Protect Me - A Steamy Bodyguard Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 5)

by Layla Valentine

  The doorbell rang and I heard Tyler answer it. He had grown more comfortable in my house over the last few weeks, and had slipped seamlessly into the role of host.

  “He’ll keep him occupied,” I told myself firmly.

  Calmer now, I applied a sheer, modest look in smoky nudes. The only pop was at my lips; coral, to match the vaguely retro look I had managed to pull together. A chunky bracelet and matching necklace later, I was as ready as I would ever be to eat with the dictators of my life and livelihood. My white satin ballet flats nearly slid off the first step, making my entrance far more dramatic than I wanted it to be.

  Breathe, damn it, I told myself.

  I made my way down the stairs as gracefully as I could without killing myself. At the bottom, I followed the masculine laughter into the drawing room, which had been decked out with discreet tables topped with drinks and appetizers. This caterer was golden. I made a mental note to ask Tyler how he found them, because I certainly hadn’t had time to do it.

  Henry had his arm hooked around a gorgeous woman’s waist, and was talking animatedly to Tyler. I didn’t have to know what they were saying to pick up on the friendly chemistry, and I grinned. Henry was one of my favorite people, and it pleased me to see that he got along so well with my absolute favorite person. Henry saw me before Tyler did, and his smile widened.

  “There she is! Woman of the hour. Good to see you, sweetheart. How’ve you been?” Henry abandoned his date to clasp my hands and kiss my cheeks, gestures which I returned enthusiastically.

  “Oh, you know, completely out of my mind,” I said lightly.

  He saw the truth of my statement in my eyes and chuckled softly. “Nearly there, love. Before you know it, your album will be winning awards and your world tour will be a happy, hectic memory. I’d like you to meet my date, Desiree.”

  “W-world tour?” I asked in a small voice, sparing a weak smile for Henry’s wholesomely gorgeous girlfriend.

  “Spilling the beans without me, Henry?” Jude’s booming voice filled the room.

  I turned to greet him. He had a blonde on his arm who was half his age at best, soft of mouth and shrewd of eye. Behind them, two androgynously dressed people—who I assumed were the producer and their date—followed. I then realized with a cold wave of panic that I didn’t know if the producer was a man or a woman.

  “Hey, dollface. Nice digs,” Jude said with a leering grin. He looked me up and down appraisingly, and I suppressed that familiar feeling of being a cow on an auction block. “Paisley Abbott, this is my date, Stephanie.”

  “Tiffany,” she corrected pertly.

  “Yes, Paisley this is Tiffany.”

  I greeted her warmly, apologizing for Jude with my eyes. She accepted in kind, shrugging it off. We both knew why she was there. As long as he remembered her name when she convinced him to sign her, she would have won.

  “And this is the producer I was talking to you about, Dana Jade Shuffle.” He brought one of the androgynous couple forward.

  Jade… Green, like his…her? Their hair.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Dana,” I said warmly, accepting their hand.

  “Pleasure’s all mine, sugar. This is my partner, Sky.” Dana ushered Sky forward, and I grinned as I registered that Sky’s hair was blue. Color-coded couples; now there was an idea.

  “I’m a huge fan, Ms. Abbott,” Sky said in a sultry tone, and the earnest compliment filled me with warmth, easing my nerves.

  I introduced Tyler to the whole group, and he was greeted in varying degrees of warmth and disinterest. I cringed when Jude’s date barely looked at him, her eyes glazing over when his name didn’t ring any famous bells.

  Tyler seemed to take it in good humor, winking at me conspiratorially.

  “Not to be judgmental or nothin’, but I think half these people need a stickectomy.”

  I snorted a laugh, earning myself a scandalized look from Jude’s date. Stephanie? No, Bethany. Damn it, why did he always date the same type? Oh, whatever. If she couldn’t be bothered to learn Tyler’s name, I wasn’t going to kick myself for not learning hers.

  After a lot of greetings and small talk, we moved to the dining room where the first of three courses had just been served.

