“And the inside smelled like Shalimar. You know, that grandma perfume?” Jay sounded a little nostalgic, and I raised an eyebrow at him. “What? It grew on me.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” the deputy said solemnly. He grabbed another napkin from the stack on the table. “But since life goes on, my sister’s name is—”
“Hey, Jim!” A woman with cat-eye glasses and a no-nonsense black bob pulled up a chair beside the deputy. “Maggie called and said to tell you she got the kids in bed, and she had to sing the Olaf songtwice, so you’d best have gotten her an autograph.”
“Thanks, Normandie,” Deputy Freckles said. He patted the pocket where his first set of napkins had disappeared. “All taken care of.”
She stuck out a hand for Jay to shake. “Normandie Baker. I’m the manager of the inn. Welcome!” She made a sweeping gesture with her hand like a game show hostess.
“Thanks,” Jay said shortly.
“I was wondering, Jayd—can I call you Jayd? It’s crazy, but I feel like I know you, in a way—if you’d maybe sing a song or two for us over in Karaoke Alley? We’re all big,bigfans.” Normandie smiled winningly.
I could almostseeJay erecting a wall around himself brick by brick, and I finally really understood what he’d been talking about. These folks felt like they knew him because they knew his name and his music, because he smiled at them from the front of magazines… but they had no idea who he really was or what struggles he was dealing with beneath the surface. They didn’t know how worried he was for his sister, or how hard he was trying to hold on to his privacy.
Everyone lovedJayd, but how many people cared about Jay? How many even knew there was a difference?
I did, though. And it felt kind of like a privilege.
Jay hesitated, trying to figure out how to say no without seeming like a jerk. “Well, the thing is, I—”
“Will have to take a rain check,” I interrupted smoothly. “He’s saving his voice for a big concert next week. You may have heard the rumors that he’s had to cancel his tour for the past few weeks? That’s why. Advanced, um… vocal fatigue. Too much practicing.”
Jay gave me a grateful smile and went along with it. “Yeah. Yep. I overdid it. Rookie mistake.”
He shrugged sheepishly, and the people around us ate it up, responding to the genuine warmth and kindness in him that shone through even when he was playing the role of a famous rock star.
It hit me again how wrong I’d been about everything with Jay, and how it felt like I’d been given a second chance. I didn’t want to wait another minute to show the man how freakin’ special he was to me on every single level. Long before he was a rock star, he was the single brightest star in my sky. He always would be.
I remembered Jay telling Chet to figure out what Chrissea did to make him feel important and to mirror that back to her somehow… and I came up with the world’s schmoopiest, cheesiest idea. It was the kind of thing Beale would do for Toby or Fenn would do for Mason—the kind of thing I wouldneverlet them live down—which told me I was on the right track.
I turned to Normandie, who was still seated at the table. “You know, if you’re looking for someone to sing karaoke… I could do it.”
10
Jay
“What the fuck are you doing?” I demanded as I trailed Rafe, who trailed Normandie, from the bar to someplace called Karaoke Alley. “You don’t sing! You hate singing.”
And although I would never say it aloud, especially now that we were trying to be friends—or (please, sweet baby Jesus) lovers—it was kind of a good thing Rafe didn’t like singing because he was trulyterribleat it.
“I’m making an exception,” Rafe said over his shoulder. “It’s an exceptional kinda day.”
And, yeah, okay, that was definitely true. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d slipped and hit my head on the sink back at the gas station, because I couldn’tbelieveall that had happened since that moment: Chet, and tequila, and revelations, and more freakin’ Chet, and then that scene at the bar that made me feel like we were heading toward… something involving significantly less clothing than karaoke.
I tried again. “We could just go upstairs now, you know. I’m tired.You’retired. And we still have a lot to say to each other.” Not to mention, fingers crossed,doto each other.
Rafe hung back a step, just enough to let me catch up. “Oh, I plan to finish our conversation,” he said firmly, with a kind of purr to his voice that made my dick chub up against the front of my jeans. “But first we’re doing this.”
“I’m also fairly sure that Deputy DoRight has more questions for us—”
“I’ve been calling him Deputy Freckles.” He smiled an honest, gorgeous smile that made my knees weak. “And he can wait. His other questions probably have to do with making you sign hisassso he can get your autograph tattooed there permanently.”
“Hmm.” I rolled my lips. “Maggie and the kids might not appreciate that.”
Rafe snorted. “Or maybe theywould. And every single person in town would not only know about it, they’d have a framed picture of his ass tattoo on their mantle. It’d be the Freckles family Christmas card picture.”
I laughed out loud. “I dunno, I think the town’s kinda cute. It sorta reminds me of the Key.”
