by Cari Quinn
Lila shook her head, imagining the telltale glint in her best friend’s eyes. “That’s just the problem. The guy does not understand my signals anymore. Or he pretends he doesn’t.”
“Uh oh. How bad are we talking?”
“So bad that I’m standing here in a garter belt and hose, with smoky eyes and half curled hair, trying to make myself appealing enough to entice my husband.” She sighed as Margo began to reply. “Look, I know you’re going to say that’s ridiculous. In my head, I’m perfectly aware that sometimes the bed gets cold for reasons that have nothing to do with sporadic shaving or unsexy underwear. But I can’t fix those things when I don’t know what he’s thinking.” She took a breath. “I can’t do a proper smoky eye either, apparently.”
“So you’re planning a guerilla-style attack. I gotta say I like it. When? Tonight?”
“No. Not tonight. The girls are here. If I attacked while they’re around, it would probably have to be a quickie, and screw that. I’m overdue for a longie and then some.”
“Damn straight. So when?”
Lila fiddled with the zipper of her makeup bag. “I was thinking of booking a block of suites for you guys for the night of the Christmas Eve show at The Greek at Berkeley. It’s not that far away, but even that much distance gives us room to be us again. It’s just weird trying to have sex when your babies are fighting over their dolls down the hall.”
“I can only imagine. Luckily, George only screams for her dinner, and she hasn’t figured out how to turn the doorknob if we lock her out of the bedroom.”
Lila laughed, imagining Simon and Margo’s cat trying to sneak into their room. “Yeah, I expect Charlie to start picking locks any day now.”
“Just like Daddy.”
“You know it. So do you think that’s a good idea?”
“The after-concert hotel bang? Oh yeah. After a performance is the perfect time to descend on him. We all get so amped after a show that we’re revved for hours.”
“I remember,” Lila said more than a little wistfully.
“Trust me, this will work. You’re going to vamp it up. Completely shed your Mommy persona for a night. Not that there’s anything wrong with your Mommy persona,” Margo added.
“It’s just not particularly sexy. I get it. Tell me, why are women primed to get aroused by a man diapering a baby, but the opposite basically shuts down all entrances to the sex highway?”
“Because women are smart enough to realize survival of the species is important?”
“Yeah. Also, ovaries. They’re to blame for a lot of this.”
“Truth. I’m glad mine are encased in titanium.”
“Sure they are.” Lila snorted. “As far as the vamping thing, yes, as much as I can.”
“Forget sexy hose. Go for fishnets. And stiletto heels. And some tiny nightie with a Wonderbra that shoves your boobs up to your chin.”
“That I can do. Thong or sexy panties? I went with black lace to go with the garters, but now I’m thinking maybe I should go for something a little dirtier. Maybe?” Lila huffed out a breath and leaned over to study her attire from every angle. She didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. “God, I don’t know.”
“Hmm.” Margo paused, clearly thinking it over. “I’d go with crotchless ones. Easy access and all, yet serious eye-appeal.”
“Crotchless? Me?”
“Babe, you’ve told me some of the things you and Nick have done,” Margo said drily. “You can rock crotchless panties. I’m sure of it.”
Lila fought a flush. “Yes, but that was before.”
“BC? Before children? Or before your birth control worries killed your sense of spontaneity?”
“I’m not worried. At all. I’m as unworried as a woman of reproductive age could possibly be. So there.”
Margo chuckled. “Good. Because I was about to whip out the big guns. You know, the ones where I said that I was pretty sure you weren’t afraid of having more twins.”
“I’m not?”
“You’re afraid of not doing it all perfectly. Of not balancing everything so effortlessly in heels that you show up all the rest of us. Because, seriously, sister, it gets annoying. Wear flats and fuck up once in a while, okay? We’d all appreciate it.”
Lila grinned. “Thank you. You always know just what to say, even if it’s so not true.”
