How Beauty Saved the Beast (Tales of the Underlight) (9 page)

Despite the fact that she’d had a hard time keeping her lips off one of them today.

Travis propped a knee up and relaxed into the chair, his surfer-boy calm back in full force. “You’re really jaded sometimes, you know? You realize that I do like you as a person, right? I may tease you sometimes, call you Penthouse Princess when you say something about money, because you have no concept of money.” He leaned forward. “You also know that, right?”

She cocked her head. “Your point?”

He took his time settling back into the overstuffed seat. “My point is, you’re gorgeous. Quite possibly the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met.”

She rolled her eyes, but he kept talking.

“You’re also stupid-rich and well-connected. I’d wager you’ve spent your life fending off men who want you for all the wrong reasons.”

Despite her desire to stay strong, Jolie’s pose deflated. He had no idea how right he was. It sucked to be wanted not for herself, but for access to her father. Men could spin so many enticing lies about love when they wanted something entirely more worldly.

“But Jolie, that doesn’t mean all of us want you for the wrong reasons.” He shrugged. “Some of us? We just think you’re really cool.”

She ducked her head, embarrassed. Was her insecurity that transparent? Travis was right. She
was
being unfair. He and Hauk were a different breed than the men she was used to. They both had a straightforward honesty she liked but hadn’t yet figured out how to deal with.

“Aw, look. She’s blushing. If it helps, I’ll admit we also think your tight ass is really hot and would like to date that, too.”

Jolie didn’t try to hide her blush or laughter. “Shut the fuck up.” In two strides she was back to him. She squeezed her fingers into his dishwater-blond curls and kissed the top of his head. “Thanks. You’re pretty cool yourself.” She released him and tapped a purple-painted fingernail on his nose. “But you and I? We’re still just friends.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get going. I’ve got hours of lover-boy here to watch.”

Jolie called back a “Whatever!” as she headed around the stacks

* * *

“Where have you been? You have to change!” Catrina threw a new costume at Jolie as soon as she stepped into the dressing room.

Jolie caught it, confused. But she unzipped the jogging suit that covered the ridiculous skin-tight sparkles she hadn’t had a chance to peel off yet. “Why? Spork’s going to win the closer.” The audience was just now voting on an act to come back out and finish the night, and Spork’s popularity made them a shoo-in. She hadn’t worried too much about getting back because nobody expected Pussy Will-Oh! to perform a second time.

Catrina snorted. “Of course they are. Audience votes aren’t about talent. But that singer, Paul What’s-his-cheeks, asked for you to dance. And dance you shall. The audience lo Ce ait, cved that little move of yours where you took out the loudmouth. Spork plus you ending the rally will send everyone out in a mood to donate more money. God knows marriage equality needs all the funds it can raise in Texas.”

Jolie pushed down the jogging pants with a laugh. “Okay.” The other costume was more comfortable anyway—daisy dukes and a lipstick-red bra top. She was tired of wearing fake crystals. “Have you seen Hauk? I need to talk to him really fast.” And tell him about the videos. He had a right to know.

He was probably with Ashley, though. The thought made her wrinkle her nose.

She shucked the old outfit and slid on the new. Maybe seeing Hauk and Ashley together would be a good thing. She hadn’t been able to observe the way they interacted since the first introduction, and that was obviously an emotional moment. Maybe with some time to analyze, she could form a better opinion of what was going on between them. If any of her old high-school boyfriends had shown up out of the blue, it wasn’t like she’d start dating them again. Those had all ended in the typical histrionics of a teenage relationship, and she’d changed a lot since eighteen.

Hauk had probably changed a lot, too. Though she got the impression Hauk and Saint Ashley had had more than a typical high-school affair.

Not that it
should
matter to Jolie what was going on between Hauk and any other woman, but clearly it did. It surprised her how much so. Her earlier exit with the kiss and the one-liner? She was so rarely motivated by jealousy, she hadn’t recognized that ugly emotion when it had her in its teeth.

Now that she’d had some time to think about it, she’d realized the problem. Hauk had wanted Ashley to take care of him and not her. He hadn’t seen Ashley in years, and Jolie had just had his back in a fight. But Ashley was the one he wanted around. Ergo, jealousy.

Sure, he’d responded to their kisses. Even this morning before backing out, he’d seemed really into it. That didn’t necessarily mean anything, though. It was possible Hauk’s control had just slipped. As Catrina pointed out, the poor man hadn’t gotten any for nearly five years. His body would be happy with any decent-looking girl willing to curl up next to him. But his brain, and more importantly his heart, would want more than a pretty face.

New costume on, Jolie checked herself out in the mirror and ran fingers through her hair to smooth it back into place.

She had a pretty face, but she was more than just that. She could prove it to him. “I’m heading out to the loading dock. I’ll be back.”

Catrina looked appalled. “What? No. You have to perform in less than five minutes.”

“Okay, so I’ll be back in four.” Jolie ran out the door as fast as her high heels would take her. She felt bad about Catrina, but she had to talk to Hauk.

They weren’t on the couches at the loading dock. But Mercedes Salvador, the only member of the troupe who was also in The Underlight, was leaning on the railing talking to Cassie, one of their regular backstage techs.

“Mercy! You seen Hauk?”

She turned, startled. “Oh, hey, Jolie. He and some blond chick went in to watch the shows a while back. I don’t know where to.” She scrunched her face, curious. “They acted pretty tight, but I’ve never seen her before. You know who she was?”

Jolie groaned in frustration. “Cincy import. She and Hauk go waaay back.”

Mercy laughed. “And here I thought you two were a done—”

Jolie put a finger against her friend’s lips. “Don’t. Say. It. I’ve gotten the memo. From everyone. But I need to talk to Hauk.”

