The Bribe (Calamity Montana)

“MORNING.” Duke slid his arms around me and dropped a kiss to the bare skin on my shoulder.

“Morning.” I leaned back into him, absorbing the heat from his chest as the coffeepot brewed, filling the kitchen with its drip and buzz. Duke’s scent filled my nose and I held it in, savoring that scent of spice and soap.

He’d been in the shower when I’d woken up so I’d snuck in to brush my teeth, then come downstairs to start the coffee. I was still wearing a pair of silk pajama shorts and matching camisole, the color a lavender shade so light it was nearly electric white.

Duke kissed me again, this time his lips lingering longer, and a smile stretched across my face as I closed my eyes. “Wish I didn’t have to work today.”

“What would we do if you had the day off?”

“Fuck in every room of the house.”

My breath hitched and an ache twisted in my lower belly. “Call in sick.”

“I can’t.” One hand traveled lower and his fingers dipped beneath the elastic of my shorts. “But we can cross off the kitchen.”

I nodded, spinning around so quickly it forced his hand out of my shorts, then I stood on my toes, my lips seeking his.

Never would I get enough of this man.

He crushed his lips to mine as he gripped me by the hips, picking me up so the tips of my toes skimmed the wood floor. Duke set me on the island while his tongue dove into my mouth, plundering and claiming.

My hands roamed everywhere. Over his broad shoulders covered by the stiff, starched cotton of his shirt. Down his muscled arms, which strained to be rid of his sleeves. My palms traveled up his rock-hard chest to his face, where I cupped his cheeks and angled my head so his kisses could go even deeper.

Duke licked and sucked until my core was drenched and I was perched on the edge of the butcher block. My legs were spread and my center throbbed for him as he pulled away and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“Off.” He jerked his chin at my cami.

I whipped it off, my breasts bouncing free.

His eyes zeroed in on my pebbled nipples. His tongue darted out and ran across his lower lip as he worked the buttons even faster.

“Hurry.” I yanked at the hem of his shirt, needing to feel his skin on mine.

Over the past week, something had switched with us. We were just as hot for one another as we had been from the start, but ever since the football game, there’d been this want. This insatiable hunger. Neither of us could get enough and we were frantic to be connected all the time.

Maybe because we both feared there was a change coming now that Blake was investigating in Nashville. Or maybe we were using sex as a way to tell one another how we felt when we hadn’t yet shared the words.

I was in love with Duke.

And I wanted to take a chord out of my parents’ symphony and tell him that at just the right, epically cheesy moment. Like maybe I’d write it in a song. Maybe I’d wait until we had a date night. Maybe I’d bake a cake and write the words in frosting.

I wasn’t sure exactly how to say it yet, so for the time being, I was showing his body my affection.

Duke seemed to be doing the same. The minute he got to the farmhouse after work, we were clawing at each other. The two nights that I’d spent at his house this week, we’d been ravenous.

He’d said he wanted to fuck me in every room of the farmhouse, except he already had. This was the beginning of lap number two.

And I was not complaining.

I shoved at the sleeves of his shirt, helping to pull them off those roped and corded arms. The minute it was off and on the floor by his bare feet, his hands were on my breasts, kneading and tugging at my nipples. The pinch was a mixture of pleasure and pain that turned the heat in my veins to a raging fire.

“I need you.” I reached for his jeans, palming his erection through the denim.

He rolled his hips, pressing into my touch. “Shorts.”

I nodded and let him go, planting my hands behind me so he could pull the shorts from my legs.

They sailed to the floor to join his shirt as he worked his jeans open, revealing his long, thick shaft.

I panted as he pulled my ass to the edge of the counter, using a fist to drag the tip of his cock through my soaked folds. Then with one marvelous thrust, he was inside, stealing my breath.

“Duke.” I closed my eyes and gripped his shoulders, digging my fingertips into the taut skin.

“You feel so good, baby.”

“So good.” I hummed and widened my legs, letting him ease out to slam inside again.

He knew exactly how I wanted it. Every time, he took his cues from my gasps and my moans. I’d spent weeks learning his sounds and the expressions on his face so I could give back as good as he gave.

Duke’s hands came to my thighs, his fingers digging into the soft curves as he pumped in and out, the rhythm slow at first, until I’d adjusted to his size. Then he worked in fluid strokes, each one building me higher and higher until I was trembling.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

I nodded but kept my eyes closed as I brought one hand to my clit. I rubbed and circled the hard nub, matching the speed of his strokes until I felt an orgasm seconds away.

