Diamond (7 page)

Diamond looked down at the wad of money in her hand and resisted the urge to throw it in his face. Her lips thinned as she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from shouting.

“My pleasure,” she drawled, as she turned and walked away.

Jesse watched her until she entered the sandwich shop and knew that he’d taken two steps backward in an already tenuous relationship.

“Well goddammit it all to hell,” he muttered, and stomped back into the studio.

The drive home that evening was long and uncomfortable, the conversation stilted. Diamond refused to look at Jesse when she spoke. She was afraid to. What was in her heart was too obvious to hide from his all-seeing gaze.

Jesse didn’t force the issue. He wasn’t certain what had prompted her reticence, but he knew enough about women to leave them alone sometimes, especially when one balled up like a fighting cat. He’d seen what she could do with a right hook and had no intention of starting something he didn’t want to finish.

“Good,” Jesse said as he pulled into the garage and parked. “Henley’s back.”

It was the first thing he’d said that had gotten her attention. Henley? This was something…and someone new. She was out of the car before Jesse had unbuckled his seat belt.

Diamond’s mouth watered as the smell of chicken and dumplings drifted from the open kitchen window. An unladylike growl rumbled around her midsection. She frowned as Jesse’s mouth twitched with suppressed mirth.

“Who’s Henley?” she asked, determined not to respond to his teasing grin.

“That would be me, miss,” a man answered, his deep voice echoing within the garage walls. “And you’re just in time. Supper is served,” he announced before disappearing back into the house.

“Supper?…is served?” she echoed.

Jesse grinned. “Henley is big on ceremony. But the evening meal has been supper all my life. Just because I can pay all my bills on time doesn’t mean I’m all of a sudden eating ‘dinner.’ However, Henley insists on announcing something, so ‘supper’ is served.”

“Good,” Diamond said as she headed toward the door. “I’m starved.”

“I heard,” Jesse said.

Diamond stuck out her tongue and then beat him to the door. “A gentleman wouldn’t have called attention to the fact that my stomach growled.”

“I’m no gentleman,” he said quietly, so close behind her that tendrils of her hair brushed across his face. He inhaled and then closed his eyes.

His breath feathered across the back of her neck, sending a shiver of desire through her. But Diamond refused to let her imagination take hold. With food in front of her and Jesse behind her, there was only one way to run.

“Give me five minutes to wash up,” Diamond said on her way up the stairs. “And don’t start without me. I’m—”

“I know, I know. You’re starving. Right?”

She left muttered comments lingering in her wake. There were none he felt warranted deciphering, as the tone of her voice told him enough.

He smiled, and then began to laugh. He’d distinctly heard her stomach grumble one last time just before she’d left.

Joe Henley’s eyebrows arched into two perfect angles that pointed toward his sparse red hair and receding hairline. His mouth twitched with undisguised mirth as he gave his employer the once-over.

“Houseguest, sir?”

Jesse grinned. Henley was a master of understatement and tact.

“Sort of, but not what you’re thinking. That lady has a near-perfect singing voice. I found her singing in one of the most god-awful places I’ve ever seen. All I did was offer her a chance out and a shot at a career she richly deserves. No strings attached.”

“Of course,” Henley agreed. “No strings at all, sir.”

Jesse frowned. “And I thought I told you to quit calling me ‘Sir,’ dammit.”

“I didn’t call you ‘Sir Dammit.’ I simply called you ‘Sir,’” Henley said. “If you wish to change your title, Mr. Eagle, all you need to do is let me know. I’d be more than happy to—”

Jesse started to smile. Sarcasm was thick in his voice as he sauntered toward the kitchen. “Just shut the hell up, Henley. You win. You always do. And that chicken and dumplings is making my mouth water. Hope you made plenty. The lady is—”

“Yes sir. I believe she’s starving.”

Henley retied the bib apron he wore over his dress pants and white short-sleeved shirt and adjusted his bow tie, readying for the meal he was about to serve. He knew people. From the bit that he’d seen of her, the lady
was
starving—but not necessarily for food, more likely acceptance. He’d seen the look in her eyes, and he’d seen similar looks on women’s faces a lifetime ago, half a world away. In Saigon, and again in the jungles of Cambodia. And they’d all meant one thing. A complete and encompassing distrust of the human race, with men at the top of the list.

