Every Heart Sings (Serenity Island Series) (7 page)

Josh waggled his eyebrows at the boy.

The tips of Tony’s ears turned pink as he caught Hannah watching him.

“Come on.” Jordan grabbed Josh’s hand and dragged him through the café and away from the kid.

He’d hoped he had his own fan in Jordan Drake, but he couldn’t be one-hundred percent sure. There were moments he could see the attraction simmering between them, but then there were other times when she just seemed downright pissed. Like now. There was no shimmering attraction darkening her hazel eyes now. Nope. Nothing but irritation.

Determining whether that particular version of pissed was a defense mechanism or for real would be the trick.

He planned to find out. One way or another.

Because he had no problem figuring out he was Jordan Drake’s number one fan, whether she wanted fans or not.

Jordan pulled Josh down the hallway toward the bathrooms, then into the storage closet. She swatted the light switch on the wall, yanked him in, and slammed the door behind them.

“What is your problem?” she demanded, hands on hips.

“Me?” Josh raised his hands. “I’ve got no problem, lady. You’re the one who dragged me into—” He finally noticed where they were. “A broom closet? So you tell me what’s wrong. Gotta be something big if you’re so hot.”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her reaction to Josh’s closeness. The room was big when one person ducked in to grab the mop, or an extra jar of mayonnaise. But with the six-foot sexy rocker dominating the space, she barely had room to breathe, let alone turn around. Her nipples hardened.

Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.

Jordan cleared her throat, trying to get hold of her raging hormones. Damn. She needed to get laid. Quick. Maybe a short overnight to the mainland would be in order. Hell. No. Someone would recognize her in Wilmington. Too many studio types hung out there, filming the latest Iron Man or Hugh Jackman flick in the town dubbed as the east coast Hollywood.

“So?” Josh searched her face for an answer, since she hadn’t said anything. He took a step closer and bent forward, bracing his hands on either side of her head, as he whispered in her ear, “Or did you get me alone to take advantage of me?”

The heat of his breath combined with the sexy undertones of his voice melted her into a puddle. Right there in the storage room. Shit. They’d have to mop her up.

She arched her neck, then leaned into his scent, her cheekbone brushing the stubble on his jaw. He smelled warm and fresh. Outdoorsy. Rosemary and cardamom.

Her hands splayed his chest. Hot muscle radiated beneath the cotton of his shirt. He moaned at her slight caress. She lifted her face. His lips were right there. He claimed her mouth.

Hot. Soft. Sensual.

His hunger matched her own.

She pressed into him. Her hips brushed his thighs. He cupped the back of her head and deepened the kiss, angling his mouth over hers to demand more. She fell into the sweet, erotic vortex he created with his mouth, his hands stroking her, coaxing her to give more.

She hadn’t felt this out of control since her worst days in the business. That thought immediately sobered her.

What the hell was she doing?

She didn’t do out of control. Not anymore. Especially with a celebrity—a rock star entertainer living in the fast lane.

She fisted her hands in his T-shirt and gave him a good hard shove.

“I can’t do this.” She panted, like she’d run a marathon instead of just had the stuffing kissed out of her.

To his credit, Josh backed off right away.

Hands lifted in the air, he said, “Cool. I’m cool with that.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What the hell was that for?”

“Proving a point.”

“What point?” she gasped.

“That you’re not as unaffected by me as you pretend.” His mouth twitched and his eyes sparkled. “You’re in just as much trouble as I am.”

“Fuck.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This means nothing.”

He laughed at her. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

“No, I mean it. All it shows is that it’s been way too long since I’ve shagged someone. I am human.”

“Yes, you certainly are.” The husky, suggestive tone he used stoked a fire deep inside her.

He tugged at a strand of her hair that had slipped loose of the ponytail and framed her face.

“So, what’s got you so fired up that you’d risk cornering a dangerous rock star in a closet?” The humor in his voice almost made her want to smile. Almost.

“It’s Tony. You need to leave the kid alone.”

Josh frowned. “Why? What are you talking about? Tony’s a really talented musician. If anything, I need to spend more time with him. He’s got raw talent and passion.”

She lifted her finger. “Don’t you dare.”

“Dare what?”

“You will not suck him into that lifestyle, not if I have anything to say about it.”

Josh paused, studying her. He cocked his head to one side. “That’s what this is about? About me working with Tony? What? You’re afraid he’ll make the same mistakes you made?”

“He’s sixteen. He can’t handle that lifestyle yet. It will destroy him.”

“He’s not ready today. But in another year or two, he’ll—”

“No. Stop. He’s not going to do it. I won’t let you. I won’t let him.”

