One More Kiss

by Samantha Chase

  Apparently overhauls take two years, he thought with a chuckle. If it had taken two years to renovate a guest cottage, he could only imagine how long a full-sized house would take her. He was intrigued, however, to see the results. For something to take that long, he had to imagine the interior was going to be just as fantastic and high-end as the main house.

  Matt hadn’t asked what Vivienne did for a living, so maybe the cottage had been more of a hobby to her and that’s why it had taken so long. He made a mental note to ask about it when she and Aaron returned.

  He hated having to stay here and wait. No doubt he could have given them a hand at Vivienne’s place and they could have moved twice as much, but it was too soon for him to be driving around town and risk someone recognizing him and leaking it to the press. He was already on edge as it was, waiting to see when they’d notice he wasn’t in New York anymore. He’d seen today’s headlines and knew there was already some speculation as to his whereabouts, but for now, the consensus seemed to be that he was still holed up in his condo. Hell, he hoped they held on to that thought for a little while longer so he could start to relax.

  It was a toss-up how much he wanted to follow the news. No doubt Mick would keep him up-to-date on what was going on, and Matt already had plans to put in calls to Riley, Dylan, and Julian. He’d been putting it off, but now that he was settling in for the month, he figured it would be the perfect time to call his bandmates and make sure they all didn’t hate him.

  Tomorrow.

  * * *

  “Okay, that last box in the corner should do it for tonight,” Vivienne said, scanning the room for any other items she could live without temporarily. “Once it’s loaded, we will have officially made a big dent in my packing and moving list.”

  Aaron picked up the box and walked out to the truck. When he came back in a minute later, he took the bottle of water Vivienne was holding out for him and thanked her. After a long drink, he put the bottle down on the counter and studied his sister.

  “What?” she asked with a chuckle. “You’re looking at me funny.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “What’s going on with you? You were borderline rude to Matt earlier.”

  Crap. Clearing her throat, she reached for her water and took a sip before replying. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I know it was a shock to see him there, but you pretty much sounded like you wouldn’t move into the cottage because of him.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Geez, dramatic much?”

  “Come on, Viv. Don’t deny it.”

  She sighed. “Okay, fine. Yes, it was a bit of a surprise to see him there, and after seeing all the media stuff about what he’s going through, I kind of felt overwhelmed. If they were harassing him like that in New York, who’s to say it won’t happen here?”

  “But no one knows he’s here,” Aaron countered.

  “Yeah, for now. I’m used to being able to come and go as I please. Now I have to worry about making sure everything is locked down so no one can see Matt’s here. It’s intimidating, and I would have appreciated a heads-up.”

  He looked a bit bashful. “I wanted to tell you—I did. But after Matt and I talked, we just knew the fewer people in the know, the better. Even his agent doesn’t know he’s here.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  “Simple. He told Matt he needed to get out of town and lay low, so he did.”

  “I’m just not comfortable with all of this, Aaron. I enjoy my privacy as much as the next person, but with you out of the country for a couple of weeks, it leaves all the responsibility for Matt’s privacy on me. I’d hate to be the reason someone got into your house simply because I was careless with the security system.”

  “You’re not going to have to do anything, Viv. He’s a grown man who can take care of himself. I’m stocking the house with enough food to get him through the month.”

  “It seems a bit excessive. Surely he doesn’t think he can stay inside the entire time,” she argued.

  Aaron shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I want him to have that option. I’m sure he’s used to donning disguises when he’s on tour so he can go out.”

  “You do realize this is Matt we’re talking about? He was pretty much a media whore before this whole thing hit. The band was always in the tabloids because of their partying. I don’t think he would understand the concept of putting on a disguise.”

  “Well, that’s neither here nor there. If he wants to go out, then he’s going to have to take some precautions or risk someone tipping off the press.” He sighed. “Look, he just needs a break—a chance to be out of the public eye for a little while and have people around him who aren’t going to screw him. I’m not saying you have to like him or be his biggest fan, but could you please just be nice to him at least?”

  If only he realized just what he was asking of her.

  “I’m not making any promises…”

  Coming around the kitchen island, Aaron hugged her. “You’re the best!” When he stepped away, he took another look around the room. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else you want to take tonight?”

  Vivienne shook her head. “I think we’re off to a good start. We’ll get these boxes over to the cottage and unpack them, and then I can bring the boxes back with me to reuse. It will be a great way to keep track of how much we can realistically get done in a night.”

  “So you want to do this every night?” he asked.

  She glanced at him suspiciously. “You said that’s what we’d do!”

  He grinned. “Just checking.”

  She swatted his arm playfully. “I just hope you can get the movers to come this weekend. I’m not sure how you’re going to pull that one off.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll make it happen. And as overwhelmed as you’re feeling, you are going to be so happy when you get to sleep in your new home.”

  Vivienne couldn’t help but smile because he was totally right.

