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  Not that Jason would admit that Jeanie marrying Dan bothered him. Dan was a hell of a guy but Tyler had always expected a different turnout. Oh well. Sometimes things don’t happen the way you want.

  Either way, he’d make it up to Jeanie and Dan for missing and drag Jason out for a drink tonight after this gig was over and done with. Several people milled about in various cliquish circles. Hushed whispers and giggles made him look around, leery of what he’d gotten himself into. As he met their amused gazes the women would blush or look away.

  What the hell?

  Uneasiness kept him company as he made his way to the area he’d been told to meet the coordinator, Matthew Martinson. A middle-aged man wearing a tuxedo paced back and forth in the corridor when Tyler turned the corner. The man glanced at his watch and crossed his arms.

  “Good. You’re here.” Condescension filled his voice as he regarded Tyler. “You aren’t exactly what I expected but I suppose you’ll have to do. Remove your shirt and come with me.”

  “My shirt, sir?”

  Martinson sighed heavily and whirled in a fit of frustration. “A few of our guests chose to bring their spouses to this dinner and despite my best efforts, everyone else seems to feel we need to provide some eye candy for the wives.”

  That didn’t sound good.

  Tyler remained silent and followed the guy into the serving area behind what he assumed was the banquet hall for the convention center. Waiters and waitresses dressed in black-and-white uniforms ran in and out of the room with the efficiency of an ant colony.

  He followed Martinson over to a large round table with a missing center. The table had been fitted with wheels at the base. An assortment of chocolates, cakes and other sweets centered on blue doilies on small white plates lined the circular surface.

  “This will be your station.” Martinson motioned toward the dessert area. “Your task is simple. Push the cart around, try to engage the women with charm rather than distasteful leering. This is a black-tie dinner—not a…”

  The judgmental prick let the rest of the sentence dangle between them unspoken. Although he’d dealt with a lot of assholes and snooty people over the years, Tyler hadn’t ever felt quite so…dirty. He chewed on the “fuck you” lodged in his mouth for a moment. Money talked.

  He could tolerate just about anything if the result was worth it. In this case, it was. Barely. He nodded and crawled under the table to take his station.

  “Oh, and whatever tips you receive will be given to me. I’ll ensure they go into the charity donation we’re collecting.” He sneered. “It’ll be your small contribution to our cause.”

  Tyler ignored the obvious jibe and got to work. The sooner this was over, the better. Uncomfortable situations were a hell of a lot easier to digest when a buddy had your back. Solo gigs like this sucked donkey balls in the worst way.

  The room hummed with conversation. His skin crawled with leering glances and overt stares. All the nights he’d taken the stage or danced on a side stage he’d never felt like this—objectified. Each snicker or suppressed chuckle from a so-called lady fortified his resolve to make it through the night.

  Giggles and smiles usually meant interest—attraction he could use to his advantage. They made him the hunter. Tonight he didn’t even seem to be the prey. A full trek of the room took longer than expected. He’d had to reload desserts a few times, but that hadn’t offered much of a respite. Well-meaning waiters and waitresses in the back had quickly restocked him.

  A few carnal glimpses had brightened the situation, but not for long. Nothing would come of them at this event. The lights dimmed and he made his way to the back corner. Martinson nodded in approval.

  “You’ve done well so far. You only have a couple more hours left.” He motioned toward the stage. “Now this is what I call eye candy.”

  Tyler wanted to push the cart to a different corner. Hell, he’d rather keep working the floor of judgmental asses and their haughty wives rather than deal with the man who’d hired him. But the area was hard to maneuver in the dim lighting and it was clear everyone was done eating for now.

  A show was starting.

  Shock riddled him motionless when the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders took the stage. Great. The sexiest women around were here to entertain en masse and he’d been sent in alone to deal with the ladies. What hope he had of the night turning around disappeared with each scream and catcall. The women in attendance weren’t pleased as the cheerleaders made their way into the crowd and began working the tables with gusto.

