9781618857958KissMeLikeYouMeanItLeveyNC (3 page)

“Man,
I think she is in shock. Everyone expects her to do socially damaging things,
not you.”

“I
know, right?” She sighed and pushed the car in park. “I don’t know what to do.
I’m thinking of getting a hotel for the night. My eyes are swollen from crying and
I can’t seem to stop.”

“If
it makes you feel better, I kicked this jock’s ass for making a comment about
you.”

“No,
that doesn’t make me feel better. Fighting goes on transcripts so do
suspensions. You have a great college career ahead of you.”

“Yeah
well, you’re my sister, my family, and that tool got what he deserved. Been
wanting to plant a fist in his face since sixth grade. Thanks for giving me a
reason to, it’s worth being on punishment.”

“Dad?”

“Said,
son, there are times when a man just walks away. Takes more courage to walk
away than to duke it out. But then he winked, so I think the words were for Ma’s
benefit.”

“Can
you do a search for some hotels in New York? I think I’ll stay away from home
for now. New York isn’t far from me.

“I
can do you one better. Jackson has a house in New York not too far from you.”

“So
you want to add felon to the list of my transgressions?” Carlie snorted.
Jackson
. She hadn’t even thought of him
or what he’d think of this mess. Hell, the
manwhore
would probably love it.

“You
know I’m in charge of making sure the local houses are locked up tight and that
housekeeping comes through when they go on tour once a week. I have his codes.”

“I
can’t ask you to betray his confidence. Without his permission, being there
would be so wrong.”

“Well
you can’t come home. I can guarantee you with Garrick out of the country you
don’t have a buffer here to be a voice of reason. My mediating skills won’t
work since I’m in the shitter right along with you. Besides, if you go to a
hotel Dad will find you. Jackson is chill like that, and this is an urgent
situation.”

“God,
I love you, little brother.”

“I
get that from all the ladies in my life.” His casual tone brought another
fleeting smile to her face.

“Where
does he stay at?”

“His
house is in upper Westchester. I’ll text you the codes. He should be stocked up
on bare necessities. I’d stop off and get some fresh food and things you might
need. He’s only spent enough time there to update the place in the past year or
so.”

“How
do you know about this side of his life? He’s never been much of a talker.”
Jordan intrigued her curiosity in the complex bass guitarist.

“I
spent last summer with them on the tour bus remember. He’s a great guy and
since I helped out so much they all trust me to keep their places squared away.”

“I
guess after all these years, I don’t know as much as I thought, about his
family at least. I remember his visits during summer vacations, and his mom
passing. After he came to live with his dad but that’s about all. Then the guys
created the band and he was always at our house. I was too involved in studying
to get into college to fawn over him like everyone else. He never talks about
New York or his life there. I guess I just figured he didn’t want to think
about that part of his past. I don’t remember hearing he had a home out on this
coast.”

“Yeah,
well he has restaurants too. A whole fleet of them. French ones. Do an Internet
search on
Debuque
, his mom’s side is pretty well off.
Man, can he cook. I guess that talent runs in his family too.”

“Look
at you, secret spiller.”

“Shit.
Gotta
go, Dad’s on the prowl. Keep in touch. I’ll
delete any texts I sent and keep my mouth shut for you. Drive safe. Love you,
sis.”

“Love
you too.” Carlie ended the call and breathed a sigh of relief. In Mexico she’d
spent an ungodly amount of money that she had yet to pay on. Staying at a hotel
for an indefinite period of time would’ve cost her more than she had. Her phone
buzzed in her hand.

38
Sackett
Landing, Rye, NY, 10580.

Two
hundred thirty-nine miles or three hours and forty-eight minutes later, Carlie
pulled into the private two mile road. She rolled her window down, the breeze
pushed the crisp Atlantic Ocean air into her car. Jackson’s home sat along the south
shore of Long Island.

“Breath-fucking-taking.”
Nothing but lush green surrounded her. “Who needs a college when you can do all
your courses online from a house like this? I never want to leave,” she
muttered to no one but herself and came to a slow halt, rolled her window down and
pressed in the code. The wrought iron gates swung open. Carlie eased her foot
on the gas. She barely made it through before the gate sprang back, closing
just after she cleared the opening. “I bet that’s to keep out the paparazzi.”
She made out the house in the distance. As she closed in, Carlie realized
Jackson didn’t grow up in a home, he grew up in a multimillion dollar mansion.
Her breath left her when she got her first full view of the sprawling Colonial
style, reminding her of Tara from Gone with The Wind.

Maybe I should go home.
She dropped her head onto the steering wheel. Mentally exhausted, she slipped
out, grabbed her purse, laptop bag and rolling suitcase, then walked up to her
new residence. She’d make the best of staying here until either the master came
home or she grew enough balls to face her father, siblings, and mother.

This isn’t really breaking and
entering since I have the code. He’s practically family, so he really won’t
mind. Well, not really family since I want him, in the worst possible way, to
do dirty things to me that I’d never admit to anyone but my twin, Nev, and
Jazz.

Carlie
talked herself into motivation. Putting one foot forward, she made the short
trek to the front door and pressed in the second set of characters Jordan sent.
The door locking mechanism clicked allowing her to turn the knob and enter.

Entering
a formal sitting room, the warmness of the décor welcomed her, bidding her to
come in and make herself at home. For a man like Jackson, she hadn’t expected
the warm swatches of color. Through gigantic bay windows she had a perfect view
of the peaceful water.

She
walked by pictures of Jackson from birth to current. “He was such a cute kid.”
In one picture he held a guitar four times bigger than him with a huge smile. She
passed by one of him on a piano bench with a young woman and another one where
he held an acoustic guitar fit for his size. She noticed how very young he
began playing. Feeling too intrusive, she stepped away from memories that
didn’t belong to her and lugged her items up the stairs, careful not to scuff
them with her suitcase.