“You won’t let him? How do you get a say in this?”

“He’ll listen to me. You’ll see.”

“No, he won’t. He wants this too badly. So either you help him do it the right way, or he’ll run away from you and do it on his own—maybe the right way, maybe the wrong way.”

Jordan pinned him with a warning glare, trying to funnel her worst bad-ass attitude into it so he got the message.

Josh blew a frustrated breath. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Look. I get the picture. You think the entertainment business is all bad. It’s not. What’s bad is not having an anchor, a north star when you’re launched. That’s what can lead to destruction. What almost killed you.”

He cupped her face. His thumb stroked her bottom lip.

Jordan’s mouth trembled and her eyes filled with unshed tears. She would not cry in front of this man. Not even when he could see her struggle. Could somehow see her heart and fears laid out in the open. Josh didn’t know her.

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Tony will be okay. Trust me.” And with those words he turned and opened the storage room door.

“Over my dead body,” she ground out, sounding more like a growling mama bear.

He stared at her over his shoulder, his smile sexy, and his bedroom eyes thoughtful. “Your call. Not mine. This doesn’t have to be hard. Tony is a good kid. And he deserves a break. This isn’t about you, Jordan. Surrender can feel like death, but it’s not, I promise. Sometimes relinquishing control is just what you need to help you grow, to get you beyond what’s got you stuck.” He turned and walked backwards down the hall, away from her, his eyes still hot on her. “And you, my dear, are good and truly stuck.”

“Am not.” Her reply was sullen.

“Are, too. But you don’t have to stay that way.” He winked at her and grinned. Irresistible and sexy as hell. Then he was gone.

But, damn, if she didn’t begin to wonder if he wasn’t a teensy bit right after all; if maybe she wasn’t just a little bit stuck.

Chapter 6

Chords, Frets, and Strings

When Josh got back to the table, Hannah was sitting at the booth, legs crossed, beat-boxing on the table along with Tony while he played “The A-Team” song by Ed Sheeran. Words about it being too cold outside for angels to fly. He sang the chorus and segued into the next verse.

Hannah watched him intently.

Sidewinder had arrived and accompanied Tony on the piano. The old guy sure kept up on popular music. He didn’t just play his Gospel and Motown favorites.

The kid was good. Sidewinder was better. Josh felt something inside his chest unfurl and begin to spread, like a tight flower bulb opening after a spring rain. There was something about this place, this café, these people—Tony and Sidewinder—and the music that lived inside of them that spoke to his soul, that made him feel like he’d come home.

Jordan bumped into him as she came around the corner.

“Oof. Sorry . . .” She came to a stop, mesmerized, just like Josh, by the sound of Tony singing the haunting song.

The kid’s voice was raspy and sweet. Full of wisdom and heart, innocence and precision. All wrapped up together—he had the full package.

Josh turned to Jordan. “See. He’s gonna do it with or without you. You can either help guide him or push him away to make him find his own way. You decide.”

He lifted her chin with a finger so she looked him in the face. Her tawny hazel-colored eyes glittered at him, stormy with anger, not yet ready to give up the battle for what she believed right.

“We’ll see,” she said in a clipped tone.

“We will. Just don’t take too long deciding, or the decision might be taken away from you.”

She frowned at him and jerked her chin out of his grasp.

Jordan poked him in the chest. “Keep away from him.”

“Sorry, not going to happen, beautiful. Although, I will be kind of busy. I won’t hurt him, I promise.”

“You’d better not. Or I swear, I will hunt you down.”

“And do what to me?” He raised his brows. His cock throbbed. God, he knew exactly what he wanted the magnificent Jordan Drake to do to him. Now he just needed to convince her it was a good idea. He’d start by taking her against the wall. Hard and fast.

“Keep dreamin’, cowboy.” She must have read his thoughts.

Tony ramped up the chorus, pouring emotion into the words. He finished on a soft, quiet note.

And Josh knew exactly what the kid tapped into. His dreams. He’d poured it all into that song that was about so much more and so much less than hopes and dreams and life disappointments. And he knew in that moment that he’d do just about anything to help this kid succeed, because he’d been Tony once.

So desperate. So down. So lost. Josh couldn’t leave him to struggle on his own with this demon. No. It didn’t matter what the sexy former-child actress said, he planned to do everything in his power to help this kid, no matter if it destroyed any hope he had of getting into Jordan Drake’s bed by the end of the summer or not.

Some things were more important.

Thank God there weren’t many.

The spell of Tony’s song broke when the chords died away. Jordan stormed into the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with her?” Tony asked, his brows knit, confusion clear on his face.