  By the time the show was over Tyler had resigned himself to the situation fully and he could find the humor in the fact he was the only guy working alongside an entire cheerleading squad.

  Toward the end of the evening one of the perky blondes he’d watched with avid interest flounced over with a smile that made him perk up. She tapped her fingers on her chin as she perused the dessert choices.

  “See something you like?”

  “Oh yes.” She smirked as she grazed her fingers along a brownie. “I can’t seem to make up my mind.”

  She looked around the room for a minute and then captured his gaze with soft blue eyes. “Everyone here’s pretty obnoxious. I hate events like this. I can’t believe you have to do it alone. I’d die.”

  “It got much better when you all came in.”

  “I’m thinking it could be a lot better later.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “I’d better get back to work before I get in trouble with the troll over there.” She pointed at Martinson. She pulled out a pen from her cleavage and grabbed Tyler’s left hand. “Here’s my number. Call me.”

  Tyler nodded as she smiled and headed back to the crowd.

  She paused a few feet away and turned. “Don’t make me wait too long.”

  He wouldn’t.

  * * * * *

  Jason listened to his friend’s recounting of the day from hell. He would’ve gladly taken his place. A dose of regret rushed through him as he looked over at Jeanie, who’d returned to her knitting as though nothing else mattered.

  “God, she was beautiful that day.”

  “The cheerleader?” Tyler leaned forward. “You saw her?”

  “Jeans was. Miserable prick.”

  “Sorry, Maverick. Figured a little humor would make it easier.”

  It was too late for that.

  * * * * *

  “Fuck.” Dan slammed his fist on the dashboard and collapsed in the seat. “I’m so screwed.”

  “No worries. We’re almost there, man.” Jason slid into the left lane and gunned it. With any luck they’d wheel into the parking lot with a couple minutes to spare. He glanced over at his nervous, hungover friend. “I guess a bachelor party the night before wasn’t a good idea.”

  “Not when the ‘night’ doesn’t end until five.”

  “It was a hell of a night though.”

  “Yeah.” Dan looked over. “We’re not into that sentimental bullshit but I just gotta say thanks for everything.”

  “Anytime.”

  Uncomfortable silence hung between them for a moment. Perhaps it was only uncomfortable for Jason though. His mind worked through what to expect for the day—prepared him for the emotional overload of watching Jeanie marry Dan.

  He’d always had her around—expected her to be a part of his life no matter what. And now. Now she’d turned her notice in and intended to leave the club. Dan was manning up and opening a place of his own—a bar.

  Any idiot could see the white picket fence and a menagerie of kids in their future. The only question Jason had was whether he’d see her after today. More importantly, could he handle the rotgut jealousy long enough to maintain a friendship with her and the man he’d always considered a brother?

  “Promise you’ll look out for her if anything ever happens to me.”

  Dan’s voice was barely audible over the country music he’d cranked in the vehicle. Jason nodded quickly but remained silent. He wasn’t sur
e what to say. He was in new terrain he wasn’t ready for.

  “Man, I don’t want to fuck this up with her.”

  “You won’t. The bar’s gonna do great. You’re gonna be a hell of a dad.”

  Dan looked over, shock on his face. “How did you know she’s pregnant?”

  Ah, crap. Something foreign lodged in his chest. “Holy shit. I didn’t! Congrats, man.”

  Dan beamed. “Thanks. I’m hoping it’s a girl who looks like her.”

  “You sure as shit wouldn’t want her looking like you.”

  “Fuck you, man.”

  Jason laughed along with Dan. No matter how much Jason might want it otherwise, this future wasn’t his. Not with Jeans. There were plenty of other women out there.

  “I’ll always have your back, man.”

  The statement was easy. Jason proved it in spades over the next couple of hours. A stain on Dan’s tuxedo shirt was easily diverted with a quick switcheroo. Ties got tied, vows practiced. Rings double-checked.