In
the back of her mind, she worried about Jackson’s reaction to her being
unannounced in his home. In the front of her mind, dealing with his irritation
or anger didn’t compare to dealing with that of her family’s.

He’ll get over it. I bet my life on
it.

On
the next floor, she moved to her left down the hallway. She peeked into a few
bedrooms, finding them unfinished and without any furnishings. Jordan did tell
her Jackson was revamping, maybe he hadn’t gotten to all of the guest rooms.
Carlie opened the door to a third room and walked into a giant walk-in closet
filled with dress clothes, shoes, and racks of sunglasses. She turned and
stepped back out. The next two rooms had new painted walls and dressers but no
beds. Pressing on, she turned the corner and passed a bathroom. At the end of
the slender hallway large mahogany double doors took up the remaining space.
Curious, she turned the knob, finding it locked.

“I’m
so not sleeping on the floor or the couch downstairs.” Hissing out a breath,
she checked one last room with a set of mahogany double doors and found
Jackson’s bedroom.
Just what the doctor
ordered, a California king bed.

Carlie
toed off her shoes and climbed onto the huge bed. She sank into the comfortable
mattress and sighed in absolute pleasure as her muscles unwound. This was the
life. His pillow felt like a cloud. God, his bed even smelled like him in his
long absence. Maybe his scent came in laundry soap form. Relaxed, the day’s
events caught up to her. Too exhausted to fight sleep, she closed her eyes, for
just a second.

Chapter Two

“Hey, you guys are
awesome. I'd comment on the weather but I have to say…” Garrick looked away
from the audience over at his bandmates. “We have to say, non-alcoholic beer?
What the hell is up with that? Some
hinky
bullshit if
you ask me. You warriors deserve a nice cold cup of ale. Being in a war zone
sucks bad enough, I feel your pain. Even my taste buds revolted, until a
soldier handed me the sweetest treat ever—a big white chocolate chip macadamia
nut cookie and fuck it was like a little piece of Heaven.
Ya
know, I went on a journey to find me one, but
apparently
someone forgot to put in supply order. What's up with
the out of stock items? How can ya'll live without these fantastic fucking
cookies?”

“Guys what do you
think?”

“Garrick man, at least
they still have rock and roll.”

“Fuck yeah they do,
Jackson. Ya’ll warriors ready to rock this place down? We heard you couldn’t
come home to pay us a visit, so we brought the visit to you.”

Garrick stepped across
the stage, engaging the crowd with more conversation.

“Bro’s can you believe
we only have one more meet and greet after this? Damn depressing, we’ve enjoyed
rocking out with these brave men and women for the past ten days. I don’t know
how they do this day in and day out. Man, I don’t know what I thought…but damn it
is
fuckin
’ cold in the desert at night. Ball freezing
cold.”

“
Hooah
.”

“That’s what I’m
talkin
’ about. Love that in unison shit. Give it to me one more
time?” Garrick held the
mic
out to the crowd.

“
Hooah
.”
The excited soldiers gave Crimson Rage what they wanted to hear. Jackson
stepped on the pedal board. The unison chanting for them to begin their
signature song grew louder. He turned to see Shea’s shit-eating grin and the
kick-start drum fill to start their show. Jimmy brought his late brother Miles’
dog tags out from under his shirt and kissed them, a signature sign of respect
before each show. Never forgotten.

While Garrick belted
out the lyrics to Depraved Indifference, Jackson moved across the stage to join
Jimmy as his boy played the intro. His gaze connected with a few female
soldiers. He loved women, didn’t have a discriminating bone in his body when it
came to the female form. Seeing their sexy shapes rocking with the beat made
his dick hard. Damn if it wasn’t hot as hell they were out here protecting
their country.

Garrick belted out the
lyrics for the first verse. During the second he held his ear out to the crowd and
the
mic
to them.

The highlight of
playing a gig was the fans screaming out the words and the sound they created,
the ultimate homage. The rush, the high of playing for thousands in a huge
arena didn't come close to playing for selfless individuals a world away from
home. He lost himself in the music, enjoying playing the low end and bringing
shit back to the basics. Keeping it simple.

Garrick moved from
center stage, giving Jackson room to stand in front of new faces. While Shea
screamed into the
mic
, he banged his head in time
with the drum beat performing his solo next to Jimmy.

“We’ve heard what the
fellas wanted to hear. How about the ladies, have any requests? I’m a taken man
but half of my boys aren’t. I have to admit seeing you women out here in
uniform is sexy as fuck.”

“Garrick. You know we
have to keep Jackson and Jimmy here on a short leash.”

“Damn, Shea, you’re
right.” Garrick turned to face him. “Behave. These women are pure gold. Not the
easy groupies ya’ll are used to back home.”

“Well then, I’m
aimin
’ to find me a pot o’ gold or two to dip my shillelagh
in.” Jimmy winked at the crowd and Jackson busted out laughing.

“Shut up, you Irish fuck
and let these beautiful women here pick a song. They’re too much woman for you
to handle, bro.” Jackson spoke into his
mic.

“Play Rhapsody.” A
pretty brunette in the middle of the crowd belted out.

Improvising with his
fret board, Jackson flipped Jimmy off while Garrick addressed their audience.

“How did I know you
lovely ladies would request a love song?” Ever the charmer, Garrick flashed the
women his dimpled smile.
Cockblocking
bastard was
stealing the
hotties
for himself and he had no use
for them. Jackson didn’t miss the smirk his friend aimed his way, a direct hit.
He grabbed his crotch in response and bent to take a swig of water.