Nashville SEAL: Jameson: Nashville SEALs by Sharon Hamilton

after Jameson’s departure. The winery deal seemed even more solid than before. Jameson was put in charge, as a non-paid consultant, of the tasting room hall sound system, working by email with a local architect they’d contracted for a share of the winery. They designed a large room with glass doors that accordioned open, so for summer night venues a group could not only play to the audience indoors but those sitting outdoors on blankets. The venue excited him so much that he even began picking at his guitar again, and he began writing a couple new songs that just poured out of him.
    The nights, after Charlotte was bathed, kissed and tucked in, were magic with Lizzie. Knowing they had limited time until his departure, they made every night count. His body caught fire whenever she touched him. Once or twice he caught her crying but pretended not to notice. He loved her for her missing him even before he left.
    With a week to go, he got a call from Thomas.
    “Jameson. I caught a break. I’ve been wined and dined, and I’m signing a record deal tomorrow.”
    “That’s bad luck to talk about it before the ink’s dry.”
    “Nah. I don’t believe any of that.”
    Jameson heard laughter in the background and an announcer calling out. “Where are you?”
    “I’m at the Halfway. You wouldn’t believe what kind of luck I’m having these days, Jameson. Your kind of luck!”
    “Well, I never had that kind of luck. You’re the one with the record deal, or almost a record deal, that is.”
    “No, hell with the record, the ladies. They’re all over me. A lot has changed in the two months since I’ve seen you.”
    Jameson thought about what it was like, in what seemed like years ago. The gentle knock at the door, and, after checking them out through the peephole, it was either, “Honey, I’m just dead tired tonight. Maybe another time?” or, “Come on in,” if they were fine. He shuddered to think about all of the faceless bodies he’d bedded, the daughters he’d turned down to be their first time by mothers who wanted their first to be an experienced, loving man. Even that justification didn’t work with him. He thought about the divorced, lonely women he used to think he brought pleasure to. The husbands who actually offered to pay him to pleasure their wives in a way they could no longer do or in ways they never had—because they loved them. It was a crazy time in his life.
    And it had robbed him, or nearly robbed him, of his soul.
    After his few days with Lizzie at her parent’s horse farm, he was forever looking for her in crowds. Hers was the face he wanted to see again. And without Charlotte’s help, he probably never would have. Would still be bedding ladies, sometimes more than one, every night.
    So, good for Thomas. His older sidekick had stood idly by while Jameson had all the “fun.” Except it wasn’t fun. None of it was really fun after he realized what he was giving up. His desire to please, to entertain, to be the big star they thought they were making love to, the need to stroke an insecure young man’s ego bent his antennae to the source of magic and power of his soul. But all that got him to where he was today, and for that he was grateful.
    “Jameson, you listening?”
    “Yea, Thomas. I’m happy for you, man.”
    “So you gotta come out here. We’re having a big pre-launch party at the Halfway tonight but Friday, we got a spot at the fuckin’ Starwood Arena, Jameson.”
    “Holy cow.”
    “Brings back memories. You opened for Garth a few years ago, remember?”
    “Hard to forget that one. Well, good for you.”
    “I’m opening for Sonny Brown. That new kid from Calgary. They said I could bring you. Hell, they said they wanted to see you, man! You gotta be here. I owe it all to you.”
    “No can do, Thomas. I’m leaving in a week for who knows where.” He knew, but he couldn’t let on.
    “A week? Then you can come out this weekend, right? Like I said, concert’s Friday