by Lily LaVae
She nodded and closed her eyes for a moment. The image slammed into him. She was trusting him, just a little… and with her head tilted up at him like that, and her eyes closed. He lowered his head just a bit and as her eyes fluttered open she stepped away. From viper to rabbit in an instant.
“I’ll go back to studying those books. I’m sorry I interrupted you.” She backed toward the hallway, keeping her eyes on him.
“Yeah, it’s best if you don’t bother us when we’re playing.” Why wasn’t he angry? If anyone else had disturbed him, he’d have torn them a new one.
“Sorry, again.” She backed through his door and shut it.
The bus door swung back open loudly and Kent was there in a second. “So, when were you planning to tell me you had a new assistant?”
Maybe never. Not if Kent knew her better than he did. For some reason, it mattered.
“I’m sure I would’ve gotten around to it, eventually.”
7
Eloise growled to herself as she threw the old papers off the desk so she could go through everything to decide what needed to stay and what could go. She kept rubbing her lips together, trying to forget the feeling of his breath brushing over her mouth. Liam had done that too, had made her excited. He’d gotten her pregnant and then left her in the birthing room, saying she was an unfit mother. He must have been right because the baby never made it out alive. Not that Liam ever came back to find out.
And then she’d proved him right because she couldn’t control herself after that. She’d been so furious with him, with her brother, with her family, with everyone. She’d carried baby Tristan for nine months—quit drinking for him. She’d been so good. But then she’d gone a whole day without feeling him. Liam said it was stupid, there was no way she was that tuned-in to the baby.
At least she never married a man who thought so little of her, but Jordan too? A huge tear rolled down her cheek and she swiped it away. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry over the loss of her family. Not after they’d given up on her. For precious Liam a thousand times, but not for those who’d abandoned her. There were no excuses for Jordan or parents.
Back in the main room of the bus, she could hear the strumming of the guitars again and they soothed her a little. This was slower than his usual, almost a ballad. Morgan’s music always had smoothed her jagged edges and the mellow strumming did its work. What few friends she had left always wondered how such hard, angry music could sooth her, but it did.
The music did its job and she returned to her task. The leather bound book of secrets sat where she had left it when Morgan walked in earlier. It detailed his every tattoo—practically every inch of him with specifics that left her warm. She reached for the book and thumbed through the pages until she found a particularly juicy passage.
Reading romance novels was one thing. Knowing the person who’d been written about was another. She could easily imagine his part in the action and putting herself in the place of the female was natural. She didn’t have a clue what the author looked like. It was far too tempting to ignore after his mouth had been so close to hers and he’d been so curious about her, far more curious than any man had been in a long time.
She shifted positions in her chair, an ach building deep within her as she kept reading. It was compelling, almost bestseller material. She found herself wondering about the man behind the pages of the diary. The music played and her mind wandered to the bed right behind her. What would it be like to have what her predecessor had? Would he be as amazing as the author made him sound? She rubbed her neck and shifted again, unable to stifle a moan.
A whisper soft kiss on her neck made her gasp. “You don’t have to just read about it.” He barely held in the amusement as he kissed her a little closer to her ear.
Part of her wanted to shove him away, but both the book and the deep desire forming for her boss wove a spell over her. He kissed her again.
“I should make you stop.” Her words came out on a sigh, losing all meaning.
“You can pretend for the next hour that I really did ask you to be my wife,” he mumbled into her neck.
For the next hour. That would be it. She would be emotionally invested, and he would treat her just like he had every other PA—he’d tasted for a time and throw her away. Just like Liam. Eloise shoved away from the desk and stood up to be apart from him. “I’m okay with just the fantasy. Reality is a little too real, thanks.” She took a deep breath, her body far too attuned to his to let him get any closer. Desire had gotten her in so much hurt, how could she let herself fall? She’d been so good at keeping men away, until now.
“I’ve yet to hire an assistant who didn’t give in eventually.” He smirked and stared at her.
“You’ve never hired anyone like me.” She hoped that was true, because it would be far too easy to let her guard down with Morgan. He’d already chipped away more of her wall than she’d ever planned to lose. “I’m going to burn those pages.”
He laughed. “Don’t bother, they aren’t half as good as it really was.”
Where she’d been hot with passion a moment before, now something close to jealously popped to life. He enjoyed sex. She’d always thought Liam would be the one. Her only one. But there, on that bus, it was so easy to let herself go. To be who he wanted her to be. What would it matter if she let herself enjoy a few minutes with Morgan? Wouldn’t she then be just like ever woman who had come before her? He would forget her two days later just like he had all the others.
If that was true, he’d never be satisfied with her. Liam had tried, but she just couldn’t climax and it got to the point where he didn’t even try. “I…didn’t know.” Her cheeks burned with the admission. A woman her age should’ve realized that an amazing diary entry, wasn’t true. Though she would’ve expected him to say that it wasn’t as good as she made it sound. Had she really missed out on that much, or did men just always enjoy sex more? She bit her lip and glanced at him.
“Are you surprised? Reality is sometimes better than fiction.”