“Best friend prerogative. So tell me the plan.”
The plan. Right.
She could do this. Surely she could.
“So I thought we could, um, role play a little. Like I’d be a naughty fan, and he would be the dirty rockstar.”
“Which he is.”
“God, I hope he remembers how.”
Margo laughed so loud that Lila had to tug the phone away from her ear. But at least she was smiling now.
There was nothing quite like having a girlfriend to chat with.
“But it’s gotta be a secret I’m going to be there. No one can know.”
“So you really want to ambush him after the show, huh? Nice.”
“Yes, in the hotel room. I’ll be lying in wait. I don’t want the band to see me in leather and fishnets, you know? It’s not the right presentation considering my role.”
Margo laughed again. “Oh, Li.”
Lila wrapped a wilted curl around her fingers. “I was also thinking of maybe dyeing my hair. Something fun and different. To go along with the whole fan thing. To make it real.”
Like I’m someone else, just in case the real me isn’t that exciting to him anymore.
Nope. No more psychoanalysis. Moving on.
“Oh yes. Red?”
“Red,” Lila confirmed.
“Fucking hot. I can’t wait to see you as a redhead. You’re going to kill him. Absolutely kill him.” Margo clapped. “I want pictures.”
“Of his dead body?”
“That has definite possibilities, but I meant you in total bad girl mode.”
“We’ll see. I’ll take them, and if I’m successful, you’ll get them. If not, I may just get in bed with you and Simon and make Nick sleep alone.”
“Nah, we’ll send Simon to his room and have a sleepover. Screw boys.”
Lila sighed. “Trying to here.”
“I have faith in your seduction skills. So much faith, in fact, that I request soundproof rooms.”
“Ha. Good call, because you know you’ll be right next door.”
“Figured. Ideal spot for commiseration. Or gloating.”
“Yeah, well, you’ll be doing some gloating of your own, I’m sure.”
“Now that you’ve reminded me of the joy of crotchless panties, I’m thinking so.”
Lila chuckled until the sound of the front door opening—and deep male laughter—made her fumble the rest of her makeup into her bag. “Dammit, gotta go,” she said in a stage whisper. “About to be caught smoky-handed. Can’t reveal the secret plan now. Talk later?”
“Uh, sure. Okay. Yeah, bye.”
Lila barely heard the click before she grabbed Nick’s ratty plaid bathrobe off the hook on the back of the door. She shrugged it on, tightly tying the belt. All she had on was a push-up bra, lacy panties, and hose, for fuck’s sake, and she didn’t have time to get out of the garters before Nick made it down the hall. He always aimed for the bathroom first.
Who did he have with him? Sounded like Gray, Oblivion’s rhythm guitarist.
She’d made it halfway out of the bathroom with her beauty accoutrements under her arm when she remembered her makeup. Shit.
She darted back to the sink, dropped her makeup bag, curling iron, and hairbrush, and grabbed her jar of cold cream. The cold cream she’d forgotten to take with her.
The criminal always left evidence at the scene of the crime. That was how they got caught.
Not this time.
She scrubbed at her now blotchy under eye area. No way, no how was she going down like this. She was going to have this makeup off her face in under thirty seconds flat.
She swept out of the bathroom and into the connecting master bedroom as chants of “Daddy! Daddy!” rang out down the hall. Avery still struggled with the word, so it sounded more like “Dabby,” but close enough.
Despite everything, Lila had to smile. Her girls loved their father. So much.
“Where are my two favorite pirates? I don’t see you. Are you hiding from me?”
“Here! We’re here!” Immediately, squeals and giggles erupted.
Lila could imagine Avery holding up her arms to be picked up from their playpen while Charlie jumped up and down, too impatient to wait. She’d just climb up her father all on her own.
“Except I don’t see you. Where oh where could you be?” Nick lowered his voice and said something Lila couldn’t quite make out, though she rushed to the bedroom door and pressed her cheek to it in order to aid her eavesdropping.
