I finally have the opportunity to right all the wrongs. I won’t screw this up. I can’t. I’ve got to move fast, quite literally.
When I turn into the subdivision, I jab my first two fingers on the buttons, lowering the glass on the driver and passenger-side windows. Then I twist the knob, cranking the sound up as loud as it will go just as I round the last curve leading to the cottage-style house Nya and I picked out together not long after discovering she was pregnant. The little house is situated on half an acre in a quiet town just south of Vegas, called Clairmont. “Mama, I’m Coming Home” by Ozzy Osbourne blasts through the speakers as I pull up to the curb, shifting the U-Haul into park. Nothin’ like a little mood music to set the tone.
Here goes… I pull in a deep breath before resting an elbow on the horn, smiling to myself as I anxiously await the epic tantrum I know is coming. Three, two—
“Daddy!” Ellie shouts, running through the front door in a pair of pink footy pajamas, her raven hair a tangled mess. She looks so small and not at all like the preteen drama queen she’s quickly becoming. “What are you doing here?”
Before I can answer, my heart’s in my throat at the sound of her mother’s voice approaching behind her.
“Yeah, Liam. What are you doing here?” the love of my life grits through clenched teeth. Unlike our daughter, her long dark hair is sleek and shiny. Her copper toned skin is free of any makeup save for a light shimmer accentuating her pouty lips. I lick my own instinctively as I take in the skin-tight jeans that cling to her perfectly round ass like a glove.
With a shrug, I climb down, pretending not to notice the fire blazing in her eyes as I approach her and our daughter. “Listen.” I cup a hand over my right ear, belting out the chorus. I won’t even lie—I’m thoroughly enjoying the horrified look on her face.
“Oh, no. No, Liam. This is not happening.” She plants a hand on her cocked hip, eyes narrowed my direction. Lord, I love getting her all riled up like this. The flush in her cheeks and the frustrated breath she blows up toward her hair only spur me on.
“What’s not happening?” Ellie asks, confusion marring her pretty face. So, Nya hasn’t even told her yet. This is turning out to be even more fun than I thought.
“Oh, it’s happening,” I assure Nya, my eyes briefly connecting with hers before turning to face our little girl. “Remember your wish?”
“Uhh…” she stammers, chewing her lower lip as she waffles between her mother and me. “Yeah?”
I think back to two nights ago. Her eleventh birthday. The day our daughter unknowingly delivered the second chance I’ve been searching for.
“Make a wish, Ellie,” Nya urges. My chest tightens when she latches onto my arm as she gazes adoringly at our little girl pursing her lips to blow out eleven pink, sparkly candles.
Don’t get me wrong, we have a great relationship as far as divorced couples go, but she’s not usually so touchy-feely with me. Especially not since Ryder came into the picture. So I can’t help but allow myself to revel in the moment.
“I know what I’m gonna wish for,” Ellie says, looking fondly at her mother and me.
Guilt swirls in my chest, because I already know her wish won’t come true. I fucked up any chance of that years ago.
“Don’t say it,” Hannah, Nya’s best friend, orders, worry creasing her brow. “Or it won’t come true.” Good old Hannah. Always trying to put out fires before they start.
“It won’t anyway,” Ellie pouts, looking just like the toddler I like to pretend she still is, before she catches a wave of prepubescence and gives her Auntie an eye roll to rival that pale chick from The Exorcist.
“What?” Nya’s face jerks back in surprise. “How do you know that?” She runs a hand through our daughter’s long dark hair, the same shade as hers, and leans over her shoulder, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Cuz. I wish for the same thing every single year, and it never happens.”
“Oh.” My clueless ex-wife’s face falls. “Well, maybe just this one time, you can tell us, and we can help to make it come true?” Her big doe eyes find mine, brimming with concern for her little princess. She nods to me for approval, which I swiftly provide. Far be it from me to be the one to stop this train wreck.
“Don’t make promis—” Hannah starts to warn her best friend off before my eyes catch hers and I shake my head. She clears her throat, holding her hands up in resignation. “Go ‘head, El.”
“Okay…” Ellie starts, nibbling her thumb nail nervously as she fixes her stare on the tile floor. “I wished for you and Daddy to get married and for us to be a real family… like we were when I was a baby.”