Eloise couldn’t let that slide. Hadn’t he just said that what had really occurred was better? “How can it be fiction, you just said it happened.”
He advanced on her until she was up against the wall next to the bed. “Want me to show you just how fictional that account is?”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Part of her desperately wanted what the author had, but she couldn’t let her heart get attached again. “No.” But please, yes. She was so confused. Was it just his star power, or did she really feel something for him—if even after such a short time?
He didn’t touch her, but his hand braced the wall near her waist to one side and by her head on the other. She was completely free to leave, yet trapped at the same time. He lowered his mouth over hers, so close. “I’d bet all that emotion you keep bottled up inside would come out kicking and screaming…” His breath fanned over her face.
It probably would. He’d have scratches down his back from her nails. He’d probably have to hold her down, but she’d love every second of it. And so would he.
He stooped closer. “I’m waiting for you to run.” His eyes bored into hers, but she didn’t see anything there. No emotion, not even lust. Was he so good at hiding it, or didn’t he care? She ducked under his arm and made for the door.
“There, you got your wish.”
He’d only been reading over Eloise’s shoulder for a minute before he realized she was reading Amanda’s version of what had happened one of the two nights he’d seduced her. That had been a mistake. There was something about sharing his trailer, his space, with a woman that made him need her.
If he didn’t keep reminding himself that Eloise was off limits, he’d drive her away. He couldn’t do that just yet. There was too much about her he wanted to know, needed to know. Just thinking about her was driving him to distraction. There was almost a kinship he felt with her, something close—like home. But not his own home, hers. The place where he’d b
een accepted and loved. When she’d spoken about her brother, a need had built in him for something tangible. Something like what he’d had in her house so many years before. Jordan had been a good friend. His parents had been more to Morgan than his own mother. But he had to base his current relationship with his assistant on more than just a shared past. Especially since neither of them wanted to revisit that past.
He opened his closet and grabbed his laundry bag. It was time to send Eloise on some chores and get her out of his hair—and thoughts—for a while. The DBA had done their job. They had found him a perfect match, almost too perfect. He was becoming attached to her. He didn’t know how to deal with his own mush and emotion. No one had gotten to him like Eloise.
Outside of his room, he heard her giggle and he froze with his hand on the door. That was the first he’d ever heard it and he had to know who had made it happen and why. He slowly opened his door. Kent sat on the couch, his arm leisurely around Eloise. She sat, relaxed, next to him. Why was she so relaxed with Kent, the one who reminded her of her brother?
“Remember that time I took you down to the arcade to find Jordan? You were such a sweet kid. What happened?”
Eloise fidgeted with her hands for a moment then brushed her hair behind her ear. “I grew up. Fast.” Her voice was so quiet, he almost didn’t hear her.
“I’m sorry. Anything I can do to help?” Kent pulled her closer and Morgan squeezed the handle of the laundry bag until his knuckles ached.
“No. I’ve been seeing a therapist, but that’s done. I answered Morgan’s ad and now I have a new chance. I’m not going to blow this. If I can do this, maybe I can have a life worth living.”
Kent leaned over and kissed her temple. “You’ve got this, kid.”
Morgan strode forward, he’d seen enough. “Eloise, here’s my laundry. I’ll need it done before we head out. Be sure to read labels. Shouldn’t take you more than a couple hours.” He thrust the sack out and held it in front of her.
She stared at it for a minute then glanced up him. “Laundry? Do you have money for the laundromat or what?” She didn’t move as he wanted her to. She needed to get out of Kent’s arms no matter how brotherly Kent was acting.
“There’s a couple rolls of quarters in the bag and the soap I prefer too.” He hated growling at her, but her coziness with his base player made him furious.
Kent moved his arm and his sigh was almost a challenge. Eloise stood and took the bag from him. “I’ll be back after a while.”
“Take your time.” He meant it too. He needed space and time to think. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from watching her little jean clad ass as she walked out of the trailer.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Kent leaned forward and rested against his knees.
“I can’t concentrate with her around. I start thinking about my past. I left all that behind.” It was a lie, but Kent didn’t need to know everything about him. He certainly hadn’t mentioned he’d gotten so close to Amanda.
“That’s a past you fought for when we started. You didn’t want to change your name because you’d worked so hard in all those bars, and thought those people would be your first fans. Then, when you started raking in the royalties, you said you never wanted to go back.”
“Those people wouldn’t even know me anymore.” He didn’t really want them to. He wasn’t anything like who’d he’d been and while his persona worked well on the road, back home, he would be just another asshole.
“Maybe. Have you ever thought of doing one of those old songs in a set? Maybe when we head home next week?” Kent tilted his head as he stared at the ceiling, pensive. “It might be fun.”
It might also attract Eloise’s brother, which he’d promised he wouldn’t do. “I don’t know. That was so long ago and most of what we did was covers. I can’t do covers anymore.” In fact, if he did, he’d probably get in a world of trouble that he didn’t need. It wouldn’t matter that it might bring an old star a new lease on some cash. It would only matter that he’d done their song.
