Rocked

by Taryn Elliott

  Her eyes were puffy from either a sleepless night or a crying jag. The way she cuddled George close, he figured a mixture of both. Deacon opened his arms, and she flew across the room to him, rocking him back a step as she burrowed into him.

  “I don’t know what to do, Deak.”

  “I know. We’ll figure it out.”

  She looked up at him, lashes starred with tears and not a stitch of makeup on. Not even her contacts. She looked about twelve fucking years old. How could Nick be so heartless?

  He sighed and pressed his cheek to her hair. “We’ll make him see reason.”

  “We shouldn’t have to.” She stepped back. “Who is he to even try to say that Snake should be back in the band?”

  “The guy that started the band.”

  Jazz whirled around, but took a few steps back until she butted up against Deacon. He laid a hand on her shoulder.

  Nick’s gaze was even and his chin lifted, but he quickly dipped his hands into his pockets and stared at the floor. “Look, about last night...”

  “Yeah?” Jazz stood as tall as her five-foot frame could get.

  Simon came through the door after Nick. He had a pitch black pair of shades on his face and a large coffee in his hand. He lifted his cup. “Nick’s an asshole, and he’s sorry. Can we put it aside?” he said wearily.

  “Just like that?” Deacon folded his arms over his chest.

  Nick took a pack of smokes out of his pocket and flipped a cigarette between his fingers. Finally, he tucked it behind his ear. “I was stupid last night.”

  “You think?”

  “Aww, come on, Jazz, I was just happy to see Snake. I got a little too drunk, and the old days were too close. I started talking out of my ass.”

  Deacon frowned. “That’s a quick turnaround.”

  Nick scratched the back of his head. “Yeah well, after a few gallons of beer and a talk with Snake last night, we decided it was better if we go our separate ways.”

  Simon slapped Nick on the back. “More like we saw the light, but Nicky isn’t going to own up to that.”

  Nick wouldn’t meet Deacon’s gaze. Instead, he went into the kitchen and spun the K-cup holder until he found his preferred blend and snapped it into the Keurig. He shoved a mug under the spout and turned around. “I can’t go back to how it used to be. We can’t.”

  “Really?” Jazz sniffed. She set George on one of the stools in the breakfast nook, and tucked her arms around her stomach. “Because Snake’s not up to playing?”

  “No.” Nick came around the counter in front of Jazz. Nick dug his hand into her clamped down arms and shook her hands free. “No, because he’s not you. C’mon, you’re the Pink Power Ranger. You kick ass. We can’t replace you.”

  Jazz wrapped her arms around Nick, and Simon came up beside them to hug the two of them.

  “Such a beautiful moment,” Simon said with mock sniffles.

  “Shut up.” Jazz pushed him away. “Get off me, Super Slut.”

  “There we go, all is right with the world,” Simon said and set his coffee on the table. He uncapped the decanter and sloshed a hit into his coffee before putting the top on. “Now, I’m going upstairs to sleep and shower until our meeting. What time is Jackson coming again?”

  “Nine,” Deacon said, massaging his biceps.

  Nick shook his head. “Changed it to one.”

  Deacon frowned. “Since when?”

  “He called me this morning.”

  Simon arched his back. “I might be human by then. Wake me up at noon if I’m not moving.”

  “I’m not your fucking mother.”

  Simon walked up to Deacon and tapped him on the cheek. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  Deacon swung his head away and pushed Simon back. “Ass.”

  Simon smirked at him. “Like I’m lying.” He climbed to the first landing and met Harper. “Well, hey there, Chef Girl.” He slid his sunglasses down. “Damn, but you do fill out a concert shirt.”

  “Shut up, pig.”

  His smirk was back. He lifted his cup. “Cheers and goodnight.”

  Harper came down the rest of the stairs and stood beside Deacon. Her brows snapped down. “Is everything okay?”

  Deacon sighed. “Looks like.”

