“You promised me that you always wore protection with other women. Always. You promised me that. I never would have allowed . . .” She broke off with an angry growl.
Oh, that was what she’d meant.
“I did wear protection,” he said. And he wasn’t just saying that to appease her.
“Then how could you potentially be the father of this baby, Adam?” She poked him in the collarbone with her fork, fire sparking in her blue eyes. “How?”
“We all wore protection,” Jacob said.
“Then how is she pregnant?” Madison yelled.
“Wish I had the answer to that,” Owen said.
Madison’s stiff spine relaxed slightly as she scowled at her food and finally lowered her fork. Adam could practically see her mind trying to piece together the information that had been thrown at her.
After a moment, she said, “If you all wore protection, what’s to say she got pregnant by any of you? Maybe she’s a goddamned liar.”
Adam had already decided that was probably the case. Lindsey had gotten pregnant by some loser back home and not, as she claimed, by any of the losers in his band. She was just looking for a quick and easy bankroll. He really hoped Madison’s suspicions proved to be true.
“She’s got her sights set on me,” Owen said, “so unless the kid comes out with wild black hair, a permanent scowl on his face, and a Stratocaster in his little hands, then you don’t have anything to worry about, Madi.”
She actually smiled at this. Oh no, thinking about a miniature Adam should not make her smile. Or maybe she was smiling about something else. Adam hoped so. He wanted no babies in his life. Not even hers. But especially not Lindsey’s.
“All you have to do is make her get a paternity test,” Madison said. “Prove it isn’t any of yours. Get rid of her once and for all.”
“We’ll have one done as soon as the baby is born,” Jacob said. “Until then, we’re just playing a waiting game.”
“Fuck that,” Madison said, and the three men stared at her in stunned disbelief. She wasn’t the kind of woman who said fuck in polite company. Sure, she screamed it in the bedroom, but she’d never cursed in front of Adam’s bandmates. “They can do the test during pregnancy now. You don’t have to wait until she delivers.”
“They can?” Owen turned another shade greener.
Adam wondered why. Maybe there was a reason Lindsey was so insistent that the baby was Owen’s. Maybe he was hiding something about what had happened between himself and Lindsey and causing the rest of them undo anxiety for nothing. The bastard.
Madison nodded. “One of my clients got a girl in trouble—or so she said. The baby turned out not to be his. They did the test before she gave birth.”
“I’m not sure I want to know,” Owen said.
“It’s yours, isn’t it?” Adam accused Owen. “It’s yours and you know it, no maybe about it. You nutted inside her, didn’t you?” Adam made a grab across the table for Owen’s T-shirt, but Owen jerked back and threw up an arm to block him.
Owen shook his head. “Not that I know of. I honestly don’t know for sure if it’s mine. I just have this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that it is. Probably because she keeps saying it is. I guess if you hear something enough times, you start to believe it’s true.”
“That’s why I made him leave the bus with me today,” Jacob said. “The chick will not leave him alone. She’s psycho.”
And Jacob knew what psycho chicks were like firsthand, so Adam didn’t even question the guy’s claim.
Madison reached across the table and patted Owen’s hand. “Everything will turn out how it’s supposed to.”
Adam highly doubted that. Someone in his band was fucked. And not in a good a way.
“As long as it isn’t mine everything will be fine,” Adam said. “I knew I should have gotten that vasectomy last year. Had the appointment set and everything, but had to cancel.”
Madison’s head turned slowly, and her mouth dropped open. “A vasectomy?”
“Here we go again,” Jacob muttered.
“Were you even going to consult me before having it done?” Madison sputtered.
Adam lifted an eyebrow at her. “Why should I consult you? They’re my balls.”
“But our future children,” she said.
Adam stared at her, completely stunned that she was imagining children in their future. “Children? We aren’t having children.”
“When did we decide that?”
“We didn’t decide.” He pointed to his chest. “I decided.”
Her mouth opened and closed several times, as if she couldn’t find words scathing enough to spew at him.
“Don’t you think we should discuss this?” she finally asked.
“Nope.” There was nothing to discuss. He didn’t want kids. End of discussion.
She glanced at Jacob and Owen, who were both staring at her as if their spat was a spectator sport and the ball was in her court.
“We’ll talk about it later,” she said.
Not if he could help it.
“You done eating?” Jacob asked Owen. “I’m ready to head back to the bus.”
“Why don’t you go order some dinner for the rest of the band and the road crew while I finish?” Owen said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Jacob said.
