Blue Christmas (The Moody Blue Trilogy | Book One) (6 page)

Stealing
glances at me like a shy school boy?

“Honey, that was
outstanding,” Frank said, interrupting her thoughts. “And to think you did it
all by yourself.”

“Hey! I still know
how to put a meal together,” she teased. “Just because Jason insists I hire a
little help around this big ol’ house doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten all my old
recipes.”

“Laura, thank you
so much,” Hannah added. “Thanks for inviting me to join you all tonight. Everything
was
so
good
.
They’re right—you’re an amazing cook.”

Jason snorted and
leaned toward her. “You should see what she does with lima beans. To
die
for.”

Laura sighed
audibly. “Jason, would you leave the poor girl alone?”

“Actually,” his
eyes twinkled with mischief. “I was thinking I’d challenge her to a game of
pool. You like to play, Hannah?”

“Me? Well, yeah,
but I need to go. It’s been really nice but it’s getting pretty late.”

Frank stood up,
coffee mug in hand. “I was just thinking about that. It’s almost one o’clock, Hannah. I think you ought to stay over instead of getting out on the road
tonight. Jason could take you home if you’re not comfortable with that. But I’m
a bit uneasy for anyone to be out on the streets this late, especially during
the holidays. Most folks don’t know when to draw the line on their holiday
cheer, if you know what I mean.”

Laura jumped at
the idea. “Frank’s right. And besides, that way you can spend the day with us
tomorrow if you don’t have any plans.”

Hannah’s heart
began to pound a little harder.
Christmas with Jason McKenzie and his
family? No, no, no.
“No, no—that would really be too much,” she said,
begging off as best she could. “I just couldn’t—”

“Nonsense. Sure you could,”
Jason said. “You’re just afraid I’ll beat you at pool, aren’t you? A little
chicken, are we? That’s it, of course. You’re chicken.” His eyes taunted her. “Bawk
bawk bawk . . .”

Throwing all her
inner restraint out the window, she took the bait. “You’re on.”

“Whoa! Sounds to
me like you’ve played a little pool before?”

“Well now, you’ll
just have to find that out for yourself, won’t you? But weren’t you doing the dishes
for your mother tonight? I wouldn’t want to keep you from your obligations.”

“Hardly,” Laura
balked. “I wouldn’t let him near these good dishes. Hannah, go on and get him
out of here for me. You two have a good time. Frank and I are going to turn in
for the night. Jason, show her to her room. Why don’t you put her in JT’s
room?”

“Excuse me?”
Hannah coughed. JT Malone—the bad boy of
Blue
. Numerous body piercings,
tattoos, and hair color that changed almost weekly. His husky baritone voice
was the perfect compliment to their legendary harmonies, and his renegade
reputation earned him recognition as “the wild one.”

Jason laughed at
her again. “No, silly, you’re not
rooming
with JT. Mom’s got all the
guest rooms designated for the guys. They all show up at one time or another
and she insists on making them feel at home. You don’t mind staying in JT’s
room, do you? I promise he’s not here at the moment.”

“Oh, I guess I can
stand it,” she teased. She tried to hide her embarrassment at the mistaken
assumption.

“Come on.” Jason
grabbed her hand. “The pool table is downstairs. You’ll love the game room.
Wait ’til you see what Mom’s done with it.”

Chapter 4

Stepping down the
last three stairs into the expansive game room felt like stepping into a
museum. That’s because it
was
a museum. Laura had covered the walls with
professionally framed photographs documenting the entire history of
Out of
the Blue.

“This is amazing!
Look how young you guys were!” Hannah laughed, pointing to an early cover on
Teen
magazine. “JT without tats or piercings? This must have been a nursery shoot.”

Jason set up the
billiard balls. “I know, doesn’t he look like a big baby? Check that one out
over there,” he pointed with a cue stick. “Get a load of Jackson. I don’t think
his voice had even changed yet.
‘Never gonna leave you, baby . . .’
he mimicked, croaking the
Blue
hit like an adolescent.

“Stop!” She
laughed. “Besides, you don’t exactly look like an old geezer either, Jason. Is
that peach fuzz I see on your chin here?” She leaned closer to examine another
group shot.

“Ouch? Pretty fast
with the comebacks, are we?”

Hannah looked from
picture to picture, enthralled with the captured history of the group she had
once followed so faithfully all those years. Photos of the five at dozens of
music award shows, appearances on television and concert stages, and many from
photo shoots that adorned magazine covers for years. Among them, Laura had
included enlarged personal snapshots the guys had taken—horsing around
backstage, at recording sessions, on the tour buses as they traveled.

It was almost more
than she could absorb. She took a deep breath, pinching herself to make sure
this wasn’t still a dream. She leaned forward for a closer look at a picture of
Jason holding hands with a long-legged blonde beauty in a short, tight leather skirt.

“Ah, Jennifer,
isn’t it?” She started to glance over her shoulder but jumped when she
discovered Jason standing right behind her. “Whoa, how long have you been
standing here?”

“Long enough. I
love looking at all these old pictures. Mom is so good about keeping up with
all our stuff. And to answer your question, it just didn’t work out.”

“What didn’t work
out?”

“With Jennifer.
You’d have liked her. She’s terrific. We had a lot of good times together. I’m
telling you, she’s crazy. You wouldn’t believe the pranks she used to pull on
us.”

Hannah noticed a
far off look on his face and decided to leave it alone.

He inhaled deeply.
“But, y’know what? Sometimes these things just aren’t meant to be. She was
ready to settle down and start a family and I wasn’t. I mean, the way I see it,
I’ve got to ride this train as long as I can. Or at least until I know it’s
time to get off. We’re still friends and we occasionally keep in touch. She’s
engaged to an attorney in Nashville. Nice guy. I’m happy for her.”