Hannah stared after Jordan, too. But she didn’t seem as confused about the whole situation as Tony. “She’s afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Tony sat the guitar on floor, propping it against the booth.

“What success will do to you.”

Tony’s shoulders sagged and he played with the handle of his mug, pushing it around and around. “What success?”

Hannah touched his arm. “The success she knows is around the corner. With talent like yours, it’s only a matter of time.” Her voice was filled with hero worship for a second, before she seemed to remember where she was and who she was, and brushed her hair to cover her right eye.

“Really? You think I’m talented?” The pleading hope in the kid’s tone killed Josh. He didn’t want to interrupt the scene between the two teens so he stayed where he stood, shoulder against the wall. Tony needed time to make his move if he wanted to start a friendship with the girl.

Hannah smiled, and Josh could tell her smile mesmerized Tony because his mouth went a little slack and his eyes glazed over.

“Yeah. I do think so. You’re pretty awesome,” she said.

“Ah—Thanks—You are, too. Maybe we can grab lunch sometime?”

“I usually work during the lunch-hour.”

“Oh.” Tony looked a little defeated again.

“But maybe dinner or dessert would work better?”

The kid perked right back up. “Wow. Really? Great. Yes. Definitely. How about tomorrow?”

Hannah tilted her head and smiled at him again. “Yes. Tomorrow is good.” She slapped her hands on the table and pushed herself up. “I gotta get back next door. Help my mom. Have a good one.”

Tony waved and stammered a good-bye.

“Bye, Sidewinder.” Hannah saw Josh hovering against the wall near the counter. “Hi. You must be the new owner.”

Josh raised a hand. “Yep. That’s me. I’m Josh.”

She studied him. “Yeah, you are. But I know you better as Nicodemus. Rock on, dude.”

Josh laughed. “Nice meeting you, Hannah. Send your mom my warm regards. Hope she’s feeling okay today after all those margaritas last night.”

“She’ll survive. See ya.” She pushed through the front door. “Catch ya later, Tony.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled at the boy one last time before she disappeared.

Josh pulled a chair from another table, turned it around, and sat at the end of the booth, forearms propped on the chair back. He studied Tony.

“I think she likes you.”

“You think so?” Tony looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. Josh couldn’t remember ever being that wide-eyed. “I can’t ever tell. I think if a girl likes me, she’s just going to have come out and say it. I don’t understand them.”

The kid picked up the guitar again.

“By them, you mean women?” Josh asked.

Tony nodded and strummed a few chords in accompaniment to Sidewinder.

Josh watched Jordan wipe down the counter for the tenth time as she listened to their conversation, sneaking glimpses at them from under cover of her bangs.

He understood Tony’s confusion.

“Yeah, they can be a mystery. Having sisters and a mom helped me figure things out along the way. I won’t say I have a total clue, but, at times, I think I get an inkling about what goes on in the feminine brain.”

Josh drummed on the tabletop, along to Sidewinder’s rendition of Phil Phillips’ “Home.” Phillips had won American Idol a few years back. Josh had been approached by Idol producers last year. The popular reality TV show for musicians and singers had asked him to be a judge. He’d declined. There was no way in hell he could have fit it into his tour schedule, and, if he were absolutely honest with himself, he had no desire to judge a glorified talent show for weeks on end.

Even if it could boost his career to the next level.

He’d rather truly mentor someone. Guide them. Help them. More like The Voice coaches did their contestants.

But there was no time for that in his career. Until now.

Commercial success fed on commercial success. The hungry beast demanded more and more of an artist to keep his or her name on top, in front of fans. A wave of exhaustion swamped him at just the thought of everything related to the business. He’d wanted a break from it all. However, mentoring someone did appeal to him. Always had, because it’s how he’d succeeded in the industry. And, if Josh knew anything, he knew how important it was to give back. He looked at Tony. Maybe he could help the kid by mentoring him.

“So I’ve heard you play cover songs from other songwriters. Have you written anything of your own?” Josh asked, aware Jordan still listened to them.

Tony shook his head and didn’t meet Josh’s eyes. “Nah. I wouldn’t know where to begin. It seems really hard.”

“It is. But anything worth doing is hard.”

Jordan cleared her throat. He wasn’t sure who the message was intended for, but Tony grabbed the guitar case and started to pack up.

“I guess so.” He didn’t sound convinced. He wiped down the guitar, then cradled it gently in the fur-lined case. “I’m just not sure I could write songs. I’m not very good at expressing my emotions.”

Josh laughed. “Most men aren’t, dude. And that’s okay. Yet songwriting can be very cathartic. Help you work things out. No one has to hear what you’ve written, if you don’t want them to ever hear it.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“Would you like to learn how to write a good song?”

