No, Kelly wasn’t on the bus. He’d gone off to Galveston to be depressed over Sara. A stupid thing to do, but Owen didn’t understand life-altering grief. Luckily, he’d never personally experienced the loss of his soulmate or anyone close to him. Not even a grandparent. He hoped Kellen would get over Sara soon though. The guy needed to get laid so bad, just being around his celibate friend made Owen horny. He was duty bound to get laid enough for the both of them. “I guess she can have his dinner then.”
Tex nodded. “So she’s sure she got pregnant by one of us.”
“She’s sure.”
“But she’s almost certain it’s yours, right? My wife won’t want me bringing home some slut I knocked up by accident.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t,” Owen said, shaking his head in disgust.
“I mean, what happens on the bus, stays on the bus, right?”
That was their usual bargain, but this case was different. They couldn’t force Lindsey to live as a prisoner on the bus with her baby. The father would eventually have to acknowledge the child’s existence.
“Just pray it isn’t yours,” Owen said. Owen would rather the baby be his than have it be Tex’s. The guy couldn’t even stay faithful to his wife, so what kind of father would he make? A shitty one, Owen presumed.
“The Lord has been getting an earful of prayers from me tonight, that’s for damn sure.”
He’d probably be getting an earful of prayers from all of them tonight. “Yeah” was all Owen said before he turned and shuffled up the aisle between the sofa where Jacob was watching television and where Gabe was reading some obnoxiously thick book. Adam had hidden away in his bunk. Based on their body language and outright hiding, none of them wanted to talk. And Kelly wasn’t around to listen to Owen’s crushing problems. He headed for the cabinet and his old standby in times of crisis—food.
He was at the bottom of a bag of stale pretzels when the bus turned off the highway and into a 24-hour diner. He dusted the salt off his hands and moved to the back of the bus to get Lindsey. Everyone else fled, as if he were about to escort a man-eating shark out of the back bedroom.
“Are you ready to eat?” he asked from the doorway, thinking it wasn’t wise to help her out of bed or even touch her. Not when he planned to keep as far from her as possible. He suspected that if he was too nice to her and allowed even friendship to bloom between them, she’d misread his intentions and think a romantic relationship stood a chance.
Lindsey sat up on the edge of the bed and stumbled as she attempted to get her feet beneath her. She chuckled at her clumsiness and dug her fingers into the headboard for the extra boost she needed to stand.
“I can’t decide if I’m more tired or hungry,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes with the back of her wrist.
“I can bring you some takeout,” he offered, “if you’d rather stay here and rest.”
“I’m up,” she said and waddled past him, rubbing her belly with both hands. He followed her, stopping when she hesitated at the top of the steep bus steps.
“Can you manage?” he asked, doing his best to keep his distance when every instinct shouted at him to help her down the potentially dangerous steps.
“I think so,” she said, gripping the shiny metal bar that served as a railing. “I’m just exhausted. My legs are a little wobbly.”
Was she saying that so he’d take her arm and help her down the steps, or was she legitimately too tired to safely make it down on her own? He wasn’t willing to risk her falling. A security guard had already shoved her and made her fall once that night; he refused to be responsible for another tumble.
“Take my arm,” he insisted, shifting into the narrow stairwell beside her and assisting her as indifferently as possible as they took one step at a time.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I wish I could get my shit together tonight.”
“You’ve had an exhausting day.” He wasn’t sure why he was making excuses for her. He felt like such a doormat. None of the other guys were going out of their way to help this woman, so why should he?
Because the baby was most likely his.
This could not be happening.
“An exhausting three months,” she said and squeezed his arm.
Maybe he’d ask her about those three months later, but now they had to navigate the crowd of opening bands and crew members already headed toward the entrance of the diner. By being the last off the bus, they’d missed their opportunity to be at the front of the line. Owen received a lot of confused stares from those waiting in front of them, but he kept his head down and his hands off Lindsey so everyone wouldn’t wrongly assume that she was with him. Well, technically she was with him, but not because he wanted her to be. He glanced at her, finding her silky blond hair shielding her expression as she stared at the ground in front of them. He wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable.
They were seated at a table for two—because all the larger tables were already taken and his bandmates had betrayed him by allowing some other dudes to sit in his spot and the spot normally reserved for Kelly. Jackasses.
“Sorry you have to eat with me instead of your friends,” Lindsey said as she settled into her chair.
“I’d rather eat with you anyway,” he said, which at the moment was true. Jackasses.
“How nice of you to lie to save my feelings,” Lindsey said with a smile of gratitude. She picked up the menu in front of her. Owen followed her lead.
