by Nicole James
“With your fist?”
“It worked.” He ran a hand down his face. “Look, I shouldn’t have done it, but it was the quickest way—”
“To mark your territory. Right.”
“I told you men talk to each other in very clear terms.”
“Can’t get much clearer than a fist to the face.”
“That’s right.”
“I don’t like violence.”
“I don’t either, but that’s my baby inside you. It was a special circumstance.”
“Don’t do it again.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll try.”
“Don’t try. Do.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
She took a spoonful of yogurt, ignoring him.
“I like this side of you.”
Her eyes cut to him. Was he being funny? Then he winked at her and set her tea down.
He made himself a coffee and sat next to her. “So, I’ve got a decision to make, and I need your help.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve been offered a choice. I either go on Charlotte Justice’s European leg of her tour as her opening act, or they’ve offered me my own American tour. Another artist had to cancel, and I can have his dates.”
“Wow. That’s some offer.”
“It’s a big opportunity—my own tour—and I’d be close for you and the baby.”
“But?”
He shrugged and let out a huff of laughter. “Not sure I’m ready for it.”
“Do you like to be on stage? Do you have stage fright or something?”
“That’s the only part of touring I do like.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“There’s a big difference between being the opening act and being the headliner. The tour flops, it’s all on me.”
“Why would the tour flop?”
He shrugged. “I’d have to come up with an entire show full of songs. Now I just play thirty or forty minutes.”
“Do you have the material?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He tapped his thumb on the counter, staring off in space.
“Rory?”
He looked up at her.
“Then do the European tour. I’ll be fine. Is that what you want—my permission to go?”
“No, not at all. I thought maybe you could come with me.”
“To Europe?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“So you’d pass on the American tour? You really want to do that?”
“I don’t know.” He ran a hand over his beard, stood, and began pacing.
“Rory, you didn’t get into music to be an opening act for someone else, did you?”
“No.”
“Then there’s your answer.”
“If I go on tour in America, will you come with me?”
She pulled back. “I—I don’t know, Rory. I’d be on the tour bus with you?”
“Yes.”
“And sit backstage and watch you play?”
“Yes. I want you with me.”
“Rory, I love that you want me with you, but I have a business to run. I can’t just drop everything and take off. I mean, sure, for a week or two, but not months on end.”
He braced his hands on the island. “I forgot about the shop. Damn.”
“You should still go do the tour. Do you know what the scheduled dates are?”
“No. I need to call my manager and give him my decision. I guess I’ll find out the details then.”
“Maybe you should do that now.”
He nodded. “I’ll go call him.” He kissed her head. “Eat your yogurt. I’ll be back.”
She watched him walk out. So, if he was going on tour, she couldn’t depend on him being around for her or the baby. She supposed that meant she was back where she started. She looked around the condo. She also supposed if Rory wasn’t around, she would no longer be staying here. Well, it was nice while it lasted, but she always knew this kind of life was too good to be true.
Maybe Rory would at least step up with some bills, and she wouldn’t have to be so tight with her grocery money and other things.
She finished the yogurt, ate the protein bar, and sipped the tea. When she was finished, Rory still wasn’t back, so she wandered out to the big balcony off the living area and sat on the couch by the fireplace. The view was really incredible, the Front Range stretching in both directions as far as the eye could see.
She enjoyed the peacefulness of it, breathing deeply. It really was quite calming to just stare at that view. She could get used to having tea out here every morning.
Rory walked outside and sat next to her, patting her knee. “Did you eat?”
“Every bite.”
“Good girl.”
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“All right, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“He sent me the schedule.” Rory pulled it up on his phone and showed it to her. There were dates starting next month and lasting until after the baby’s due date.
“Oh.”
His eyes met hers. “I know I’ll be gone a lot, but there are several times when I’ll have three days between gigs. I’ll fly back every chance I get, Rayne.”
She looked down at her lap and pulled at an imaginary thread, wondering why she suddenly felt so sad. At first when he’d never called her, she’d been hurt, then she’d been mad, and when he’d shown up and pushed his way into her life she’d sort of been relieved, if she were being honest.
Last night, for the first time in a long time, she’d felt like all the worry and stress had been lifted off her shoulders, and she could actually breathe. Now she suddenly wondered if she was going to be abandoned all over again. He was making a lot of promises, but would he keep them?
“Baby, look at me.”
Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze. He searched her eyes, and she hated that he could easily read the sadness there.
“I promise, I’ll fly back every chance I get.”
“Sure.”
“I mean it, Rayne. I want to be here for you and the baby. But I also need to make money. To do that, I’ve got to go out on this tour. If I don’t—”
“Sure, I understand.”
“You look like you don’t believe me.”
“To be honest, I don’t know if I can believe you. I guess that remains to be seen.”