“Open your eyes.”

I obeyed, finding his blue gaze waiting. It was dark and full of lust. The deep blue pools were mine and mine alone.

Duke’s focus dropped, watching as he disappeared inside my body beneath my fingers. “Baby, that is hot.”

I hummed my agreement, biting my lower lip as heat licked my skin.

“Faster.”

My fingers shook and I followed his gaze, watching us together. It was erotic and dirty and beautiful. The sight pushed me over the edge and on a cry, I shattered. The orgasm took me over in crushing waves, pulse after pulse, as I clenched around Duke. White spots broke over my vision as the explosion continued its relentless assault. My legs shook as they dangled from the counter, my torso jerking with each clench.

My body was completely out of control, putty in Duke’s hands.

“Lucy.” He groaned, then erupted, fucking me even harder until we were both spent and limp.

The aftershocks of my orgasm were still coming as I fell forward, giving him my weight.

He dropped his head into the crook of my neck and breathed as we found our equilibriums.

“Don’t go to work,” I whispered. We could do this all day. Because no matter how many times I had him, it wasn’t enough.

“I have to.”

I wrapped my arms around him. “I know.”

“Tonight.” He pulled away and pushed a stray lock of hair away from my cheek. Then he studied my face, like there were words he wanted to say too.

But it wasn’t time for him either.

“Do you want another shower?”

He shook his head, his hand cupping my cheek. “I want to smell you on me all day.”

I leaned in and gave him a slow, sweet kiss, then he slipped free and helped me off the counter.

A drop of his cum leaked down my leg.

Duke bent to pick up his jeans and saw it. When he stood, there was a sexy, cocky grin on his face.

“Like that, do you?” I smirked.

“More than like.” There was a seriousness in his expression that made my heart skip.

More than like. He wasn’t talking about that drop.

Duke got dressed while I filled a travel mug of coffee for him, not bothering with my own clothes.

I moved around the kitchen naked and followed him to the front door.

There was a benefit to not having neighbors. I could wave goodbye to Duke from the front porch completely naked.

“Lock up.”

“You know I will.” I gave him a mock salute and the motion made my breasts jiggle.

“You’re making it hard for me to leave.” He wrapped his free arm around me, pulling me into his body for another kiss. There was a new hardness in his jeans, something I hoped might convince him to come back to me early. Or for lunch. But he let me go and sighed. “My house tonight?”

“Sure.” I leaned against the doorframe as he jogged down the porch steps to his truck. Then I waved as he got inside. He shook his head and laughed as I stayed right where I was.

When his truck was headed down the gravel road, I went inside and upstairs, my body languid and slow. There was no hurry. I had nothing to do today but wait until Duke was done working. So I took a leisurely shower, dressed in some jeans, then did a load of laundry and washed my sheets.

When my phone rang, I answered before it had a chance to ring twice. “Hello.”

“You seem awfully eager this morning,” Everly teased.

“No, I’m just happy to talk to you.” I plopped down on the living room couch, tucking my feet into the seat.

After weeks of no contact with Everly, lifting the ban on our phone calls had been like the sun shining on a new day.

The day I’d called her, both of us on disposable phones, she’d answered with, “Four-oh-six area code. This better be my best friend.”

I’d laughed. She’d laughed. Then we’d both cried and agreed that no one, not even a deranged stalker, was going to keep us apart again.

We’d talked every day since. She hadn’t received an email or any word from the stalker. Since I’d refused to check my email account again, maybe there was another picture or maybe there wasn’t. If Blake wanted to dig into my accounts, I’d give him access as long as it meant I could stay far, far away.

Everly had contacted Detective Markum as we’d asked. He hadn’t been too happy when she’d refused to tell him my whereabouts, but he’d stopped pressing and done his best to help. Until Blake had more time in Nashville, we’d wait to contact Detective Markum from Montana.

My hideout was safe, for the time being. And I hoped it would stay that way for just a little while longer.

“What are you doing today?” Everly asked.

“Nothing. I’m bored. Duke’s working. What about you?”

“Nothing.” She sighed. “I’m bored too.”

