* * * *
Backstage and behind the scenes, traffic was flowing smoothly as the roadies bustled around efficiently packing up the stage and equipment. Security set to work clearing the amphitheater, pushing the stragglers toward the door and discouraging those diehards trying to sweet talk themselves into the backstage area. Behind the stage, the band and their ever-present bodyguards passed through the halls crammed full of applauding well-wishers. James’s personal bodyguard and all-around go-to guy Kevin Bellamy walked next to him as they headed back to the dressing rooms. The muscular Army veteran, who went by the unlikely moniker Spiderman, had been with the band since their first tour. James both liked and trusted the soft-spoken Southerner.
“Are you sure, Kev?” James asked for the third time, “I mean, she was right there. She can’t have gotten out that fast. She was left of center stage a dozen rows back or so. Curly red hair, black t-shirt. She had on one of them glowing necklace things. You can’t find her?”
Kevin shook his head. “I looked everywhere. I even radioed up to the exits as soon as you asked about her.” The bodyguard shot a dubious glance at his charge. “You’ve never asked me to go out and hunt down a specific woman for you before. They always line up and you load your plate like you’re in some kinda chick cafeteria. She must have been seriously hot.”
James’s eyes went unfocused for a moment. He didn’t know if she was hot or not. The second he saw her, it was like everything just stopped. Weird, like he knew her. Or he was supposed to. An unexplainable sense of loss crept over him and he quivered in response, shaking his head at the strange feelings.
“Guess I’ll never know.”
1
Ontario, Canada–Three years later– the third week of December
Closing the door behind him with the stealth of a hunting cat, James didn’t turn on the lights of his high-rise hotel room. “Free at last.” He exhaled with a relieved sigh. His relief lasted only a moment, however. Without warning, the lights suddenly blazed on and a low, sexy voice purred, “Surprise!”
Startled, he jumped even though he had halfway expected his uninvited and unwelcome visitor. “What th’ feckin’ hell are ye doing in my room?” he demanded, his accent becoming more pronounced in his anger. He cringed, unable to escape the thought that the groupies seemed to get younger every year.
The leggy blonde sauntered toward him, discarding her clothing piece by piece. “Now is that any way to talk to the woman who’s going to keep you up the rest of the night?” she cooed.
Her suggestive words scraped his nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. Raising his hands palms up, he backed away from her and said, “That’s it. I’m callin’ security.” He reached for the phone and she immediately closed the distance between them, running her hands all over his body in an obvious attempt to dissuade him.
“Don’t. Please. Let me show you how good I can be,” she begged, tugging at the zipper on his jeans.
He took a deep, calming breath and pushed her away as gently as he could. “If you get dressed and leave–and I mean right this minute, darlin’–I won’t call. I’ll give you to the count of ten.”
The young woman stared back at him, saucer-eyed in disbelief.
“Ten, nine…best get moving, love…” James stood with legs braced apart and his arms folded across his chest.
With a choked noise somewhere between anger and anguish, she snatched up her discarded clothes and began yanking them back on.
“…eight, seven…”
“All right, all right,” she snapped, “I get it.” Pulling her strategically ripped tank top over her head she mumbled through the thin fabric, “I thought maybe…that we...sorry I bothered you.”
James took pity on the disappointed groupie. With his most disarming smile he captured her hand and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles. “Darlin’, I’m sure I’ll be regrettin’ this moment for the rest of my life, because I know without a doubt we would have been wonderful together. I’m just out of sorts tonight. It’s me, sweetheart, certainly not you, lovely as you are.” He walked to the door and held it open for her as a broad hint. The young woman managed to summon the tiniest bit of dignity as she stalked past him, chin raised. He closed the door behind her and locked it securely.
After scouring the room to ensure no more unwelcome surprises, he cracked the balcony door open for some fresh air. Replacing his jeans with a pair of soft cotton sweats and tugging off his t-shirt, he turned off the lights again. He collapsed onto the bed and had nearly dozed off when the phone rang.
“Seamus! Did I catch you at a bad time?” a familiar voice asked.
James sat up, elated to hear his older brother on the other end of the line. “Nope, sorry. This room belongs to James Kelly, beloved and adored by millions the world over.”
“Seamus…”
“James–I mean, if you’re after calling me and all, the least you could do is use my name proper like…”
“My brother’s name is Seamus. That’s the name Ma sewed into his bloomers so that he’d know which way they went on.”
“You’re such an arsehole, Ian. I never…”
James could hear the grin in Ian’s voice. “No, but it might have saved you a lot of grief if she did. So, did I catch you at a bad time or not? “
“No, not at all, just finished…tidying my room a bit,” he said. “How are you? Is everything all right?”
Ian laughed. “Everything’s fine. I just called to give you a bit of news. I asked Lily to marry me and she said yes.”
“Em…bad connection, I think. Sounded like you said you and Lily are getting married. Didn’t see anything on the news about hell freezing over.”
Ian laughed again. “Nope, you heard right. We’re getting married.”
James whooped in delight. “It’s about time. I’m deliriously happy for you, old man. Can’t wait to meet her.”
“I’ve got to talk to her da to get his approval, but I think he’ll agree to it,” he explained, his voice softening. “I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am, Seamus.”
“I’m happy for you, my brother. Set a date yet?”
“Not yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as I can. You’ll be here, right? I can’t get married without you here.”
James smiled into the darkness. “I’ll be there, come hell or high water. You won’t keep me away.” Changing the subject, he asked, “How are you feeling these days?”
“Pretty good. I still get headaches here and there, doctor said they might be ongoing. They’re manageable, though. Lily’s good as new, thankfully,” Ian said. “I’m sure you’re busy doing rock star stuff, so I won’t keep you. It’s good talking to you, Seamus. I miss you, pompous wee git.” After a pause, he added quietly, “Are you well? You don’t sound so good.”
James felt a lump form in his throat. “I’m grand, thanks, just…a little tired. I miss you too, you big bastard. Call me as soon as you set the date so I can schedule around it.” He lay back on the bed after the call ended, letting the phone slip from his fingers. Ian willingly settling down and get married–that was something James never thought he’d see.
For a long time he drifted lost in thought, absently fingering the Celtic touchstone suspended on a leather thong around his throat. He untied