The Has-Been and the Hot Mess - Isabel Jordan Page 0,28

bark out a big, booming, gut-busting laugh. The sound of it shocked even him. He hadn’t laughed like that in, shit, had it been years? Probably.

Another thing he had Kendall to thank for.

He started to do just that, but stopped when he caught her staring at his mouth. And she wasn’t laughing. She looked hungry. As hungry as he felt for her.

There was really only one way this was going to end. And that was with her naked, flat on her back, and spread out on his dining room table on top of all of her meticulous research like a buffet.

Then? Regret. Lots and lots of regret.

Jackson cleared his throat, which seemed to snap her out of her stupor. She blinked up at him a few times, before giving him a tight smile.

“The rescue event is step two in my master plan,” she said. “Are you ready to discuss step three?”

Nope. Not even a little. “Sure. Why not?”

Chapter 16

Ray had already told her that step three of her plan was going to be the biggest hurdle.

Jackson hadn’t performed live in a really long time. And the whole time he had been performing live, he’d either been high as a kite or drunk off his ass. It was amazing he’d been able to sing a note on stage in the state he’d been in while touring with Maelstrom.

Ray wasn’t sure if he still played the guitar regularly, or if he even sang in the shower anymore. And even if she could get him to go along with it, this part of the plan was dicey.

And dicey was assuming everything went right. If not? Dumpster fire was probably closer to the truth.

But things were going her way tonight, so why not push her luck a little? Hell, she’d even made him laugh. That had to count for something, right?

Other than making her wet, of course.

Jackson raised a brow at her expectantly. Ah, yes, the plan.

She cleared her throat. “For the live entertainment portion of the event. We’ll bring in some great local bands. And…”

The brow inched up a little more. “You aren’t planning a Maelstrom reunion, are you? I’m pretty sure none of those guys ever want to speak to me again, let alone take the stage with me.”

“Oh, God, no.” She shook her head. The logistics of working that out would be horrifying. She shuddered. “We don’t want the attention on Maelstrom, anyway. We want the spotlight on you. I’m thinking just you, a guitar, and a couple of cover songs. Four songs, tops.”

He rubbed his jaw like he was thinking it over, which Kendall took as a good sign. At least he hadn’t started yelling at her yet.

“What songs were you thinking?”

She shrugged. “Whatever you want. Anything that can be stripped down to just one guitar, preferably acoustic. I don’t even want backup singers or other musicians near you on that stage. Is that a problem?”

Do you still play? Can you still play? Can you even still carry a tune after all these years?

But she kept those questions to herself. She’d just have to trust that if he couldn’t do this, he’d tell her.

Not that trust was easy for her these days. It at least seemed worth a try in this instance, though.

Jackson crossed his arms over his chest, looking a little irritated, a little nervous, and all kinds of hot. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Shouldn’t be made her edgy. She wasn’t going to lie.

“When are you thinking you can pull this whole thing together?” he asked.

“Normal promoters? A year, minimum. Me? I can do it in a few weeks.”

Cocky? Yes. Ambitious? Hell yes. True?

You bet your ass she could pull this off.

She’d have to call in every last favor she had in the entertainment industry, but she’d get it done. She didn’t have a choice. Not with both her career and Jackson’s hanging in the balance.

That brow inched up again. “Weeks? All this in a few weeks?”

No hesitation. “Yep.”

“And you want me to have up to four songs, stripped down and stage-ready in a few weeks? When I haven’t played live in fifteen years?”

Tiny little hesitation. “Yep.”

He stared at her for a solid minute like she’d just sprouted a second head. Then he blew out a harsh breath and said, “You swing for the fences, Kendall Quinn. I’ll give you that.”

She gave him a sheepish shrug. “I’ve been told it’s endearing?”

“By who?”

“Um…my mom. Maybe my nanna one time?”

There was that laugh again. The one that seemed to shoot like