After a three-hour weather delay, we finally touch down in Nashville just before five p.m.
Nearly four hours of being lectured by Anika had me fantasizing about throwing open that emergency exit and jumping to my own death. I mean, not really, but Jesus Christ, the girl knows how to beat a dead horse.
“You ordered a limo?” I ask as we prepare to deplane onto the runway, expecting to find one of our usual black Navigators with dark-tinted windows waiting to whisk us away.
“It was all the service had available.” She shrugs as I move aside to let her down the steps first.
“Well, isn’t this just our lucky day, then?” I follow behind her to the car, gearing up for another ass chewing on the drive to the condo that she, our keyboardist Aiden, and I are sharing.
When we’re about five feet away, the doors swing open, and clusters of white, black, and gold balloons billow out into the air.
“Congratulations!” Rhett, Nick, and Aiden shout while firing confetti blasters in my direction.
“Surprise!” Anika cracks an enormous smile, a stark contrast to the grimace she’s been sporting since I saw her yesterday. “You didn’t think we’d let you get married without a bachelor party, did you?” With a snort, she throws her arms around my neck. “Congratulations, asshole! No more surprises, huh?”
“I’ll do my best,” I say, knowing full well I’m already hiding the fact that Sammi’s got a bun in her oven. But it’s important to my wife to keep that under wraps until her father passes, and my loyalty is to her first and foremost.
“You think you know a guy,” our drummer, Nick, muses on his way over to shake my hand. “She must be some girl.”
“She is.” I’m grinning like a fool. “Can’t wait for y’all to meet her.”
“You met her, right, Annie?” Rhett probes. “First impression?”
“I don’t think we really hit it off…” Cringing, she combs a hand through her long dark hair, pulling it over a shoulder and nervously fiddling with the ends.
“Gee…” I roll my eyes. “Wonder why that is?”
“Let’s not harp on the past.” Anika says, ushering us toward the limo. “Time to get this party started!”
As far as apologies go, this is the best I could hope to get from Annie. She’s a tough egg to crack, but once you’ve broken through that hard exterior, you won’t find anyone more loyal.
“What’d you do?” Aiden gives her a judgy look before helping her into the car and scooting across the seat to sit beside her. He drapes an arm over her shoulders and pulls her close.
Those two have a weird, touchy-feely relationship. Weird because she’s a lesbian. If you didn’t know it, you’d never guess by the way they interact with one another. Get a few drinks in ’em and the sparks start flying.
Sometimes I wonder if she’s the reason he’s never seriously dated anyone. Of course, he could just like fucking with her and knowing she’ll never expect it to lead anywhere.
“Why’s it have to be my fault?” She takes the offered shot glass from his hand and gives the amber liquid a sniff.
My former wingman tosses a shot of whiskey back himself, trying not to choke on his response. “Because you’re a raging cunt.”
Now it’s her turn to choke.
While everyone’s entertained by their antics, I fire off a quick text to Sammi.
Me: Just landed. The guys picked me up for a surprise bachelor party. I hope you’re having a great day with your friends. Miss you plenty already.
Jailbait: It was good. Got the license. Frank’s about to drop me off at dinner with my parents.
Me: Tell them I said hey. Friday can’t get here soon enough. Love you, Li’l Bit.
Jailbait: I love you too. Have fun at your party.
Me: Can I call you when I get in?
Jailbait: You better.
“So, why the urgency?” Rhett, our lead singer and band’s namesake asks. “I’m not trying to be a dick. I really am happy for you, but why’d you jump right into marriage instead of just asking her out? Seems a bit extreme.”
It’s a fair question. “Her dad, man. He, uh… He’s dying.”
“Shit.” His face falls. “I’m sorry.”
I clear my throat, still having a hard time accepting that this man who was like a second father to me will be gone so soon. “I knew how much it meant for her to have him walk her down the aisle, and if we didn’t do it right then, he’d likely not get the chance.”
“That was a really selfless thing to do,” Nick says, the mood in the car sobering.
“Doesn’t feel selfless though,” I say, finally understanding why it drove my mother so crazy when everyone told her what a saint she was for adopting me. When you love someone, the last thing you want is for anyone to reduce them to a charity project. It doesn’t matter how good their intentions are. It digs. Truth is, if either of us is lucky, it’s me, and I know it. “Not when I was just freaking the fuck out, thinking she was about to marry another man.”
