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“Same. Gotta say thanks for having a show tonight and needing Jazz’s services. Got me a free night away from the kidlet and some girl time.” She linked arms with Jazz, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Hell yeah, me too. Deacon and Gray are home watching the rugrats and we get to have some adult beverages after this. We even brought some friends.” Jazz pointed at a tall, lanky guy with long blond hair pulled back in a tail. “Randy Pruitt, this is Michael Shawcross, lead guitarist with Warning Sign. Randy is Harper’s younger brother. He’s also on the lighting crew for Oblivion and a couple of other bands. Lila pulled him in to do his magic here too.”

“Magic? In this rickety old place?” Michael slapped hands with the guy. “If you manage that, we’ll beg you to come out on our tour too.”

“That might be arranged.” Randy smiled and stepped back as Jazz pulled forward her last two friends.

Damn, she might be small, but she traveled with an entourage.

“Michael, you already know Hunter Jordan, the lead singer of Hammered?”

“Of course. He’s a legend.”

Hunter held up a hand. “If you’re going to make a penis joke, rest assured I’ve heard them all before.”

Hunter was referring to the article in Rolling Stone that had boosted his band’s profile into the stratosphere the previous year. “Nah, man, I’m hoping to dethrone you.” Michael grinned and fistbumped with Hunter, who only laughed.

“And this is Tristan Eves, Hunter’s best friend and the dude who is helping Harp and me to make the most incredible baby food in the history of life. He’s also a chef and he tries to outdo me on the hair dye score, but it’s not gonna happen.” Jazz pulled on the blue tips of Tristan’s hair and he chuckled.

“I couldn’t possibly outdo you. You probably used up most of the dye on the west coast anyway.”

Jazz poked him in the arm. “Wise ass.”

“Besides, you’re back to brown again. What’s up with that?”

“Shh, don’t remind her or she’ll say it’s time to get pregnant again,” Harper teased.

Michael lifted a brow. “Don’t you have like three babies already?”

“Just two, and two is plenty for right now. Can’t a girl go au naturel? Jeez. Hey Randy,” she called as the guy whipped out his phone and started walking away. “Take Eves the big mouth with you, why don’t you?”

Randy glanced back with a distracted smile. “Sorry. Can’t bring any newbs behind the board. Sounds like we have a situation anyway.”

“Why, you afraid I’ll trip on a cord or something?” Tristan elbowed Hunter. “I say we go swing from the lighting rig and get him to loosen his shorts.”

“You mean crap his shorts?” Harper asked drily. “He’s all about safety on a set.”

Juliet let out an earsplitting whistle.

“Hey people, y’all ready to go on stage or what? Let’s freaking go already.”

Michael linked fingers with Jazz. “Guess it’s time, Mrs. Duffy.”

“Wow, no rude nicknames. So odd backstage before a show.” Jazz grinned up at him and waved at her departing friends as they disappeared back under the curtain to head back into the audience. “I think I like you.”

“I like you too.” He lowered his voice to a mock whisper. “Can we keep you and send back Molly?”

“I heard that,” Molly said from behind him as they all walked onstage.

He laughed as the crowd started to hoot and holler. He’d come to the club tonight in absolutely the worst mood, not in the least bit ready to perform, but he was in his element now. It didn’t matter if the stage was a big one like House of Blues or a relatively small one like the Rhino. Once he strapped on his guitar and his band filtered out around him, taking their spots, his mind clicked into place.

Nothing mattered except the show. The music. Everything else would fall in line or it wouldn’t, but right now, he was ready to rock.

“Well, hello LA,” Molly purred into the mic with Ryan at her side. She wasn’t about to give up greeting the crowd twice, whether or not he was hurt. “How y’all feeling tonight?”

She got the requisite applause and catcalls, and Ryan pumped his good fist. “So did you guys notice we have someone you all might be just a little bit familiar with back there on the kit? Mrs. Jasmine Duffy, also known as Jazz, the kickass drummer from a small time band you might’ve heard of once or twice named Oblivion.” He grinned as the clapping morphed into a dull roar. “Give it up for Jazz!”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s enough of that. Don’t swell up my big sister’s head.” But Molly smiled over her shoulder at Jazz to let her know she was kidding.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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