“True, but we do have one original.”
He stuck his hand up, cutting off his friend. “No. I won’t sing that song.” He’d written it to impress his mother, who had never been impressed by anything he’d ever done. Not even now. She never called—didn’t even try to make contact. That song was a wound that didn’t need to be reopened.
“If having her around bothers you so bad, fire her. Leave her here. We’ve managed without an assistant before and we can do it again. Or, you can hire Amanda back.”
Never. He didn’t even know how to contact her directly. “Or, if you want her around so bad, you can ask her to come along as your groupie.”
“Maybe I will. Might keep things interesting.”
There was no way he wanted Amanda around any longer. “If she makes things too interesting, she’ll be going home.”
“Not if I’m the one paying her way.” He remained seated, but his shoulders rolled as they bunched with tension.
“Then maybe I should just say ‘no’ right here and now.”
“You think you can just control everything, but there are some things in life you can’t—like me. I’m just as much a part of this band as you, and without me, you don’t play.”
While that was true in the short term, there were always musicians looking for their big break. “You go right on believing that. In the meantime, get out of my trailer.”
Kent stood and headed for the door. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “If seeing Eloise forces you to think about your past, maybe it’s time to face it.”
Trouble was, he didn’t want to face his past or get rid of Eloise.
8
It had taken her two blocks of walking, well, stomping really, to remember she hadn’t driven there in her own car. She couldn’t just drive to a laundromat and come back. She’d have to ask Morgan’s driver, who must follow the bus everywhere. If he hadn’t been waiting around Dallas for her, he may have gone home for his short break. Wherever home was.
A small suburb of Nashville had been where they’d all grown up, but if she remembered right, Morgan’s mom was a drunk and he’d been famous for a long time. She’d have heard about it if anyone actually knew who he was. She wandered over to the staff caravan and looked for the driver who’d brought her and Morgan from the DBA.
After only a short search, she found him. The tall, lanky man looked more like a model than a driver.
“Excuse me, Morgan asked that I get his clothes washed. Can you drive me to the nearest laundromat?”
He rolled his eyes at her. “They don’t pay me to drive you around. I’ll call you an uber.” He turned away from her and shared a laugh with the guys standing around. Apparently, she’d made a faux pas. She’d have to get her cell phone and just do things on her own from here on out. She also should’ve gotten Morgan’s cell phone number, in case anything happened. It hadn’t come up and she hadn’t thought about it.
The driver turned back to her. “He’ll be here in about twenty. Meet you at the front bus.”
She’d have to walk all the way back where she’d started from and with her luck, she’d run into Morgan. He’d wonder why the hell she hadn’t even started yet and she’d have to explain it all. It was beginning to be perfectly clear that she wasn’t cut out to be his assistant. While she may have the qualities he was looking for—whatever those were—they weren’t the qualities of a good assistant.
While she waited near the front of the bus, Kent came storming out. As soon as he saw her, he tried to smile at her, but he was angry.
“You waiting on something?” He leaned against the bus next to her.
“Yeah, I didn’t know I was supposed to call a cab. Found out my error from Morgan’s driver.”
“Yeah.” Kent glanced at the ground. “He can be a bit full of himself.” He paused for a minute. “I just wanted to warn you. Morgan never keeps his assistants long. And you remind him of some things he’d rathe
r forget. It isn’t you or the job you do.”
He was already thinking of getting rid of her? But he hadn’t made a stipulation like that in the contract, only if she left. Her heart beat faster. What would she do if he fired her while they were on the road, and she couldn’t afford to get back home? He wouldn’t have to pay her anything if that happened.
“Are you saying I should leave while the leaving is easy?”
“I’m not telling you what to do. It’s your life. Morgan tries to stop everyone from living but himself. He’s selfish—the only one who matters.”
Then why did he keep trying to find out about her? It could all be an act to get her to sleep with him, but it could also be that he wasn’t as self-serving as everyone thought. “All I know is I have to do his laundry right now, but I think I’ll have the driver take me home. I can do it there without spending money and I can think for a little while.”
He leaned over and pinched her arm. “I’m pulling for you. I don’t want to see you get hurt and the longer you stay around Morgan, the bigger the chance of that happening.”
Maybe Kent was right. Maybe the money wasn’t worth it. Especially if she lost herself and then he fired her anyway hundreds of miles from home.
The uber driver pulled up and waved. She hoisted the bag over her shoulder and nodded a goodbye to Kent. He didn’t act like a star. Why couldn’t Morgan act the same? He would be easy to get along with for a year if he did. Course, then he wouldn’t be Morgan. Kent was safe because she’d known him as a child and as long as he didn’t try to get in contact with Jordan, things would be fine. Kent also wasn’t Morgan and didn’t make her heart race and her palms sweaty. He didn’t make her think of forgetting her promise to never sleep with another man, either.
“Where to?” The driver pulled up an app on his phone. “Your call in didn’t give directions.”
She gave him the address to her apartment. “Did he give you payment, by any chance?” She hoped they did, because she’d never used uber before and had no money on her except the quarters for the laundry.
