his hair as he turned to face the audience again, and for a few precious seconds he glowed like a heavenly visitation as the opening chords of the band’s first big hit filled the space. A thrill raced down Beth’s spine as Jonah started to sing. His voice was deep and mellow and smooth — except when he pushed himself, and then it took on a rasping, husky note that never failed to raise the small hairs on her arms. The woman sitting next to her kicked off her shoes and stood on her chair to get a better view and after a few seconds Beth did the same. What the hell.

  From her new vantage point, she watched as Jonah worked the crowd, giving the performance his all. It didn’t take long for his chestnut hair to darken with sweat, but it only made him more appealing, more gorgeous.

  It felt…strange to allow herself to fully register how attractive he was. When she’d first met Jonah, she’d been in the first flush of her marriage to Troy, fully, madly, deeply in love with her cocky cowboy-turned-musician husband. And yet every time she’d wound up sitting next to Jonah during the communal meals they so often shared on the road, she’d been conscious of how often she smiled when she was with him, and how often he smiled back at her. She’d convinced herself it was because they were fellow Australians far from home — it was nice to talk to someone who sounded like her and got her weird cultural references and dry sense of humor.

  She’d believed it, too.

  But it wasn’t Jonah’s sense of humor she was admiring tonight. She was eyeing the powerful muscles of his thighs, and enjoying the way his shirt bunched around his biceps when he clenched the microphone and sang his heart out. She was marveling at the rich color of his hair and the clean, beautifully masculine lines of his face.

  The incontrovertible truth of the matter was that Jonah Masters was hot. It wasn’t something that had happened overnight, either — he’d always been hot, and it was highly probable that a part of her had been aware of that fact, even if she hadn’t been prepared to acknowledge it at the time.

  It was an unsettling realization, and she spent a few seconds trying to puzzle out what it meant, and if it changed her perception of their past friendship.

  Then she shook her head. Did it really matter? So many of the things she’d thought were real and true had been proved false and hollow recently. Whether she had always been aware of Jonah as a man was pretty irrelevant in the big scheme of things.

  Still, she couldn’t stop her mind from playing over the past as she watched him work the stage. God, he’d made her laugh. There were times on the tour bus when everyone had been tired and sick of the constant travel and the hotels and motels, but Jonah had never once let it get to him.

  Perhaps inevitably, her thoughts turned to the last time she’d seen him. It was impossible to avoid going there when she thought about Jonah. It had been the end of the tour, a red-letter day all on its own. It was also the beginning of the end of her marriage.

  She just hadn’t realized it at the time…

  Chapter Two

  Three Years Ago

  The Phoenix sidewalk was so hot Beth could feel it through the soles of her sandals as she and Jonah made their way back to the hotel. Melted ice cream oozed down the side of her waffle cone, defeating her attempts to lick her peanut butter crunch into submission before it succumbed to the ferocious summer sun.

  “You’re fighting a losing battle there, slowpoke,” Jonah said as she chased yet another rivulet of melted ice cream down the cone.

  “It’s not my fault I can’t stick the whole thing in my mouth the way you did,” Beth countered.

  She’d been amazed when he pretty much consumed his monster cone in less than a minute at the ice-cream parlor. It had taken her most of the two-block walk to the hotel to make decent inroads into her double scoop.

  “I didn’t stick the whole thing in,” Jonah said. “Half, maybe.”

  “I bet you could get your whole fist in that huge maw of yours if you tried,” Beth said.

  Teasing Jonah had become one of the highlights of the tour for her, and she wasn’t about to give up this last opportunity before the tour broke up tomorrow and they all went back to their lives. Hard to believe that five months of bouncing between planes, the bus, stadiums, and hotels was drawing to a close.

  “Nope. Not even with the help of half a tub of Vaseline,” Jonah said.

  It was such a specific answer, she stopped in her tracks to stare at him.

  “Tell me you haven’t tried,” she dared him, her mouth already curling into a smile.

  He shrugged. “Gets pretty dull on a long tour in rural Australia. You know what they say, idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

  She laughed. Jonah had developed a decent tan during their long tour of the U.S., and his teeth looked very white as he laughed with her.

  “I’m pretty sure there’s no mention of Vaseline in that quote,” she said.

  “There should be. Makes it a hell of a lot easier to really pack your hand in,” Jonah said, miming the action.

  Honestly, the man was shameless. He’d do almost anything to make her laugh. She was going to miss his easy company when she went home to Nashville tomorrow.

  “Are you still flying back to Australia tomorrow?” she asked.

  If he was surprised at the abrupt change of subject, Jonah’s easy smile didn’t give anything away.

  “Yep. Guess you and Troy can’t wait to fly home to Nashville?”

  “It’ll be good. I’ve almost forgotten what our house looks like, it’s been so long.”

  It was on the tip of Beth’s tongue to suggest Jonah call or email the next time he was stateside and heading for Nashville, but something stopped her.

