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“Layla Rose, huh?” He listened to Jagger and smiled wider. “She is a little prickly, now that you mention it.”
I swore. “Do not listen to him. He’s a sorry liar and whatever he’s saying is bullshit.”
Mack looked over my head at Jones and Xavier. “Layla was named after the Eric Clapton song and her middle name, Rose, is from the Poison song.”
“Every Rose has its Thorn?” Jones let out a laugh. “Wow.”
I shook my head. My entire childhood, every time I got angry, one of my parents would sing the song at me. They’d said they doomed themselves to a sassy kid when they named me Rose. It was something I’d pretended to hate but I secretly loved it. Grandma and Jagger were the only people in my life who still sang it at me when I acted spicy with them.
“Well, Jagger, thank you for giving me that information, but I’m in desperate need of a beer.” Mack looked back down at me and his smile was devious. “And don’t worry, Jagger. Your sister doesn’t look desperate.”
I took the phone and turned away from them while pressing it to my ear. “Happy now?”
“Are you hooking up with them? I swear to god, I recognize the sound of a boner and that man had one when he said that last bit.” Jagger didn’t sound angry, like he normally would’ve. He was the stereotypical big brother and loved threatening men who looked at me. “Wait. Let me talk to him again.”
“No!” I lowered my voice and tried again. “No. Not a chance. Goodnight, Jagger. I love you. Talk to you later, okay?”
He grumbled. “Take pictures. I love you, too. Even more now.”
I hung up and turned back towards the guys. I took a big breath in and blew it out slowly. “One picture. Please, take one picture with me so he’ll shut up about it.”
Mack grinned and nodded. “Let’s do it at the bar. We can have someone take it for us.”
“Thank you. He’s a huge fan. I didn’t know he was going to word vomit, though.” I patted my hips and sides while I spoke, trying to find a pocket for my phone and credit card, but I quickly realized I had no pockets. I frowned until Xavier gently took my phone and card from my hand and slid it into his own pocket. Smiling up at him, I put my hand on his arm and squeezed. “Thanks, Xavier.”
He nodded and shifted away again. “Our ride’s outside if you’re ready.”
“I am. As long as this is okay to wear wherever we’re going.” I scanned their faces and saw so much masculine approval that my body heated. “Okay, I’ll take that as a sign that I’m good to go.”
Their ride was a blacked out giant SUV. A driver held the back door open on the side parked closest to the bus and waited. He was a lot smaller than the guys, but I saw a bulge under his jacket that told me he was armed. Being from a small town in Tennessee, I easily recognized the shape of a gun under a jacket. You couldn’t throw a rock back home without hitting someone holding a gun. So, maybe don’t throw rocks in small town, Tennessee.
“Gary, this is Layla Rose. She’s with us tonight.” Jones patted the driver on the arm and motioned for me to climb in. “Ladies first.”
I looked at the step up from the ground to the backseat and then down at my skirt. Before I could work out how to get in the car without flashing my panties, Jones wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me in. I gasped and grabbed his hands, but then I was in the car. I twisted around to face him and he winked before motioning for me to scoot over.
To be nice, I moved to the back row so they didn’t have to wedge themselves there. As I buckled myself in, though, I watched Jones wedge his large body into the seat next to me. I smiled as I looked away, flattered that he’d chosen to sit with me.
Xavier and Mack got in and then Gary was behind the wheel, driving us to whatever bar we were going to. I was sure I was going to lose them when we got to the bar, after the bar patrons saw the members of JAX had just walked in.
“Hey, in case we get split up at the bar, do you think you guys could just put my bag outside the bus when you get back tonight? I should’ve brought it, but I didn’t think about it.”
They each turned to me with confused expressions on their faces but it was Jones who spoke first. “We’re not getting split up. You came with us, you’re leaving with us. Does that shit normally happen when you go out? Do your friends just split up and leave you behind?”
I grinned and crossed my legs. “What friends? I work eighty hours a week, at least. This is the first vacation I’ve taken since I started working for Bingham. It’s been months since I’ve been to a bar. I just meant that I’m sure y’all are going to get swarmed by adoring fans, rightfully so. I’m not fighting anyone to stay close to y’all. Sorry, but it would be too easy for a boob to pop out and that’s one of my biggest fears. I watched it happen to a lady on Beale Street in Memphis one time and I’ve never been the same.”
They all just stared at me.
“What? You don’t understand. There would be nothing more humiliating to me than a video coming out showing me getting my ass beat with one titty hanging out. I would never recover.” I shuddered. “That poor woman. I think about her all the time. I hope she’s okay.”
They erupted in laughter at the same time and it really showed how bonded they were. Their laughter almost harmonized. I loved the sound of it and knowing that I’d caused it.
Mack recovered first. “You’re not going to have to fight anyone. We’re too old for the typical bar scene. This is just our chance to unwind, but do it someplace that doesn’t smell like the three of us when we haven’t showered in a few days. There won’t be anyone at the bar except us and the bartender.”
I scoffed. “Did you just say you’re too old? Are you serious?”
Jones grunted. “We’re in our forties.”
I looked each of them over again and somehow, knowing they were older just made them even hotter. They were aging like fine wine. Or George Clooney. I didn’t want to be obvious about my attraction to them, so I tried to compliment them in a different way. “Have the panties and bras thrown at you slowed down any now that you’re in your forties?”
