Convincing Paige to let go of some of hers, however, required some convincing.
Why it was so important to him for her to come away with him for the weekend he couldn’t say. Obviously, Vivienne was going to be there and Riley mentioned Savannah was going with him as well. Julian and Dena were once again on the outs, so he was going to be flying solo for the weekend but didn’t seem bothered by the fact that the girls were going to be with them.
Plus, Dylan wanted to see how Paige interacted with the band—with his life.
Right now, things were kind of safe. He was in a good place in the public eye, and he didn’t have anything going on other than the work with Literacy Now. What he wanted to know was how she would see him when he was working apart from her and if she clicked with the guys and their wives.
“I don’t understand,” she had said when he first brought up the trip. “You want me to go with you to…hang out with Matt’s and Riley’s wives? Why?”
He shrugged. “For starters, I thought it would be nice to get away for the weekend. I know it’s not anything glamorous but…”
“You know I don’t care about that stuff, right?” she quickly interrupted. “You know I’m not spending time with you so you can spend money on me and show off, right?”
Clearly, he’d struck a nerve, but he put it aside. Taking her hand in his, he caressed her wrist. “Paige, I know you’re not like that and I didn’t mean to imply you were. This is important to me. I’ve missed seeing them and they’re all in good places in their lives right now, happy, and…I am too. And I have you to thank for that. So I had hoped you’d want to go with me and see how I am with the guys.”
She smiled slowly and sweetly, and even blushed. “I don’t want to distract you while you’re there. You only have a weekend, and it’s been so long since you’ve been together. I don’t want to be in the way and…” She paused. “You know what? Never mind.”
“No, no, no. Come on. Finish what you were going to say,” he urged.
Looking up with him behind those big glasses, he could see her insecurity. A heavy sigh preceded her words. “I don’t want to be there and then not see you the entire time because you’re playing with the band. Savannah and Vivienne know each other. I’m sure they’ve become friends, and I’m not…I’m not comfortable being dropped in a group of strangers. Especially not for an entire weekend. I’m sorry.”
That night, he’d let it go. He didn’t comment on what she’d shared, but he also knew he’d bring it back up and turn her to his way of thinking.
Which he was starting right now.
The knock on his door told him she was here. No matter how many times he tried to give her the room key, she declined. Part of him respected that, but it really ticked off another side of him. He let her in and greeted her with a kiss that was borderline erotic, and when he felt her melt against him, he knew their night was off to a great start.
“Wow,” she sighed when he lifted his head. “I really like when you do that.”
He couldn’t help but smile as he stroked her cheek. “That’s good because I really like doing it.”
He let her go and led her into the living room. He’d ordered room service, and all her favorite snacks were laid out on the coffee table. He watched as her eyes went wide when she spotted them.
“Oh my goodness! What have you done?” she asked with awe.
“Well, I didn’t feel like going out tonight. I thought we might stay in, watch a movie and relax.”
The smile she rewarded him with told him he’d made the right decision. “That is perfect. I had the worst day and…let’s just say this is exactly what I needed.” Then she reached down and snagged a devil’s food cake pop.
And when she moaned, he wondered if he could possibly wait to take her to bed or if it would be okay to strip her and take her against the couch.
“I know that look,” she said with a laugh. “Don’t even think about interrupting snack time!”
“Who, me?” he asked innocently.
“Yes, you. If you’re going to put out cake pops and cookies and…” She gasped. “Nachos! You got nachos! You’ll have to wait your turn, buddy. The first orgasm tonight will be compliments of the queso.”
He couldn’t help it—he cracked up. He loved how this girl was not shy about her food and could put him in his place so perfectly. Hell, he’d gladly let the food serve as foreplay, because he knew when he did finally get her stripped down, it would be that much sweeter because of the anticipation.
She sat and Dylan walked over to the minibar and grabbed them each something to drink. He had water but he knew Paige preferred to have a cola with her nachos.
A man knew when to pay attention, and Dylan learned early on that food was to Paige what flowers were to some women. So he made notes of all her favorite combinations, and this was one of them.
He handed her the drink and sat beside her and helped himself to some of the nachos. “So why was your day so bad? What happened?”
“There’s a new client at PRW. He’s an artist looking for a firm to get him some exposure for his work. I don’t think he needs PR as much as he needs an agent, but my father is trying to think of how we can do both for him, and it was exhausting to listen to. For the first time in my history with the firm, I did not want to be assigned a project.”
“So how did you get out of it?”
Delicately, she licked some excess cheese from her lips and grinned at him. “I told him I was going to be traveling with you and didn’t have the time.”
Bingo! And just like that, he knew she was on board. There was no way she’d lie to her father about something like this, so Dylan was now freed up for the rest of the night. Seduction would be for seduction sake and no ulterior motives.
Then he felt guilty for having them in the first place.
