RAPT - The Price of Love: Everhide Rockstar Romance Book 3 (Everhide Rockstar Romance Series)

by Tania Joyce

  “I won’t be.” Gemma blushed under his you’re-so-mine gaze. Mmm, making love for the first time as his wife couldn’t come soon enough. But there were things to do before that. She slapped him on his ass. “You have to get going. See you in a few hours.”

  “Love you.” He kissed her forehead, grabbed his backpack and the suit he’d wear for their wedding today, and headed toward the door.

  “Love you too. Bye” She stole one last kiss before he left. She closed the door behind him and took a deep breath. Wow. In five hours, I’ll be Mrs. McIntyre. Time to kill.

  She cruised around her apartment, putting the last of the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and turning it on. Upstairs she packed a bag for her and Kyle. His second surprise for tonight. After conspiring with Bec over the phone and via email yesterday, she’d managed to book two nights at the St Regis. She’d never stayed there before and looked forward to the couple nights away with Kyle. She sifted and sorted through her wardrobe, her lingerie and makeup, undecided on what to wear. Her cell phone, lying on the bed next to her bag, rang. It was Chester.

  “Hey, are you here?” She propped her cell phone between her shoulder and ear as she threw a couple of silky shifts Kara made her buy on their last shopping excursion into her overnight bag. “You’re early.”

  “Gemma, I’m stuck in bloody traffic.” Chester voice hissed with fire. “There must be an accident. I’ve been sitting at the entrance to the tunnel for ten minutes and haven’t moved a foot.”

  Shit. Not a good day for the roads from Brooklyn to be blocked. She glanced at the clock. 11:23 a.m. Her appointment at Nina’s Bridal was in an hour. She strummed her fingers against her forehead. What to do. What to do. What to do. “Chester, that’s fine. Just meet me at Nina’s. Dylan can take me.” Her driver was more than capable.

  “Yes, I know. But—” There was that pause that Gemma hated. Made her spine stiffen. “Let me call Sam. I’ll see if he or Mick can come and get you.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” Gemma clawed her fingers in the air, so hard her hand shook. “They’re with the guys. I’ll be fine.”

  “Gemma,” Chester said in a clipped tone. “I’m calling Sam. Stay put until you hear from me or him.”

  Ergh! This was ridiculous. Before she could argue, he’d hung up.

  She stormed into her bathroom and threw hers and Kyle’s toiletries into a bag and stuffed it into Kyle’s overnighter.

  Two minutes later, Sam rang.

  “Gemma, you still at home?”

  “Yeeees.” Just like the good little girl she was supposed to be, doing what she was told. It irked her to no end. She sifted through her clothes hanging in her closet. Did she need anything else?

  “Good.” Sam’s deep voice rumbled, full of calm, composure and clarity. “I’m with Kyle, Hunter and Hayden. We’re caught in a gridlock near One World. We’re two blocks from the store. Mick had to drop his kids off at school; he’s just left Stamford. He’s at least an hour away. I’ll leave the guys, jump on the subway, and come to you.”

  Gemma gritted her teeth to stop herself from screaming. The threats had everyone on red alert. Her nerves were jittery knowing Chester wouldn’t be with her, but her pulse buzzed with excitement in anticipation of marrying Kyle this afternoon. The combination was enough to make her ill. She had to go get her dresses. It wasn’t like she was going to walk the streets by herself. “Sam. Stop. Please.” She ripped a T-shirt off a hanger and tossed it onto the bed. “I’ve talked to Chester. Dylan will take me to Nina’s. Chester will meet me there.”

  “Gemma.” Kyle’s voice shot down the phone. What did he do? Rip the phone from Sam? “Just call Nina and arrange another time before Tuesday.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  She closed her eyes, threaded her fingers into her hair and pulled. Her throat choked with frustration and disappointment. Should she tell him the truth? About the dress for today?

  No. She wanted to surprise him, see his face light up when he saw her. “I can’t.” She sank onto her bed, so over all this bullshit. “I’m not an invalid. I love you. I’ll see you soon. I gotta go.”

  She hung up and ripped on a pair of blue skinny jeans and DKNY T-shirt, ignoring Kyle’s calls. He tried five times before he stopped. Sent her ten messages before he gave up. He had to learn to trust her.

  As she loped down the stairs, the intercom rang. Dylan was here. She grabbed her purse and cell phone and headed for the foyer.