“I’ll have to prove it to you, you mean.”
“I guess I do.”
“Okay. Then I will.” He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of her knuckles. “We’ve got some time. I don’t need to be in LA for rehearsals until the end of the week.”
“That soon?”
“Yeah. I’ve got to work up the show. I’m not at all ready.”
“I understand.”
“When’s your next doctor’s appointment?”
“The twentieth.”
“Oh.”
“You won’t be here.”
“No,” he answered quietly. “But you’ll have your girl squad, right?”
Her eyes stung with tears, and she looked away, not wanting him to see.
“Right?” he repeated.
Her throat closed up, and all she could do was shake her head. She felt the tears overflow, and she put her face in her hands as the silent sobs she couldn’t hold back overwhelmed her.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Rory scooted closer and put his arm around her. She leaned into him, letting him hold her. His palm rubbed up and down her back. “Rayne, tell me what’s wrong.”
She buried her face in his neck and wiped her cheeks. “I’m not speaking to them.”
“Who? Your girls?” He pulled back to look in her face. “Why?”
“I told them to get out last night.”
“Why?”
“Sasha told me she was the one who gave the media my story.”
“Wait, what?
She told them you were pregnant with my baby?”
Rayne nodded. “Yes. She said she sold it to them for a thousand dollars. She did it to get me the money because she knew I needed it.”
“Did you? Need the money, I mean?”
“I suppose so, but look what she did to me? Now I’m hiding out.”
“Your girls have been there for you and gotten you through some very hard times, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. So, Sasha made a mistake, a huge one, but maybe her heart was in the right place. She was trying to get you some money, and I think more importantly—my attention on you. It worked; I’m here. I was going to find you; she just made it easier. I think you should let it go and make up with your friends. You’re going to need them, especially now with the baby coming and me not always able to be here.”
“I suppose.”
“But?”
“It wasn’t right.”
“I’m glad you weren’t in on it.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you.”
He brushed his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the wetness. “So, I never asked. What are we having?”
She frowned. “Having?”
“A boy or a girl?”
She bit her lip. “What do you want it to be?”
“What do you want it to be?”
She grinned. “It’s a girl.”
“Awesome. She’ll have lots of little girl cousins to play with.”
“So, I’ve heard.”
“Who told you?”
“Max.”
Rory nodded. “So have you picked out a name for our daughter?”
“Actually, I’d like to call her Danielle, for my brother. If that’s okay with you.”
“Danielle. It’s pretty. We can call her Danny.”
“Not if you want to live to tell about it.” She arched a brow.
He chuckled. “Message received. Can I touch her?” He held his palm a few inches above her tummy. She pulled it to rest on her baby bump. He stared down at his hand. “I can’t believe there’s a little life in there. This is sort of surreal, isn’t it?”
She nodded, biting her lip again.
He met her eyes. “Can I pick the middle name?”
“I guess that’s only fair.”
“I’d like to name her after my mother, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.”
“Everyone called her Betsy, but her given name was Elizabeth.”
“Danielle Elizabeth,” she tried the name out on her tongue. “I like it.”
“Danielle Elizabeth O’Rourke,” he corrected.
Her eyes dropped. “I suppose you would want her to have your last name.”
“It’s customary.”
“It’s just…”
He lifted her chin up. “It’s just what?”
“She and I would have different last names.”
He swallowed. “Maybe not.”
She felt her stomach drop. Getting up, she moved to the railing, her legs carrying her quickly. A cold shiver moved over her body, and suddenly Rory was at her side.
“Rayne, are you okay?”
She looked out over the view. “I’m fine.”
“Then why are you clutching that railing so hard your knuckles are white?”
She hadn’t realized she was. “Oh. Um, because I—”
“I thought you were afraid of heights.”
“I am.”
“Does the thought of having my last name scare you that badly?”
“Yes… No… I mean… It’s just all… happening so fast.”
He nodded. “I guess it is.”
“I’m a proud person, Rory. You should know that about me.”
“Okay.”
“And stubborn.”
“What are you trying to tell me, Rayne?”
“I may not be rolling in money, but I’m not the kind of person to chase after someone just to…”
“To what?”
“I didn’t get pregnant on purpose.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“And I’m not after your money.”
“I didn’t say you were. Where is this all coming from?”
She looked away and lifted her chin. “I overheard your brother talking to you. I was on my balcony and you were—”
“On Jameson’s balcony,” he finished for her.
“He warned you I might be after your money.”
“Doesn’t mean he thinks that. He’s just being protective.”
“He looked at me funny at dinner, too.”
“He did?”
“Well, not at dinner, afterward when we were out here and you brought me that hot cocoa.”
Rory frowned.
