twenty

Her sister hadn’t spoken in hours. Not even when Graham swore when Jack showed him the cupcakes wilting in the cooler. Jack filled him in on what was happening with Harper, briefly allowing her worry over the effect it would have on the shop to seep into her voice. He’d told her to give it time. That he’d take over icing duties until Harper’s abilities returned to normal. All she could do was nod in agreement.

She looked up as a customer came in. Graham slipped into the back, letting his hand graze her hip on his way by.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Jack said to Pete.

His hair flopped in his face. Grinning at her, he said, “Epic term paper.”

“I don’t miss those.” She didn’t wait for him to order and pulled a gardenia cupcake from the case as the scent fluttered against her skin.

“So it made it on the menu?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t going to, but Graham said he didn’t bust his ass creating the flavor for nothing and added it to the rotation himself.”

“Smart man.”

“Yes, he is,” she agreed.

Pete leaned on the counter as he peeled back the wrapper. He inhaled deeply, watching her over the top of the cupcake. His blue eyes locked onto hers. “So, I know it’s last minute, but I’ve got it all planned out, Jaclyn.” He put his hand over hers on the counter and flashed a grin. He rushed on without giving her a chance to interrupt. “I’ve already staked out the best place to watch the race without being right down in it with everyone else. There’s this great little grassy area over on Coolidge where we can have a picnic.”

Jack slipped her hand from under his. It was damp from his sweat. Since he was watching her, waiting for a response, she didn’t try to wipe it off. “Oh, um, that’s really sweet. But Graham’s racing.”

“Even better. You can watch it from anywhere and he won’t know the difference.”

“I guess, but—”

“But your sister was right, huh? I don’t stand a chance against the baker,” he said.

Nobody does. Nobody ever will. But what she was going to do about it, she hadn’t decided. “I’m sorry, Pete.” She smiled, hoping to take some of the sting out of letting him down.

“Don’t be. Just promise me that if he’s dumb enough to let you go, you’ll give me a call.”

“Deal,” she said.

***

Harper walked around the shop the following day, rag in hand, wiping off the counter for the fourth time in an hour. The shop seemed imbued with her desolation. The tables refused to shine. The front door slammed shut on its own unless Jack propped a paint can against it. The display case was hazy, making the cupcakes look like color blobs in an impressionist painting.

The only thing Jack could sense was muggy air, which circulated through the open door.

“That’s it,” she said. “Put the rag down and step away from the counter.”

Harper blinked a few times. Her blue eyes were cloudy, distant. “What?”

“Nothing.”

She walked into the back and pulled a stack of folded paper from her purse. She skimmed the directions again and decided she had a pretty good idea where she was going.

“Wanna grab some dinner?” Graham asked.

Jack glanced up front to where Harper sat staring out the front window. “Um, no. I can’t. I kinda have something I need to do tonight.”

She shifted the paper with tour dates and times for Mason’s band under the drying rack.

“Yeah, that wasn’t evasive or anything.”

“I really do have something to do.”

Graham leaned on the door jamb and crossed his tree-trunk legs. Folding his arms across his chest, he said, “All right. Let me come with you.”

“Would you?” She perked up. “I mean, seriously, you’d go with me? Because that would be a lot less creepy and stalkerish.”

“What exactly are we doing? And who are we doing it to?”

She pulled the paper back out and showed it to him. She put her finger to her lips to keep him from reading it out loud. “I thought that if I could get him to talk to me that maybe I could get him to talk to Harper. And before you start the lecture, I know I should stay out of it, but she’s so unhappy and so damn stubborn. I just don’t want them to regret not trying to fix it.”

“Yeah, you probably should stay out of it,” he said. “What time do we leave?”

Within ten minutes, Jack had gone online and purchased tickets to that night’s show and made some excuse to Harper that her sister only half listened to. She swung by Graham’s place and smiled when he met her downstairs in dark jeans and a form-fitting black tee, which showed off his biceps and flat stomach. His hair was wet, his face smooth from a quick shave.

They talked the whole way about everything and nothing. It was so natural, all of the tension of the past few months—years, even—replaced by a new level of intimacy that made Jack’s skin buzz without sensing a specific desire from anyone but herself.

“Take a left here and it should be a couple blocks up on the right,” she said when they’d reached a suburb on the outskirts of Atlanta.

The Laundro-Lounge—billed as the place for all laundry and live entertainment needs—had a line trailing from the front door and winding down the sidewalk for two blocks in each direction.

“I didn’t know they were so popular,” Graham said.

“Me, either.”