  All thoughts of jealousy disappeared the moment Jason saw Jeans walking down the aisle. Her radiant smile washed away all regret and awakened him to the fact that all he gave a damn about was her happiness—and that was clearly with the man beside him with the shit-eating grin on his face.

  But, like always, his emotions were an eternal pendulum, a fucked-up seesaw of happiness and bitter jealousy. One minute he couldn’t be happier for them. The next he wanted to pound on his chest and drag her out caveman style and claim her for himself.

  The reception was an exercise in patience until the formal dinner portion was finished. The dancing and revelry helped ease the sense of loss in Jason. Although they were both his friends, he knew this wedding was a turning point in their lives. Their paths had now gone in different directions and he wasn’t sure he was ready for what awaited him.

  “Can I have this dance?”

  The soft voice melted his thoughts and he nodded with a grin. He escorted Jeanie onto the dance floor and swept her into his arms as the music drifted around them.

  Her hand ran across his shoulder and she tugged at the loose neck. “Thanks for switching with him.”

  “I figured he’d confess.”

  She laughed against his neck. “He didn’t. I just noticed. You know I always see what y’all don’t want me to.”

  “That’s very true.” He cleared his throat and leaned closer. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

  She tensed in his arms before looking up. Fear mixed with happiness glinted in her gaze. “It wasn’t planned. I hope I’m ready.”

  He hugged her tighter and ran his hand down her back. “You’re going to be an excellent mom and God help whoever tries to hurt you because he’ll kick their ass.”

  She laughed. “He’s hoping for a girl but I’m praying for a boy. I can’t imagine him with a daughter. He’s so protective.”

  “Yeah he is.” Jason shared in her laughter. “Come to think of it, that daughter would have about ten protective uncles.”

  “Yeah, I’d thought about that.”

  Jason guided them along the dance floor and allowed the stranglehold on his thoughts to loosen. “I’m going to miss you.”

  She looked up at him. “You going somewhere?”

  “No, but you are. Things won’t be the same without you two at the club. You’ll have a place of your own to get off the ground and a little rugrat to deal with soon.”

  “Yes, which is why I fully expect you to be right there rolling up your sleeves to help.” She poked him in the shoulder. “We’ve been through too much for you to get off that easy, Jason Ashford. You are stuck with both of us and any and all rugrats.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Hearing the positive affirmation that their friendship would endure whatever the future held helped. Whether the sentiment was true or not remained to be seen. All Jason knew was that it was time to move on. He’d been saddled by what-ifs long enough and drowning in a morose pool of shit he’d had no business thinking about.

  It was time to live life to its fullest and forget about the woman now sliding out of his embrace and into the waiting arms of her grinning husband.

  Chapter Seven

  “I remember those times. You were crazy wild,” Tyler stated. “Those were epic times.”

  “Yeah.” Jason couldn’t help but laugh. “I seem to recall one event that you probably don’t consider epic.”

  Silence followed the statement but he could tell his friend was working through the past to get back to that night.

  “Fuck you, Maverick. That was one of those nights we swore to never talk about.”

  Jason laughed. “Oh come on, dude. It’s hilarious now that it’s over with.”

  “Easy for you to say. You got laid and I got splayed.”

  * * * * *

  There wasn’t anything more therapeutic than new venues, wild parties and hot women. Tyler collapsed beside Lamar on Jason’s sofa.

  “How long should we let them gorge before we cut them off?”

  Tyler shrugged. Weed brownies weren’t his thing. “Probably should’ve cut them off after the first one. If Jason cooked them he probably fucked it up.”

  “Yeah.” Lamar fell silent for a moment and shifted on the couch. “So what’s up with him lately?”

  Tyler wasn’t sure what the hell to say. It didn’t take a fucking therapist to figure out Dan’s wedding—or rather Jean’s featured role in it—did a number on Jason. It wasn’t any of his business though.

  Jason came over holding out the bag of jacked-up brownies. “Hey, Goose. You want some?”

  The stage name he used when performing with Jason—aka Maverick—had stuck and there wasn’t any losing it. He sighed. “Nah, man. I’m cool.”