Clearing his throat, he asked, “So you’ve reconsidered going with me?” Dylan needed her to be clear on this—that she was serious and not just using him for an excuse.
Paige nodded. “The more I thought about it the more I knew I’d regret not going with you. I’m excited about you getting to see your friends and playing and…I have to admit, the fangirl in me wants to meet them.”
He grinned. “I thought you said when we met that you weren’t really a fan?”
Her blush was instantaneous. “Well…once I started…you know…researching who you were, I started listening to the music and I got hooked.”
Sitting back a bit, Dylan stretched his arms along the back of the sofa as his chest puffed out with pride. “Damn right you got hooked. We’re awesome.”
She giggled and moved closer to him, so she could put her head on his shoulder. “Yes, you are. I was highly impressed.”
“Do you have a favorite song?”
“Oh, no you don’t. We are not going to spend the night with me praising your music and telling you how great you are. No way.”
“You may not realize it,” he said in a low, seductive voice as he cupped her cheek, “but you’re going to do that anyway—just not about my music.”
The gasp that escaped her lips was so soft and so quiet and yet so damn potent that he had to kiss her.
One of the things he was coming to learn about Paige was that she loved kissing. Like seriously loved it. No sooner had his lips touched hers than she was crawling into his lap—and that was completely fine with him. He loved having her there. It wasn’t the fast and frantic kiss like they’d shared when she first arrived, but it wasn’t any less erotic. Tongues dueling and all wet, hot need.
“Paige,” he said gruffly, kissing her throat, “if I promise to reheat the nachos, can we—”
“Yes!” she panted, rubbing up against him. “Oh God, yes.”
They sighed in unison when he reached under her skirt and found bare thighs and tiny panties.
This
girl…
* * *
Flying first class was a treat.
Having a limo pick them up at the airport was wonderful.
Sitting at a table with four of the biggest rock stars in the world was enough to make her want to throw up.
How is this my life? she wondered, and not for the first time. How did this become my reality?
Paige grew up in a wealthy and privileged home, but not where she was rubbing elbows with celebrities like this. There had been events PRW had worked on where there was a celebrity clientele, but she never interacted with them socially. And now, as she sat for dinner at Matty Reed’s house, it all hit her and was making her feel…well…sick.
“Breathe,” Dylan whispered in her ear.
“What?”
He chuckled, low and deep and sexy in her ear. “I can tell you’re tense and starting to freak out, but you need to breathe.”
Doing as she was told, Paige took several deep, cleansing breaths and tried to relax.
“Good girl.”
There was talking going on all around them, and she turned to Dylan and gave him a weak smile. “I’m so nervous.”
“Don’t be. Everyone here is a friend. Remember that. You don’t have to think of something witty to say to impress them. Just be yourself, okay?”
She nodded but didn’t feel any better than she had a minute ago.
“You’re not breathing again,” he said softly.
“I’ve heard a lot of great things about PRW, Paige,” Riley said, and all other conversation stopped while everyone looked at her. Her stomach churned and she was thankful for Dylan’s hand on her knee. The gentle squeeze reminded her to breathe. “How long have you been with them?”
Paige gave the basic history of the company her father started and how she’d been working in various positions there since she was a child. “I’m finally on the executive floor,” she added with a smile.
“My sister is doing PR work,” Riley went on. “She lives up in Washington State, with her husband. He’s an artist. She runs a gallery in Seattle but does work with several other artists and sets up events and gallery showings for them. She’s solo for now, but I know she’d love to branch out a bit.”
“What type of art does her husband do?” Paige asked.
“He’s a wood sculptor, and brilliant with it, actually,” Riley went on.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Savannah added. “I’m telling you, I first met Ben about five years ago—I interviewed him for a magazine. He was a young punk, but the things he could do with a slab of wood were amazing.”
“So you introduced them?” Paige asked.
“Indirectly,” Savannah said with a grin. “He needed help on a project, a coffee table book he was doing, and we sent Darcy to help him. Then they got snowed in together and…the rest is history.”
“That’s so romantic,” Paige said and hated the girly sigh that came out before she could stop it.
“Darcy’s helping me get my photos into galleries,” Vivienne chimed in with a proud smile. Paige was in awe of her beauty and grace and to hear she was an artist too was just… Wow!
“I didn’t know you were looking to do that,” Dylan commented. “Good for you!”
Vivienne thanked him. “Matt inspired me to do it. To me, it was a hobby, but he kept telling me my pictures were good enough to sell. So when we got together with Riley and Savannah about six months ago, when his whole family was celebrating—which baby was it?” she asked Savannah.
“That was Aidan and Zoe’s baby,” Savannah replied. “The first junior in the bunch!”
“That’s right,” Vivienne said. “And so sweet!”
“Aren’t all babies sweet?” Matt asked with a grin.
“Trust me,” Riley said, “not all the time!”
“Speaking from experience?” Dylan asked as he picked up his glass of water with a grin.