  Jazz moved around the counter to the kitchen and opened the fridge. She poured a large glass of juice. “Anyone want?”

  “Yeah,” Harper looked toward Deacon then back to Jazz before moving toward her. “I’ll have some.”

  Nick yawned and stretched. “I’m going to go do the same. Two hours of sleep wasn’t nearly enough.”

  Deacon watched him head up the stairs. That was too fucking easy. There was no way that Nick would back off of Snake after the way he was talking last night. At least, not without a fight.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Don’t you want your coffee, Nick?” Jazz called up the stairs.

  “Oh, shit. I forgot. You drink it.”

  “I don’t drink that sludge.”

  “What is it?” Harper asked.

  “Columbian Dark Roast.” Jazz stuck out her tongue. “Gross.”

  “You drink ice cream in a cup,” Nick called down. “Just dump it if you don’t want it.”

  Deacon heard Harper say she’d take it. Knowing the two women would be fine together, he took the stairs two at a time and caught up to Nick before he could shut his bedroom door. “Hey, wait a minute.”

  Nick sighed. “Do we have to have a big discussion? I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t say you’re sorry to Jazz and Gray.”

  “And you say you’re not our fucking mother?”

  “Fuck off, Nick. Last night, you were ready to throw the two of them to the wolves, and now everything is fine?” Deacon crossed the room. “You won’t even look at me.”

  Nick lifted his gaze to his. “Because I’m fucking embarrassed, all right? I wanted Snake to be our guy again, the drummer that he’d always been. He looks so good, man. Just like the guy that I started playing with in high school.”

  “But he’s not.”

  “No, he’s not. You called it. We hung last night, and it was like old times.”

  “So what made it different, then?”

  “It was almost like old times,” Nick said quietly. “He was clean, and I think he’s really going to stay clean this time. But when we started talking about the tour and the studio, he got twitchy.”

  “How so?”

  “He kept saying he was excited about it, but his voice got different and he kept talking about old times at the club.” Nick shoved his hands in his hair. “We aren’t doing twenty minute sets anymore, man. I want to give him a chance. I want it so bad, but I don’t think he’s got it anymore. That fire...it’s not there like it is with Jazz.” Nick looked at the floor, then pulled his cigarette down from his ear to play with again.

  Deacon let out a relieved breath. He’d known that for a long time. He just didn’t think that Nick would see it so quickly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why? You saw it way before the rest of us. I wish you’d told us how bad it got.”

  “Did you really want to know?”

  Nick shrugged. “Maybe not.” He put the cig between his lips then quickly behind his ear. “I need a shower and my bed for a while before I can deal with a room full of suits.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Deacon began to turn, then stopped. “I thought it was just Jackson.”

  “Right, it is.” Nick rolled his eyes and slapped the doorjamb. “But you know that Gordo will be there, too, and he’ll be up Jackson’s ass.”

  “Yeah, too true.” Deacon headed for the stairs. “All right, see you in a few hours.”

  “Hey, Deak?”

  He turned back to Nick. “Yeah?”

  “I shouldn’t have done that last night. When I took Snake home this morning, I knew it.”

  “Jazz will bounce back, and if she’s happy, Gray’s happy.”

  “Yeah.” Nic
k slapped the jamb again then closed the door quietly.

  Deacon rubbed his hands over his face. When the laughter from downstairs drifted up, he followed it down. He found a laughing Harper flipping French toast and a giggling Jazz manning a sizzling pan of bacon.

  “Smells awesome.”

  Harper looked up, her smile wide and bright. “Get over here, big guy. I made enough for even your appetite.”

  He pushed the last of his worries down and smiled back. Breakfast with two pretty girls didn’t suck at all. He’d worry about the meeting later. “We’ll see about that now, won’t we?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  September 14, 1:00 PM - It's Your Future Calling

  “Are you sure you want me to stick around? This is a band thing, isn’t it?”

  “Is there somewhere you need to be?” Deacon asked as he pulled a shirt out of his closet.