  He’d saved her sanity on this tour, but maybe the friendship they’d formed was one of those “what happens on tour stays on tour” things. Maybe it would be weird or inappropriate if she tried to hang onto the rapport they’d developed.

  “Are you —”

  A photographer suddenly stepped in front of her and snapped a shot of her. “Beth, do you have any comment for our readers about your husband’s alleged affair?” The shutter on his camera clicked away as he took multiple frames.

  “What?” she asked, confused and confronted by the way the man was crowding her personal space, the lens of his camera zeroing in on her. She’d walked a few red carpets and run the screaming-fan gauntlet a few times with Troy in the nine months of their marriage, but this was the first time she’d ever been ambushed by a tabloid reporter.

  “Did you know about the secret apartment, Beth? Do you really have a deal with your husband that means he can play away from home?” the photographer demanded.

  Beth blinked, lifting a hand to ward him off as she tried to grapple with the things he was throwing at her. An affair? A secret apartment?

  “Back off, buddy,” Jonah said, stepping in front of her and blocking the photographer’s view.

  “You’re Jonah Masters, right? You in on this whole open marriage thin
g, too?”

  Beth couldn’t see anything except Jonah’s broad back covered in a plain white T-shirt, but she could hear his voice loud and clear.

  “Back. Off.”

  The camera clicked a few more times, then Jonah took a menacing step forward and the cameraman retreated.

  “Don’t you want to tell your side of the story, Beth? Let the world know you’re not a doormat?”

  Jonah muttered a four-letter word as he turned toward her, still shielding her from the camera.

  “You okay?

  She nodded, too busy trying to process to speak.

  “Let’s go,” he said, catching her elbow.

  Belatedly she registered she still held what was left of her ice-cream cone. Creamy liquid dripped steadily onto the sidewalk and snaked its way down her arm. Her movements jerky, she walked to the nearby trash can and dumped the cone, shaking the worst of the mess off her hand. Then she ducked her head and fell into step with Jonah. They headed for the hotel at a brisk clip, his hand on the small of her back. She could hear the camera whirring away behind her, no doubt catching every second of their escape.

  “What the hell was that?” she said.

  “No idea,” Jonah said grimly.

  She glanced at him and saw the tension in his jaw and neck. He was furious, she realized.

  “It’s okay. I’m okay,” she reassured him. “He just startled me, jumping out like that.”

  “He’s a fucking dirtbag,” Jonah said.

  Beth wasn't about to argue with him. They swept into the hotel and across the foyer, making a beeline for the elevators. She hit the button to call the elevator car just as her phone rang.

  It was Troy.

  “Where are you?” he asked when she took the call, his tone clipped.

  “On the way up to the room.”

  “Good.”

  “There was a photographer out on the street,” she said.

  “Come straight to the room, I’ll fill you in.”

  “Okay.”

  She could hear the doubt, the uncertainty in her own voice.

  “It’s all right, baby. Everything’s all right,” Troy said, his voice softening.

  “I’ll see you in a minute.”

  She tightened her grip on the phone as the door slid open and she stepped into the car, Jonah still beside her. Her gaze fell on the plate glass windows separating the foyer from the street. Another photographer had joined the man who’d accosted them on the street. Whatever was going on was clearly a big deal.

  Her chest was tight with dread as the door closed.

  “You okay?” Jonah asked again.

  “Yes.” Barely.

  Something bad was about to happen. She could feel it in the air.

  “You’re pretty pale,” he said.

  “I’ll live.”

  She willed the elevator to move faster, needing to get to Troy, needing to know, but also dreading what might happen at the end of this short journey. What she might hear.

  “He said something about an affair,” she said suddenly.

  Jonah didn’t say anything, and she glanced at him. Jonah held her gaze, but still didn’t respond. The tight feeling in her chest increased to the point of pain.

  “Is Troy having an affair?” she asked. Her voice came out sounding choked and breathless.

  “Not that I know of.”

  It wasn’t the “hell, no, how could you even think that” she was looking for. Not even close.

  “But you think it’s possible?” she asked.

  Jonah glanced toward the floor indicator. No doubt he was wishing the elevator would move faster, too.

  “Troy and I had never met before the tour. You know that. You know him better than I do.”

  There was more, she could feel it, and she simply held his gaze, willing him to be honest with her.

  “Jesus, Beth,” he said, shaking his head. “You really want me to say it?”

  The door opened on her floor but she didn’t get out.

  “Yes.”

  There was a long, tense pause before Jonah spoke again.

  “He’s got a reputation.” She could tell he didn’t relish being the bearer of bad tidings.

  “For what?”

  “For enjoying the perks of the business.”

  “You mean groupies.” It wasn’t a question. She understood exactly what he meant.

  “Yes.”