“I love my baby girl more than I ever thought possible, but there were times when she was an infant that I swore she was possessed or something. She would scream and cry and…” He shuddered, and Savannah swatted at him playfully.
“Stop! She was a wonderful baby!”
Riley smiled sweetly at his wife but gave all of them a look that said he was the one in the right in that discussion.
“Anyway,” Vivienne said, “we went to the baby’s christening and I met Darcy. We got to talking and she said she’d love to help me. Her sister-in-law Brooke paints, and Darcy has helped her get her paintings into galleries and boutiques up and down the southern part of the East Coast.” She shrugged and picked up her glass of wine. “She’s doing the same for me.”
“Plus,” Matt interjected, “because a lot of Vivienne’s photos are of food from her blog and magazine, Darcy managed to get some of her pictures into a couple of restaurants too.”
Everyone extended their congratulations, and conversations started up on various topics, and Paige finally felt herself relax. She watched Riley and Savannah and then looked over at Matt and Vivienne and was a bit envious of the two couples. It was obvious how in love they were, how happy, and Paige had to wonder if she would ever have that for herself. Probably not with Dylan, but…
“You okay?” he asked, leaning in close again.
“I am. Why?”
“You sighed, and it sounded like a sad one. So I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Nodding, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m fine. Just observing the dynamics here at the table, and I always get a little…”
Dare she admit this to Dylan?
“A little what?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know…a little envious. Some people make it look so easy to be with someone, to be in love and just…click. Does that make sense?”
For a minute, all he did was stare at her, and she mentally kicked herself for bringing the subject up when they weren’t alone.
He nodded and looked about ready to speak when—
“So am I the only one here who is freaking psyched beyond belief that we’re going to jam?” Riley asked the group, and everyone laughed, including Dylan.
The moment was lost and she could only hope when they were alone later, they’d both forget she’d even brought it up.
* * *
It was two in the morning when she felt the bed shift and dip as Dylan slid under the sheets beside her. They were staying in the guesthouse on Matt and Vivienne’s property, and it was lovely and private and, thankfully, only a short walk from the main house. Very convenient after she seemed to eat her weight in cakes and dessert while sitting and talking with the girls when the boys went to jam.
It didn’t seem possible that you couldn’t hear the music but…that was exactly the case. Vivienne had explained how important it was for the space to be soundproofed because she worked from home, and Matt and gone to extremes to make that happen for her.
For all Paige’s worries about being forced to hang out for hours on end with people she didn’t know and how it made her uncomfortable, it was all for nothing. Both Savannah and Vivienne were incredibly nice, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had hung out and laughed with friends like this.
Friends.
It had been a great night.
Now, as Dylan moved in close and wrapped his arms around her, she felt completely at peace. She had slept—not well, but she had slept—but she had also kept watching the clock and wondering when he was going to join her.
“Did you have fun?” she asked softly.
Kissing her temple, he replied, “I did. It was amazing. It’s like I’d been playing in a fog for so long and this? This was like the thrill I used to get when I was a teenager playing with whoever I could find to jam with.” He hugged her close. “Thank you for coming here with me.”
She looked over
her shoulder at him. “You’re welcome, but…I had nothing to do with how tonight went. You went and played music with people you know and love and are comfortable with. It must have been like coming home.”
“It was. It really was,” he said. “But…having you here makes it even better. And I don’t just mean here in the bed, although that is spectacular,” he added as he kissed and nipped at her bare shoulder.
Sighing, she rubbed her bare bottom against him. “Oh, stop. If I weren’t here, you’d probably be having a lot more fun.”
He did some rubbing of his own and then let his hands join in, cupping her breasts. “More fun than this? I don’t think that’s even possible.”
“You’d probably still be jamming instead of feeling like you had to come over here with me.” God, could she sound any more pathetic? Why did she have to—
Dylan rolled her onto her back and beneath him in the blink of an eye. “First of all, I’m here in this bed right now because I want to be, not because I feel like I have to be. Second, we jammed for four hours. I’m exhausted. My arms were killing me and I could barely keep my eyes open. We all left the studio like the walking dead. I was thankful all I had to do was cross the yard. Riley still had to drive home.”
“I hope he’s okay.”
“He’s fine. He’s only ten minutes away and he texted all of us when he got there.”
And then something hit her and she started to laugh. Only a giggle at first, but then a full-blown laugh. Dylan leaned over and looked at her like she was crazy.
“Um…what’s so funny?”
“It’s just…” Another round of laughter came out before she could contain it. “It’s a little funny because from the fan perspective, we look at rock stars as guys who would play 24/7 if they had the chance. They’re alpha men who go about their business in the most masculine way possible.” She shifted beneath him a little. “It struck me as funny how you guys were tired and dragging and then texting one another that you got home safely. It all seems very…normal. Not at all fitting with the rock-star image I had, that’s for sure.”
One More Promise Page 18