Jacob stood from the table and every chick in the vicinity watched him walk to the counter. Even Adam’s chick.
“What are you looking at?” he asked. He was used to everyone staring at Jacob and not in the same way they stared at him, so he wasn’t jealous. He just liked fucking with her.
Madison’s heat-flushed cheeks reddened a shade brighter. “Um . . .” She cleared her throat and tore her gaze from Jacob’s broad back. Or maybe she’d been checking out his ass. “How’s your dad doing?” she asked, her eyes now focused intently on Adam. “Is he still in the hospital?”
Adam lifted a brow at her. “Are you trying to change the subject?”
Owen laughed at her obvious discomfort, and she threw a french fry at him, which he stuffed into his mouth before adding a few more of his own.
“I’m genuinely interested,” she said and fixed her best I’m an excellent listener look on her pretty face. He wanted to talk about his father almost as much as he wanted to discuss having kids.
Jacob returned to the table and started picking at his last few crawdads. Adam focused on his meal as well. Until Madison put a hand on his thigh and leaned into his arm.
“Adam?”
He sighed. Prying-assed woman, there was no deterring her. “He’s out of the hospital and going to stay with a friend in El Paso.”
“So he’s not at your place anymore?”
“Nope. I kicked him out.”
“And how did that make you feel?” she asked.
Adam lifted an eyebrow at her. She wanted to engage him in therapy? Right here in front of the guys? Not happening.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he said.
She glanced at Jacob and Owen, who were watching them closely, and offered Adam an understanding smile.
“Have you ever met Adam’s old man?” Jacob asked, tossing the last of his crawdad shells into the discard pile and helping himself to a large one from Adam’s plate.
Madison shook her head.
“He’s not all bad,” he said.
“Just ninety-nine percent of him,” Owen added with a laugh.
“I don’t want her to meet him,” Adam said.
“Why not?” Jacob asked.
Adam shrugged, but he knew why. He didn’t want her to look at the train wreck that was his father and realize Adam hadn’t fallen far from the tree.
By the time they finished their meal and collected a to-go order that cleaned out the food shack’s entire inventory of crawdads, it was too late to relax in the hotel before the show. Adam and Madison followed Jacob and Owen back to the venue. As far as Adam was concerned, he could ride his bike for eternity an
d ignore all the weights that dragged him down, but he had to learn to cope with real life. Had to cope even if his first instinct was to use drugs to make his problems go away—Madison had showed him that drugs only made his problems worse, he’d just been too high to recognize the truth of that—and his second instinct was to run from them by avoiding them. He was still working on how to get over the tendency toward avoidance.
He left the bike behind the bus and helped Madison climb off.
“My luggage is at the hotel, isn’t it?”
“Did you need something out of it? I don’t have time to go with you, but we can send you over in a cab. Unless you want to take the bike out on your own.”
She appraised the motorcycle as if she were actually contemplating climbing back on, but ultimately she shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll just change back into the clothes I wore on the plane. I’m sweltering in this leather.”
That was unfortunate, because she looked fantastic in her new outfit. But Adam wanted her to be comfortable, so he patted her butt and sent her up the bus steps with her sack of old clothes.
Owen headed toward the venue with the food. The guy loved doing nice things for people and really loved taking all the credit for his random acts. Jacob headed onto the bus with Adam behind him. Jacob pulled a beer from the fridge and twisted off the cap.
“So how did the song writing go this afternoon?” Jacob asked, drawing on his beer.
Adam’s stomach dropped, and he immediately bristled. “Fine,” he said. Which was an outright lie. He hadn’t written a thing all afternoon. Hell, he hadn’t written a thing since he’d gotten clean. He tried, but nothing gelled. He could sit there with his guitar in his hands for an hour and produce nothing but a scale. Stare at a blank sheet of paper for twice as long and write a single word. The. All of his lyrics started with “the” these days, and every song went nowhere from there. Maybe he should try starting with “a” or “when.”
“So you wrote something?” Jacob pressed.
“Yeah.” No, no I didn’t write a damn thing. Shit. Why did he always lie to cover his weaknesses? But if he could come up with some new lyrics quickly, Jacob would never know he hadn’t written them earlier that day.
“Is it good?”
“Of course it’s good.”
“I’d like to hear it,” Jacob said.
So would I. “I’d rather surprise you,” Adam said.
“Is it in your notebook under your mattress?” Jacob straightened from the counter he was leaning against and headed toward Adam’s bunk. “Let’s see it.”