Nya’s legs buckle, so I hold her a little tighter. For stability, of course. “Th—that’s your w—wish?”
“It’s stupid,” Ellie mutters, crossing her arms protectively over her heart. “That’s why I didn’t wanna say it.”
“It’s not stupid,” I assure her, my stomach twisting up into a huge knot. I don’t miss the pained look on Nya’s speechless face as I release my hold on her and our daughter lunges herself into my arms, sniffling into the crook of my neck.
“N-not all families look the same, Ellie,” my ex explains while rubbing circles on her back. “We’re still a family even if we don’t all live in the same house.”
My daughter stiffens at her words, schooling her features. “I know, Mom, but it’s not the same.”
Nya has worked really hard to make sure Ellie has been raised with two parents. Her guilt over being the one to initiate our divorce has always eaten at her. As hard as it is to be around Nya. To want her and never be able to act on it. To sit at the same fucking table with her and now her new boyfriend, Ryder. I’m here every holiday. Every birthday. Hell, every Sunday for family dinner. It’s as close to a two-parent home as we could give her without actually being together, but Ellie’s right, it’s not the same thing. Nowhere near it.
“Sometimes relationships don’t work out, baby. Some people just aren’t meant to be—” at that I tune her out, because I will never believe Nya and I aren’t meant to be together. I wouldn’t still want her so badly after all these years if that were the case.
“She’s gonna be okay, right?” Nya asks as she slinks back into the room after tucking Ellie into bed, looking positively defeated. She swiftly takes the procured glass of wine from Hannah before plopping into the chair across from mine for what has become a routine Sunday night card game.
“Sure.” I nod before taking a pull from my beer. It’s hard to keep the mood light, but the last thing this woman needs is me acting like a petulant child. She’s well aware of how much I still want to be with her. From the day we split, I’ve made that no secret.
“I mean,” she adds, fanning her cards in front of her face and arranging them in her hand. “We’re doing the right thing…right?”
“Oh, yeah,” Hannah agrees, while I practically bite my tongue off. “You’re great parents. Don’t ever doubt that. Tons of kids grow up in broken homes these days and most of them turn out just fine.”
Ouch. Probably not the best way to support her endorsement. Internally I cringe as Nya balks at her words.
Drinks are flowing more heavily tonight than usual as we play a few rounds of poker. I’m thankful for the empty chair that Ryder’s occupied the past couple of months when Nya makes me an offer I’d be a fool to refuse.
“What if we gave it another shot?” she asks, almost inaudibly. Her tan cheeks are flushed crimson. “That’d be stupid, right?” She glances from Hannah to me, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
“Why not?” I interrupt when she starts backpedaling.
“You could always try it out for say…a year.” Hannah pushes her unruly cropped blonde curls behind her ears, and her emerald eyes glow with excitement. She’s always been a fan of Nya and me. “And if you don’t want to be married when the time’s up, you call it quits.”
Nya slinks out of her chair, pacing the kitchen. The r
oom falls silent as we all await the verdict. “Six months,” she counters, looking to me for approval. Insufferable woman always has to have everything on her terms, but she’s finally handing me some terms I can work with.
“What?” Hannah shrieks. “Are you serious?” Bounding out of her chair, she rushes to wrap her arms around her best friend’s neck. “This is the best crazy idea you’ve ever had.”
“Right now,” I suggest, pushing back from the table, before she has the time to change her mind. I look over to Hannah, who’s practically bursting with excitement. “Call the sitter?”
She nods and immediately begins scrolling through her iPhone.
“Vegas?” Nya proposes with something suspiciously close to a twinkle in her eye.
“Vegas!”
Keep Reading! Get Take Two here.
PREVIEW OF POUR JUDGMENT
PROLOGUE
Rhett
“Oh, Rhett, yesss…”
I squeeze harder, lapping her nipple into a firm bud through her thin top. My cock stiffens as she grinds her hips to the tempo of the music, giving me a sexy as fuck lap dance. Suddenly I have this inexplicable urge to look up, letting Monica’s tit slip from my mouth. I feel smothered—like all the air has suddenly been pulled from the room.