Days like this we’d normally spend together. We’d find a show to binge watch. We’d bake cookies and order pizza. We’d laze in our pajamas, making the most of our boredom. And almost always, I’d make her listen to the first draft of a song.

“I wrote a song,” I told her. “Would you listen to it for me?”

“Hell yes!” she squealed and clapped. “It’s like old times.”

“Okay.” I got off the couch and picked up the guitar from the corner beside the fireplace. Then I put the phone on speaker and sang the song Duke had heard me singing outside.

She laughed at the comical lyrics, hummed along with the refrain, and when I was done, applauded. “That is priceless. I can hear it on the radio already.”

My heart sank.

This one wouldn’t be on the radio.

With my identity up in the air, who knew what would happen with my career? Maybe I’d killed it for good by leaving Nashville.

Bottom line—music was important to me. I couldn’t stifle that piece of my soul, of Jade or of Lucy, because it was as much a piece of either woman as her beating heart.

Maybe I could beg Travis to let me teach him guitar. So far, he’d been an apt Spanish student, though we’d only had one tutoring session. Duke had bribed him with cash to show up for the first lesson. I was bribing him with cookies to return for a second.

“Um, you got something today,” Everly said. “A courier delivered a package to the building from the label.”

“What?” I sat up straighter.

“The label sent over legal papers.”

“Ugh.” I groaned. I’d known it was coming. I was only nine years into my fourteen-year contract and I’d been working on a new album.

“Should I send the papers to you?”

“I can’t avoid them forever, can I?”

“Probably not. Unless you really do want to become Jade Morgan.”

The more I’d contemplated my options over the past week, the more torn I’d become. It would be easier to stay Jade. Scott could go to hell and I didn’t care what my disappearance meant for his career. But my parents hadn’t raised me to shirk responsibility. I owed the label the penalty fee for breaking my contract. After all, I’d signed my name after agreeing to the stipulations.

And I had friends working there. The band members who’d traveled with me for years. A few backup singers I’d gotten to know, though since the label chose my backups, most only stuck with me for months or at most, a year. Then there was the studio staff. The sound engineers who’d made creating each album a blast.

At least some of my penalty fee would go toward their salaries—that’s what I was telling myself.

“Yeah. Send them to me,” I said.

The dust had settled on this adventure and I found myself staring at the horizon, wanting so much to keep walking forward. But first, I’d have to turn back and clean up my mess.

“Okay. Anything I can do to help?” Everly asked. “Want me to slash the tires on Scott’s Maserati?”

I giggled. “Don’t tempt me.”

We talked about her plans for the day—to take a walk in the park and do some shopping—then we ended the call with the promise to talk tomorrow.

I put my guitar away and wandered around the house, wishing our call had lasted longer. Should I clean? Garden? Nap?

Nothing appealed.

The restless energy in my fingertips was overpowering and what I wanted was to move. So I swiped my keys from the kitchen counter, climbed in my car and headed for town. The weather was still warm at the end of September so I’d stuck to my flip-flops, a pair of relaxed jeans and a long-sleeved tee. It was white, which meant before I ate anything, I’d have to change or find a bib. With Duke’s ball cap on to shade my face, I decided to continue my exploration of First Street since it had been cut short the day I’d gone into the gallery.

As before, the sidewalks were mostly empty. I lingered with every step, not rushing as I passed stores and restaurants. I’d been in Montana for, what, nearly two months? If I didn’t find something to occupy my time, I’d go crazy this winter.

Television was fine but I felt guilty watching all day. For as much as I’d hoped to love reading like my mother, none of the books I’d picked up had clicked. Next, I was going to try a thriller or mystery. But even if I became a voracious reader, I craved a challenge.

Maybe a job? The idea sparked when I passed the café and the red and white Help Wanted sign caught my eye. I slowed my pace. I was here and might as well inquire about the position. I stretched a hand for the door only to yank it back before my skin could touch the metal.

How was I going to get a job when I couldn’t fill out the application? Jade Morgan had no social security number. No bank account for direct deposit. Hell, I didn’t even have a valid driver’s license.

Duke’s phone would be ringing off the hook if anyone in this town suspected I’d been lying to him and that I was trying to con him into . . . whatever. They might have accepted me from a distance, but that man was loved.

Truly loved.

If the Calamity populous suspected I was screwing him over, I’d be chased out of town with pitchforks and torches.

A surge of pride put a smile on my face as I walked away from the café. Duke deserved that loyalty. He deserved to be loved so much.