Graham navigated the crowds with the dexterity of a concert veteran. Holding on to her hand, he weaved through the throng of metalheads and punk rockers. He located the will-call line, which was only ten people deep.

They slipped in behind a trio of girls who couldn’t have been more than nineteen. Twenty, tops. In their miniscule black skirts, torn black hose, and combat boots, they were the quintessential hard-rock groupies. Jack didn’t have a scrap of black on. She hoped the tight navy tee would at least come off as marginally hard-core. Her tattoo added a smidge of credibility. There was nothing she could do about her one-color hair.

The sudden rush of air sent a shiver up her arms. She smelled cinnamon and whiskey seconds before the girls pulled out a flask and each took a quick swig in turn. They grinned at her and turned away, giggling.

Graham picked up their tickets and they shuffled through the door. The bouncer checked their IDs and strapped hot-pink bands to their arms. Inside the light was dim at best. The laundromat, in the far back of the downstairs, was separated from the rest by glass doors. The florescent lights flickered as if in protest. There was a small bar, three pool tables, and a makeshift stage.

They followed the mass of people up the dank concrete staircase to the main stage. It emptied into a large room stuffed with people and wailing guitars. The music pumping from speakers vibrated down to her bones. Another bar teemed with people jockeying to get the bartender’s attention.

Jack spotted Mason moping around stage with his bass. While his band mates thrashed and jumped, he stayed tethered to his amp, eyes closed as if wishing he was anywhere else. She grabbed Graham’s shoulder and pulled him toward her. “They’re already on,” she yelled.

Graham leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. “We’ll catch him after.” He turned and headed into the din.

She clutched at the back of his shirt, fisting it in her hand. He couldn’t get more than a step away from her without being pulled back. They weaved through the crowd and found a pocket of space near the right side of the stage where she had a clear view of her brother-in-law. Her vision blurred with tears. She blinked them back and took a deep breath. “He looks bad,” she said.

She didn’t realize she was still holding onto Graham’s shirt until he reached back and pried her hand away. But instead of letting it go, he let their joined hands drop between them. “I would, too,” Graham said.

Jack smiled as the scents of leather and smoke and beer that permeated the bar were replaced with sweet, subtle smell of mint and lime. It made her dizzy. She held on to him as much for support as to be close to him.

They played three songs she didn’t know and a heartbreaking cover of a Sarah McLachlan song. By the time Talking on Mute finished its set, the crowd pulsed with a near-violent energy. The screams for an encore echoed. Jack could see a sliver of backstage, where Mason disappeared into a mass of black-clad bodies.

“Ready to do this?” Graham asked.

As they walked downstairs, her ears started to buzz. She pumped her jaw to pop them. The sounds of footsteps and fast talking reverberated in the stairwell. She trailed after Graham to join the line by the merchandise table.

“What if he doesn’t want to see us?” she asked.

“It’s a little late for that now,” Graham said. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.

She squeezed his in return. “I know.”

After a few minutes, the band emerged from another stairwell at the back of the bar, sweaty and with beers in hand. They packed in behind the table and greeted fans.

Jack picked up a CD from the table and moved along the line to have it signed. She watched Mason as he sat signing liner notes, CD faces and, every so often, body parts.

“You a fan?” one of the band members asked.

“The biggest,” Jack said. Her voice was a little overeager. She sounded half drunk. Nerves buzzed like annoying gnats in her ears.

“So, how many shows have you been to?”

“Just this one. But it was fantastic.”

“So how are you our biggest fan if this is your first show?”

“I’m his biggest fan.” She pointed to Mason and continued, “I actually think I’m the founder and president of the Mason-Shaw-is-the-coolest-brother-in-law-ever fan club.”

He stared at her—the bar in his tongue caught the light and flashed. Shaking his head in confusion, he hit Mason on the shoulder with the back of his hand. His metal bracelets clanged like bells. “Dude, you know this chick?”

Mason stared at her, unsmiling. He rose and turned his back on her. He said something to his band mates that she couldn’t hear. Jack reached out to keep him from leaving. Her fingernails skimmed his soft sleeve. He leaned over the table and hugged her hard. His metal cuffs dug into her back.

A few of the groupies giggled and whispered how they hoped they got a hug, too. One guy wolf whistled. Somewhere close by, someone yelled for them to get a room. She jumped when Mason grabbed her ass. Graham closed in on them. His hand was firm and hot on the small of her back.

“Just playing,” Mason said. He held his hands in front of him to ward off Graham.

“How are you?” Jack asked.

The pain crept into his features. She watched him control it until he merely looked irritated. The black eyeliner intensified his stare, making her wonder if she’d imagined the hurt.

