Ah, Flip was on the stage. Good.
“Anyone seen Hayden’s girlfriend?” Flip asked. “She’s tall, dark hair, blue eyes.”
Realizing I wasn’t out to socialize, people began to step back, letting me through. Everyone craned their necks, searching for her mink-brown hair.
“Briar!” I bellowed.
I scanned the sea of bodies but kept pushing toward the exit. Ben said she was heading toward the taxi station when he’d come backstage. She might already be gone.
I was most of the way through the auditorium now. My insides curdled. She wasn’t here.
Then I saw a glimmer of that mink brown I missed so much. Yes! She walked back into the building. Her dark hair rioted around her head in thick ringlets, her long, athletic legs clad in tight jeans that showed off her trim thighs. As I got closer, her pretty pink lips parted in surprise. Her eyes were damp, the lashes clumping together.
I pushed around a guy in a hoodie and a girl in a tiny red dress and then my palms were on the soft skin of her cheeks. I bent my head, my lips settling over hers.
She opened her mouth, and her taste rushed over my tongue. I moaned, wrapping one of my arms around her hips and pulling her tight against me as my other hand speared into her hair. I kissed her and kissed her, drunk on her essence.
Finally, I was whole.
“All right now, Hayden. You have a different kind of show to put on tonight.” Flip’s voice. Through a mic. Right-o. I was on the floor of a music venue surrounded by at least two thousand people. Flip stood on the stage, smirking.
This wasn’t the place for the kind of kissing I needed, much as I wanted to continue. With one last moan, I pulled back slowly, loving the way my lips clung to hers.
“You’re here,” I said. My voice was raw, pulsing with lust.
She blinked up at me. I wiped my thumbs under her eyes, clearing away the smudged mascara.
“Supposed to be a surprise.”
I leaned my forehead against hers. “The best one.” Unable to resist, I placed a soft, chaste kiss at the corner of her mouth. She shivered.
“Ets said you were with two women,” Briar said, her voice uncertain.
“How could I be? All I can think about is you.”
I pulled back and the crowd around us roared its approval—stamping feet filled the auditorium. Some people whistled, others catcalled. I didn’t have to look to know Briar’s face was suffused in color.
“This turned out to be more challenging than I’d expected,” she said as she snuggled into my side. I smiled, everything clicking into place. This, now, this wasn’t a moment I’d forget.
“Stick with me, love. I’ll keep life interesting.”
“You always do,” she said, tipping her face back to smile at me. I kissed her again and the crowd clapped and screamed.
I glanced around, unsurprised to see reporters closing in around us. Briar raised her eyebrow a little at my gaze and sighed.
“They surrounded me,” she said.
“We didn’t get much of a story,” one of the men grumbled.
“Love doesn’t sell many newspapers,” another said.
“Why can’t someone get high? Or smash things. We need another Liam Gallagher. He was interesting.”
Briar shook her head, a wry smile flipping the corners of her mouth. “Thank God. I plan to be really boring for a long time.”
“I’m as boring and in love as they come,” I said, kissing her under her eye, in my spot.
The crowd began to roar, “Briar’s song! Briar’s song!”
The chant got louder, more demanding. I pulled her forward, toward the stage. Briar balked, shaking her head frantically, but I kept pulling her up toward the stage. I boosted her up onto the raised platform and followed. I grabbed her hand and bowed deep, laughing when Briar curtsied.
When the noise reached an even higher level, her eyes sparkled and her mouth twisted up in a mischievous grin.
“This is kinda fun,” she said.
“I’ll make a performer out of you yet.”
She rolled her eyes, the grin growing on her face. “That’s a no.”
I positioned her on the end of the piano bench, farther from the crowd. I shucked my button-down, shaking my head when Harry offered another. I threw the ripped shirt into the screaming crowd. Briar’s big blue eyes widened as I untucked my black T-shirt before sliding onto the piano bench next to her. “Never stripped onstage before,” I said with a wink. “Or played with a woman on my bench.”
She smiled, her eyes as soft as her mouth. “I missed you,” she whispered as I positioned the mic.
“The song is called ‘Between Breaths,’” I told the crowd. Picking up Briar’s hand, I pressed a kiss to her palm. “And this one’s for you, love.”
Being onstage with Briar here was a different kind of high. Flip hit his drum kit hard and I smiled. Jake raked through his chords, charging in on his bass while Ets held a long, powerful note. I leaned into the mic, singing the words I’d been holding in.
The guys revved on my energy and it spilled over into the crowd, feeding back to us. This was what a concert was supposed to be.
Chapter 40
Briar
After the song, I slipped off the piano bench and headed to the side. Hayden’s gaze followed my progress, but his fingers never missed a key or a note. I shook my head, and he winked. So I blew him a kiss.
“Sorry about earlier, Ms. Moore.” The security guard who’d taken my pass rubbed his hands over his bald head. “Hayden’s going to kill me, no doubt there. At least fire me.” He shrugged. “I didn’t recognize you.”
Nice eyes. Light brown. Not as rich as Hayden’s.
“What’s your name?”
“Ben Carr.”