  The moment Dylan saw her, he opened the car door. She rushed outside, dashed across the sidewalk and into the back seat. She rested her head against the soft leather. Her heartbeat eased as the car took off and headed for SoHo.

  Everything was fine.

  Everyone had to stop fucking worrying.

  ***

  At Nina’s, Gemma stood in front of the gilded mirror in the huge private dressing room. Nina peered over the rim of her gold-winged glasses, examining her beautiful creation. The wedding dress was gorgeous. Just what Gemma wanted. Luxurious, silky, sexy, and stunning. But the Swarovski straps were too long and kept falling off her shoulders.

  Nina, with little white gloves on her hands to protect the delicate fabric, grabbed her pins and made the alteration. “Have you got half an hour? I’ll take them up for you straight away. Save you coming back. You can wait in our lounge.”

  Gemma glanced at her watch. 12:45 p.m. Two hours to go. She’d gotten here a touch early, but could she wait, get home, change, and still make Richard’s by three o’clock?

  Yes. Plenty of time. It only took ten minutes to get home. Chester still hadn’t arrived. Dylan was waiting down the street by the park for her call to pick her up. “Sure. I’ll wait.”

  “Excellent.” Nina unzipped the dress and pulled it over Gemma’s head.

  As Gemma dressed into her jeans and T-shirt, her cell phone buzzed with a message from Kara.

  Still in meeting. Sooo long. But good.

  Won’t make it to your place. Sorry ☹

  Meet you at Richard’s.

  Damn it. Gemma wouldn’t be able to get ready with her bestie. That sucked. She texted back, her fingers flying across the screen.

  OK. See you there. xG

  Gemma pulled on her Vans and her mind wandered to her plans for tonight. The St Regis Hotel. A superb way for her and Kyle to spend their legal wedding night. Luxurious comfort. Fine champagne and food. A little indulgence never went astray every now and then. But Gemma wanted to add to it. She wanted to get Kyle a gift. Leonard’s, the jeweler they often borrowed items from for gala events and award shows, or grabbed the odd birthday gift from—was three shops from Nina’s. She could duck in there while she waited and pick up something for Kyle. He’d eyed a titanium chain bracelet and a wide white-gold ring when they’d gone there to choose their wedding bands. Hell, maybe she’d just buy him both.

  Yep. Do it.

  She had time.

  “Nina, I’m just going to Leonard’s and back. Fifteen, twenty minutes tops.”

  “Actually Gemma . . .” Nina held her phone in one hand reading the screen as she hung Gemma’s gown onto the change room hook. Gemma’s other dress for today, the elegant, cream, Audrey Hepburn Breakfast-at-Tiffany’s-style number, hanging on the dressing room door, was ready to go. It had fit perfectly when she tried it on before her wedding dress. “I’ve just got an urgent message from my daughter’s school. My daughter is ill and I need to go collect her. Why don’t you take the other dress now and come and pick this one up tomorrow? I don’t want to do a rush job.”

  “Can you make it first thing Monday? I’m busy this weekend.” Busy ravishing Kyle. Coming back on Monday was a small inconvenience, but it would work.

  “Absolutely. I open at ten.” Nina scooped up Gemma’s dress for today.

  “Done.”

  Gemma grabbed her purse and followed Nina out of the private dressing room, down to the ground floor.

  While Nina placed Gemma’s dress in
to a garment bag, Gemma crossed the showroom that overflowed with wedding gowns on racks, and blinging tiaras and sparkling shoes displayed on glass shelves. She hesitated by the front door.

  Going to Leonard’s isn’t foolish, is it?

  It’s three shops away.

  Who could possibly know she was here?

  She glanced out at the quiet cobblestoned street lined with trendy renovated apartments with fire-escape stairs zigzagging up the fasciae and half-filled, ground level retail spaces on the other side. The odd person with their head down, eyes glued to their cell phone, scurried past the shop’s entrance. No one seemed to be standing around, staking out the place. There were no paparazzi in sight.

  Chester hadn’t turned up, so she gave him a quick call. “How’re you traveling?”

  “I’m still stuck outside the tunnel. A mass collision has all lanes blocked. It should be clear soon. Where are you?”