“Getting by,” he said. Then added, “Barely.”

“She’s not any better. If that helps.”

“Marginally.” He motioned them around the edge of the table to keep the line flowing. He introduced them to the rest of the band.

A few of them glared at her as if she had been the one to break his heart, not her sister. She attempted a smile.

“Y’all were awesome,” she said.

Graham got out money to pay for the CD.

“Harp has that one,” Mason said, waving off the money. “You can probably just get it from her. I’m guessing she won’t want to keep that, either.”

“I’m gonna let her make that call. But just a word of advice from someone who’s known her a hell of a long time: If you want a say in what she does or doesn’t do, you’re not gonna get it by keeping your mouth shut. You don’t have to forgive her, but you do need to talk to her,” Graham said.

Jack moved in closer so Mason could hear her over the babbling of excited fans. “Speaking for purely selfish reasons, I’d like you to forgive her. It’s been nice having you around, and I’d kinda like to keep you as my brother-in-law. But I understand if that’s not something you can do.”

“I honestly don’t know what to do yet,” he said. “But if y’all want to hang around for me to be done, we can grab a bite or coffee or something. It’d be really nice to talk about all of this with someone who doesn’t hate her. The guys are ready to kill her.”

Listening to the conversation, two of the closest band members grumbled. Both Jack and Mason glared at them. It did no good. They rolled their black-lined eyes and proceeded to ignore her completely. She moved off to the side while they signed even more merchandise.

The steady stream of fans dwindled after a half hour. The last stragglers were ushered out of the club a little before midnight. Jack and Graham waited outside while the band packed up and loaded the van. The musicians were meticulous, wrapping cords in tight circles and securing picks and drumsticks in pouches. Each instrument had a particular spot in the back of the van. With one member in the van, the others lined up, handing him items to arrange. He shouted triumphantly when it all fit with a small two-foot-square space left open.

She began to wonder if Mason had really meant for them to stay. Scribbling on a rumpled piece of paper, he said something to the guitarist before waving them all off. He handed her directions and said he’d meet them in fifteen minutes, give or take.

***

The diner was bright and smelled of grease and pie. The lights flickered a blinding white along the top of the windows, reflecting off of the glossy tabletops as if they were mirrors. The ancient booth cushions were battered, torn and sunken in. The white vinyl was dingy, gray in the more popular booths.

“How about that one?” Graham said, pointing to the table farthest from the other patrons.

Jack scooted into the booth, and though it was big enough to seat six comfortably, Graham sat close enough for his hand to graze her thigh. “Thanks for coming with me. I know you’ve got too much to do for Twilight to be spending the night with me,” she said.

“I think I can handle taking one night off,” he said.

Mason came in a few minutes later, wearing considerably less makeup. What he hadn’t managed to wipe away was smeared around his eyes in thick, black smudges. The days-old whiskers and perpetually disheveled hair didn’t help his appearance.

Jack suppressed the urge to hug him.

“Sorry,” he said, sliding into the booth across from them. “Didn’t really want to talk in front of the guys. They’re not too keen on me taking Harper back.”

“I can understand that,” Graham said.

“Do you think you will?” Jack asked at the same time.

“No idea.” Mason shifted on the seat. It squeaked his discomfort. “Dude,” he said after a moment. He drew a circle in the air around his eye. “Heard about that.”

“You talked to Harper?” he asked.

“Nah. Hutton.”

Jack’s hand froze halfway to the small glass of water the waitress had left with the menus. “He called you?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t have answered it, but I was kinda hoping it was one of you two,” he said. “In person is way better though.”

When the waitress came to take their order, both guys ordered like they hadn’t eaten in weeks. Jack started to order a coffee and a plate of cheese fries when the sweet scent of strawberries and biscuits and Cool Whip hit her from across the restaurant. Licking her lips, she changed her order.

She placed the sticky menu back in the holder on the table and scrubbed her hands with a napkin. The paper clung to her fingers like a spiderweb. She shook her hand to dislodge it. “What did Hutton want?”

“Did he apologize for being such a colossal jerk?” Graham asked.

“He just wanted to talk. Said everyone, me included, had a right to hate him. He didn’t say he was sorry, but I got the impression he’d already had to apologize to enough people.”

“He hasn’t really, but he will. And I doubt any of us will make it easy on him,” Jack said.

“From everything Harp told me about him, I never expected him to act like that. I kinda thought we’d hit it off like gangbusters.”

Jack laughed. “He’s usually really cool.”