  I took the head of the table, and Tyler took the foot, happily greeting Henry at his left and Henry’s date on his right, the three of them immediately diving back into the animated conversation they’d started in the other room.

  The table was small enough for easy conversation in every direction, but large enough to give everyone ample room to eat. The various couples were all seated across from each other, which kept conversation flowing. Eventually talk worked its way back around to me and my album, which killed my appetite mid-bite of crab puff.

  “So, I guess Henry already told you about the world tour, that backstabbing glory pirate,” Jude said, softening his words with a friendly grin in said pirate’s direction.

  “Nothing beyond those two words,” I told him. “What’s the plan with that?”

  “Starts with you, as usual,” Jude told me. “I hope you put together something brilliant, because this whole plan revolves around what you’ve got to play for us tonight.”

  My stomach rolled over and I swallowed hard. It wasn’t that good, it was actually terrible, I should run back in there right now and scrap the whole thing, tell him it was a technical glitch… Tyler caught my eye from across the table and winked at me, grinning broadly. Relaxing ever so slightly, I allowed myself a deep, steadying breath.

  “All right, brilliant album. Next?”

  “After that, obviously, Dana and I go to work on it. It won’t be like the others. We won’t change your arrangements at all. Dana’s job is simply to pull out the natural beauty of your songs. Polishing the stone with water rather than wax, so to speak. Dana will also be choosing the specific artists to play the other instruments; the right artist will add depth without detracting or distracting from the whole.”

  “Sounds pretty standard so far,” I said, a bit puzzled. “What’s the rest of it?”

  “That’s where we get into Henry’s territory, and mine as well, of course,” Jude said, leaning back and lacing his hands over his belly. “I’ll be sending samples of your best songs to my global contacts, putting out feelers for a tour. Sky—social media guru—will be running polls and… What did you say you were doing? Crawling?”

  “Close enough,” Sky said with a shrug. “Basically, I’m just going to keep an eye on your trends, Paisley. You already have a following in the UK, Germany and Australia. It won’t take much of a push to get you trending in New Zealand and the rest of Europe.”

  “Oh,” I said weakly. “So you’re going to do pre-release samples, and then…?”

  “Interviews! Video calls, mostly. Henry, Sky, and I will root out the best outlets. You’re looking at about a dozen interviews before your tour.”

  I nodded, my brain working quickly. “Softening, building hype, connecting…then the tour?”

  “A huge tour,” Jude said, grinning like a shark. “You’ll circle the globe, playing shows in every country.”

  I felt faint.

  “Not every country,” Henry corrected quickly. “There’s no way I could arrange that, and you’d be forty before that tour finished. We’re going to hit the big cities, and the ones with the most hype per capita. You’re looking at three months on the road, tops.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and shot Henry a grateful look. I met Tyler’s eyes, and he smiled at me. Did he have any idea what that would mean? Three months of nothing but travel? Jet lag, not enough sleep, high-energy performances every night… He would barely recognize me by the end of it.

  “Trial by fire,” I murmured under my breath.

  “What’s that?” Jude asked.

  “‘Trial by Fire,’” I repeated out loud. “Last song on the album. I think it’ll be the biggest single on there.”

  I didn’t, but you never know. Once in a while, a s
ong would break the mold and become an instant classic. Not that I was putting myself up there with the greats or anything. This was no Bohemian Pie or American Rhapsody… I shook my head in frustration. I always got scrambled under stress.

  Oh, God. I would have to do interviews. The ultimate scramblers. I sought Tyler’s eyes and found them steady. His gaze anchored me, balanced me. Just keep looking at me like that, I asked him silently. Do that, and we’ll get through this whole.

  Chapter 25

  Tyler

  One Year Later

  “Heck of a year,” Henry said, handing me a beer.

  I took a slow drink, thinking back on the year as I looked out over Paisley’s backyard. My backyard, I corrected myself. I still wasn’t completely used to living in this house. My perceptions had changed so drastically over the last year, but I still felt like I should be grateful to live in a shoe box. Our new, rambling horse ranch was as far from a shoe box as a person could get without moving into an actual palace.

