“He never looks like he wants to get away from you,” Sparrow whispered in her ear.
Roxie looked over and smiled at Sparrow, then shook her head. “He’s good at what he does,” she said.
Sparrow’s eyes gleamed as she smiled bigger. “You’re beautiful, Roxie. And nice, smart, sexy … trust me, he notices.”
“Hey, you’re not playing matchmaker, are you? Nuh-uh, don’t get any ideas. Not interested.” Roxie took another gulp of her drink. “Where’s Ian?”
Sparrow made a face. “He’s changing Journey and himself. She had a blow-out and managed to ruin both of their outfits. Thankfully, Anthony found a shirt for him to borrow.”
Roxie pressed her lips together, but still busted up. “I can’t believe I missed that!”
Just then Ian walked toward them wearing a tight, short-sleeve denim cowboy shirt. Roxie and Sparrow lost it all over again. Roxie wiped her eyes as Ian reached them. He held Journey facing out, so she could see everything. Her feet kicked happily.
“Well howdy, Partner.” Sparrow could hardly get the words out.
Ian eyed the two of them and his lip quirked up to one side. He shook his head and looked down at Journey.
“You’re all happy now, aren’t you, pumpkin?” She looked up at him and gave him a dimpled grin. “Yeah,” he cooed at her. “I’d feel good too if I’d gotten rid of more than double my body weight in POO.”
Journey giggled and bounced up and down. When she saw her mom and Roxie laughing, she laughed and bounced harder.
Anthony asked Sparrow to dance, and Ian and Roxie chatted for a few minutes while she finished her drink. She moved toward the dance floor, unable to stay away for too long, ever. Justin and Vanessa were slow dancing and oblivious to everyone else. They were up and down, their lust and disgust for each other seesawing back and forth every day. Today appeared to be up for them. Brad and Shelton seemed to only have eyes for each other too.
Great. The tour is gonna be one huge hook-up, she thought. She wondered if Brooke and Beckham might be a possibility … if they’d ever had any of the intense moments she’d had with him. It didn’t matter; in fact, it might even help her to get past these confusing thoughts she kept having about him if he’d focus on someone else. Shoving Beckham out of her mind, she closed her eyes and began to move.
She didn’t even open her eyes when she felt his hand in hers. He brought her body flush with his and they moved without any thought. She felt his lips brush against her neck and then by her ear.
He whispered, “I don’t want to dance with anyone but you.”
She didn’t say a word, just allowed her movements to say all that needed to be said.
Just a few days after the New Year, the buses rolled out of the warehouse parking lot long before the sun came up. Headed to northern California, they were officially on the road.
“Think you can live with me on this bus the whole tour?” Beckham asked Sierra.
“Ugh. I don’t know,” Sierra groaned. “It’s a long time.
Beckham threw a pillow at her. “C’mon. You love me.”
She smiled. “I am glad to not be cramped with people I don’t know. Thank you for that.” She looked around. “And this is a pretty sweet bus.” She propped her feet up on the couch. “You’ve done really well for yourself, little brother.”
He sat down across from her and waited for a jibe to come.
It didn’t.
“You sure you’re ready to give all this up?” she whispered.
He’d told her to be careful of what she said, with the bus driver in close range. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him exactly, but he’d learned the hard way that people could be bought fairly easily for a story. Just one more thing he was tired of … never knowing which one of his ‘friends’ would spill their guts to a gossip magazine.
“I … yeah. I think so.”
There was something about this tour that already seemed different, though. He felt more grounded, less anxious. He didn’t know if it was being around the most laid-back man he’d ever been around—Ian—or if it was the way the songs had all become new again. Roxie made him feel…
He searched for the word in his mind—what did she make him feel?—and realized it was simply that she made him feel at all. After years of numbing his feelings, his emotions were waking up, and it was as if he was trying to walk on feet that had fallen asleep. He was a prickly, stumbling mess, but it still felt better than being dead.
He turned the conversation to non-threatening topics and they chatted all the way to San Jose. It was always a little rough the first few days of the tour, getting into the swing of things, but he’d worked with the same crew the last three tours, so he had no worries. They were scheduled to eat a late lunch and then everyone would do a quick soundcheck. By next week, someone else would do the soundcheck for him and he would mostly be free during the day.
Roxie was the first one Beckham saw when he went to eat.
“Come sit with me,” he said before he could stop himself.
“Yeah, but you’re … Beckham Woods.” She put a shaking hand to her mouth and looked at him with awed eyes.
Beckham leaned in closer and gave her a cocky smile. “Did you just now notice that?”
“Maybe.” Roxie smirked.
She looked at the tables filling up around them. It was a large room to fit the camera crew, lights crew, stagehands, dancers, backup singers…
“Do you even know who all these people are?” she whispered. “Some I’ve never even seen before today!”
“Of course I do!”