A tired-looking waitress approached their table after a few minutes. “What would you like to drink?”
“Water is fine,” Lindsey said.
“For me too,” he said. Owen had already decided he was going to feast in abundance tonight, and he wouldn’t be wasting those excess calories on beverages. He’d squeeze in an extra workout the next day to make up for his indulgence.
“I’m Katie and I’ll be your server tonight,” the waitress said as she filled their water glasses. “Are you ready to order?”
“I’m still trying to decide,” Lindsey said. She nodded toward Owen. “I’ll have it figured out by the time he’s done ordering.”
The diner was so crowded and noisy that Owen had to yell his order over the din. And seeing as he was stressed out and planning to feed that stress, his order was incredibly long and detailed.
“I’ll just have some scrambled eggs and wheat toast,” Lindsey said when it was her turn to order.
Owen felt like a complete pig for ordering the steak with the loaded baked potato and the shrimp platter with fries as well as a full-size chef salad and a bowl of chili. He’d even planned on getting dessert when the time came.
“I thought you were hungry,” he said to Lindsey as the waitress walked away.
Her cheeks went pink. “I’m rather short on funds at the moment,” she said.
“You don’t have to worry about that. The band will pick up the tab for everyone.” He indicated the giant crowd of people around him with the sweep of one hand.
“Yeah, but they work for you. I’ve already imposed and—”
“It’s fine,” he insisted. “I’ll call the waitress back and you can order whatever you want.”
She busied herself with loosening the paper napkin around her silverware and spreading the pathetic excuse for a table linen over her lap. “Scrambled eggs are fine,” she said, obviously uncomfortable.
He didn’t push the issue. He’d just insist he was too full to finish his own excessive meal and offer his leftovers to her. She wouldn’t be able to refuse something that would otherwise go to waste, would she?
“So,” he said after a long moment of painful silence, “what kind of work do you do?” If she was serious about finding a job, then he was serious about helping her with that if he could.
“Uh, before I got canned, you mean?”
He nodded and shifted his attention to his water glass, rubbing at the condensation collected on its exterior with one thumb.
“Banking,” she said. “
I was a teller and then I became a loan officer. I got fired for being pregnant, but my employee file will say I gave out too many bad loans. I’m somewhat of a sucker for the destitute.”
He lifted his head and met her gaze.
“Sort of like you,” she said with a smile.
He sipped his water, letting her insult or compliment—he couldn’t tell which it was—slide. “Is that what you want to continue doing in the future? Banking, I mean. Not being a sucker for the destitute.”
“I’m not sure anyone will hire me,” she said. “I didn’t leave my last job on good terms. I called my boss—my ex-boss—a few choice words when she fired me. She’ll never give me a decent recommendation.”
“You can try. Do you want to stay in Austin after the baby is born?”
“That’s where my baby’s father lives,” she said. “Even if it turns out he isn’t you.”
Right.
This could not be happening.
“Maybe it’ll be easier to get a job far away from your last place of employment,” he said.
“Maybe.”
She didn’t seem too eager to get back to work. He watched her for a moment, wondering if she was just looking for a handout. Surely she would have ordered herself a larger meal if she was a freeloader. Or maybe she’d done that so he wouldn’t see what she was really after. He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt until she proved she was digging for gold. Kelly was a better judge of character than Owen had ever been; Owen wished his friend hadn’t left for Galveston right after the performance since he could use a little advice in the Caitlyn department as well. Kelly seemed to like Caitlyn and like her with Owen. Kelly had never told any other woman Owen’s closely guarded secrets, so she must have Kelly’s stamp of approval, but how did Lindsey fit in? Or did she even have to? Yeah, if she was the mother of his child, he’d have to fit her in somewhere.
This could not be happening.
Lindsey’s hand inched closer to his. “You seem distracted.”
Now why would he be distracted? Owen tucked his hand beneath the table, relieved when the waitress appeared with an overflowing tray of food.
He dug into his steak first, trying not to feel too guilty about eating for two while the person at the table who was actually eating for two didn’t even have enough food for one.
“Do you like shrimp?” he asked, picking a perfectly prepared breaded butterfly shrimp from his second plate.
She swallowed the last bite of her toast. “Who doesn’t like shrimp?”
“I love them.” He set one on the edge of her already empty plate. “Try one.”
They each sampled a shrimp, and the tender-on-the-inside, crisp-on-the-outside morsels were amazing. So amazing he almost reconsidered his plan.
“Good, huh?” he said.
“Excellent.”
He pushed the plate of shrimp, fries, and coleslaw toward her. “I can’t eat all this and finish my steak,” he said. “Eat those for me.”