Excitement flashed in the kid’s eyes. “Hell yeah.”

“Tony Alexander. Watch your language. You know what your mom says,” Jordan chided from nearby.

Tony glared at his aunt. “Yeah, she says the same thing to me in the exact same tone. But you swear all the time.”

“Well—” Jordan paused. “I’m an adult and you’re not. It’s not acceptable for you to use those kinds of words.”

“Whatever. I don’t get that. It’s a double standard.”

“Life’s not fair, little man.” She stood, squaring her shoulders, which thrust her generous breasts forward.

Josh stood, admiring her long legs and delicious curves. He wondered what her skin would feel like against his lips. Hot and sweet? Or cool and spicy. “Speaking of unfair. It’s time you get to work. This cafe isn’t going to run itself.”

“All right, all right. Cool your jets.”

Tony turned back to the case and folded the cloth to tuck it beside the guitar.

“Think about it. We can talk later. You know where to find me.” Josh hooked a thumb over his shoulder indicating the apartment upstairs. He stood and pushed his chair back under the next table.

“Oh, I think this is yours. You left it in the case.” Tony offered Josh a thick sealed envelope.

Josh froze.
The letter
. It had lived so long in his guitar case, he’d forgotten all about it, tucked away in the compartment under the neck of the guitar.

He sucked in a sharp breath that sounded harsh in the sudden silence as Sidewinder paused in his repertoire of songs.

Josh’s vision tunneled.

His hand shook as he reached for the letter.

“Thanks.” The paper of the envelope felt cool against his fingertips. “Where did you find it? I’d forgotten about the letter. I thought it was lost a long time ago.”

Which wasn’t a lie. He’d actively forgotten that letter for so many years that saying he’d forgotten it almost felt one-hundred-percent true.

Almost.

When his grandfather had sent him the letter almost fifteen years ago, shortly after he’d left for L.A., he’d opened it, excited that the man who’d been so influential in his life and his music development after his dad died was finally praising him for the success of his first album that had gone platinum.

The first sentence had said it all—everything that epitomized the complicated relationship he’d had with the old man who formed him, the man he’d worshiped, the man who taught him to play his first six-string. Everything he knew about music, storytelling, and songwriting, he’d learned from Saul Cohen.

But, no. The words were not kind or praising—they were condemning. “What the hell were you thinking writing this trash? You are no grandson of mine.”

He’d quietly folded the letter and never read another word. He’d resealed the envelope with tape. And he hadn’t spoken to the old man since.

Music had been his salvation. His go-to, when life was hard. His place of solace during his high school years. He’d worked hard. First mastering the piano, then a friend had pulled him into garage band. That’s when he figured out he could sing. Shortly after that, he’d taught himself how to play guitar. And that had opened up whole new avenues for him.

So when he basically ran away from home at eighteen to find his fortune, Pops had been angry with him.

Josh moved on years ago. Left Pops behind. Walked away from the harsh disapproval and disappointment.

Or so he’d thought.

Until the letter that had disappeared all those years ago surfaced again. Now, the hole in his chest felt hollow and just as gaping as it had the day he’d experienced the loss of his dad, and then the loss of his grandfather. Hell. He couldn’t do this. Not now. Not when he needed to clear his head and spend the next month writing song lyrics that would fulfill his contract and get Ben and Capital Records off his back. Fuck, no. He didn’t have time for this.

“Thanks, kid.” Josh shoved the letter in his back pocket and pushed his hands through his hair. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Sure.” Tony stared at him. “You okay? You seem a little, I don’t know . . . Shaky.”

Josh forced a smile and patted his stomach. “Yeah, just need some food. Blood sugars are dropping. I’ll see you around. Remember my offer, okay? The great artists are the ones who create original music.”

“You got that right.” Tony bumped fists with Josh. “I’ll think about it.”

Josh couldn’t get away fast enough.

Too bad running from his past and all those regrets wouldn’t be as easy.

“What was that all about?” Jordan asked Tony as he stowed his guitar case under the counter. She’d watched Josh blanch white, and she hadn’t missed the tremble in his hand as he’d taken the letter from Tony.

Josh Nicodemus had just seen a ghost.

If anyone was familiar with the signs of being scared shitless, it was Jordan. As a child star, she’d been there too many times to count—so often in fact, that she’d come to wonder what was wrong with her when she no longer felt the pulse-pounding sensation after arriving here in Serenity. It had taken her years to understand that that kind of panic, fear, and regret wasn’t normal. Wasn’t what the normal person should experience on a daily basis.

“No clue,” Tony said, watching Josh go. “Some old letter I found in the lining of the guitar case.”