One More Kiss

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One More Kiss Page 1

by Samantha Chase




  Also by Samantha Chase

  The Montgomery Brothers

  Wait for Me

  Trust in Me

  Stay with Me

  More of Me

  Return to You

  Meant for You

  I’ll Be There

  The Shaughnessy Brothers

  Made for Us

  Love Walks In

  Always My Girl

  This Is Our Song

  Holiday Romance

  The Christmas Cottage

  Ever After

  Mistletoe Between Friends

  The Snowflake Inn

  Life, Love and Babies

  The Baby Arrangement

  Baby, I’m Yours

  Baby, Be Mine

  Thank you for purchasing this eBook.

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  Copyright © 2017 by Samantha Chase

  Cover and internal design © 2017 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover image © Yuri Arcurs/Getty Images

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

  (630) 961-3900

  Fax: (630) 961-2168

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  Contents

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Vivienne Forrester’s Black Bean and Corn Guacamole

  Vivienne’s Chicken Salad Baguettes

  Vivienne’s Orange-Colored Soup

  Matty Reed’s Grilled-to-Perfection Steaks

  A Sneak Peek at A Sky Full of Stars

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  Frank—the man who keeps music in my life, even if it’s music I don’t want, and is one of the most gifted musicians I know. Thank you for always being there and encouraging me to keep going when the fight seems too hard. I love you.

  Nicholas—the one who makes me laugh more than any human being alive. What an inspiration you are, reminding me every day to go after my dreams even when no one else believes in them.

  And Michael—the one who reminds me that there are good people in this world. Your heart and your outlook on life—even when it’s negative—always help keep things in perspective.

  I am a blessed woman, indeed.

  Prologue

  Two years ago

  The noise level backstage was almost as deafening as it had been while they took their final bow. Not that it was much of a surprise. The fans always went wild after the encore, always wanting more. But that’s how you’re supposed to leave them. It guaranteed they’d come back and see you the next time you were in town.

  Matt Reed wasn’t sure that was going to happen.

  Shaughnessy, the band he’d cofounded and played lead guitar in for over ten years, was going on hiatus. It was a good thing. A necessity. A chance to check out other creative outlets. And he was going to spend the next year exploring those options.

  Someone shoved a bottle of Jack Daniels into his hands as he made his way through the crowd to his dressing room. He readily took it, opened it, and was drinking from it before he was behind closed doors. Not that it was a shock to anyone—he was a rock star; he drank. The two seemed to go hand in hand. Only…he was getting tired of it. It was no longer fun getting drunk. It make him feel…sad. Weak.

  Alone.

  He was just about to strip off his shirt when there was a loud knock on the door behind him. “Fifteen minutes, Matty!”

  Hell, he was ready for a break—from the band and the persona. For a little while, it was going to be nice to be just Matt Reed again. Cursing, he took another pull from the bottle, downing a good portion of it before slamming the bottle down.

  So. Damn. Ready.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t love playing with Riley, Dylan, and Julian—he did. It was just that it was time to do something new. Something different. Something that put him in the spotlight and center stage. For years, Matt had dreamed of breaking out a bit, but he hadn’t found the right avenue to do it until now.

  Only a few weeks ago, Matt’s agent had presented him with the opportunity to be the lead in a new rock opera that was being written for Broadway. The timing had been perfect—Dylan was joining the lineup of one of those rock-legends tours, and Julian was getting ready to cowrite the music for his girlfriend Dena’s debut album.

  “Dena,” Matt grumbled as he searched for a clean change of clothes. “She is going to be the death of him. Doesn’t he realize she’s only using him for his connections? She has zero talent! Why is he wasting his time on something like that?” While he knew no one was there to answer him, it still helped him to vent about the situation his friend was putting himself in.

  He wasn’t stupid. Matt knew exactly why Julian was doing what he was doing. But it still seemed a bit ridiculous. “Because he’s in love,” he said with a derisive snort. “One day, he’ll realize she’s all wrong for him, but the more we keep telling him, the more determined he is to prove us wrong.”

  None of this was new information, so he had no idea why he was even thinking about it. What he really needed to focus on was getting cleaned up and out of here. After the party, they were all going to sit down with Riley, who had been blindsided by the fact that they were all moving on to do solo projects rather than taking a short break. Matt felt bad about it—he really did—but it was time for him to put his life first, rather than the band.

  Pushing that thought aside, he quickly finished stripping and changed into clean clothes. One more party to show up at, one more night of flirting and drinking and dancing, and then he’d be able to head off and start this new chapter of his life.