More muffled talking, and laughter that definitely sounded like Gray’s. And her girls.
But no Nick.
She strained on her tiptoes, trying to get as close as possible to the door. Stupid heels.
Her eyes popped wider. Oh fuck, her hooker heels.
The door opened, and Lila barely managed to cling to the doorknob to keep from pitching forward.
Nick stared at her, as did Gray. Not to mention her wide-eyed babies in their pastel color-coordinated footed pajamas. Her husband had balanced one tiny blond girl on each hip, and the twins were studying their disheveled mother with rapt fascination. A set of blue eyes similar to Lila’s and a set of golden ones similar to Nick’s peered up at her, clearly questioning what she was doing.
Lila had no answer. All she knew was her plan was about to explode in front of her face before she’d even gotten to pull—or stroke or suck—the trigger.
“There’s Mommy,” Nick said, sliding his gaze over Lila from head to toe as if he knew her every secret. “Wonder what she’s been up to?”
Chapter 2
His wife looked guilty. Seriously guilty. She also looked as if she’d been crying. Or had collided face-first with a brick wall, then stopped to use it as a loofah.
Nick was pretty sure that was what she called that dopey poufy thing she wouldn’t let him touch in the shower.
Then there was the matter of her mouth. It looked…well, well-fucked. He knew for a fact that could not be so since his cock was still in his jeans, and anyone else who stepped foot in his house seeking that kind of action was looking to lose a dick.
“What are you doing here?” Lila demanded, shoving back a handful of curls from her face.
Since when did Li have curly hair? He wasn’t the most observant guy, but even he knew the texture of his wife’s hair.
Usually.
He cocked a brow. “I live here, in case you’ve forgotten. Did we interrupt something?” His other brow rose to join the first as he took in her attire—his beat-up old robe and a pair of sexy shoes.
Hmm.
Before she could reply, he lowered himself carefully into a crouch, making sure he had a good hold on his girls. They giggled, thinking he was probably going to toss them into the air or something as he usually did. Instead, he murmured to Avery, “hang on.”
She clutched his T-shirt with both chubby hands, her blue eyes huge.
Whip-fast, he reached out to haul up Lila’s bathrobe, revealing the seductive, ankle-wrapping, strappy heels she wore beneath. She gasped, but he paid her no mind.
“Ah ha,” he muttered.
“What do you mean ‘ah ha’?” Lila’s voice sharpened. “Like you know anything.”
He rose to his full height and loomed over her, leaning forward until the girls grappled to hold on to him. “Oh, I know plenty, woman. I know everything that goes on in my house. Or I will.”
Lila sniffed. Actually sniffed at him. “Is that so?”
“Oh, it’s so. It’s so so that you better start talking.”
The flash in her eyes might’ve hardened him to stone, if not for the fact he had two squirming, wiggling toddlers attached to his torso like Velcro. “I didn’t realize I was under interrogation.”
“Guys, maybe I should just go—” Gray began.
Nick stepped closer to Lila. “Interrogation, is it? That’s what we’re calling it when I ask my wife a simple question?”
She crossed her arms. “I didn’t hear any questions. I saw a lot of huffing and puffing, followed by way too many assumptions.” When Charlie started to fuss, Lila immediately stretched out her arms to her baby.
“Come here, sweetheart.”
Nick felt like an asshole for leaning just out of Lila’s reach, but he did it anyway. Charlie knuckled her eye and held on. “You don’t know what I’m assuming.”
“I do,” Gray said from behind Nick.
“Who asked you?” Nick asked over his shoulder.
“I told you I could leave.”
“There’s no reason to. After my wife and I finish this perfectly reasonable conversation, we’ll go into the studio and work on ‘Knife’s Edge’ just as we planned.”
“Perfectly reasonable. Right. Okay. Well, let me just take these two little princesses down the hall for a snack.”
