My strong, self-righteous, hypocritical father seemed to wilt before us when Freedom mentioned Jamie. He may not care about Freedom or even me at this very moment. However, Jamie and KJ were his heart. He resignedly asked, “Anything else you need to say?”
“I do.” I chimed in, “I hope that one day, I can forgive you for what you did. This manwillbe my husband, Daddy. I hope that we can all be a family whenever that day happens, but if we can’t, I’m always going to choose him.”
Freedom grabbed me hard by my face and kissed me with all his might, while my father watched. When he broke the kiss, Freedom looked around while I continued to stare at him in a daze. “He’s gone.”
“Good, because I need you so fucking much.” I pulled his head back down and started kissing him.
He laughed in between my frantic, desperate kisses. “Just because we’re on the same page about your dad doesn’t mean that I suddenly want to fuck in this house.”
I pulled off my t-shirt, dropped my shorts, and let them drift to the floor. His eyes locked on my rigid nipples poking through my lace bra. “Still feel that way?” Backing up slowly, I unhooked my bra and played with my breasts as I led him to the guest bedroom.
Freedom bit his lower lip before he picked me up, tossed me over his shoulder. “We’re about to fuck in the garage.”
I giggled against his back and professed. “I’ve always wanted to have sex in the garage.”
He slapped my ass as he strode through the house. “I love you, too.”
PARIS
The crowd chanted and screamed my name. I was set to begin theBringing the Deep South World Tourin five minutes. I had been sober for six months, and I no longer wondered if I would be triggered at any point. Today I’ve been on a natural high, through hanging out with Alonzo, press conferences, and seeing the majestic Eiffel Tower. The only thing missing was my family. Peace wouldn’t see my concert until the Brazil stop. Jamie and Jamaica would fly up together in three days for the London stop. And I planned to show them just how much fun our new lives will be.
The unexpected confrontative yet cathartic talk with her father released the last of my reservations about being with Jamaica. She’d finally stood up to her father for me, making it clear that she would ride for me, that she wanted and was worthyof me. I planned to ask Jamie and KJ for their mother’s hand in marriage when the time was right. If they said “no”, I would wait, confident that sooner or later they would proudly stand with her at our wedding.
The best part was that confronting her father seemed to unleash something inside of Jamaica. She couldn’t get enough of me, demanding sex in between everything I had to do, and inquisitive about any and everything related to my music, trying to see how her business background could help me become even bigger. I reminded her yesterday, when she rode with me to the airport, that she didn’t have to cram all this information if she caught a flight with me. She’d told me then that she’d arranged for Kody and her mother to watch KJ so she and Jamie could fly to London to see me. Knowing both would be with me again soon buoyed my spirit and eased the sting of disappointment of being alone in Paris.
I strapped my guitar on my back and donned my cowboy hat, bouncing around and shaking my arms to loosen up my performance nerves. Alonzo was still on his tour bus with his wife and baby. He would close this show, and I would close London. My next album,Home Again, was set to drop while we were in Brazil, and I was already getting Grammy chatter. I would somehow convince Jamaica to join me again on the tour in Brazil, since Peace and Lori planned to be there, and we would all have a blast.
Crazy how much everything changed in the last six months. After years of loneliness, I now had a son, and the woman who snatched my heart out of my chest would be my wife one day. Smiling, I posed for a few pics and headed toward the stage, adjusting the mic on my head, listening to the last-minute instructions of the stage manager.
I would rock out this show and happily crash into a deep sleep on my bus. My party days were over. I had a woman to come home to now, even if that home was back in Dallas.
“Don’t miss the cue,” Maurice yelled across the backstage.
I hit the mic on my ear. “Use the earphones, bitch.”
“Man, fuck you,” Maurice growled, wearing a smile. “You ready?”
“Always.” I adjusted the strap as I strolled, feeling the anticipatory energy buzz that I would command the stage. I really was meant to do this.
“Time,” Maurice spoke into my ear.
People dapped me off on the final walk toward the stage, and my breath caught.
Wearing a Freedom Cade t-shirt, jeans, and a Stetson, Jamaica smiled brightly on the side of the stage. “You are the most fearless person I know, figured it was time I matched your energy and immerse myself in your world.”
“Freedom. Your cue.” His annoyed voice yelled.
The screaming fans, the band playing, the stagehands rushing around, and Maurice’s commands fell on deaf ears. The only person I could see and hear was Jamaica Bennett. I took a step toward her. “Can’t believe you’re here. We just spoke on the phone an hour ago.”
“I was on the way here from the airport. Peace and Maurice helped.” She impishly smiled. “I couldn’t miss the very first day of your world tour in Paris, could I? Plus, I’m a huge fan of Alonzo Taylor, so I thought I would truly be Freedom Cade’s woman and fly across the world to be with you on one of the most important nights of your life.”
I gave her my crooked smile that she adored. “My first and forever love.”
“My true love.” She slammed into me, and I caught her, kissing her, relishing her sweet, strawberry-flavored lips while Maurice screamed in my ear to get my lovestruck ass on stage.
The world could wait.
The girl of my fantasies had finally become the woman of my reality.