Mercy’s eyes danced.

“Not about Saint Ashley.”

“Saint Ashley? Me-ow.”

Jolie ignored her. “About something else.
Work
-related.” Word on the street was Cassie was applying to get into The Underlight, but she wasn’t sure where in the process the girl was. Mercy would know what she was talking about, though.

“Oh!” Mercy straightened up to all business. “He wasn’t looking too healthy when they walked out. Limping a little. I doubt he’ll go back to his normal spot. Maybe they just went to the back of the room? There are a lot of shadowy alcoves back there.”

“Thanks.” Jolie hurried back into the building. Without Hauk to part the seas for her, there was no way she would make it through the crowd and back to the stage in time to perform. But she could take the second-story ledge and drop in behind them.

It only took a few seconds to make her way to the back where, sure enough, she found the world’s most mis-sized couple sitting in the shadows on folding chairs. She climbed down a ladder near them.

Hauk had propped himself up against a wall. Ashley leaned against his shoulder, a tired expression on her face. But they were still talking. Hauk laughed at something she said, and Ashley beamed proudly. They were so engaged with each they didn’t notice Jolie approach,

Ashley’s was the first voice that came in clearly. Jolie dragged her feet, listening.

“I’ll never forget the way you looked in that pressed uniform, standing in formation with all the other soldiers. Gosh, we were eighteen. Seems like forever ago.”

Hauk lightly punched her shoulder, his grin wide. “I’ll never forget the night before. Wasn’t expecting that.”

Ashley blushed a bright pink. “I was afraid I’d never see you again!”

He laughed low, a sound that always made Jolie’s spine tingle. Ashley reached up and stroked his shoulder. Apparently she wasn’t immune to it either. They relaxed together so naturally. Like they’d fallen right back into a decade ago with ease.

Jolie realized she should go. This wasn’t her business.

Then Hauk said, “I didn’t think you’d show to my deployment after what you said when you gave me the ring back.”

The air collapsed from Jolie’s lungs, and she couldn’t seem to take any more in. Surely he didn’t mean
that
kind of ring. Right?

Ashley turned in to Hauk. Her next words came out choked, as if she was holding back tears. “I didn’t think I could handle being an Army wife.”

Oh
shit
,
he
did
mean
that
kind
of
ring
.

“But I still loved you. I’m sorry, Wesley. I’m so very sorry.”

Oh
.
God
. Everything inside Jolie seemed to disappear, leaving her utterly empty.

Ha C sii>God
her
husband
was overseas getting shot at by the Taliban.

Dammit, that was totally legitimate.

And no longer a problem for them.

The audience cheered, and Jolie turned her attention to the stage, where Catrina was walking up to the mic.

Shit, she was going to be late. She ran back to the ladder to get her ass on stage.

* * *

Hauk squeezed his ex, embarrassed at how good it felt to hear her apologize. He’d never made any bones about what he planned to do after graduation, but she hadn’t told him how she felt about it until after he’d come home with his enlistment papers. He’d spent his first year of service wondering if she’d have married him if he’d gone into the police force or fire department or some other job where he could stay in Cincinnati.

But he hadn’t wanted to stay in Cincy. And he’d been a damn good soldier.

He squeezed her shoulders. “Hey, ancient history, okay? Army wife’s a suck job. I don’t blame you for not wanting it.” Or he didn’t fault her anymore, anyway. And that was what mattered now.

Catrina announced Spork would return as the final act of the night. Of course pretty-boy’s band was playing. The screaming young things wanted emo music and the gay men wanted to watch him shake his ass again.

Pretty-boy knew how to play to his audience, Hauk would give him that.

“Why are they hauling a pole onto the stage?” Ashley asked. The notion of seeing the band again perked her tired face right back up.

He poked her in the ribs. “Not you, too.”

She glanced back at him from where she leaned against his shoulder then did that blinking double-take that happened every time she forgot what he looked like now. She tried so hard to hide it. Eventually that startled reaction would go away when she’d fully accept his new face. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

Jolie had never flinched. Not even from the beginning.

“Me too, what?” Ashley asked.

Hauk waved a dismissal. “Nothing.”

On the stage just left of center, the techs were stabilizing what appeared to be a pole-dancing apparatus on an elevated circular platform. Spork was coming back on, but Catrina hadn’t left the mic.

Her announcement continued, “At the behest of Spork—” The crowd screamed at the stupid name, and Catrina gave them a moment to revel. She crooked her finger at Paul, who obliged by coming forward to let Catrina squeeze on his bicep.

Stage ham. Hauk thought about puking.

Catrina tried again. “At the behest of these lovely, lovely men—” More cheering as Paul waggled his eyebrows. “—we’ll have dancing for their final song.”

Hauk sat up a little straighter. Maybe the last act would have something entertaining in it.

Catrina laughed throatily. “Jolie, are you around?”

If he didn’t know Catrina so well, Hauk would have missed the irritation in her tone. Did Jolie even know she was performing aga Cerfe tried soin, or was she still in The Underlight?

A throat cleared on the other side of the stage. Jolie’s legs appeared from the rafters, hooked on to the pole, and she slid down into sight. “You could say I’ve been…hanging around.”

Catrina’s tension dropped back to her normal level of mania.

Paul grinned.

The audience, likely remembering her from earlier, went even a little crazier.

“Is she pole dancing?” Ashley asked, all trace of sympathy gone. “Wes, sweetie, I’m trying to go with the flow here, but the girl you want to date is a stripping pole dancer? Have you really thought about this?”

He shrugged. “It’s not like she works at The Yellow Rose.”