  Lamar motioned toward the other side of the room where Anthony was sifting through another bag. “I’ll get him moving so we can get to the airport.”

  Jason watched their friend head off with an intense scrutiny only hydro could cause. The good quality marijuana meant a better high. “What’s his problem?”

  “Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  He took a deep breath in response and looked away. “Leave it alone.”

  “Fair enough. You know where to find me.”

  “You’re not my type.” Jason laughed. “But thanks, man.”

  Tyler nodded.

  “I got the call last night. They had a girl.”

  “So you decided to numb yourself with a batch of hydro brownies.”

  “Yeah, figured I could give it a shot.”

  “Too bad he screwed it up.” Anthony slapped him on the back. “Dude, if the recipe wanted an ounce of regular weed, you shouldn’t have added an ounce of hydro.”

  “Whatever.”

  Tyler knew a lost cause when he saw it. There was no reasoning with him now. All he could do was wait it out. Sooner or later he’d crash and they’d deal with the fallout.

  “We might need to hurry this up a bit,” Lamar added.

  Anticipation fed the restless energy on the way to the airport. The road tour was guaranteed to be crazy given the group of guys they’d gathered. The ticket line was long and they were loaded down with the gear they’d need for the show.

  “Hey, man. Hook me up with another brownie,” Anthony demanded.

  “He doesn’t have them with him, man. Later.” Lamar crossed his arms and leaned over to whisper to Tyler. “This will be an interesting flight.”

  “Shit. I just saw that it will cost a hundred bucks to check the wheelchair,” Jason said.

  “Fuck that!” Tyler stated.

  Anthony laughed and motioned toward the wheelchair. “Tyler, get in the wheelchair, put on my glasses and pretend you’re blind.”

  “No way,” Jason responded.

  “I’ll pay to see you do this,” Lamar offered. “Remember, you gotta stay committed or you’ll go to jail or something.”

  This was the sort of shit Tyler enjoyed the most. I
mpromptu challenges alleviated the boredom on the road, between performances or whenever. He positioned himself in the wheelchair and put on Anthony’s sunglasses.

  “Dude, use these. I’ve already got one bag to check.” Lamar handed him bongo drums.

  The ruse worked and they wheeled through security and to the departure gate. Tyler banged on the drums and noted the attention he and Anthony were drawing. The six-foot-four Venezuelan pushing him had a way of commanding attention.

  Tyler banged on the drums harder when they drew near a couple of hotties who waved at them. Anthony waved back but pushed the wheelchair at the same time, forcing it into the opposite direction as he headed over to the women.

  Shit. This was gonna hurt.

  The wheelchair slammed into the wall. He could almost feel the shock of the people in the terminal as a collective gasp echoed through the area near them. Tyler reached out and felt along the wall as though he couldn’t see what he’d gotten shoved into.

  The ladies ran over to him and soft hands skimmed his arms and shoulders.

  “Are you okay?” One of the girls leaned down in front of him, offering a nice visual of her gorgeous tits pushing up from a lacy white bra.

  “I’m better now.” Tyler smiled. “You okay, Anthony?”

  “Sorry, bro.”

  “You did that on purpose. I saw.” The woman glared at Anthony as she touched Tyler’s face. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Don’t worry, girls. He is my friend and I hate him.” He grinned.

  Tyler laughed. “This is my best friend, Anthony. He’s always joking around.”

  “Well, I want you to call me so I can check on you.” She scrawled her name and number in a slip of paper and slipped it into Tyler’s hand. “Get your friend to help you call me.”

  He fought the impulse to read the paper and learn her name. Blood surged to his cock. “I definitely will, sweetheart. Where you headed?”

  “We’re visiting a friend of ours. Girls’ weekend.”

  “You have fun.” Tyler waited for a few moments as Anthony made nice with the girl’s friend. They departed and he couldn’t help but think this road trip was exactly what they all needed.

  * * * * *