I still can hardly wrap my head around how close I came to losing her. “Opportunity presented itself, and I went for it.”
“Crazy.” Aiden shakes his head. “You been in love with this chick all this time and never said a word.”
“Thought this was supposed to be a party?” grumbles Anika, refilling her shot glass for at least the third time.
“Wait? Where’re we going?” I start to panic when I recognize that we’re headed toward Broadway Street. I hope like hell they didn’t plan this shit at one of the places Aiden and I frequent when we’re on the prowl.
“You’ll see.” Her playful tone says Anika’s well on her way to tipsy already.
Good. We all like her better that way.
“The sign’s up!” I note when the limousine rolls to a stop in front of our bar; there’s a yellow neon “Booze & Bad Decisions” sign glowing above the door.
The band recently purchased one of the older honky-tonks to renovate as our home base. The hundred-year-old building is built like a fortress and is practically a historical landmark ’round these parts. It’s in a prime location with an excellent three-story layout. With a little TLC, we knew her potential was endless.
And the idea of sticking around in one spot to play regularly scheduled shows sounded like some kind of heaven.
Sure hope my wife’s cool with the idea of relocating.
We still have so much to discuss regarding our future. With how fast everything happened, there was no time. But surely she realized in accepting my proposal that we wouldn’t be living out our lives in San Robles Shores.
“Hey, the lights are on…” I begin to grow a little suspicious as I look around at their smiling faces. “Hold up…” My chest starts vibrating to a familiar beat. “Is that bass coming from inside?”
Boss lady’s grin widens. “What better time to give the new digs a trial run?” Anika rubs her palms together. “There’s still plenty to be done upstairs and on the rooftop terrace, but the main floor is mostly good to go.”
Our security team bursts through the front doors, releasing the now-familiar balloon bouquets. They look like a bunch of giant pansies.
I fucking love those guys.
“You threw this together in a day?” I can’t help smiling at Ron, Josh, and Reginald in their matching “team groom” ballcaps and tees.
“You sound surprised.” With a haughty smirk she exits the vehicle, joining our bodyguards who’ve come out to escort us the twenty or so feet to the bar. Sometimes it all seems so excessive.
“I am very surprised,” I huff. “You weren’t exactly happy with me.”
“Oh, I’m still not.” She levels me with an icy glare, but there’s a rare hint of laughter shining in her tawny irises. “A party is to be expected. Gotta keep up appearances.”
“Uh-huh.” I follow her inside. “You like me. I’m your favorite,” I singsong. “Admit it.”
She throws a hand into the air without looking back and pinches her fingers together. “Maybe just a tad.”
“I think we all know who Annie’s favorite is,” Aiden drawls, jumping ahead of me to slap her on the ass. “Isn’t that right, pixie-pie?”
Her head whirls in his direction. “That’s because so far you’re the only one in the bunch who can manage to keep his ass out of the headlines.”
“I do not accept that answer.” His tone is indignant. “Our connection…it’s so much deeper.”
Anika balks, stopping short. With a hand on her hip, she stares after him, awaiting his explanation.
“You want me for my hot bod.” He tosses his hair back and smooths a hand down his chest. “It’s quite obvious.”
“Well…” She stares up at him, batting her sooty lashes. “I do find you most appealing to look at.”
“Hah!” He pumps a fist, claiming victory. “Knew it!”
Fingers pinched to her chin, she eyes him thoughtfully. “Makes sense, seeing as you have the most feminine features.” She lifts onto her tippy toes and reaches up to push his long dark hair behind his ear to drive her point home.
“Cunt,” he grumbles, stalking off to play behind the bar.
I look around in awe. “Place looks great!”
It’s been less than a week since we last stopped by to check on the progress, and the difference is staggering. The construction crew said things would start moving quickly, and they weren’t kidding. This place went from little more than a shell to a country music fan’s paradise.
We opted for dim lighting with an industrial feel. Black, wrought iron pipe chandeliers hang from the ceiling with Jim Beam bottles in place of globes. They line the bar that follows the entire right side, as well as the rectangular one in the center of the room where Aiden and Rhett are living out their dreams of tending bar. Whiskey barrel tables take up the space along the left side of the room with inverted beer glass light fixtures.