Who is that?
“It’s fine, Nick—” She digs her heels into the floor. “No, I don’t want to meet—”
“Rhett.” My drummer, Nick, approaches, dragging the very reluctant blonde behind him by the arm. “I’d like to introduce you to my cousin, Korie Potter. Korie, this is Rhett.” He gives her a little shove, landing her on her feet, right in front of my bent knees.
My eyes peruse her sweet little body. Her long blonde hair is pulled back in a low ponytail. There’s not an ounce of makeup on her face. Her eyes are a vibrant shade of emerald, and she has the most delectable little freckles dotting her cheekbones. She’s wearing a black Rolling Stones tee—slightly fitted, the collar ripped so it droops a little, exposing one shoulder. One creamy, slender, tantalizing shoulder. I clear my throat, reaching around the raven-haired beauty presently situated in my lap for Korie’s hand.
“I’m good,” she says, not reaching back, her face scrunched like she’s just gotten a whiff of something foul. “Just carry on with whatev—umm whoever you’re doing.” She whirls back on her cousin, eyes flaming. “I’m gonna go get some air.”
In her haste to get away, she trips over my foot and is sent hurtling face first to the floor. Like in the movies, the music stops and every pair of eyes in the room are on her.
“Oh, shit.” I slide Monica to the side. “Scuse me,” I rush out, blundering to my feet, the alcohol throwing off my balance as I hop around, trying to right my pants zipper before reaching her. “My fault,” I say, shoving the little douche aside who’s trying to help her up. “I’ve got it.”
He throws his hands in the air, backing away.
“Are you all right?” My fingers curl around her upper arm, and inexplicably my pulse begins to race.
Then, she turns toward me, and our eyes truly connect for the first time. Fireworks burst in my chest, and I can’t seem to locate my voice. The attraction is instantaneous.
Well, it is for me at least.
She visibly stiffens. “Get your hands off of me. I’m fine.”
“Just wanted to make sure you were oka—”
She shrugs out of my hold, popping to her feet and righting her clothes. “I said, I’m fine.” She glances around at the slew of eyes fixed on her, sneering at all the snooty females whispering, pointing their manicured nails, and giggling in their Louboutin shoes and designer cocktail dresses. What I found hot not even five minutes ago suddenly seems pretentious and well, boring. “You’re just making it worse,” she grits.
“Right.” Nodding, I withdraw my hand and bring it to my chest. “You all act like you’ve never seen a person trip before,” I say, addressing the crowd. “Get back to it.” I clap my hands loudly toward the DJ, “Music!”
With an annoyed huff, she rolls her eyes and storms off in her black Converse.
Sneakers at a Hollywood party…Who is this girl?
“Don’t take it personally,” Nick says, coming up behind me and clapping me on the shoulder. “She’s Jax’s daughter.”
Jax Potter…Nicholas’s washed-up rock star uncle, who hooked us up with our agent and helped get The Rhett Taylor Band off the ground. So, that explains why her name sounded familiar. But still doesn’t account for her odd reaction toward me.
“Did I umm…Have we met before?” I stare after her until she disappears through the balcony door. “Did I offend her in some way?” I’m beginning to wonder if we’ve maybe hooked up and that’s the reason, I feel this strange connection. But I’m positive I’ve never felt like this before, and she certainly doesn’t seem like someone I’d easily forget.
“Nah, man. This just isn’t her scene. You know Jax…wasn’t easy being the one at home with her mom while he uh…did his thing.” He shrugs. “I’m honestly surprised to see her here at all.”
“Right,” I agree as Monica’s hands slink around my waist from behind. She’s shimmying to the beat of the sultry music, her breasts pressed to my back, but I’m just not in it any longer. “I’ll find you later,” I lie, kissing the tips of her fingers and sending her off to her friends.
She pouts like a child, running a hand over my chest. “Don’t forget me.”
Nick laughs after she walks off. “That’s probably what uh…what did it. She thinks we’re all like her pops.” He gives his shoulders another shrug. “Thanks for the party, man. You’re the best. I’m gonna go check on Korie.”