With the ease of a man who had two toddlers of his own, Gray pried Avery and Charlie off Nick’s hips. Nick considered arguing, but decided it was probably for the best.
Their daughters didn’t need to hear them arguing. Though they weren’t, exactly.
Not yet.
“PBJ,” Avery said succinctly to Gray, who nodded as he toted them down the hall.
“Think we can handle that.”
“Only the natural organic peanut butter,” Lila called after them. “The jar of Jif is for the dog.”
“Got it,” Gray responded.
“There is nothing wrong with Jif,” Nick said under his breath. “Klepto isn’t the only one who eats it, I’ll have you know.”
Lila ignored him, waiting until Gray and the girls descended the stairs to the first level before pouncing. “I know we don’t talk that much anymore, but really, Nicholas? Really? You automatically jump to conclusions and think I’ve, what, stashed some stranger in the bedroom while my daughters are asleep? Seriously?”
The mere idea made his brain seize up. “No, I did not think that, because you are not a stupid woman. And if I found some dude bare-assed in my house, there isn’t a way in hell you could work your PR magic to keep me from getting a murder charge.” He got right in her face, relieved and turned on as fuck when she got right back in his.
Just like the old days.
He flexed his fists. “Gladly getting a murder charge, babe. Gladly.”
“Oh right, because you care so much about the action I’m getting. Or not getting.” She whirled around, tossing a cascade of heavenly-scented blond curls in his face.
Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, hauling her back against him in a swift move.
Jesus, the way she felt against him. He couldn’t breathe from the sheer rightness of having her curvy body nestled against his for the first time in what felt like forever.
Sex wasn’t what it used to be between them. Oh, it was still good, and he couldn’t claim he didn’t still get off, but the days of wild quickies against the wall just because had gone the way of bottled milk and Wild Kratts.
He wouldn’t change any of their life for anything, but still, just for a second, he couldn’t help lowering his mouth to her hair and remembering.
The first night he’d kissed her, hauling her halfway across her desk at Ripper Records. They’d been pissed at each other then too.
How she’d sought him out later that night, surprising the
hell out of him by making the drive to his vacation cabin to follow-through on his suggestive command that she come to him.
She’d come all right. Over and over. So had he.
“You’re shaking,” he said, shock thickening his voice.
“Maybe I’m cold. You ever think of that? This mangy old robe has so many holes in it that I could’ve caught a draft—”
He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
Rather than the acceptance he’d assumed she would give him, she pushed at his arms and spun away to stare at him. “Really? Now you’re sorry? You were so mad at me a minute ago, and now what, I get an apology and that’s it?”
He frowned and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Aren’t I supposed to apologize for being an asshole?”
“No. That’s what other husbands are supposed to do. The man I married—whom I was perfectly happy with, thank you very much—is supposed to keep antagonizing me until we’re both so frustrated and angry that we—”
Stepping forward, he gripped her chin. “Fuck it out?”
She pressed her lips together and nodded.
For a minute, he actually considered just picking her up and tossing her on the bed. That Gray and their girls were in the kitchen be damned.
But he couldn’t do it. Not when Lila’s eyes were puffy and red, and he didn’t know if that was because she was exhausted or not feeling well, or hell, maybe she’d even been crying. He just didn’t know, and he hated the gulf he felt widening between them. For a while, he’d thought he was the only one who noticed the distance, but she’d just mentioned it too.
“Why don’t we talk much anymore?” he asked quietly, and she turned her head toward the window. Away from him. “Why do you look like you’ve been in here crying, but you’re wearing the hottest fucking shoes I’ve ever seen under my old robe that you normally can’t stand to touch?”
Surprise flickered across her beautiful features. “What do you mean?”
“It’s like everything in that bathroom. You hate how I’m all over it. Infiltrated all the places that should be tidy and under control.” He let his hand drop from her chin, nearly wincing at the accusation in her gaze. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”