I extended my hand. He took it carefully, and I knew he wondered if I’d yell or bite or something equally as horrible.
“Nice to meet you, Ben.”
His thin lips curled up, sardonic and apologetic all at once. “You don’t mean that. But I appreciate the thought anyway.”
He let go and stepped back. I realized why when I noticed Hayden glaring at him. I crossed my arm over my body, clasping my far elbow.
“Why don’t you tell me more about the situation?” I asked.
“Not much to tell. Your tag—or at least one like it—black markets for about ten G’s. The girls who get ’em think they’ll automatically get one of the guys to, er, you know, do stuff together.”
I bit back a smile. “They expect sex?”
He swallowed hard, his whole head turning red. “Most of the time.”
“So your job is to keep the groupies from the band.”
“In a nutshell.”
“I’m not a groupie,” I said.
“No, ma’am. That’s why Hayden’s going to kill me.”
“Ets said Hayden was with groupies,” I said.
Ben snorted. “Hayden hasn’t been interested in a woman since he came back from Seattle. That’s another reason why I figured your tag was black market.” He shook his head. “I shoulda realized it was you. I’m so sorry.”
I turned back to watch Hayden, relief at Ben’s confirmation easing the last of my concerns. “I’ll worry about Hayden as long as you keep the other women away from him.”
“He does a good job on his own.”
I smiled at Ben’s reply. Harry, Hayden’s manager, came over and offered to take me to the front row, but I declined. I stood there for the rest of the concert, happier each time Hayden glanced my way. The band nailed their songs, and they came off the stage euphoric.
“Best show yet!” Flip said, man-hugging Hayden, Jake, and even Ets. Jake’s smile was wide, guileless, but Ets . . . I shivered as a cobra-like darkness uncoiled in his eyes.
“Good show,” I said to Hayden.
“Better with you here.” Hayden kissed me near my eye, in that spot that drove me wild. I shivered and laid my head against his sweaty chest. He nodded his thanks when Harry ha
nded him a fresh T-shirt.
The fans were screaming, worked up into a frenzy from the last few fast-paced songs. Need filled the space, a sharp hunger for more of their talent. They’d go back out in a minute, and I’d be right there, watching and listening.
“It was excellent,” Flip agreed. “Right, Ets?”
“Like Flip said, best show we’ve put on yet,” Ets said on a sigh. “Hayden was on fire.”
“Which is why you’re not going to take his phone or try to undermine his relationships anymore,” Jake growled. “Because if you do, I’m leaving the band, too.”
“You wouldn’t,” Ets said, eyes narrowing.
“I would,” Flip said. Arms crossed over his chest, eyes dark and hard, Flip was intimidating. “Hayden’s made it clear he’s staying for us—Jake and me. So the question is, are you going to get your head out of your arse and start paying attention to the people around you?”
“Right-o.” Ets snapped his mouth shut, nodded twice. He turned to Hayden and me, took a deep breath, and met my gaze. Then he lifted his head to face Hayden.
“I was wrong. I shouldn’t have messed with your relationship or your girl.”
Something made me wonder if this was all about jealousy. No, I didn’t think so. I could tell Ets had been hurt. Badly. It was something in those blue-gray eyes.
Hayden tightened his arms around me. “You stay away from Briar. Me, too, and we’ll be fine. I told Flip and Jake I’d finish out the tour. But don’t push your luck.”
Ets dropped his head. “Got it. Let’s finish this. I need a drink.”
He walked back onstage, picked up his guitar, made faces at the audience. The consummate performer. Hayden grabbed my wrist and pulled me down a hall.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere private,” he growled.
“You have to go back on!” I struggled to keep up with his long strides. He led us to the back of the building and through the large metal entrance doors.
As soon as the doors shut behind us, his body pressed against mine. I’d missed the feel of his chest, the broadness of his shoulders, the way he pushed his thigh between my legs, pinning me in place with such ease.
“Hayden, what’s this about?”
“I told you, I have important words to say to you. I don’t want to wait. I don’t want you to doubt me. Not again.”
“What do you want to say?” I asked. I loved looking at his face. I pushed a damp caramel wave off his equally sweaty forehead.
He leaned in, pressing kisses to the tip of my nose, my jawline, below my ear. I gripped his forearms for support. “That I love you. I need you. I think about you all the time. I need to tell you about my mum. Why my dad and I left Seattle. Why I love the piano. You’re the one I want to share that with.”
“You’ll travel for your job. I don’t want you to change for me, Hayden.”
“I won’t. Not sure I could, really. But, fair dinkum, Briar, you make me want things. And whatever I have to do to make that happen, I’m all in.”
“Even with an old woman like me?” I asked. The comments about our age difference, all twenty months of it, were cruel. Toward me. I was too old for someone as attractive and talented and famous as Hayden Crewe, so said the media.
“My dad was more than thirty years older than my mum. Granted he died before her, but only by a couple years. And they didn’t have the best of relationships. Okay, they’re a bad example. But what I’m saying is relationships come in lots of different flavors. For me, you’re it. You fill me up and make me love living.”
He pressed a kiss to my nose and I smiled, snuggling my cheek into his chest. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this content. Probably because I’d been too young to remember.