  “This could finally be my turn,” he mumbled as he packed up his clothes, stuffing them into his bag. With a final look around the room, he checked his reflection and grimaced. “Time for a shower would have been nice.”

  Wishing for that time was pointless, so with nothing left to do, he grabbed the almost-empty bottle, strode across the room, and pulled open the door.

  And froze.

  Standing there was his every fantasy come to life.

  Wide, chocolate-brown eyes; long, wavy dark-brown hair; red lips; and a body that was l
ovingly encased in faded denim jeans and a black T-shirt. Black looked good on her. The only question he had was: Who is she? His agent Mick and their security team made sure no one got backstage. Especially when they were on a tight schedule.

  “Matt?” she asked nervously.

  Matt? That stopped him because his stage name was Matty—something he hated but the fans loved—and every groupie he’d ever met referred to him as such. If this woman was calling him Matt, he had to know her from somewhere else. Taking a closer look, he then stepped back in shock.

  “Vivienne?”

  She nodded and gave a small wave as she sighed with relief. “Hey,” she said quietly, a small smile crossing her face. “How are you?”

  Holy shit! His best friend Aaron’s little sister was here and looking…hot! How was he? At the moment, he felt like he was having a stroke!

  “Um…Matt?”

  “Oh, right. Right. Come on in!” Matt took another step back and motioned for Vivienne to step into his dressing room. He closed the door and watched as she looked around the space.

  After a few seconds, she turned back to him and smiled. “It’s not quite what I imagined.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Not glamorous at all.”

  “So how are you?” she asked.

  “I’m good. I’m good,” he replied. “How…how did you get back here? No one is supposed to get backstage.”

  She blushed, looking embarrassed. “Oh. Sorry. I know the head of security here at the arena, and then I spotted Riley, so…” She shrugged. “I’m sorry. I should probably go. I just wanted to stop and say hello.” Vivienne ducked her head and started to walk to the door when Matt stopped her. She looked up at him, those big, brown eyes filled with regret.

  Matt cursed himself under his breath. “Hey, I’m not mad you’re here. I’m just surprised. Like I said, security never lets this happen. Sometimes fans get a little…overzealous, so we have a policy that no one gets backstage without clearance.” He had his hand gently wrapped around her upper arm and she was close.

  Very close.

  When the hell had Vivienne grown up? The last time Matt had seen her, she had been fourteen and wore braces. But this woman standing in front of him was… Wow. He took a deep breath before speaking again. “It’s really good to see you.”

  She seemed to relax visibly. “Oh. Good. Me too.” She shook her head and murmured something to herself. “I mean it’s good to see you too.”

  Matt knew he should step back, move away, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She was beautiful.

  “I…I wasn’t sure if you’d even recognize me or remember me,” she said softly.

  “It took me a minute,” he admitted, his tone equally soft. It hit him how quiet everything had gotten. The loud hum of activity on the other side of the door seemed to have died away, and the only thing he could hear was the two of them breathing.

  He knew he should ask about her brother and stick to safe topics, but he was feeling a little buzzed from the liquor and his thinking was slightly skewed. In that moment, he didn’t really care about talking or making idle chitchat. Her lips—all soft and red and glossy—were beckoning him. When he began to lower his head, it registered that she wasn’t pulling away. If anything, she was slowly meeting him halfway.

  The moment his lips captured hers, Matt was lost. He dropped his bag and the bottle to the floor, the latter hitting with a loud crash neither of them noticed. Vivienne’s arms slowly came up and looped around his shoulders as Matt’s banded around her waist.

  She tasted so sweet he simply forgot where they were.

  The door behind them crashed open. “Matty! Let’s go! The car’s waiting!”

  Matt lifted his head and looked behind him to see Mick’s angry face staring back at him.

  “What the hell?” Mick growled. “How did this one get by security?” He called out to someone in the hallway, and he stalked over, grabbed Matt’s bag off the floor, and then Matt by the arm. “Let’s go!”

  “Mick…wait!” Matt stammered, doing his best to break free.

  “Take him to the car,” Mick snapped, shoving Matt toward three security guys. “And you,” he said firmly to Vivienne, “I suggest you leave now, or I’ll have you escorted out and press charges!”

  “No!” she cried. “You don’t understand. I’m—”

  “Save it!” Mick turned back toward where Matt was struggling with the security guards. “Go!”

  There seemed to be hundreds of people lining the hallway, and no matter how much Matt struggled to free himself from the security guys, he couldn’t. He called back toward where he last saw Vivienne, but it was no use. He could barely hear himself shout, how was she supposed to hear him?