“I said I could get used to this, and he gave me a look, you know, like that’s what I was after.” She waved her hand at the condo. “All of this and your money.”
“Don’t worry about it. Our relationship—yours and mine—is just that. It’s ours. It’s nobody else’s business. It’s true we don’t know each other well, but I aim to change that. Don’t let anything anyone else tells you color what we have, okay?”
“You make it sound so easy. It’s not. It’s hard to hear people who don’t even know me suggest that I may have ulterior motives. How am I supposed to defend myself against talk like that?”
“You know the truth. So, you just let it slide right off your back. Others’ opinions are not important. It’s what you think of yourself that counts, right?”
She didn’t reply.
He took her hand and laced her fingers through his. “Remember that night in Vail? How we were? We talked and laughed and opened up to each other about things I don’t think we’d ever talked about with other people. I want to get us back to that place—where we felt close, where it felt right.”
She squeezed his hand. “It was good. That night.”
“It was. Tell me it can be again.”
She met his eyes. “I hope so.”
He pulled her to the couch by the fire and cuddled her close. “Talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling.”
“Tired. I’ve been tired a lot lately. I guess that’s normal.”
“I want to do whatever I can to make this easier on you. Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask, okay?”
“Okay.”
He tilted her head back with a finger under her chin, and his mouth came down on hers. She melted, her head dropping back farther and giving him access. It had been a long time since she’d felt attractive or desired like he’d made her feel in just the last twenty-four hours. She let herself enjoy it.
His mouth kissed its way to her ear, and he whispered, “Did you think about me when you lay in bed last night?”
She nodded, unable to lie.
“I thought about you, too. I’ve thought about you a lot in the last six months. You have no idea how much.”
Her arms stole around his neck as desire swamped over her. Desire and need.
He pulled her onto his lap, gave her a long, lingering kiss, and whispered against her mouth, “I want you. Do you want me, Rayne?”
She nodded.
He didn’t waste a moment in carrying her inside and to the bedroom. He laid her on the bed, following her down. He moved to her side and ran a hand over her body and slipped underneath her shirt to rest his big warm palm on her baby bump.
“Is it okay for us to fool around?”
“It’s fine.”
He pushed her shirt up, revealing her bra, then dipped his head and kissed her belly, working his way to her breasts. He paused to pull her shirt over her head and then slipped his hand under her back, flicked her bra clasp open and pulled it down her arms.
He caressed his way across her pale flesh, lifting her hair away from her breast so he could see them. She shuddered at the heat in his eyes.
“Still as pretty as I remember. I’m hungry for a taste of those pert little nipples that have haunted my dreams for so fucking long.”
He pressed his lips to one, then the other. They were so sensitive these days that she moaned with just that barely-there touch.
He lifted his head to search her eyes, then his mouth descended again, closing around one of her nipples. He wasn’t teasing. There was no toying in this touch. It was all fierce intent.
He transferred his attention to her other nipple, slipping his fist into her hair, and pulled her head back which made her arch her breasts up into his waiting mouth. He toyed with the tip of her nipple until she was writhing to get closer to him.
“Are these nipples hard for me?” he demanded, waiting patiently for her answer.
“Yes, for you, only you,” she whispered and strained to rub them against his mouth. She writhed and wriggled against his cock. “I want you.”
He stripped her clothes, then stood and discarded his own. She lay there exposed and watched him, her desire growing with every piece of clothing that hit the floor. God, his body was perfection—muscled, tattooed, and hard with need for her.
He finally settled next to her, his hand stroking over her skin, her breasts, her baby bump, her hips and thighs. He lit her on fire with his gentle stroking touch until she could take it no more. She grabbed his wrist and drew his hand to her pussy.
“Please,” she heard herself beg. “I need it. I need you.”
He pushed her thighs further apart and then his fingers stroked her, dipping inside to draw her arousal and coat her with it. He made small circles around her clit and she moaned. He kept at her, stroking over and over until she was drenched, then he slid his fingers inside deep in one thrust, and she lifted off the mattress, her hips straining up to meet his strokes. He found that little trigger buried deep inside and he pressed and stimulated it until she thrashed against him, begging for more.
His used his thumb to brush across her clit slowly, repeatedly. Her nipples drew into tight little beads of sensation as she tensed and clenched her fists into the bedspread.
“Oh, Rory!” she gasped his name. Her back arched, and she cried out in a long, wrenching climax.
Before she came down, he’d positioned himself with his knees between her thighs, spreading her wide. He grabbed her hips and angled her and prepared to thrust inside her. With a roar, he sank into her deep, as far as he could go, and she moaned.
Rory growled, lifted her hips, and ground her sensitive clit against the base of his cock. She threw back her head and a cascade of pale lavender hair fell around her on the mattress.
