The band strikes up another familiar song, sending ripples through the room. My body begins to move with the beat of the music as I reach for the freshly poured brews. It doesn’t take me long to find Jett near the edge of the dance floor. He hasn’t seen me yet, and I take a moment to drink him in.
His long, muscular legs look even stronger in his tailored dress pants. Peaks and valleys stretch across his back, noticeable in his dress shirt. The sharpness of his jaw through the freshly groomed beard he’s always worn. But it’s his eyes that call to me. The piercing blue shines brighter in the stage light. Happiness and relief pour off of him in waves. Almost as if he’s left anything causing him pain and stress behind tonight.
As if he can sense me staring, his head turns as those eyes I was admiring lock onto me.
“Hey, beautiful.”
I hand him a drink as I take a long swig of mine, hoping the cold hops will cool me down.
“Let’s see those moves,” I say, obnoxiously shimmying my hips to the beat, and he throws his head back in a laugh.
Without another word, he takes my hand and leads me into the throngs of people. We dance to songs we grew up with, lyrics etched into muscle memory. We sing along, off-key and shameless. Our faces inches apart as we scream a version of “Sold” by John Michael Montgomery, our smiles beaming as we lose ourselves in time.
When the band pauses, the crowd claps as Jett places his fingers between his lips and lets out a loud whistle. Baker finds us in the crowd, tipping his drink to us as he smiles over everyone watching him live out his passion.
“We’ve got a special guest tonight," he calls into the microphone. “Greer Emerson, ladies and gentlemen.”
I turn, gaping at Jett. “Did you know she sings?”
He nods. “You’re in for a treat.”
Greer steps onto the stage, shoulders squared as confidence pours off of her. The first notes of “Landslide” drift through the room, and my throat tightens. Her voice is velvet and raspy, familiar and new all at once. I lean into Jett, his arms folding around me as if he knows I need the connection.
“This is my funeral song,” I whisper, surprising myself at my admission.
He stiffens slightly. “Your what? What are you saying?”
“The song I want to be played at my funeral.”
He looks at me with worry.
“I’m fine, Jett. I’m talking in sixty years, when I’m good and ready. I want this song playing as people say their final goodbyes.”
“I-I…” he starts, jaw ticking. “It’s a great song.”
We fall back into silence as his thumb draws circles on my hip, the heat seeping through the material of my dress. A low thrum pulses with need as my skin isn’t the only thing heating with his touch.
When the song ends, the room erupts. Greer glows as she laughs through her waves to the crowd. Baker throws his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into a hug. He whispers something in her ear that the microphone doesn’t pick up. They separate as he strums another familiar chord on his guitar, and Greer bounces off the stage.
I reach for her arm as she tries to pass by. “You were incredible,” I shout over the music.
“Thanks,” she says, her eyes bouncing between Jett and I. “You two having fun?”
Jett dips his head as I offer her a wide smile. She squeezes my hand, as if she’s telling me how happy she is for us.
“I’m going to grab a drink. My throat needs it.”
The night rushes by after that. We dance along to more songs, share laughs, and I etch every moment into my memory.
With another long scrape of his hand over my hip, I glance up at Jett. Heat pools low, sharp and bright as desperation for his touch floods my veins.
“Take me home,” I demand.
He smiles slowly and knows. Gripping my hand, he doesn’t hesitate to pull me off the dance floor.
Chapter 29
Jett