  It was strange to be back in Memphis. The world seemed so much bigger than it had before, but also smaller, somehow. As if seeing places like Paris and Beijing stripped them of their alien mystery, making them as vivid and real as the city I’d known all my life.

  “Heck of a year,” I agreed.

  “You ready for Sunday?” he asked me with a sharp look.

  I shot a wry smile at him. “She’s got a lot more to worry about than I do. This doesn’t work out, worst-case scenario, I walk away with nothing. That’s what I walked into it with. She’s got a lot more to lose. Not that I want any of it if I don’t have her… I just mean that she is all I want. All I can see myself wanting in the future.”

  “Hm.” Henry frowned at his beer thoughtfully, then turned his steely gaze at me. “Tyler, you and I are about to have a conversation that we should have had six months ago. I put it off because, frankly, I like you. I think you’re a solid dude.”

  “Erm…thanks?”

  “Yeah, shut up.” Henry inhaled sharply and blew it out, then took a deep swig of his beer. Squinting at me once more, he continued. “Paisley’s important. Not because she’s a star, not because she’s rich or beautiful or any of the other crap that the average fan thinks is important. She’s important because, through all of this stardom craziness, she’s maintained her sense of who she really is. She’s precious. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Completely,” I said earnestly. “Henry, you know me. I’d marry that girl if she was a penniless nobody. Hell, I probably would have asked her sooner if she was a penniless nobody.”

  “Why do you say that?” he asked sharply.

  I chuckled softly. “Because then my love wouldn’t have felt like an intrusion into her empire. I’ve wanted to marry her since that night you broke the news about the tour. The way she kept looking at me for reassurance even though the whole night was all about her world.”

  “And you didn’t want to intrude on that?” he asked, furrowing his thick ginger brow.

  I shrugged. “I didn’t want to intrude on her music. She’s not just a singer; she runs the whole Paisley Abbott brand, even though she doesn’t really know it. She tries to wait for direction, for somebody to tell her what to do. But really, she’s the one calling all the shots.”

  “She’s doing that a lot more now,” Henry pointed out. “You’ve had an effect on her.”

  I smiled at that. I’d been worried, once or twice, that I had nothing to give Paisley outside of the bedroom, but I’d been proved wrong over and over again.

  “You know what’s funny? For months leading up to the tour, she kept telling me that I shouldn’t expect her to acknowledge my existence during her tour. She apologized in advance, and told me in no uncertain terms that if I couldn’t handle that, I should stay home.”

  “Good thing you didn’t,” Henry said sagely. “That would have been a disaster.”

  I shook my head with a little laugh. “I don’t think it would have been. Remember the night I asked her to marry me?”

  “Sure,” Henry said. “You cut it kind of close, waiting until the week before we went on tour. What about it?”

  “Well… You saw her say yes, and do the happy screams, jumping around with her sister and everything. It was completely different when we came home.”

  “How so?”

  “She sat me down with a bottle of wine and we had a very serious talk. I thought she was going to break up with me, honestly.”

  “Right after accepting your proposal?” Henry asked wryly.

  “Man, you should have seen the look on her face,” I told him, shivering at the memory. “I really thought… Anyway, what she told me was that I had no idea what I was getting myself in to. She said she accepted the proposal because it’s what she wanted, but if I changed my mind after the tour she wouldn’t hold it against me.

  “She told me that she wasn’t going to settle for anyone who didn’t want to marry all of her, in every mood, in every environment, and if I couldn’t stand to be with her on the tour, then I would never last in a marriage with her.”

  “Ah,” Henry said with a twinkle in his eye. “That explains a lot.”

  “Like what?” I asked, my shoulders tensing.

  “Like Germany.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned. “Oh my God, longest night of my life.”

  “Venue catches fire…”

  “Paisley panics.”

  “Bus won’t start…”

  “Paisley’s hysterical.”