  Maybe it was for the best. There was no way it was a good idea to mess around with her. Aaron was one of his best friends and would probably kick his ass for even thinking about Vivienne.

  Once he was in the limo with the door firmly shut behind him, Matt sagged into the seat. Yeah, maybe it was all for the best. He wasn’t going to ruin a friendship over a one-night stand.

  Even if there was the merest possibility of her being more.

  Chapter 1

  “Matty! How does it feel to know you killed the show?”

  “Matty! Are you going to reimburse the investors?”

  “Matty! Is it true you were drunk on opening night?”

  “Matty! Does this mean the end of Shaughnessy too?”

  Every. Day.

  Every damn day, it was the same thing. Every time Matt stepped out of his condo, there was a crowd of vultures just waiting to taunt and torment him about the epic failure that was his Broadway debut.

  Three nights. Two years in the making and the damn show had only run three nights before getting axed.

  Dammit.

  Now he was the laughingstock of…well, pretty much everything. The media was having a field day with him. His picture was all over blogs and newspapers and tabloid magazines with phrases like “disappointing” and “no talent” and, his personal favorite, “fake.”

  There was no way he believed any of it, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore. In a city of eight million plus people, it should be easy to walk around undetected. Clearly that was only the case when you weren’t in the spotlight for being a failure.

  Everybody’s a critic, especially when you’re down.

  With his cap firmly in place, Matt made his way through the crowd of people, doing his best to get to the curb. Ducking into the car waiting for him, he sighed with relief when the door closed and the driver immediately took off without asking any questions. Mick had sent the car to get Matt across town and to Mick’s office. He almost wished it was winter, so he could bundle up more in a disguise. The spring weather didn’t offer as many options.

  Closing his eyes, Matt rested his head against the seat cushion and tried to scrape off the negative feelings. It wasn’t easy to do. It had been two weeks, and there hadn’t been any other scandals to get the focus off him. He had thought he’d be over it by now—or that they would—but it wasn’t happening. Cheryl, his publicist, had done her best to put out statements with positive spins; she’d done as much damage control as she possibly could, but Matt was unwilling to speak to the press directly. At least until some of the ugliness died down.

  Maybe that was what Mick wanted to talk to him about—a way to get over this nightmare. Although, wouldn’t Cheryl have called first? A one-on-one meeting with Mick was never good. Riley Shaughnessy, lead singer and cofounder of the band, didn’t mind having them back when they were still functioning as a group, and maybe—now that Matt thought about it—it had been intentional. Riley obviously knew how to handle Mick and took it on so the rest of them didn’t have to.

  Unfortunately, this was a situation Riley couldn’t handle for hi
m. He had to do this on his own since it was a situation of his own doing.

  Dammit.

  With nothing left to do and refusing to get himself worked up even more, Matt leaned forward, pulled a bottle of water from the stocked bar, and decided to let his mind go blank for a little while.

  At least, that was the plan until his cell phone rang.

  Looking down at the screen, he smiled. Since the debacle of the show, he had decided to keep his phone turned off as much as humanly possible. Right now, he was glad it was on.

  “Hey, man! What’s going on?”

  There was a brief chuckle on the other end. “I’m calling to check on you and see how you’re doing.”

  Matt took a quick drink of the bottled water before answering. “I’m not gonna lie, Aaron, it pretty much sucks to be me at the moment.”

  “Yeah. I know.” He sighed. “So why are you still in New York? Get out of there for a while. Without the show, there’s no reason for you to stay.”

  Matt had been struggling with that idea himself. Leaving meant running, and he didn’t want to appear to be a coward—which was exactly what he told Aaron.

  “You’re not being a coward, Matt,” Aaron replied. “New York wasn’t your home before the show; no one expects you to make it your home now. Seriously, it’s time to move on. You can’t tell me you’re enjoying being harassed every time you open the door.”

  “Hell no,” Matt said with a mirthless laugh. “The thing is…I don’t even really have a home base anymore. I’m used to living out of hotels. I sold my place in Los Angeles because I was never there and I thought I’d be here for a while. Where would I go?”

  “Anywhere. Pick a spot on the map if you’ve got to.”

  How could he possibly explain that as much as he hated the harassment he was currently getting, it was easier than dealing with the unknown? Right now, Matt knew what to expect when he went out in public. But if he moved someplace else, he had no idea what the reaction would be. What if the media was worse at an unknown location? What if he was followed? What if—

  “You could come here,” Aaron suggested, interrupting Matt’s thoughts.

 

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