  “I’m just finishing up at Nina’s.” She scanned the street, taking in the parked cars and vans. Nothing looked suspicious. “I’m going to Leonard’s Jewelers; it’s only a couple of shops down. I’ll be quick.”

  “What? Wait. Where’s Dylan?”

  “He’s waiting down the street. I said I’d phone him when I was ready to go.”

  “Call him to go with you.”

  She checked up and down the street. “There’re no free car parks outside. Leonard’s is really close. I’ll be fine.”

  “Gemma . . . ” She could hear a gravelly scalding in his tone. “Fine. But don’t go anywhere else.”

  “I won’t. Just meet me at my place. I’ll see you there.”

  She dropped her cell phone into her purse and pulled out her baseball cap. She jammed it onto her head and tugged it down low. Next, she slid on her sunglasses. Wiping her clammy palms on her jeans, she was set.

  I got this. Leonard’s, then home. Done.

  After Nina handed her the dress, Gemma took a big deep breath, pushed open the glass door and walked out onto the street. She hugged the gold garment bag close to her chest, kept her head down and hurried along the sidewalk.

  She made it ten yards.

  Ooph. She crashed hard into someone in front of her. Shit. Her heart clambered to her throat. Gemma hadn’t seen them. Too busy looking at the ground, trying to ignore the niggling nerves gnawing like a rat at the base of her neck.

  “I’m sorry,” Gemma apologized and went to weave around the woman, but she didn’t let her past. She stepped in front of Gemma and blocked the way.

  Zipping her lips together, Gemma looked up, ready to mouth off at whoever it was. But instead she gaped; mouth and eyes wide. She struggled to comprehend who stood before her dressed in black jeans, a big black hoodie and an oversized floppy black felt hat.

  “Vicki? What the fuck?”

  Chapter 14

  “You scared the crap out of me. Why aren’t you at work?” Gemma’s heart beat like Led Zeppelin’s Bonham on the drums. She grabbed Vicki by the arm, drew her out of the way of pedestrians, and stood with her by the brick wall of a vacant shop.

  “I’m sorry.” Vicki’s hand shook as she toyed with her earring. “I’m meeting my brother. He’s late.” She kept her head low, but Gemma, being short, could see her eyes were red, like she’d been crying. Vicki’s face was flushed, no doubt from being too hot in her thick clothing—it was a warm day, a hoodie wasn’t necessary. Gemma kept glancing up and down the street, her eyes catching for the briefest second on two men standing by a tree fifty yards away, having a cigarette.

  Time to get off the sidewalk. But what had made Vicki upset? She clearly wasn’t herself.

  “Hey.” Gemma stepped closer. “Is everything okay?”

  Oh, wow. Gemma caught sight of a few fine strands of Vicki’s hair sticking out from underneath her floppy hat. “You dyed your hair? Black?”

  Gemma reached out to touch a strand, but Vicki hit her hand away. “It was time for change.”

  Screeeeech.

  A cab slid to a halt at the nearby traffic lights. Its horn blasted and echoed off the buildings. Gemma’s pulse shot shockwaves through her head. She placed her hand on her chest to steady her heartbeat. Looking over Vicki’s shoulder, Gemma saw a couple people cluelessly jaywalking across the road, the cause of all the commotion. Shit! She had to stop being so on edge. Especially now she was with Vicki.

  As a puff of smoke filled the air with the foul stench of burned rubber, Vicki yanked her purse high on her shoulder. “You want to know what’s wrong? Everything. I got fired from my job. Life is shit. I never get a break. I’ve had enough.”

  “You lost your job?” Gemma jaw dropped. Vicki had worked as the receptionist at the same office equipment company since high school. “What happened?”

  “As if you’d care.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “No. You. Don’t.” Vicki spoke through tight lips. She tugged on the cord of her hoodie, twisting and twirling it around her finger until the tip of her pointer turned blood-angry red.

  Gemma adjusted her bags and pushed her sunglasses higher on her nose. “I understand you’re upset. I’m really sorry, but I don’t have much time. Can we catch up soon? Um . . . I’m not sure when.” Fuck, she was the worst friend in the world, but she had to go get married.

  Vicki folded her arms and tucked her clenched fists under her armpits. “Why . . . why did you cancel tomorrow night’s show? Why did you do that? Why?”

  Gemma straightened her shoulders. She hadn’t seen Vicki this upset in years. “Um. We had to. Management thought it best; security was an issue. And now, more important things have come up.”