  “Due on stage in Belgium two hours ahead of the written schedule…”

  “Paisley loses her dang mind.”

  Henry laughed. “I gotta tell you, man. Watching you curse everything from the first fish to crawl out of the ocean to the idiot director at the Belgian stadium was the funniest thing I ever did lay my eyes on.”

  “Glad you were entertained,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “But no, man. I didn’t spend all that time calming her down and getting her to sleep because she’d leave if I didn’t. I did it because she needed me to.

  “She needed me a lot on that tour, seemed like. Not for anything big—I didn’t have to prop her up or hustle up a bowl full of green candy or anything, I just needed to be there. Every time she started to freak out, she’d look for me. All I had to do was look at her and wink or smile, something stupid easy, and she’d be good to go.”

  “She always gets a little neurotic on tours,” Henry said. “It’s a lot of stimulation, a lot of stress on the body with all the time changes and everything. She did a lot better than I thought she would. Pretty sure that’s your doing.”

  “I’d like to think so,” I said honestly. “But I think she might just be growing into her superstar pants.”

  “Only thing getting into her superstar pants is you.” Henry’s eyes twinkled, and I punched him on the arm. He switched back to his brotherly talk after that. “What was your parents’ marriage like, Tyler?”

  “Practically nonexistent,” I said flatly. “My mom took off on my eighth birthday. My dad was a drunk. I always figured the two were linked.”

  “Ouch. Sorry to hear that.” Henry frowned into the distance. “So, what’s your model?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “For your marriage? Who are you modeling it after?”

  I thought about that for a while. Dan’s marriage had been a hot mess from beginning to end, starting with physical attraction and ending when she realized that she’d spent most of her life with a guy who wouldn’t speak to her outside the bedroom. Jude was married again, but I didn’t see him as a good role model for anybody. A smile flickered over my lips as I went back a little farther.

  “Billy and Jeanne,” I said with a grin. “They worked hard, side by side, until they had their twins. She stayed home because they couldn’t afford decent childcare, so he started picking up extra cash in the ring. She hated it, but she didn’t stop him or give him any kind of ultimatum. She always told him t
hat she was scared he would die in the ring, and he always told her that he wouldn’t.”

  “He didn’t, did he?” Henry asked with a wince.

  “He almost did,” I said, far enough removed from the memory to talk about it easily. “I almost beat him to death. Got stuck in a primal thing, didn’t see the tap out. Anyway… He spent a few weeks in the ICU, and another four months in the hospital. Six months in rehab. Not once in that whole eleven months did Jeanne say, ‘I told you so’. Not one single time. She just took care of the kids all by herself and visited him in the hospital every day. When he got home, she took care of all three of them.”

  “Sounds like a bit of a one-way street,” Henry offered.

  “Nah, man,” I grinned. “See, I patched the finances for them while he was in the hospital, but he didn’t know that. She didn’t want to bother him with the mystery of who was sending her cash, she just told him that everything was fine and they were taken care of. He didn’t believe her. He thought she was living with her parents, who he doesn’t like much because of how they treated her growing up.”

  “Complicated,” Henry murmured.

  “Yeah. So he starts looking around for ways to provide for his family without getting out of bed or risking re-injury.”

  Henry raised his brow in question as he took a swig.

  “He started a blog,” I laughed. “Who’d a thought a big street fighter like Billy could write? But he did it, and he did it well. Blogged about Memphis and had his friends take pictures for him. He earned himself a thousand followers in the first few weeks, then he started going after small businesses.”

  “Going after?”

  “Offered them a detailed spot on his blog. Three-hundred word advertisements with a captive audience. He did the research, put in the time, and figured out that he could charge a ridiculous amount for it. Then he went and taught himself marketing, and his follower numbers just skyrocketed. By the time he made it back home, he was pulling in a cool four thousand every month, just by highlighting different low-key joints around Memphis. Might not sound like much to you bigwigs,” I teased, elbowing him. “But that’s near triple what he was making with his nine-to-five and the fights.”