  She blinked. She’d known Troy had a life before her. She’d seen the magazine covers while waiting at the supermarket check-out, but she’d thought all of that had stopped once he’d met and fallen in love with her. That was the way it had worked for her with him, and she’d assumed it was the same for Troy.

  “So you think it’s true?” she asked.

  “I know as much as you do, Beth,” he said.

  She wasn’t being fair, demanding answers from him when he didn’t have them to give. The only person who could tell her the things she needed to know was her husband.

  Who may, or may not, be having an affair.

  She stepped out of the elevator, and Jonah followed her. As they approached the suite she shared with Troy, the door opened and he stepped into the hall, a frown on his face. His expression cleared when he saw her.

  “Beth,” he said, gesturing for her to join him.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Jonah asked quietly.

  Did she? She had no idea. She half nodded, half shook her head, and Jonah continued to keep pace alongside her.

  “What happened out there?” Troy asked, walking up the corridor to meet her. “Do I need to call Simon?”

  She shook her head at the mention of his lawyer. “It was just a photographer. Jonah scared him off.”

  Troy started to embrace her but she stiffened instinctively. He stilled, then drew back so he could see her face. His dark brown eyes looked into hers, steady and familiar.

  “It’s bullshit, Beth. All of it. Trust me, something like this comes up every few years or so. I guarantee there will be a retraction the second Simon’s finished with them.”

  “The photographer said something about a secret apartment.”

  “Right. Did he mention that we apparently have an open marriage, too? Any of that sound true to you?” He held her gaze, utterly sincere.

  “No.”

  Troy’s hands landed on her shoulders, his fingers pressing warmly into her flesh.

  “Sweetheart, I love you more than life itself. You think I’d fuck that up for a few minutes with a stranger? You really think I’d put everything we’ve got together in jeopardy for something that pointless?”

  His hands were heavy on her shoulders, his gaze unwavering. She was reminded of the day he stood opposite her nine months ago — heart-stoppingly handsome in a black tuxedo with his dark hair and eyes — and made vows of commitment and love to her.

  The tightness banding her chest eased.

  She believed him. How could she not, when he was so adamant, so determined? When she loved him so much.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just… I wasn’t prepared.”

  “I know. But this is going to happen from time to time. We’re just going to have to roll with the punches, sue their asses off and laugh at them,” he said.

  “I know.”

  When he drew her into his arms this time, she went willingly, breathing in the smell of him, sucking the certainty he was offering down into her bones.

  “Thanks for looking after her, buddy,” Troy said over her shoulder. “I’ve got it from here.”

  She pulled back from his embrace, looking from her husband’s cool gaze to Jonah’s carefully neutral face.

  “Thanks, Jonah. I really appreciate what you did back there,” she said, offering him a faint smile to prove she really was okay now.

  “It was nothing.” Jonah glanced over his shoulder toward the elevator, and when he looked back at her he was frowning. “If there’s anything —”

  “There isn’t. I’ll see you a
t the sound check, okay, buddy,” Troy said, reaching out to clap Jonah on the shoulder.

  There was a patronizing dismissiveness in the gesture that made Beth wince inwardly, but she was conscious of the fact that Troy would hate that this scene had played out in front of a witness. He might be a showman on stage, but he liked to keep their private life private.

  “Sure thing,” Jonah said.

  Turning, he walked toward the elevators.

  Troy’s hand slipped around her shoulders, guiding her toward the open door of their suite.

  “How’d you get so sticky, anyway?” he asked, and she looked with surprise at the dried rivulets of ice cream streaking her hand and forearm.

  Her trip to the ice-cream parlor seemed as though it had happened an eon ago.

  “We went for ice cream while you were having your massage.”

  “Doesn’t look like much of it made into to your mouth,” he said.

  Beth glanced over her shoulder before they entered the suite, but Jonah was gone.

  “It’s pretty hot out there,” she said.

  Troy closed the door behind them, and pulled her into a fierce hug, his muscular arms hard as steel around her.

  “Don’t ever doubt me, baby. It kills me. You’re it for me. You know that, right?” he said softly, pressing tiny kisses along her hairline.

  “I love you so much, Troy.”

  It felt so good to be in his arms, to have his words overwriting the memory of the photographer on the street.

  “I love you, too, baby. More than you’ll ever know. Come on, let’s clean up that sticky hand, okay?”

  She followed him into the bathroom, happy to let him minister to her. Needing the reassurance of the physical contact.

  They were going to be okay. It didn’t matter that there were tabloid photographers waiting to pounce or lies being printed in magazines and newspapers. As Troy said, the two of them knew the truth of their marriage.

  At the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

  Chapter Three

  Jonah’s body vibrated with music. The twang of his guitar against his belly, the almost subliminal thump of the drums and bass guitar rising from the stage beneath his feet, the sound of his own voice in his throat, the words reverberating in his chest. He was possessed, owned, mastered by chords and notes, and as always it filled him with an almost uncontainable joy.