  Harper sat in the middle of his bed still wearing his t-shirt and boxers. They’d left so fast last night that they hadn’t stopped for a change of clothes for her. She curled her arms around one knee. “No. I texted Meg, and she said they’ll need me tomorrow for the final big shindig, but we’re all off today.”

  He pulled an iPad out of his bureau as well as a remote. “I don’t think the meeting’s going to last much more than an hour, and I have a feeling we’ll be celebrating afterward.” He handed both of them to her. “I hate leaving you up here, though.”

  Harper shrugged. “I’ll keep myself busy. If you’re sure.”

  He curled his arm around her back and tugged her into his arms. “I’m not giving up a moment with you.”

  Her blue eyes shuttered as she looked away. “It’s going to end sometime.”

  “Just a pause. We’re going to make this work.”

  She looked up at him. “You’re stubborn enough to make it work.”

  His chest tightened and so did his grip. “You’re damn right. No doubts already, woman.”

  “I’m realistic, but I’m willing to give this a go. For real.” She lightly scraped her nails through the hair at the nape of his neck, her voice gentle. Now who was handling who?

  “Be our chef.” The idea took hold. They were going to be going on the road again, sooner than later.

  She laughed. “You couldn’t afford me, big guy.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’m never going to be a kept woman. I earn my own way.” She stepped down from the bed and out of his arms. “Don’t ruin this.”

  He caught her hand. When she wouldn’t look at him, he drew her back in front of him. “I love you, Harper.”

  She swung away from him. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” Frustration sharpened his voice, and he forced himself to back up. “I know you don’t want to hear it.”

  “Then stop saying it. You don’t love me, you love the idea of me.”

  “Don’t tell me how I feel. You’re the one that won’t own up to it, Lawless.” He moved in front of her again. “You feel something.”

  “Of course, I feel something. You’re a sweet guy.”

  He held up his hands. “Great.”

  “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Are you sure?” How many times had he been slotted into the nice guy mold? Why did that make him less? He just never thought he’d hear those words from Harper.

  She pushed her hair out of her face. “You’re twisting my words. All I mean is that we’ve been around each other so much, and—”

  “And that just shows how well we fit.”

  “We’re convenient.”

  “You think this shit is convenient for me?” He clutched the roots of his hair at the base of his neck and pulled. “This is anything but convenient, but there it is. I can’t change it. I don’t want to change it.”

  “How do you know? You said...” She shut her eyes and bowed her head.

  She wanted to say something else. He could see it in the way she’d turned in on herself.

  “I said what?”

  She slowly tipped her head up to meet his gaze. “You said you never said those words before.” Her voice was rusty with emotion.

  “I haven’t.”

  She rubbed the heel of each hand over her eyes. “C’mon. You’re too sweet not to have had long-term girlfriends. And then there’s your mom, at the very least.”

  Deacon went still. “No. My mother never deserved those words.”

  She stumbled back a step, turning away from him, her shoulders hunched. “And I do?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” She whirled back to him. “Because we have great sex? Because we laugh at the same stupid movies?”

  “You know it’s more than that, Harper.” He walked away from her to look out the window. Fuck. He wasn’t handling this right. He knew she was going to be skittish, but Jesus. He curled his fingers into fists until his blood throbbed and his nails dug into his palms.

  “I know it’s quick, but it’s just something I know.”

  “Well, good for you.”

  He swung back to her, but there was way more than a room between them now. For fuck’s sake, she wouldn’t even look at him. All the words that he’d been choking on were jumbled in his brain. And she wouldn’t hear him. Not now, when she was ready to bolt.

  He snuck a peek at the clock and winced. He needed to be downstairs.

  “I’m trying my damnedest not to push here.”

  “Epic fail.”

  He huffed out a laugh and crossed the room. He reached for her, ignoring the way she stepped back and tried to sidestep his touch. He cupped her face and forced her to look in his eyes. “We still have time to figure out the logistics.”