* * *
“Ahh, there you are,” I say, finding Korie perched on a wicker couch with a drink in hand. It’s a dark, clear night. She’s staring out at the stars, all alone on the balcony off Nick’s room. “So, I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot.” I take a pull from my beer then clear my throat. “I wanted to find you and reintroduce myself—start over again, you know, in less…awkward circumstances.”
Her head slowly rolls in my direction. The look in her eyes tells me she’s over this conversation before it even begins. “No need. Everyone with the internet knows who you are. You’re Rhett Taylor—bad boy of country music. Playboy. Womanizer.”
“Ouch.” I suck in a breath, bringing a hand to my chest. “Yeah…well, you see what the media wants people to see.”
She rises to her feet, closing the distance between us in a few strides. The wind blows through her hair, and I get a whiff of her floral shampoo. My dick twitches. She’s so close—inches away. I have to stop myself from giving in to the urge to reach out and touch her again. “What I saw when I walked in was nothing less than I expected.” She plants a hand on her hip. “That wasn’t the media. That was a rock star in his natural habitat.” She taps a hand lightly on the front of my shirt. “I know it’s probably real hard to believe, but I’m not here to go gaga and fall all over you.” She smiles a lazy smile. “As disappointing as that may be for your huge…ego.”
Did I just imagine her eyes dropping to my crotch?
“I came to see my cousin, who I haven’t seen in years. The rest of this”—her hand circles the air—“is just unfortunate.”
She stalks back into the house, leaving me to scrape my jaw up from the floor. Something about that sassy mouth of hers only makes me want her more.
I spend the rest of the evening lurking in the shadows of my own home, stalking a girl who wants nothing to do with me. It doesn’t take her long to befriend all of the girls who were making fun of her earlier tonight, including Monica. It would seem we’re all under her spell. But for some reason she’s decided to give them another chance. Me? Well, I think she’d written me off before walking through the door.
I’m green with envy. I don’t know what it is about this particular girl that has me feeling things I haven’t felt in years… but it makes me realize just how numb I’ve allow
ed myself to become.
For the first time since I can’t remember when, I’m feeling, and even jealousy feels a hell of a lot better than indifference.
CHAPTER 1
Rhett
“You’re serious right now?” Anika, my manager, paces the studio in four-inch stilettos while gnawing on the back of a pen. “You want to cancel studio time to go to…to camp?”
She’s kinda cute when she’s all riled up like this, her pale cheeks flaming red and daggers shooting from her amber eyes. I sink down further into the plush couch, crossing my arms on my chest. “It’ll be fun. I’m in need of some fun. You said so yourself. A few days on the coast with other single, college-aged adults. Real people, Anika. A break from Hollywood.”
“I said after we finish the album. Not right in the middle of recording it.” Her heels clack on the wood floors as she moves to crouch before me, resting her manicured nails on the arms of my chair. Her frustration is evident in the heaviness of her breaths. She shakes her head, tossing her long chestnut braid over her left shoulder. “It’s her, isn’t it? She’s going to be there?”
“Yes,” I answer, trying to cover a smirk. “Yeah…So, there’s no way I can put this off.” I realize the timing isn’t ideal, but it’s the perfect chance to work my magic on this girl, whom I can’t seem to get out of my head.
Pushing up from my knees, she’s again wearing a hole into the floor. “She hates you, Rhett. This is a terrible idea. Not only for your career, but because you’re going to end up disappointed.”
What she means is depressed. My first Hollywood girlfriend did a number on me, but that was before I knew how industry relationships worked. I keep my heart guarded now—locked up tight in a suit of armor. I just want the chance to play with my sword.
“I’m curious about her,” I say with a shrug, my mind wandering to my drummer Nick’s birthday party, about three weeks ago. To his cousin, Korie Potter. Her long, wavy blonde ponytail, faded jeans, and Rolling Stones tee. She stood out among the sequins and glitz. Her attempt to fade into the background had the complete opposite effect. Only adding to her appeal was the easy manner with which she carried herself. She had a confidence—an honesty—about her that I don’t see much in the circles I run. I can’t help but smile, remembering how unimpressed she was with everything Rhett Taylor. What did she call me again? Oh, yeah. The bad boy of country music. Someone’s been paying a little too much attention to TMZ.
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