“Are they gonna think it’s weird that we’re sitting together? Am I taking someone’s seat? It is kinda weird, right? Why are you being so nice to me?” She rambled and then clamped her hand over her mouth and turned those piercing eyes on him until he squirmed.
“I like you, okay?”
“You like me?” Roxie’s nose crinkled up.
“Yes. I do.” He tried to look in her eyes, but couldn’t stop looking at her mouth.
“You don’t know me, and I’ve been a bit spiteful to you,” she said.
“Oh, I got that. You’re a kitten with claws,” he teased softly. “But I think it’s an act.” He held up his hand when she started to argue. “Sparrow loves you, and I’ve come to think she’s a very wise person.”
“Sparrow loves everyone,” Roxie said, smiling fondly.
“No … she … wouldn’t if you were … cruel,” he stuttered. “I see you with everyone else and even though you’re sassy, you’re one of the nicest people here. I like all of what I know so far.”
She played with her ear lobe and looked almost shy. “How can you say I’m nice after the way I’ve treated you?” She shook her head. “An act, huh? Interesting.”
“Exactly,” he laughed, “you’re a mystery that I want to solve.”
“What fun would that be? A mystery is only fun because of the unknown. Once you figure it out, you’ll be on to other mysteries.”
He nodded. “I can see where you’d think that. But here’s the deal, Roxie,” he leaned in closer to her, “and let’s just stop talking ‘hypothetically’ about mysteries here … I want to know you. Period. The fact that you’re mysterious doesn’t make me want to know you more or less; in fact, it’s just getting in my way at the moment.”
She blinked fast and looked away. Her mouth curved just slightly, like she was holding back a grin.
“I hope you’ll like me a little better this time around,” he said.
And just like that, all the progress Beckham thought he was making fell apart, as her face clouded over and her eyes grew hard.
She stood up from the table and leaned over to whisper into Beckham’s ear.
“I work for you. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. We don’t need to know each other. Got it?”
She stood up straight and was about to walk away when Beckham put his hand on her arm.
“Roxie? You might say that now, but
we’re just getting started onstage together. You tell me all I need to know when you dance with me. It’s a different beast with the energy of a crowd out there. You’ll be addicted to what that pulls out of you. Every. Single. Night.”
He grinned as her eyes got huge and laughed as she walked away. He couldn’t wait to get on that stage with her in just a few short hours.
The first show was a huge success, receiving acclaim from the critics:
‘Kept the audience hypnotized…’
‘Woods exuded an effortless charisma that Sterling matched perfectly. The two of them together are sizzling magic.’
‘Hearing the fusion of these two superstars is the ultimate experience…’
Beckham didn’t see Roxie the next day. He had an interview set up at the bus with Rolling Stone. He didn’t want to talk about his addictions anymore and it always went back to that or whoever he might be dating. He let his bodyguard, Howie, know exactly how much time he intended to spend with the journalist and when Howie should intervene.
After lunch, there was a knock and Howie walked in.
“Mirielle Wethers from Rolling Stone to see you?” Howie said.
“Send her in.”
A gorgeous redhead walked in wearing tight jeans and a T-shirt. Her cleavage was the first red flag. The determination in her eyes was the second. It should have been the other way around, but he knew her type. The two usually went hand-in-hand when the woman led with her breasts. He had it right the first time.
“Beckham Woods?” she purred. “Mirielle Wethers. Thank you for meeting me.”
“You’re new,” he said with an edge.
“Are you gonna hold it against me?” She sat down on the couch next to him, leaning forward.
Beckham groaned. “Tell Matt I’m holding this against him. The bastard.” Beckham knew Matt, his favorite journalist at the magazine, was trying to bait him with an overly eager sexpot who was willing to do whatever necessary to boost her career off of this interview.
Mirielle stuck her candy red lips out in a pout, pretending to be wounded. “Aw, come on. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot. There are much better ways to get off…” She licked her lips slowly.
Beckham moved to the other couch. “Shall we start the interview?”
After twenty minutes of trying to steer Mirielle’s line of questioning to something other than his rehab stint and the actresses he’d last been seen with, he stood up.
“If we can’t talk about the music, I’m done here.”
She stood up and touched his arm. “I need this interview, please give me something…”
“If you can’t find anything worth writing about in the music, either I’m doing something wrong or you’re not meant to do this.”
The fire lit in her eyes and she stepped back like she’d been hit.
“Tell Matt I missed him. You can see your way out.” Beckham pointed to the door, just as there was a knock.
Howie walked in and nodded at them both. “Your next appointment is here,” he said.
“Look, Mr. Woods, I just need a little more of your time, please. Can you … please give me a few more minutes?” She gave Howie a dismissive wave.
“I’m all out of minutes,” Beckham said. “Howie? Can you escort Miss Wethers out?”
Mirielle stood there for a few seconds, fuming. She looked at Beckham and then decided to change her tactics.
“Thank you for your time.” She leaned over, her chest rubbing against his as she kissed his cheek.
His breath caught and he stepped back. Mirielle smiled, at least part of her mission complete as she left the tour bus.