The floor is scored concrete, stained a rusty brown. The walls are red brick, and massive exposed beams in the ceiling coordinate with the wood used to build the stage and bar tops.
A clattering of glass sends Anika rushing over in a tizzy to our amateur mixologists.
“Seriously, Rhett?” She shakes her head. “What the heck made you think you could juggle liquor bottles? Clean that shit up.”
“Calm your tits, boss-babe,” Nick chides. “He was practicing his flair.”
“Give me that.” She snatches the rag from Rhett, shoving him aside to mop up the mess she just told him to take care of.
Can you say control freak?
“What’cha got goin’ on over here?” My eyes scan the shooters Aiden’s got lined up in front of him.”
“Liquid Cocaine.” Aiden does a little shimmy as he passes the first shot to Anika, who’s still crouched on the floor, then one to each of us. He lifts his own into the air for a toast. “To settling.”
“Settling?” I furrow a brow, pausing midway to my mouth.
“Down,” he adds, smacking himself in the forehead, as if he can’t believe he messed that up. “Settling down.”
Nick scoffs, shaking his head at the foolishness. “Bottoms up, boys.” The beefy blonde giant extends his in the air for a second before tossing back the shot of sparkling water Aiden prepared just for him.
Nick’s recovery is something the entire group takes seriously.
We all follow suit. My boy was not messing around. The combination of Bacardi, Rumple Minze, Jägermeister, and Goldschlager leaves a prickly burn in my throat as it settles warm in my stomach. The smell alone could clear your sinuses.
“Take your shirt off.” Anika reaches for the bottom of my tee, offering her assistance with the endeavor.
“Hey now…” I swat her hands away, taking a step back. “I’m all for strippers, but I’m the guest of honor tonight, not the entertainment.” I cross my arms on my chest, lean back, and quirk a brow. “You take off your shirt.”
Aiden reaches for something beneath the bar then tosses a wad of black cotton at me. “Put that on, dumbass.”
I shake it out to read what it says. “One clit, that’s it,” I mutter before busting out with a laugh. So fucking Aiden…the self-proclaimed connoisseur of cooch.
“I just landed myself the Cristal of pussy, my friend.” I roll my tongue over my lips, my heart rate increasing as I recall her unique taste. “My girl is a fucking delicacy,” I say, swapping shirts.
Aiden sneers. “There’s not a woman on this planet I’d swap my diverse palate for.” He makes a V with his pointer and middle fingers and laps his tongue greedily between them. “Variety is the spice of life, after all.”
“That kind of variety also leads to STDs, but do you, booboo,” queen bee says, giggling as she brushes a hand over his chest on her way to the massive stage set up on the back wall.
“Testing, testing…” Anika’s voice booms through the surround sound, followed by the thump of her finger tapping the mic. “Lyle…” She motions toward a lone chair in the center of the dance floor. “Take a seat and prepare to be entertained.”
I snatch one of the concoctions Rhett just whipped up off the bar before rushing over and plopping into my assigned seat. I make a show of scrubbing my hands together in anticipation for her performance. “I’m ready,” I tell her, digging into my wallet for some cash. “Take it all off, Annie!” I fan a wad of bills into the air, just as the guys move to join her on stage.
“Wait…” I look around anxiously, finding our security guys cackling at their post near the front door. “You fuckers better keep your damn clothes on.”
“Calm down, pervert. Ain’t that kinda party.” Annie straightens her blouse. “We’ve each prepared a special song in honor of your big day.”
“You’re singing?” My eyes grow wide because, holy hell, she is the worst. I’m talking so bad she can’t even get the lyrics to our songs right. This girl is a special level of musically challenged. “Oh, this I gotta see. This might even be better than a peep show.”
She ignores my comment, signaling Rhett up. “For our first act of the night, we have the one and only Rhett Taylor, who arranged a special acoustic rendition of ‘Danger Zone’ by Kenny Loggins.”
“Nice,” I say, snickering at his song choice as he lugs a stool behind him and gets situated at the mic.
A few lines in and I forget he’s trying to be funny. The guy’s got chops. He could record this shit and have a hit with it tomorrow.