  “And you’ll be even happier because we moved all these boxes beforehand and you’ll be almost completely unpacked. It will be like moving perfection.” Then he stepped back and took a dramatic bow. “You’re welcome.”

  “You’re a doofus.” She laughed, and together they made their way out of the town house. Vivienne locked the door and then followed Aaron out to the truck. “You know this isn’t going to be a quick and easy process, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, coming here and loading the boxes was easy because they were all piled up and ready to go. Unloading them will take longer—especially since I didn’t have time to prep the cottage and may not have everything I need to unpack the way I want to.”

  “So why don’t we just put the boxes inside while you make a list of what you’ll need, and then tomorrow we’ll tackle the unpacking?”

  He did have a point, she thought. “What time can you meet me tomorrow to pick up the next load?”

  “I have to go into the office for a while, but I can probably be to you by four. I’ll swing by and pick up the next load, and we’ll order pizza for dinner and eat at the cottage while we unpack. How does that sound?”

  She couldn’t help but grin. Things were falling into place and they had a plan. “Perfect.”

  * * *

  “This is the last box.”

  Vivienne looked around the room and then pointed to the far corner. “You can put it over there.” She stopped and paused when she noticed Matt standing and looking at her, but not moving. “Please.”

  He grinned. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Walking across the room, he placed the box where she requested and then stretched. Apparently he was a little more out of shape than he’d realized. Moving a dozen boxes should have been a breeze, but he was beginning to feel a couple twinges of pain.

  And he was going to keep
that information to himself.

  Aaron strode back into the house and looked around. “Okay, kiddo. That’s everything for tonight. Are you going to unpack any of them, or are we waiting for tomorrow night?”

  “I think I’ll wait until tomorrow night so I can have some time to think about what I’m going to need to get started. How about—” Her words were cut off by the sound of Aaron’s phone ringing.

  “Damn,” he muttered and then looked up at Matt and Vivienne. “Sorry. I need to take this. I’ll see you tomorrow, Viv, and I’ll see you back at the house,” he said to Matt. He walked out as he answered the phone.

  Matt took a moment and considered his options—he could stay and try to break the ice between him and Vivienne, or he could follow Aaron back to the house and do…nothing. He sighed. He seriously had nothing to do. Dammit.

  “So tell me again why you’re not unpacking anything tonight?” he asked casually, moving across the room toward her.

  Vivienne was standing next to the marble-topped island in the center of the kitchen. Matt didn’t know a whole lot about cooking, but even he could tell that this kitchen was a chef’s dream. Done in a French country decor, the cabinets were a muted green with ornate crown molding along the top. White subway tile lined the backsplash, and the white marble countertops flowed along to one of the largest kitchen sinks he’d ever seen.

  He’d heard Aaron and Vivienne talking about the stainless steel appliances and how the eight-burner stove was a thing of beauty. Matt wasn’t sure about that, but every time he caught Vivienne looking at it, she would smile and sigh happily. He shrugged. It was a stove. Why did people get emotional over inanimate objects?

  His gaze lingered on Vivienne. Now there was a thing of beauty, and he knew he had to be careful not to stop, smile, and sigh whenever he looked at her—dark eyes; long, dark, curly hair; and a curvy body he would love to explore. She wasn’t tall—well, at least not compared to his own six-foot frame, but her head came up to his shoulder. Which was the perfect height difference in his mind.

  No! he silently reminded himself. There was no thinking of Vivienne in terms of perfect. She was Aaron’s sister. Aaron—the only person in the world who seemingly cared about him and was willing to open his home up so Matt could have a haven until this whole stupid media circus was over.

  Forcing himself to focus, he realized Vivienne had been talking the entire time he’d been lost in his own thoughts. Now he had no idea why she was doing things the way she was. Great. He’d either have to pretend he was paying attention and hope for the best, or admit he hadn’t been listening and look like a jerk.

  “Matt?”

  Yeah, she knew he wasn’t listening based on the annoyed look on her face. He supposed it was better if she stayed annoyed at him and kept her distance—less likely for him to do something stupid, like make a move on her and piss everyone off.

  “Why French country?” he quickly asked.

  “Excuse me?” Her brows furrowed as she asked the question.

  “The place,” he began, motioning to the kitchen and the living area. “What made you go with French country?”

  Vivienne eyed him suspiciously. “Because I like it,” she said simply. “I think the color palette is lovely, and the textures give the place character.” She shrugged. “The cottage was a blank space, so I was able to pick out every little thing from countertops to light fixtures and paint colors.”

  He nodded and leaned against the island. “So you must enjoy cooking.”

  She seemed to relax a little, her posture a little less stiff. “I do.”

  “What’s your favorite dish to make?”

  With a nervous chuckle, Vivienne shook her head. “You don’t want to know any of this. It’s late, and I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than stand here listening to me yammer on about cooking.”