Adam charged between the man and his bunk. “You’ll see it when I’m ready for you to see it.”
“Just be straight with me, Adam. You’re not as good a liar as you think you are.”
Adam’s jaw hardened. He didn’t like to be called a liar, even when it was true. He knew he had to get out of the habit of trying to cover for himself, but it had become a pattern when he’d been trashed all the time, and he couldn’t seem to break it.
“I didn’t write much,” he amended. “Or anything,” he added, when Jacob continued to stare at him eagerly.
Jacob nodded. “I kind of figured that,” he said. “So what’s the problem?”
“I dunno.” Adam shook his head. He kind of did know. Maybe. “I think . . . I think maybe I’m too happy.”
Jacob gave him a strange look. “Huh?”
“The music always came from the darkest part of me. It was a balm to my miserable soul, and now that I’m not miserable . . .” Adam held his palms in front of himself, lifted his shoulders and shook his head.
“Do you want me to make you miserable? I’m probably up for the task.” Jacob chuckled.
“I don’t know. If it would help. I don’t want to let you down. Or the band. The fans. If I have to be miserable to make music, then do your worst.”
Jacob lifted a fist. Adam stiffened, preparing for the blow that was sure to rattle his teeth.
Jacob pounded Adam’s shoulder cordially. “It will come, just give it time. I still think you should talk to Kellen’s chick. She composes. She might have some pointers for you.”
Adam scowled at Jacob. “She composes classical music. Entirely different.”
“Not entirely different,” Jacob said. “It’s music. She has to have an ear for various instruments to come up with harmonies and crescendos and all that stuff.”
“But I start with lyrics. I always have. The words are a story I add music too. No story, no music. You know that.”
“Maybe it’s time for a change.”
Adam hated to admit that Jacob might be right, so he didn’t respond with anything more than a shrug.
“And maybe it’s time to let the rest of us write some music,” Jacob added. “You aren’t the only one in this band with talent, you know.” He winked.
If he lost his tenuous hold on being the primary songwriter for Sole Regret, Adam really would feel replaceable. The reason the guys put up with him through his struggles with addiction was because he was the main creative engine for the band. He had to show them all that their patience had been worth the trouble.
“I’ll work on some stuff this weekend,” he said.
Jacob opened his mouth but then shut it again. He nodded instead. “Can’t wait to see what you come up with.”
Adam kind of wished Jacob would give him a little grief. Give him something to be pissed about or depressed about. Adam drew on emotion for his work and if his life continued to be sunshiny and easy, he’d soon be writing songs about kittens and pixies with glitter shooting out of their asses.
Madison came out of the bathroom in her loose denim skirt and plaid shirt. She’d carefully folded her leather and had it cradled into her chest.
“That’s better,” she said. “I thought I was going to sweat myself into a coma.”
“Adding that to my list of things I don’t need to know,” Jacob said and tugged his sunglasses out of the neckband of his shirt. Before he left the bus, he said, “I still think you should talk to what’s her face.”
“Dawn?” Adam said. Her name was easy to remember because she had hair that reminded him of a sunrise.
Ugh. There he went with the happy thoughts again.
“Yeah, her.”
Once he and Madison were alone, she turned to him. “Dawn?”
“Some girl Kellen met and is currently mooning over.”
“Oh. Is she pretty?”
Was that a hint of jealousy in her tone? He smiled. Madison had nothing to worry about in that regard. She was the only woman he wanted.
“Yeah. So?”
“Why does Jacob think you should talk to her?”
“She’s a composer. He thinks she might be able to help me with my writer’s block.”
“You have writer’s block? You never told me that.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think it would interest you.”
She set her clothes on the table and wrapped her arms around his neck. She stared up into his eyes and said, “Of course it interests me. Everything you do interests me. I love you. I’m here to support you whenever you need me.”
He stroked her hair from her upturned face and searched her eyes. He had never had anyone available for him in the capacity she offered. Her devotion delighted him and at the same time terrified him. She was too good for him. He didn’t deserve her. But his heart didn’t care. It gladly accepted all she gave him and was greedy for more.
When he kissed her, he didn’t mean for his passion to escalate, but as always, the heat between them burned intensely. She pressed more firmly against his body, and he instantly ignited, his kiss deepening, his hands sliding down her back to draw her closer.
He pulled his mouth from hers and turned her to face the opposite direction. His fingers dug into her hips to pull her
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