“Lyle,” he sniggers into the mic as he strums the last chords on his guitar, “hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, my man.”
“All right, now that the professional has properly shown off,” Anika says, shooing Rhett away, “the rest of tonight’s performances will be conducted karaoke style. Nicholas Potter is up with ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ from musical legend Queen.”
Nice. “I’m beginning to sense a theme here.”
“Oh, you just wait.” Anika’s comeback has me wondering even more what the hell she’s chosen for her song.
“Congrats, bud,” Nick says when the first beats come through the speaker. “Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy.” He takes a pull from his beer before stretching his arms out like he’s preparing for a sporting event. “Take that any way ya like.” With an exaggerated wink, he yanks the mic from the stand and puts all he’s got into rocking the joint.
As Nick winds to a close there’s a scuffle to the left where Anika and Aiden appear to be arguing over whose turn it is.
Next thing I know, Aid’s lugging her to center stage. “And now Anika will do her worst with Kanye’s ‘Gold Digger.’”
“Of course.” I shake my head, laughing to myself.
She’s swaying a little when he sets her to her feet and reaches around to lower the mic to pint-sized.
“Don’t fuck with my track,” she warns her bestie as he runs off stage. Apparently, he was trying to find an instrumental to swap it out with. “Here I go,” she says when Jamie Fox’s part comes on. “I’m gonna sing along with the words, so I don’t forget.”
I give her a thumbs up, dying laughing when she starts and stumbles through the entire song, belting out each chorus with the utmost confidence, like she didn’t just decimate Kanye’s track.
“For real,” she slurs as her song draws to a close. “I’m happy for you if you’re happy. That’s all I want for all of you assholes.” An extremely rare tear trickles down her cheek, and she swats it away with excessive force. “I just hope you thought to get a prenup.”
I shake my head, knowing I have no need for that shit. I’d never have insulted Sammi in suggesting one.
“We’ll discuss later.” She’s still wagging a finger at me when Rhett drags her from the mic.
“My turn, bitches!” Aiden darts onto the stage with a fucking tablecloth tied around his neck to serve as a cape. Who does he think he is?
“Clearly, we saved the best for last. Tonight, I’m gonna sing a little tune you may have heard before, from none other than Jay Z. It’s called ‘99 Problems.’”
He raps along to the track, not missing a single word as he stomps around the stage, flapping his cape. The energy is nonstop all the way through until he finishes with an emphatic, “I got ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain’t one!” and drops the mic.
“What’s this picture you sent me?” There’s an unmistakable laughter in her voice. “Are you motorboating a titty cake?”
“Yup.” I yawn, fighting to keep focused enough to carry on a conversation. “It said, ‘Tit’s your day.’ You know…before I destroyed those bazoombas.”
“Of course.” She cackles, then clears her throat. “I love that they did this for you.”
We’ve been on the phone for over thirty minutes, and I’m just now remembering about her dad’s appointment today. “Jesus,” I groan. “Here I am going on and on about clits and tits and Jager Bombs. I’m so sorry, babe. How was your dad’s appointment?”
“Actually,” she says, her voice perking up. “It was good news for once. You know that trial he’s in? The one that hasn’t really made any difference so far?”
“Yeah…” I hedge, sensing a but.
“Well, his numbers looked significantly better today. They want to get him in for a PET scan in the next few days to determine how much it’s actually helping, but this is promising.”
“Hell yeah, it is.” Her news gives me a second wind. “Babe, this is fucking fantastic.”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but who am I kidding, right?”
“Hope is all you have right now. Give up on that and you might as well give up altogether.”
“I just have a really good feeling.” I can hear the smile in her voice, and it sends a burst of warmth shooting through my chest.
“Cling to it.”
“Lyle,” she rasps.
“Yeah?”
“I think you’re my good luck charm.”
“Oh yeah?” I sink deeper into the mattress, “Why’s that?”
“A week ago, my life was in shambles, and from the second I opened that door and saw your face, it’s just steadily gotten better.”
“It’s kismet.”
“Huh?”
“The universe rewards what’s right,” I explain. “It’s like destiny.”
“I like that. It’s beautiful.”
“Embrace the good and keep focusing on the future,” I slur, the booze starting to pull me under. “I have a feeling it’s only up from here.”