I reached the end of First Street and crossed the road, walking down the other side to return to the Rover. After today, I finally felt like I had my bearings in town. I could point out the direction to the park where Duke and Travis had played baseball this summer. I’d learned that the school was on one side of town, east of First, and two of the three churches on the west. And I knew the names of most streets and businesses.

For a town the size of Calamity, there was more here than one would expect. It was something that had intrigued me when I’d done my online research, choosing the perfect place to restart my life. The chamber of commerce deserved a pat on their back for an alluring website that showcased the town.

The two-show movie theater was currently featuring an animated film for kids and an action movie. The Mexican restaurant hadn’t opened for the day yet, but there was a woman inside, sitting at a booth, rolling silverware in white napkins. The gift shop had put a sandwich board on the sidewalk, advertising forty percent off all summer apparel.

And every person I passed had a smile and a wave.

It was no secret who I was anymore. After the football game last week, word around town must have traveled fast. I was Duke’s girlfriend. I was the woman living in Widow Ashleigh’s place.

I was Jade.

Blech.

Every time the name crossed my mind these days, a sour taste spread across my tongue.

What the hell had I been thinking? Maybe I could pull this off for others, but for me? No way. I didn’t want to live a fake life. I didn’t want to saddle Duke with that kind of burden, forever calling me one name in public and another in private. How would he introduce me to his parents? What if we got married?

My dad wasn’t here to walk me down the aisle but it would have broken his heart to see me pledge myself to a man with a fake name.

On the flip side, the minute I confessed, the minute Lucy Ross was Calamity’s newest resident, it would cause upheaval. News outlets and paparazzi would swarm and probably annoy everyone in the county for information. I’d be flipping on a neon sign to my whereabouts, practically begging for my stalker to head out west.

Music hit my ears, distracting me from the Jade vs. Lucy dilemma, and I searched for the source. Ahead, the front door to Jane’s was propped open.

A band was playing and as I walked closer, the lead guitar hit a riff that sucked me right in. I matched my footsteps to the beat of the bass drum and I found myself in the doorway, tapping my hand on my thigh to the song.

This was the same band that had been playing the night Duke had brought me here for burgers. I’d been so busy worrying about him and being in public that I hadn’t really appreciated the lead singer. He had a smooth voice and a decent range.

“Hey, honey.”

I snapped out of my intense focus as Jane came my way through the darkened room. “Hi. Sorry, you’re probably not even open. I was just listening.”

“Oh, that sign doesn’t matter. Come in.” She waved me over the threshold and led the way to the bar, which was lined with empty stools. “Want a drink?”

“Water, please.”

“You got it.” She went behind the bar and filled a pint glass of ice water with a lemon wedge. “You feel the need for something stronger, just holler.”

“Thanks.” I raised my glass to her, then took a sip, swiveling in my seat to watch the band as she went to the other end of the bar to unload a dishwasher.

My foot tapped on my stool, and when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind the bar, there was a huge smile on my face.

Once upon a time, I had been the one at the bar rehearsing at ten in the morning for a ten at night show. Those were the early days, when the label wanted me at all the hot spots in Nashville. And those nights, the ones spent just feet away from the crowd, had been the best. When the people listening and singing along to my music made it that much sweeter.

When the band paused for a break, the lead singer set aside his guitar and walked behind the bar for his own glass of water. He shot me a smile and held out a hand. “Hey. I’m Andrew.”

“Jade. Nice to meet you.”

Jane left the notebook she’d been scribbling in beside the cash register and joined us. “Jade, you should hop up there and sing.”

I blinked, my heart in my throat. Why would she suggest that? “Huh?”

“Heard you singing along. You’re good,” she said. “Might as well try it behind the microphone.”

I’d been singing along? Well, hell. I hadn’t even noticed.

I should have stayed home.

“Come on up,” Andrew offered. “We’re harmless. Think of it like karaoke, but better. And there’s no crowd to heckle you.”

“Oh, no. That’s okay.”

“Come on.” He set down his water and nodded for me to follow him. “Guys, this is Jade. She’s going to sing a song.”

The drummer and the bass player both waved me up, so I slunk off my chair, my heart racing as I made my way to the stage.

I hadn’t been this nervous to step behind a microphone in years. But damn it, I really wanted to sing. To remember how it felt. To ensure the woman who’d loved to entertain wasn’t broken.