“Until you decide to like one of his sisters,” Graham said. His tone emphasized the things left unsaid. “You have the advantage, though, because you’ve already made it legal with Harper. There’s not much he can do to stand in your way if you decide to take her back.”

“He asked what I was going to do and I honestly have no idea. I love her and I’m miserable without her, but what she did…I don’t know that I can get over that. I mean, could either of you?” Mason asked.

Graham shrugged. “We’re not here to try to convince you either way. Though we would both like to see you work things out. I just think that there are enough people out there already who miss their opportunity at happiness, or screw it up so royally that they don’t have a clue how to get it back. We don’t want that to be you.”

“Or Harper,” Jack added. “I know she’s been a pain in the ass and there’s no excuse for it, but you can’t believe she’d ever do anything to intentionally hurt you.”

Jack shifted on the seat. Her hand brushed Graham’s and he curled a pinky around hers. Heat pulsed from the small point of contact.

“I know. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less,” Mason said. “I also know that she would kick your asses if she knew you were here.”

“Yeah, she would,” Graham agreed. He shrugged again as if to say too damn bad.

“She wants to fix this,” Jack said.

“If Harp wanted to talk to me, she would. She’d never send someone else to smooth things over. That’s not her style.”

“She’s not one to grovel, either. Just remember that,” Graham said.

***

On the drive home, Graham kept turning his attention from the dark road to watch her sleep. Her head was tilted back, her lips open. He turned the volume down and trained his eyes on the road. Headlights glinted off the cars as they streaked by in flecks of red, silver, and black. He readjusted his grip on the wheel and glanced at her again. Her chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths. Her hand lay open on her leg as if she was holding hands with someone in her sleep.

He wondered if she was dreaming of him.

He hated to wake her when he parked behind his apartment. Rubbing his hand along her face, he cupped her cheek, whispered her name. Her eyes blinked open, unfocused, hazy. Her lips parted, curving into a smile that shot a burst of heat through his body.

“We’re back,” he said.

“Sorry I fell asleep,” she said. Her voice was husky, and did nothing to calm the boiling in his blood. She leaned into his touch as her eyes fluttered closed again.

Pulling his hand away, he got out, walked to her side, and tried again. He leaned on the door frame, the metal cool against his arm. He looked down at her as she fought through the webbing of sleep. His granddad’s gravelly voice echoed in his head. “Watch out, kid. You’ll be in love before you even realize it. And there ain’t nothin’ you can do about it.”

Something dislodged in his memory.

He could see Jack’s face, young and happy. Her brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight filtering through the tree branches above them. Her smile was intoxicating. In his dream state, he didn’t blink as something in him yearned to touch her.

The desire to touch her was stronger now as he watched her. As if the years of resistance multiplied the need. He could taste the sweet flavor of strawberries that marked their first touch. He blinked in the dim light. Her eyes were open now, locked on his. Neither moved. They barely breathed.

A soft golden glow emanated from her skin. It stretched between them, reaching toward him with thin, shimmering tendrils that wrapped around his wrists and shot into his blood with a hot rush.

Graham wrapped his arm around her waist as she slid from the seat. His fingers rested on her hip, holding her close.

Yawning, she laid her head on his shoulder as they walked.

Graham pressed a light kiss to her hair. “You’re practically dead on your feet. You should go to bed,” He turned down the alleyway that led to his apartment. Good thing I happen to have a one that’s very easy to get to.”

Pulling away from him, Jack tucked her hands in her pockets. “Just because it’s easy doesn’t mean we should,” she said.

He winced at the hurt in her voice. Words swarmed in his brain, but refused to line up in any semblance of coherent order. “I didn’t mean it that way. Just stay with me tonight. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, Jack.”

She backed up a few steps, not taking her eyes off him. She held her hands in front of her to keep him from getting too close. “That’s just it, Graham. If I stay, it will be. Maybe not to you, but I want it to mean something. I don’t just want to be here because it’s convenient or easy. I know I may be ruining everything, but I really need to know what we’re doing.”

He took her hands and tugged her down to the steps at the back door. The stones were cool beneath him. His heart pounded as he looked at her. Now or never.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to work with you every day knowing what it’s like to kiss you and not be able to?” he asked.

Jack traced her fingertip over the rough burn scars on the back of his hand. She didn’t look at him when she said, “It didn’t seem to have that effect on you when we were in high school.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d always assumed she’d known he and Hutton had had a fight. He didn’t think she knew it was about her, but had figured she knew Hutton was the reason he’d stayed away, not her.

