Deep down, I know I’d be a fool to get attached to Jace.
I sit with that thought a moment and recalibrate myself.
Because in four months, we’re filing for divorce. I’m his nanny and social media assistant. Nothing more.
When the guys emerge on stage, I’m not sure what I expect, but I’m nervous for them. This is a huge venue. I know they’ve played a million bars, but nothing like this festival. There are three pavilions, dozens of food trucks surrounding the fairgrounds, and probably ten thousand people milling around.
But their easygoing smiles make it seem like they’re old pros. Along the back of the stage, their logo with that compass appears on an LED backdrop.
I grab Layla’s feet in front of me. “I hope your daddy kills it tonight.” She kicks her little legs like she agrees. I pull out her headphones and get them situated on her head. I’m worried she’s going to hate them, but she doesn’t fuss, thank goodness.
When Jace grabs the mic, the girls in the front scream, and he grins. “Hey, beautiful people. We’re Wayward Sons, and we’restoked to hang out with y’all tonight. Gonna kick things off with a song you might know called ‘Dead Flowers.’”
My mouth drops open as his grin widens. Then he winks, and the girls next to me swear he’s winking at them.
But I kinda think it was for me.
Whatever magic he had this afternoon when he was singing in the bus doesn’t compare with his energy on stage. The band is on point. The lighthearted melody and quick rhythm offset the darker lyrics, but Jace steals the show with his captivating performance.
I get what he meant when he said they were a little country and a little rock. At times, the music hits harder than I’d imagine coming from a country band, but it’s offset by Jace’s charming drawl and his band’s powerful harmonies. Between his sexy rasp and confident swagger, Jace owns the stage within minutes.
Song after song, he pours his heart and soul into the mic, and the audience eats it up. I take several videos throughout their concert. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I’ll edit it later. Baylee said she’d help me if I got stuck.
I’m drenched in sweat by the time the set is done and light-headed. I should leave before the crowd starts to move around, but I can’t bring myself to go until I’m absolutely sure they’re not doing another song.
Jace grins at the crowd and purrs, “Daytona Beach, you’re every bit as beautiful as I thought you’d be.”
My smile freezes when I realize he’s likely not talking about the city. He’s probably eyeballing the gorgeous models who are bouncing around in itty-bitty bikinis in the front row.
Jesus, am I jealous right now? About my fake husband? I rub my temple, annoyed with myself.
This is why you don’t marry musicians. Because there’s no shortage of temptation on the road.
The truth is, he’ll never be my man. He’s my boss. He can flirt with the girls if he wants to as long as he doesn’t embarrass me outright. That was our agreement.
I blow out a breath, bracing myself for the next four months.
17
JACE
Gratitude settlesover me as I wave to the crowd. This moment right here has been a lifelong dream, and I fucking did it. I feel like I’m finally doing something with my life. Like my brothers won’t have to worry about me being a loser who bums beer money ’cause I’m broke.
It’s late when I reach the bus. I hadn’t meant to be out so long, but after we signed autographs, we were famished, so we grabbed dinner. The crowds were intense, and it took forever to get our food.
Our security guy, Edmond, greets me when I get to the bus.
“Everything good tonight?” I ask, hoping our weird stalker issues are really over.
“Nice and quiet. Rory and her baby arrived a while ago.”
I smile, not bothering to correct him that Layla is my baby and not Rory’s. “Great.”
Rory’s gonna be a wonderful mother someday. She’s responsible but kind and loving. Yes, she has a prickly exterior sometimes, but she’s always sweet with Layla, and I’m lucky to have her.
I tuck Rory’s food under my arm as I make it up the steps on the bus. She looked adorable today with the baby wrapped to her chest. And it gave me some sick satisfaction to watch her face when we kicked off the set with “Dead Flowers.” Haven’t played that in a while, but the guys didn’t care about the song list tonight, just that we were here.
After I check in with Frank, who’s reviewing the next few days with someone on the phone, I head to our bedroom. I won’t be surprised if the guys have friends over later, but the sleeping areas have sliding doors that help reduce the noise in the lounge.