“I couldn’t,” she protested.
“They’re just going to go to waste.”
She stared at him for a moment, and he was pretty sure he was as transparent as a spotlessly clean window, but she didn’t embarrass him by pointing out his generosity.
“Well, if it’s just going to go to waste.” She nibbled on a fry while a smile brightened her face.
He should probably be mean to her, he thought as he gulped down his glass of water, but it seemed she already had enough meanness in her life. What was wrong with showing her a bit of kindness and some compassion?
When her foot found his beneath the table and then her bare toe slid up his pants leg to stroke his calf, he immediately understood everything that was wrong with that plan.
Chapter Two
Caitlyn grabbed an unread copy of Popular Science and carried her cup of coffee to the round table in her breakfast nook. She normally didn’t drink coffee late at night or have time to read the stack of magazines accumulating on her kitchen counter, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not with a certain rock star dominating her thoughts.
Owen had seemed so nice, and that young, gorgeous groupie that had showed up after the concert—Lindsey—had been so pregnant. Caitlyn couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to call him within ten minutes of walking away from that scene. There was no way she was already that attached to the guy—they hardly knew each other. It had been an amazing one-night stand. Why couldn’t she just leave it at that?
Because she still wanted him.
Caitlyn sipped the rich black coffee and flipped through articles that couldn’t hold her attention. Instead, her mind was playing through the hot and dirty sex she’d experienced over the past twenty-four hours. She squirmed uncomfortably in her chair as she began to imagine all sorts of new scenarios she wanted to try with Owen. She had no doubt he could fulfill her every sexual fantasy. So maybe Owen wasn’t the man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with, but they could still enjoy each other’s company. She’d just have to be careful that he didn’t grab her heart the way she wanted him to grab her thighs before he filled her with that beguiling pierced cock of his.
She pushed her magazine aside and reached for her phone. Was he still awake? Should she call him again? How desperate would she look if she did something like that? She didn’t want him to know how much she wanted him, so instead of calling him or texting him, she did something far more desperate. She searched his name via Google.
There wasn’t too much information about him on the Internet. She knew far more personal stuff about him than was included in a short paragraph on Wikipedia that was nearly identical to the bio on Sole Regret’s official website. She found thousands of pictures of him, however, and he looked gorgeous in every single one. And in almost every shot he was posing with a different woman. Caitlyn might have convinced herself that all those women were just fans of his music, but they weren’t touching him in a platonic way, and he wasn’t trying to keep his distance.
“You are quite the man whore, Owen Mitchell,” she said quietly to one of the few pictures of him without a woman clinging to his chest or arm or ass; he was glued to Kellen Jamison’s side. She guessed she shouldn’t be surprised by Owen’s popularity. He was young and attractive and sensational in bed, not to mention famous in certain circles, but the man she’d spent last night and most of the day with had been sweet and charming and attentive. “I guess that’s why they all fall for you.” Including herself.
She sighed and switched off the screen of her phone. Could she pursue a man who wanted nothing from women but a good time and to get his rocks off?
“Yep,” she said. She wasn’t ready for a committed relationship anyway. Not after the way Charles had treated her. A man-whore rock star was exactly what she needed at this juncture in her life. Owen could fulfill her every fantasy without all the scary attachments that came with commitment and relationships. All that nonsense that Kellen had said the night before to make her feel like she could be special to his womanizing friend abandoned her instantly. Strangely, it was a relief. She could take Owen as a lover and use him the way he’d used so many women in the past. Assuming he still wanted her.
Her phone dinged with the delivery of a text message. She smiled when she saw it was from Owen.
Are you asleep? I’m lying here in my bunk thinking of you.
She giggled like a schoolgirl. He was sweeter than syrup. It was hard to believe he was the same guy who went through women the way most guys went through socks.
A second message dinged in.
And that makes me all hard and uncomfortable. Are you there?
Her breath caught as she read his words. Was this sexting? She knew about it, but Charles hadn’t been interested at her lame attempts to gain his attention.
I’m here, she answered in a text of her own.
Can I jerk off?
He was asking her? Was this some sort of game he was playing?
Can I? she counte
red, suddenly feeling the urge to touch herself.
No. I want you horny the next time I see you.
Three days, she reminded him. He’d wanted to see her tomorrow, but she’d told him she was angry with him and was making him wait three days. What kind of idiot put the guy off for three days? He’d be completely over her by then. But she was sticking to her guns. They would not see each other until Sunday.
Tomorrow. Or I’m going to jerk one out right now.
She laughed. Is that a threat?
Thrill Me Page 2