“You thought I didn’t enjoy it?” he asked. He tried to keep his tone light. But his stomach muscles tightened at the idea of her thinking she hadn’t been good enough for him.

He yanked her back when she stood and tried to walk away.

“You kiss me one day out of the blue, and then I don’t see you for three months. What else was I supposed to think?” she said. Her voice wavered so he had to listen hard to catch every word.

“I told Hutton how I felt about you and he asked me if you were the one. When I said I wasn’t sure, we fought about it, and he told me to stay the hell away from you. He said that if I even looked in your direction, he would never speak to me again.” He clutched her hand as if she was the only thing tethering him to the ground. “He was, and still is, the best friend I’ve ever had. And after everything with my dad, I couldn’t take the chance of hurting you and having you both hate me,” he said.

Staring at his feet, he waited for her to say something, anything. The only sound in the courtyard was the faint trickle of the fountain in the far corner.

“I’m guessing since you’re with me tonight instead of hanging out with him that this fight turned out differently?” she asked after a few more seconds.

The relief was so intense he wanted to laugh. Graham shifted to cup her face as he had years before—fingers flirting with the base of her neck, thumbs pressing lightly along her jaw. Her body tensed, but she didn’t pull away. “You’re it, Jack. I knew it back then and was too scared to do anything about it. I won’t make that mistake again.”

One corner of Jack’s mouth ticked up in a smile. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

That one small spark was all it took for them to catch fire.

The wave of need rolled through him so quickly that he couldn’t see straight. In the dim light from the street lamps, he watched her. The dreamy-eyed sixteen-year-old was gone. In her place was a woman just as desperate as he was.

She tugged at his shirt to bring him closer.

Graham went willingly. He fisted his hands in her hair. Dragging her head back, he grazed his teeth down her neck. She tasted like summer and lime. He pressed her back into the rock, sliding one arm under her and bracing the other on the steps. His fingers grazed the smooth skin where her shirt rode up. He pushed the fabric up another inch.

A crowd whistled and whooped as they walked by the courtyard entrance. Graham kissed her again and managed a breathless, “Upstairs. Now.”

***

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Jack took his hands and went with him when he pulled her to her feet. Her legs trembled. Then her bones melted altogether when he pressed her against the wall and kissed her senseless. His hands were hot against her shirt despite the cool night air. His mouth desperate as he tugged on her bottom lip. Her body hummed against his. He shifted, pulling her hips closer, bending her back just enough to expose her neck. He trailed his lips along her jaw, down her neck and along her collarbone. His teeth scraping lightly as he went, sending a trail of shivers rocking through her body. She had to lean a hand on the wall to steady herself when he released her.

Her vision was foggy as he opened the door and led her upstairs. Worried he’d disappear if she looked away, she didn’t take her eyes off him. Jack concentrated on his shoulders, the curve of his neck. Leaning into him, she pressed her lips to the soft skin below his ear. His pulse was jumping.

Graham stopped and looked down at her. “I’m trying really hard to make it into the apartment,” he murmured against her forehead. He kissed her brow and continued up the stairs.

“Sorry,” Jack said, suppressing a laugh. She’d never felt more wanted in her life. And she intended to enjoy every second of it.

They tumbled into his living room after he unlocked the door. His keys clattered to the floor. His hands were on her, tugging her shirt up before he managed to kick the door shut. She let go of him long enough to shrug out of it. Her skin was on fire where his fingers raked across it.

He backed her down the hall toward his bedroom, hands roaming over her as he walked. Her skin sparked with every touch. She half expected to see finger-shaped scorch marks trailing from her breasts to the top of her jeans. She would’ve welcomed the burns if it meant he’d never stop touching her. Pressing against him, she whispered his name. A plea to the universe to let her live in the moment forever.

Jack dug her nails into Graham’s shoulders to keep from falling when her calves hit the edge of his bed. His heart hammered in time to hers. His eyes, so familiar, had a golden glow to them that pulsed in the light. The color shifted, expanding and contracting in a vibrant circle around his dark pupils. Transfixed, she stared at him, unable to pinpoint what about him had changed in the last few minutes.

The air rippled as if a window had been opened. A whiff of mint and lime permeated the room, making her dizzy. She closed her eyes, letting the desire wash over her, seeping into her pores and whispering that all he’d ever wanted was her. And somehow she knew without a doubt that it was true. Meeting his stare, she shivered.

“I’ve never been so happy to see a bed in my life,” Graham said. And he lowered her onto it.

Laughing, she said, “If you wanna just go to sleep—”

He caged her with his arms and bit her bottom lip. “Honey, we might never sleep again.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t.”