  Her laughter made him join in. “Believe it or not, I have nothing else to do.” Then he stopped and laughed a little harder. “I know that didn’t sound quite the way I meant it. I mean I would like to know about what you like to cook. Honestly, I’d like to hear all about what you’ve been up to for the last…”

  Secretly he was hoping for her to fill in the blank, and then maybe he could figure out where he’d last seen her.

  But she didn’t take the bait.

  “Twelve years?” she supplied with a grin. “That’s a lot of time to fill in.”

  “As you can tell, I’ve got nothing but time on my hands. I’m going to be living in veritable isolation for the next month so…”

  Vivienne’s expression turned serious. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “What is the big deal?”

  “I’m not sure I’m following.”

  “So you got a bad review,” she said. “So what? It happens to people all the time. Why are you taking this to such an extreme?”

  Matt sighed and looked around for someplace to sit. He might as well tell her all about it, so they wouldn’t have to tiptoe around the subject for the next month. It was either boxes or the floor, so he opted for the floor and was surprised when Vivienne came and sat beside him. She was quiet, and Matt had to figure out how to explain the whole thing without sounding like some diva having a hissy fit.

  Which is where he decided to begin.

  “This isn’t just about me getting pissy because of some bad reviews.”

  “Okay,” she said, her voice sounding completely neutral.

  He sighed and rested his head back against the wall. “I put everything I had into that show. Hell, it was my idea to begin with.”

  That seemed to take her by surprise. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “I was getting burned out touring, and I felt like the band was getting a little stagnant, and I wanted a change. Broadway seemed like a good way to go—I’d still get to perform onstage, in front of an audience, and honestly, I thought I could handle it.”

  “So what changed?”

  He gave a mirthless laugh. “Apparently I’m only good when I’m playing with the band. I was able to get through rehearsals without it being such a big deal. Everyone knew I was nervous, and I kept saying I needed the energy of the crowd to put me at ease.” He shrugged. “I guess I was wrong. It was worse once there were people in the seats. And I crashed and burned.”

  Rather than offer empty platitudes, Vivienne remained quiet.

  “When they decided to shut down the show, I was relieved. I don’t think I could’ve kept going. By the third night, I was completely freaking out.”

  “What about the previews? Don’t shows normally run for a few weeks before doing the—what’s it called?—opening night?”

  “Everyone thought it best to limit the previews because I wasn’t performing well enough. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I see we probably could have used the feedback.”

  “Would it have changed anything?” she asked carefully.

  “Probably not. I was arrogant and didn’t want to admit I was overwhelmed.” He shook his head. “I’ve performed for audiences ten times the size of that theater, maybe more, and I have never felt so completely out of my element before.”

  “They’re two completely different things.”

  Turning his head, Matt looked at her as if she were crazy.

  “It’s true,” she said. “When you play with the band, you are a unit. Sure, Riley’s the front man, but you’re all playing together. It takes the four of you to make it work. It seems to me, with the show, the spotlight was solely on you. That’s enough to freak anyone out.”

  Could it be that easily explained? “Yeah, but—”

  “So you got stage fright and you weren’t very good at acting. It’s still not enough to make you go into hiding. Or at least…it shouldn’t be.”

  He had a feeling she knew all of thi
s, but he was finding it helpful to say it all out loud. “Yeah well…I thought it was all going to finally die down—all the negative media stuff. Then someone started spouting off about how if I sucked that bad, what did it mean for Shaughnessy—the band. If I sounded that bad live, was it me singing or playing on our albums? Then it started people speculating about whether any of us in the band were playing or if we were just some hacks with no talent.” He sighed again. “That’s when Mick, my agent, finally said enough. He’s got our PR team working overtime to get people off the idea that the band is a bunch of phonies. I’m telling you, Viv, it’s exhausting.”

  “I’m sure it is,” she agreed. “So…what are you supposed to do while the PR people are doing their thing?”

  He shrugged. “Rest. Wait.” He chuckled. “I have no idea. I’ve never had to do this before. Even when we were on breaks from touring and recording and I was supposed to be on vacation, I never rested. It’s just not who I am. I hate not having a purpose. It annoys the shit out of me that I can’t do anything to make this right.”

  “Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe something will come up and take the media attention off of you and the band.”

  “That’s the thing—Riley’s got a great tour going on right now for his solo stuff, and this nonsense is marring it. He’s going on the talk show circuit, and rather than promoting his own stuff, he’s going to have to clean up my mess.”

  “What are your options? Would you want to go out there and face the media yourself?”

  Hell no. The press was brutal. There was no way he would be able to stay calm and not cause more of a PR nightmare if it were up to him to face everyone. Rather than answer her, he simply shook his head.

  “What does Riley have to say?”

  “I haven’t talked to him yet. I was planning on tackling that task tomorrow, calling him and Dylan and Julian. I should have done it a week ago but…”

  “I’m sure they’ll all understand. You’d be understanding if the roles were reversed, right?”

  Would he? Matt would like to think so, but he knew he could be a hard-ass sometimes when things didn’t go according to his plan. “Maybe. I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “We’ve never had to deal with a situation like this.”