Because I had loved it.

I’d loved filling a stadium with my voice. I’d loved singing at the top of my lungs. I’d loved putting smiles on faces as people joined in, feeling the vibration of their claps as they kept time with mine.

My hands were trembling as I stepped onto the stage, dodging wires and amplifiers and mic stands.

I stretched to shake hands with the drummer. Joe looked to be in his forties with a thick white beard to make up for the complete lack of hair on top of his shiny head. Then I introduced myself to Gary, the bassist, who was apparently Andrew’s brother. Both had dark hair and warm smiles and when they told me they were Jane’s nephews, the resemblance clicked into place.

“Gary and I started a garage band when we were in high school,” Andrew said, slinging his guitar over his chest. “We were awful.”

“Either Aunt Jane saw our potential or she knew she’d get us at a screaming deal.” Gary chuckled. “She told us we could play at her bar when we learned enough covers for a full set.”

“So you’ve been playing here since high school?” Was that even legal?

“Pretty much.” Andrew shrugged. “That was over twenty years ago. We have real jobs and we don’t play here every weekend. Gary owns the Town Pump. Joe’s a mechanic at the garage. And I’m a freelance writer. We carve out Thursday mornings to rehearse and play a few weekends a month because it’s fun.”

“Very cool.” Had I not been discovered, this was probably what my life would have looked like too. Playing for the sake of playing.

Gary rapped his sticks on a snare. “What do you feel like singing, Jade?”

“What do you know?”

He grinned. “Everything.”

“All right.” I stood in front of the mic and flipped it on. “You guys know any songs by Dolly or Reba?”

I loved classic country. It wasn’t something I’d listened to as a kid but as my career had progressed, I’d found myself more and more drawn to the style and lyrics of artists like Loretta Lynn and Patsy Cline. It hadn’t been often that I could play those for an audience—even an audience of one bartender—because when I’d been behind a mic, it was to sing Lucy Ross branded music only.

“Sure.” Joe nodded and rattled off a list of song titles. “Take your pick.”

I chose a Dolly Parton hit, one that I knew best so I wouldn’t stumble on lyrics because unlike karaoke, there was no prompter here and it had been a while.

Gary tapped his sticks and counted off. “One. Two. Three. Four.”

Then they played.

And I sang.

Damn, did I sing.

My vocal cords were a little raw and the initial bars were raspy but as I worked them through that first song, they loosened up. By the time we’d played a Reba McEntire song and one from Patty Loveless, my range had expanded and my lungs weren’t on fire.

Joe strummed the opening notes of the next song and I froze. “Do you know ‘Midnight to Morning’ by Lucy Ross?”

I gulped and nodded, then without stopping to overthink or worry, I sang the song I’d written at three in the morning on a tour bus headed from Dallas to Las Vegas. The song lyrics were flirty and dirty. The tune was raucous and loud. It was the one I used to close a show because it was a no-holds-barred screamer with insane vocals. The label had made me tone it down some for the album. Peppy but not riotous.

Today, I sang it wild.

The feeling was second to none. Exhilarating. Stimulating. Thrilling. I closed my eyes and gripped the microphone, its handle warm from the heat of my palms. Standing on that stage in a nowhere bar in Nowhere, Montana, it was powerful to just be me.

For three minutes and twenty-six seconds, I was Lucy Ross.

Maybe I was bruised. Used. But the pain was fading. And I knew in my heart, I couldn’t give this music up. It would crush my soul.

The volume was full blast when I hit the ending. The guys were good and had followed my lead perfectly, letting me stretch where I wanted to and linger a little on my favorite parts. The last note rang through the bar, clinging to air until it finally faded and the only noise was the hum of a fan.

I came crashing back to reality.

Holy fuck.

That. Was. Awesome.

I choked down a laugh. My cheeks were flushed and I couldn’t hold my smile. “Thanks, guys. That was fun.”

“Damn.” Andrew looked at me with wide eyes.

Joe’s mouth was hanging open. Gary stared at me like I was a ghost.

“Um . . .” Andrew gulped, finally breaking the silence. “We don’t pay much. But, uh, would you like to join the band?”

They didn’t have to pay me. The music was enough.

And luckily, Jade Morgan wasn’t under contract with Sunsound Music Group and she could most definitely join a band.

“Yes, please.”