“No regrets?”
Hannah turned back to the gallery.

“No regrets. A
hard lesson to learn, but I knew in my heart it wasn’t meant to be. Believe it
or not—and you may have trouble understanding this coming from me—but I really
try to keep tuned in to what God wants me to do with my life.”

She turned to question
his statement, lifting a brow.

He returned the
suspicious expression then headed back to the pool table. “I know—kinda weird,
huh? The thing is, I’m not a freak about my relationship with God or anything,
but it’s definitely important to me. More than anyone knows.”

He picked up the
eight ball, tossing it gently from one hand to the other. “There just came a
time when I knew deep down it wasn’t gonna work out with Jennifer. I fought it,
but I knew it wasn’t right. And I think that’s why I have no hard feelings or
regrets.” His tone changed. “So I said to her, I said, “Jennifer?
‘If you’re
really gonna leave me, just do it and go, ‘cause I ain’t gonna cry, I’ll just
get on with the show! ’”

“You’ve got to be
kidding. I had no idea that song was so personal!”

He was laughing
again. “Yeah, well, it makes for easy lyrics. What can I say?” He made a silly
face, as if he’d been found out. “But wanna know the truth? I still feel like a
little kid living this dream life. I’m having way too much fun. One of these
days, I’ll know it’s time to walk away from it and . . . I
don’t know, just grow up? But I’m in no hurry. Now c’mon, let’s play some pool
here. What’s your wager?”

Hannah walked over
to the opposite wall, selected a cue stick and chalked it. “I don’t know. What
did you have in mind?”

“If I win, you
hang out with me for a few days.”

WHAT!
He
might as well have karate-kicked her in the gut—the air sucked right out of her
lungs. For a second, she thought she’d faint right there on the pool table.
He’s
known me a total of two hours and now he’s ready to spend a few days with me?
Jason McKenzie wants to hang out with
ME?! She tried to hide her shock,
turning her back to avoid his probing eyes, continuing to chalk the cue stick.

Remnants of Laura’s
warning bounced around in her head like an echo chamber . . .
heartbreaker,
heartbreaker, heartbreaker . . .
She kept her back to him to
buy more time, taking a deep breath and a hard swallow to stop the tornado in
her head. She kept moving, hoping he’d think she was just getting ready for
their game of pool.

Think, Hannah,
think! These guys can have any girl they want, anywhere, anytime. Women throw
their panties at them on stage, for crying out loud! Which means Jason is just
coming on to you because that’s what he’s used to. It isn’t
you.
It’s
the whole adoring fan thing. He
expects
you to drool over the chance to
hang out with him. Don’t do it! Don’t you dare! You’re not some adolescent groupie!
Just turn around, hold your head high, and show him what you’re made of!

Hannah turned
slowly, still chalking the cue in a grand attempt at nonchalance. “Let me get
this straight. If you win, I spend some time with you over the next couple of
days.”

“I think a week
would be more suitable.”

“A week.”

Not a couple
days. A week. He wants a week.

He made his way
toward her side of the table, touching her elbow gently to move past her. She
inhaled the musky scent of his cologne. He was humming. He started to dance
with his cue stick. Over-animated, suave moves that made her laugh out loud. And
it felt
so
good to laugh. She felt muscles relax, easing the tension.

Then again . . .

The battle in her
mind continued.
He
is
genuinely nice. He’s polite. He comes from a
good home. I mean, the guy loves his mother!
She felt her head nodding in
rhythm to the debate ping-ponging in her head.  
And let’s face it. He
is
flirting with you. How long has it been since anyone other than Ed, the dinosaur
janitor, flirted with you? Huh?

“So is it a deal?”
he sang, turning to lunge his cue-stick dance partner in a dramatic dip.

Be cool.
Unimpressed.
“I was expecting something like doing your laundry or giving you
a foot massage.”

“Ooooh, now that
could be nice—”

“In your dreams,
McKenzie.”
That’s it, that’s it. Nice and cool . . .
“I’m
pretty good at pool. I’ll take the bet. But let’s see—how about if
I
win, you sing me a song. An original song that you make up, right here, right
now. All by yourself. No fancy equipment. Just you and your guitar. Let me see
just how good a musician you really are.”

“Piece of cake.
With the addendum that if I lose, we play double or nothing for a second
chance.”

“You’re on. Break
’em.”

“Stand back, girl.
You’re about to witness poetry in motion.” His tone changed. He became the
announcer. “The master takes his stance. He carefully stretches across the edge
of the table, positioning every muscle for optimum effort . . . he
draws back . . . and in a single, fluid motion—”

“He misses the
ball by a mile!” she shouted. “Way to go, Jason. Oh, this is gonna be way too
much fun. Move over, Beethoven. Let me show you what ‘poetry in motion’
really
looks like!”

“That was
beautiful, Jason.”

He set the acoustic guitar
back into its case. “You’re just saying that. You’re mocking me ’cause you beat
the snot out of me over there.”

“No, I’m not. Of
course, it’s not a spontaneous original, so you still owe me. And probably big
time, since you tried to cheat me with a Jason classic. But I’ve always loved
that song. Why didn’t you guys ever release it as a single?”

“How do you
know
that song?” He noticed the blush creeping across her face again and
realized how much he enjoyed such innocence. Such a refreshing change.

“You played it on
your first televised Fox Family concert.”

“You’re right—I’d
forgotten all about that. We never released it because I was the only one who
liked it. The guys gave me so much grief about it. But it was one of the first
songs I wrote, and it still means a lot to me. So I’m glad you liked it. Even
if it wasn’t
spontaneous
.” He rolled his eyes. “Oh well, at least I know
there’s two of us on the planet who like it. Which tells me something else
about you.”

“And what would
that be?”