Henley pushed aside these thoughts as he began to carry the food to the table. What happened between that woman and his employer was none of his business…absolutely none at all. And he kept his vow to remain neutral up to the time she asked for seconds. By the time he’d served her a third helping of his cooking, his opinion of Jesse’s guest had changed. She at least trusted his cooking.

Diamond smiled to herself, remembering the rich chicken and dumplings and the look of surprise that had swept Henley’s face when she’d asked for more. Sparring with the short, stocky man had taken the edge off having to converse solely with Jesse. In fact, now that she thought about it, she’d almost ignored him.

Diamond leaned against the porch post and stared across the meadow, grinning at the young foal’s foolish antics as he raced along the fences that held him at bay. His mother, the mare, grazed quietly on the thick green grass, always keeping her youngster in sight as she ate her fill.

Diamond stretched, stepped off the porch, and started walking toward the corrals. An evening breeze had sprung up only moments ago but was already well on its way to cooling off the heat of the day. A crow cawed loudly beyond the thick band of trees surrounding the house, while another answered from a distance away. She shaded her eyes against the setting sun and watched as it circled the skies before coming in to roost.

Even the crow had a tree to call home. Everyone and everything seemed to belong there but her.

She reached the fence and leaned over the top rail, gazing across it to the verdant beauty beyond, and watched the little horse play. “And you, pretty baby, you have someone who cares about you, too, don’t you?”

Diamond’s voice carried across the evening air. It startled the colt and stopped his play. He tossed his head and nickered, kicking his spindly legs out behind him as he headed toward his mother and security.

Jesse watched from the doorway as Diamond walked toward the pasture. The evening breeze lifted and tossed her long hair. He saw her twist it into a rope and then pull it over one shoulder as she folded her arms across the top rail of the fence.

He stepped off the porch and followed. It was instinctive. But the way he was feeling, it might also be a mistake.

“Have you forgiven me yet?”

Diamond jerked. Her heart thumped twice in rapid succession before settling back down into a constant rhythm. Darn him. She hadn’t even heard his approach.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said, unwilling to admit that he could hurt her in any way.

Jesse put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around.

“I hurt you. It was unintentional, but nevertheless it happened. I don’t like how it makes me feel, Diamond Houston. I need to hear you say you forgive me. I need to hear the words. If you don’t, I know I’ll lose sleep over it. And if I do, the boys will just think we’ve been carryin’ on together…if you get my drift.”

His slow smile and warm hands did things to her heart they had no business doing, but she couldn’t speak.

“You wouldn’t want me to go into the studio tomorrow with dark circles beneath my eyes and—”

Diamond ducked her head and punched him playfully on the shoulder. “Okay, okay! I get the idea. You don’t need to keep drawing me a picture of what the band thinks I’m doing at your house. It’s painfully obvious, even to a country girl like me.”

“Do you mind what they think?” he asked. “Even when we know it’s not true?”

Diamond shrugged. “I can’t help what they think. It’s what I think about myself that matters.”

Jesse slipped his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up to meet his gaze. “And what do you think about yourself, shiny girl?”

Tears came in profusion without warning.

Jesse’s arms enveloped her before she could run, then tightened around her shoulders as she buried her face in her hands.

“My God, darlin’. What did I say? I didn’t mean to make you cry.” The soft, almost undetectable sound of her sobs made him sick to his stomach.

“It wasn’t you,” she said, unsuccessfully trying to regain her composure as a fresh set of tears began to roll. “It was what you called me, ‘shiny girl.’ It’s a name Johnny used to tease me with. I didn’t think hearing it again…from someone else…would hurt. But it does.”

Jesse rested his chin on the top of her head and stared blankly across the meadow. Something he hadn’t expected was happening here, and it had nothing to do with lust. He’d seen plenty of women cry. Sometimes in fury. Sometimes over him. But the knowledge that this woman hurt and he couldn’t fix it made him angry. He didn’t know why her happiness was becoming so important to him, but he had a suspicion that if he asked himself, he’d get an answer he wasn’t ready for.