  When her fingers crept over his wrists, the boulder of ice in his chest melted a little. He smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks. “Meg hasn’t called you for a new job yet.”

  “I don’t know when that will be.”

  “Good.”

  Her nails dug into his skin. “It could be tomorrow.”

  “It could be next month.”

  She blew out a breath. “You’re impossible.”

  “We’re so good together. You can’t deny that.”

  “Of course we are. But what happens when you’re in Europe touring, and I’m on a job with another band in I don’t know...Australia. We’ll be apart for months.”

  “Lots of dirty Skyping. Inventive FaceTime on our phones. Who cares? With technology, we can make it work.” He let one eyebrow raise teasingly. “I bet you’d look amazing in my laptop screen all flushed like you do when you come really hard.”

  “Deacon,” she said warningly, but he saw the pink bloom of excitement creeping up her neck. And it sure as shit wasn’t all from embarrassment.

  He moved his hands down to her waist, and thanks to her tiny frame, he was able to swipe his thumbs along the underside of her breasts, happy to see her nipples harden under the cotton. “If it was just about sex, then I could put this in a nice, little, neat box like I have in the past.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “I’m just trying to explain why it’s different. And I know you felt it last night.”

  She veiled those summer sky eyes under her lashes, and he knew he’d been on target. Last night had been very different between them, and it wasn’t just because he’d skipped the condom. They’d laid each other bare last night. And it was fucking terrifying in a way he couldn’t explain. The only thing he knew for sure is that it had cemented something deep inside of him.

  “You have an answer for everything.”

  “I have to. You have more roadblocks than Boston.”

  She laughed. “How the hell did I get involved with an optimist?”

  He leaned in, brushing his lips over hers gently. He had to stay positive or he’d go insane. “Stay,” he whispered into her mouth. “Stay with me.” A flicker of pride at the back of his head screamed that he was begging, but he didn’t care.

  Her lashes fluttered open. “Go work,”
she said against his lips. “I’ll be here.”

  He dragged her closer until she felt the length of him against her. Until she could hear his heart banging in his chest. He couldn’t force his absolute assurance onto her, but he could make sure she damn well knew he was wasn’t going anywhere.

  She inhaled as he rocked the kiss deeper. And when he tore his mouth away, she was a little dazed. Not trusting himself to behave when she had the full body flush going on, he forced himself to walk out the door.

  Once the door was shut behind him, he straightened his shoulders. He could only solve one problem at a time. And right now, his career was the only thing that made absolute sense.

  He followed the voices downstairs, buttoning his white dress shirt over his t-shirt, and the lingering erection that pushed at his jeans. He was relieved to see that everyone else was taking this just as seriously. Gray was in dress pants, dress shirt, and vest. Nick and Simon both wore new black jeans, Simon a black fitted dress shirt, and Nick a white one.

  But it was Jazz that had made the most incredible change. She’d softened her makeup and wore a purple-patterned dress and strappy heels. Her hair was still the unrelieved dark, save for one little purple strip hidden behind her ear. She looked professional and in charge.

  And when she looked up at the stairs, she met his gaze with a wink. Ahh, there she was. Still in there, just putting on a good show. Damn, that girl was a force to be reckoned with.

  Jackson Miller stood at the head of the table, five thousand dollar suit and crisp blue tie in full force. As usual, his eyes kept tripping over Jazz. Of course, he couldn’t blame him. She was stunning. And yet, it still made him slightly uncomfortable. If Jazz was a less worldly type, he knew Jackson would have had her snowed.

  Fortunately for them, Jazz was only one part wide-eyed wonder. The rest was pure, genuine love. This was her calling, and she proved it every single day. It’s what made her so alluring and such a valuable asset.

  “Finally.”

  Deacon looked down at his phone. It was exactly a minute after one. “You wouldn’t be giving me crap about being on time now would you, Simon?”