Going backstage after sound check, he went searching for the green room. He had junk food on the brain and needed to hunt some down. Opening the door, he realized he was in the wrong room right away, but then noticed movement in the corner. The room was sparse; a few speakers and cases were on the floor, and a couple of poles that went into the rafters of the exposed ceiling. Roxie was circling one and Beckham lost all rational thought when she jumped on it, landing high, and did the splits before winding her legs back around the pole and going upside down. She dropped and he jumped forward to help her, but she hadn’t fallen, she was just working her way back up the pole without ever touching the ground. Faster and faster and faster she turned, her legs flying and flawless. She moved until he was dizzy. Time leaped into fast forward motion and her movements spoke to him from somewhere cavernous. She slowed and her head faced the floor and her legs reached up to the ceiling … and then she was right side up again.
Oh please, don’t let it end. Beckham blinked and she was standing by the pole, circling it the way she had been when he came in.
He’d never seen anything so erotic and he’d seen plenty try. Nothing had ever come close to watching her.
She turned; her face radiant. Her mouth dropped when she saw him. He closed his mouth when hers opened.
She started to say something then stopped.
He stepped forward. “Roxie. That was … unbelievable.”
“Favorite class I’ve ever taken—pole dancing,” she said, blushing.
“You can’t be embarrassed. You were born to do that.” He pointed like an imbecile. She’d rendered him stupid. “Everyone deserves to see you on a pole,” he said, eyes twinkling.
“Not gonna happen,” she said.
“Just me then…” He let his eyes wander down her body again and nodded in appreciation. “Yeah, I’d prefer that too.”
She groaned, but he caught her smile right before she turned and left the room.
Anthony was right. The crowd went insane when Sparrow came onstage. They didn’t dance—it was all Ian could do to get her to come out in front of the crowd, but she let him serenade her. It had been a hit every night thus far and was something Ian looked forward to now in the show. He saw her standing to the side, waiting for her cue, and winked. She started out nervous each night but relaxed once she moved toward him. It was a song he’d written for her when they’d been broken up, not his usual gritty blues-filled soul, but his heart pouring out. It was no secret she’d brought out the sap in him. He smirked to himself … yeah, so much of a sap that it was a struggle for him to keep it together every night to sing the song.
The strings and guitar played the opening notes and Ian began to sing.
I remember once upon a time
When your heart and mine became entwined
A world of wonder testified that we were meant to be
It was this moment that Sparrow made her entrance, and the applause was deafening…
It was like a fairytale romance
Two enchanted lovers holding hands
We vowed that time and circumstance would never come between…
And now we’ve learned it’s not as easy as it seems
And real life can steal the magic from our dreams
But I believe true love was made for times like these
Sparrow’s eyes filled each time he got to the chorus. She gave him a shaky smile and he leaned over to give her a quick kiss, earning another roar from the crowd. Her skin was hot from being flushed and nervous.
And I believe in happy-ever-after
You and me and love will find an answer
Darlin’, this is not the final chapter of our true love story
I remember warm December nights
Starry skies and snow-white mountain heights
Eyes that danced like candlelight to an ageless song
Snapshot memories of moments past
Come back like forgotten photographs
The love we made was made to last for a lifetime long
It’s true that life can do its damage to our dreams
And love is not always as easy as it seems
But I believe true love was made for times like these
And I believe in happy-ever-after
You and me and love will find an answer
Darlin’, this is not the final chapte
r of our true love story
I may not be your knight in shining armor anymore
But I believe that we are still worth fighting for
If you’ll only kiss me and say that you’ll forgive me
I know we can get that magic feeling back once more
Before the last chorus, the music cut back and he stopped and held her against him as he sang it one more time. When the final notes rang out, he put his hands on her face and kissed her. He didn’t care if thousands of people were cheering or not. He lived to love this woman.
“You and me and love,” she whispered before walking away.
He felt that tug he always felt when she walked away—like he wanted nothing more than to run after her.
“I love you, baby!” He yelled in the microphone.
She laughed and flushed as everyone stomped and screamed.
Normally when he was done for the night, Sparrow and Journey were somewhere backstage, either hanging out in one of the green rooms or talking to Roxie and Sierra. Tonight, Sierra found him first and told him to hurry to the bus.
“Sparrow fell right after she walked off the stage. She says she’s fine, but her foot is bruised and huge.” She winced when she saw his face. “Anthony and a paramedic are with her now.”
He rushed through the parked buses until he reached theirs. He nearly ran over Anthony in his hurry. He was trying to console Journey, who stopped fussing when she saw Ian, reaching out for him to take her. She smiled at Anthony once she was in Ian’s arms, the little rascal. Anthony chuckled and rolled his eyes.
Ian moved past him and hurried to Sparrow. He kissed her cheek and assessed her eyes before he looked at her foot. He knew she hated crying in front of people, even him, but he couldn’t believe she wasn’t bawling. It was bad.