“So,” he sighed, “I came out here to apologize for one thing, and it seems now I should apologize for two.”

“Oh hell,” Diamond said softly, allowing herself a moment’s weakness. “Forget the apologies and just hold me. I’m too tired of pretending.”

Jesse did as he was asked. It was his pleasure. He did some pretending of his own as he let himself enjoy the feeling of holding her against his body. He pretended that it was only the beginning for them. And when darkness chased them into the house, he forgot he’d been pretending.

He walked her to the foot of the stairs and leaned close. “’Night, darlin’,” he said, and kissed her gently on the cheek.

Long after she’d crawled into bed, Diamond could still feel the imprint of his lips on her cheek and the pressure of their bodies as they’d touched and then melded into each other. She rolled over on her stomach, wishing for the first time in her life that she owned a nightgown. Her bare skin burned, her body ached, and the tears she’d buried began to fall once again. Only this time she wasn’t crying for Johnny. She was crying for herself.

When Jesse walked into the studio with Diamond the next morning, the members of Muddy Road were already tuning up. Tommy glared. Some of the others whistled or called out gentle, teasing welcomes.

Mack Martin watched, silently assessing the fact that the same woman had shown up with the boss two days running. He couldn’t ever remember that happening. Either she was hell on wheels in bed, or Jesse hadn’t been shuckin’ them yesterday, after all. Maybe she
could
sing.

He turned away so that they wouldn’t see his grin. Just what he liked, little girls with stars in their eyes. They were the kind who’d do anything for a chance at the bright lights. Mack adjusted the strings on his guitar and readied for the session that was about to begin. He could wait until Jesse was through with her. He was a patient man.

Hours later, his wasn’t the only patience running thin as Jesse started a new rendition of the same song they’d been working on all day.

Don’t tell me lies, just say you love me
.

Don’t try so hard to make me believe
.

It’s not too late, if you really mean it
.

But you can’t stay just to watch me grieve
.

But the smiles and lies of a lying lover

go hand in hand like kisses and wine
.

I’ve had my share of one or the other
.

But like the fool I am, can’t get you out of my mind.

Jesse ended the song with a frustrated curse and dropped his guitar onto a chair.

“Dammit, Tommy, it doesn’t work. It just doesn’t work.”

“That’s not what you said when we bought the damned thing,” Tommy said, resisting the urge to shout.

Jesse shoved his hands through his hair and then turned to face his band. “Sorry, guys,” he said, “but let’s try it once more from the top, and this time when we get to the second stanza, I want to hear more fiddle on the melody. You got that, Al?”

Al nodded and cracked his neck to alleviate the pain beneath his shirt collar. The boss wasn’t near as pissed-off as
he
felt. He and his wife, Rita, had been trying to celebrate their anniversary all week. If something didn’t break on this song arrangement soon, he envisioned an all-night session that would have Rita fuming.

Diamond leaned against the wall just out of Jesse’s line of vision and watched him flex his arms as he worked out the kinks from sitting too long in one spot. The muscles rippled beneath his shirt, as did the ones in his thighs as he bent down to retrieve his guitar. She shivered, wondering what he looked like beneath the fabric, and then closed her eyes against the thought.

“One more time from the top,” Jesse said, weariness heavy in his voice, “and then we’ll call it a day. Maybe all I need to do is sleep on it.”

“Maybe that’s what’s wrong, Jesse. Maybe you ain’t gettin’ enough sleep. Maybe what you’re sleepin’ on—or with—is keepin’ you from—”

“Shut the hell up, Mack,” Jesse said.

The sharpness in his voice matched the look in his eyes. Mack got the message loud and clear and didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit that some easy fuck was coming between Jesse and the band. He wondered what Jesse was thinking, letting a woman like her matter, especially when there were a hundred just like her waiting to be had.

Diamond gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to shove Mack’s words down his throat. And she didn’t have to look at Jesse’s manager to know that he was smiling. She’d already heard his satisfied chuckle when Mack had started in.