  “Like what? Your wedding?”

  “Yes. But I didn’t know you wanted to come and see us perform. You should’ve let me know. I could’ve got you passes. We’re not playing back here ’til December.”

  Vicki grit her teeth and seethed. “I can’t wait that long.”

  “Wait for what?” Gemma jerked her chin back.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Vicki closed her eyes and swayed her head side to side. Then she froze. Her eyes fixated on Gemma’s dress bag. “Oh. My. God. Is that . . . your wedding dress?”

  “No. No. It’s a dress for something else.”

  Vicki mumbled under her breath, but Gemma couldn’t make sense of what she’d said. Then, it was as if the wind suddenly changed direction and a new Vicki appeared. She softened her gaze and her voice took on a pleading tone. “I’ve had a really rough day. I could use a friend right now. I know you’re busy, but would you have time for a quick drink? I’d really appreciate it.”

  Oh no. The mood swings. The haze in Vicki’s eyes. Damn it. Was Vicki on something? Or were Gemma’s nerves playing havoc with her head? She should make sure Vicki was okay. She twisted and fidgeted with her watch. 12:56 p.m. “Um . . . I actually want to go into Leonard’s. Come with?”

  “Noooo. No shopping,” Vicki’s hand trembled as she scratched her chin. “I really want a drink.”

  Gemma’s mind swirled. Did she have time? As long as she was home by one forty-five, she’d be fine. Alcohol might do them both some good, take the edge off wired emotions. She gave a nod and held up a finger. “It has to be quick. One drink. And one drink only.” She didn’t want to turn up to get married off her face.

  “That’s all I need.” Vicki’s tone grated with a sharp edge. But she’d just lost her job; she had every right to be snarky. She waved up the street. “There’s an old sports bar over there. Will that do?”

  Gemma could see the sign, diagonally across from the traffic lights. She took a deep breath and looked around. Nothing suspicious. No obvious paparazzi.

  Vicki tilted her head. “Where’s Chester?”

  “He’s stuck in traffic. Dylan’s down the road waiting for me.”

  “Cool.” She shrugged and took a step in the direction of the bar. “Come on Gem, please?”

  One drink. Kyle’s present. Home. “Fine. Let’s go.” She was with a frie
nd, she was safe, she’d text Dylan when she got to the bar.

  Walking along the street, Vicki hobbled beside her.

  “What happened to your foot?” Gemma asked.

  “Oh, it’s nothing. I tripped on the stairs at home.”

  “Lucky the bar isn’t far.”

  The bright blue sports bar on West Houston Street was surrounded by the back ends of other buildings and a closed pizza shop. It wasn’t on the busiest of intersections for foot traffic. Gemma walked inside and pulled off her sunglasses. The onslaught of sports commentary blaring from the huge TV screen mounted behind the bar battered her eardrums. Other TV screens hanging on the walls displayed different sports. Old chipped and stained wooden tables and chairs were scattered randomly around the two small open spaces. Despite the bar’s abundance of screens, it held a ton of old New York charm—mirrored shelves behind the bar were lined with copious bottles of liquor, warm lighting lit the room and rustic dark wood beams ran across the ceiling.

  The stench of beer and deep-fried food hung in the air like a dangling carrot. Gemma salivated. Her belly grumbled. After all, it was lunchtime. But there was no time for food; she’d grab something to eat at home.

  A couple of men in construction gear sat at the counter, eating loaded fries and having a beer. One barman loitered behind the serving area, his eyes on the big screen, watching football. He didn’t even notice they’d walked in. Otherwise, the place was empty.

  Vicki waved toward the pale red booths to the right. “Let’s sit over there. I know you want to avoid fans and the paparazzi like the plague, right?”

  Gemma grimaced. That was only half true. She didn’t like paparazzi or being harassed by fans in her free time. But for work, singing, performing and promoting their music? That was a different story. Now wasn’t the time to argue. “Thanks.” Gemma nodded her head toward the bar. “Let me grab you a drink. What will it be?”

  “No. No. I asked you. My treat,” Vicki insisted and scurried over to the bar.

  Gemma slid into the farthest booth, hung her dress over the seat, and plonked her purse beside her. Running into and seeing Vicki so upset and acting weird concerned her; she needed to be there for her. This just had to be a super quick I’m-here-for-you chat.