“Rosie left me money. A lot of money.”
“Yeah? That’s great.”
“I want to set up a support group in Seattle for people like you—who are struggling to deal with a loved one’s death.”
Hayden nuzzled into my neck, nipping my earlobe. “You’ll be amazing at that. Suits you.”
“I can get my degree from any university, and I will, as long as I can be near you. We can talk about my plans more. Later. But I wanted you to know I don’t mind about the paparazzi as long as I get to be with you.”
“Sweet Briar, I just professed my undying love. Of course you get to be with me. Always. That’s all I want.” He stroked that callused thumb down my cheek, over my chin, resting it there, right in the small cleft. “I love you.” He leaned forward, his lips a mere breath from mine.
I slid my fingers up into his hair, tugging his mouth down to mine. “I love you, too. God, I love you so much.” And I kissed him the way I’d been dreaming about: long and deep and so perfectly slow.
“Hayden, you’re on. Oops! Sorry, mate,” Harry’s voice was sheepish. “You gotta get back out there.”
Hayden’s arms slid from my shoulders, down to my waist, farther down to my butt, which he cupped in both his hands. “I will. When I’m finished kissing my girlfriend.” He glanced at Harry. “Go away.”
“They’re all waiting for you.”
Hayden leaned in, his lips a whisper over mine. My head shifted back, giving him better access.
“No running off with one of the roadies while I’m singing for my tea.”
I frowned. “I’m pretty sure they’d give you a beverage if you need a drink.”
He blinked. “Supper. That’s what you Yanks call it. I’m going to sing for my supper. You’ll wait for me?”
“Always,” I sighed. Hayden took my hand and led me back out, down the hall.
“Knock ’em dead,” I yelled over the din of the crowd as I released my fingers from his.
He winked at me before he turned into the glare of lights. Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep breath.
“Hayden?” He glanced back at me. I blew him a kiss. “For luck. I want an expensive tea.”
His smile, this real one he rarely let others see, was slow, devastating. I melted.
“For you, Sweet Briar, anything.”
Thank You!
Dear Readers,
Thank you so much for your support! This wouldn’t be anywhere near as much fun without you.
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About the Author
With a degree in international marketing and a varied career path that includes content management for a web firm, marketing direction for a high-profile sports agency, and a two-year stint with a renowned literary agency, Alexa Padgett has returned to her first love: writing fiction.
Alexa spent a good part of her youth traveling. From Budapest to Belize, Calgary to Coober Pedy, she soaked in the myriad smells, sounds, and feels of these gorgeous places, wishing she could live in them all—at least for a while. And she does in her books.
She lives in New Mexico with her husband, children, and ginormous, piano-hating Anatolian Shepherd, Mozart. When not writing, schlepping, or volunteering, she can be found in her tiny kitchen, channeling her inner Barefoot Contessa.
@AlexaPadgett
AlexaPadgettAuthor
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Acknowledgments
There are so many people I need to thank. This journey wasn’t an easy one. First, my husband, Chris, and my parents. Your support made this possible.
Jeffe, I love our bubbles dates and all the knowledge you’ve shared over the years. I’m so very blessed to call you a friend. Your kitties aren’t bad either. And, no, Izzy is nothing like Princess.
Taylor, your thoughtful comments were insightful and so very helpful. I’m so glad we’ve had t
he opportunity to work together.
Juliette, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all the help with the Aussie-isms. And for reading such an early draft and giving me hope there was, indeed, something special in this story.
My LERA friends, thank you so much for your generosity and support.
Clarissa, thank you for an amazing cover. I love it.
Nicole, your thoughtful edits made this book shine. I cannot thank you enough. I’ve so enjoyed getting to know you and now count you a dear friend as well as a kick-ass editor.
Sara, your careful read-through caught the final timeline issues. Thank you so much, and I hope Bumbershoot was super fun!
Erin, you amaze me with your ability to create such strong back-cover copy. My books are stronger because of your efforts. Thank you.
And to my readers, thank you, thank you, thank you for reading. You’re the best! Be sure to say hello on Facebook or Twitter. I’d love to “meet” you all.
Also By Alexa Padgett
SWEET SOLACE, Book One in the Seattle Sound Series
She Knew Him When
When they first met, she was far too young—seventeen, and already in love with the man who would break her heart. Asher Smith was an up-and-coming songwriter, but he knew better than to show his fascination. He wrote a song for Dahlia. And then he moved on. His whiskey-rough voice made him a star, even as fame extracted its price.
He Never Forgot Her
When she sees Asher next, Dahlia Dorsey is the widowed mother of a teenager, a reclusive writer. She’s given up on happy endings—she can’t even script them for her characters. But a moonlit beach and the touch of an old friend turn loose her pain and her desires, whether she’s ready or not.
They’re Risking It All
Dahlia’s career is on the rocks. Asher’s family is falling apart. Neither can chase a passing attraction. But for two souls wounded worse than they can admit, the connection between them is a balm too precious to refuse—and a thrill too exhilarating to resist . . .
Between Breaths (The Seattle Sound Series Book 2) Page 26