Bulletproof Weeks

by Taryn Elliott

  Nic looked up when the bell jangled over her head. Her dark eyes went huge and Bella could see her practically vibrating to get around the desk. But she finished the transaction first and packed up the customer’s books with her usual smile.

  Adam got to her first. He swooped in and hugged her tight. “I didn’t know you were coming in.” He pulled back and gave Logan a steady look. “Or that you had company.”

  She squeezed Adam’s hand. “Logan is just dropping me off.”

  “Good.”

  Obviously his protective brother instincts were on red alert. Not that she could blame him. She’d been a hot mess for a few days after the Logan break-up, but for the most part she’d buried it under work.

  Nic tackled her from the side until she, Adam, and Bella were a laughing pile of idiots.

  Logan watched with a smile in his eyes, but his face remained impassive. Bella detangled herself and leaned into his side. He slid his hand around her hip and pressed a light kiss over her temple. “When will you be home?”

  Nic’s eyebrows shot up.

  That was going to be a conversation and a half. She smiled up at him. “Not sure, but I’ll text.”

  He nodded. “Wish me luck. I’ll be in scheduling hell today.”

  She rose onto her toes and kissed him. He didn’t close his eyes, simply stared down at her with an eyebrow raised, those heavy-lidded green eyes full of something she couldn’t define. The kiss was nearly chaste, at least for them.

  When she lowered her heels to the floor, he brushed his lips across her temple then walked out.

  “What was that?”

  Bella frowned after him. “I don’t know.”

  “Not the weird kiss. Though, wow—weird. But Logan is in town again?”

  “Yeah. About that.”

  Nic tackle-hugged her. “We’re going to the diner,” she said over Bella’s shoulder.

  Adam sighed. “Why do I never get to hear stuff?”

  “I tell you the good stuff.” Nic smiled wide.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll hold down the fort.”

  Nic gave him a smacking kiss that left behind a ring of burgundy lipstick. “Thanks, babe.” She snagged Bella’s hand and dragged her to the door.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now. You’ll find some way to get pulled away to the phone or the stockroom. So we go now.”

  Five minutes later, they were in a booth with gravy fries and two of Dee’s cappuccinos on order.

  “Now spill. What the hell is going on?”

  Bella picked at the ragged cuticle of her thumb. “I don’t know even how to start.” She wasn’t sure how much she really could tell Nic. Enough not to get Adam and Nic into trouble if something came up, but not too much so they were on guard all the time.

  “You told me on the phone that you guys talked, but not the hows or the whys. Did you run into him or something?”

  “Or something.”

  She squinted at her. “Vague is not going to work this time, missy.”

  Bella laughed and covered her hand. “I missed you.”

  “Ditto. Now spill.”

  “Remember that day at the fair. The woman that we both wanted to bitch slap?”

  “Yeah, that famous hotel mogul chick that needs to burn in hell. Like I could forget?”

  They’d done extensive research on the woman. There may have been a voodoo doll involved during some of the late nights of wine consumption.

  “Well, evidently not only is she an ex-girlfriend, but she’s a crazy ex.”

  Nic leaned forward. “How crazy?”

  “Stalker.”

  “Oh, shit. Really? Why didn’t he tell you that the first time?”

  “He’s dumb.”

  She snorted out a laugh as Dee came up with a plate of fries drenched in gravy and two mugs in her other hand.

  “Here you go, girls.”

  “Goddess,” Nic whispered as she cupped her hands around the fat mug.

  “Anything else I can get you?”

  Bella shook her head. “Thanks, Dee.” She waited for her to go back to the front counter before she spoke again. The information wasn’t exactly up for public debate. And in a town like Winchester Falls, it would twist and turn into something only resembling part of the truth.

  They had about twenty minutes before the Early Bird Special rush started.

  Bella swiped a fry through the gravy and popped it in her mouth.

  “He’s not dumb or you wouldn’t give him the time of day, let alone a second chance.”

  “No, of course I wouldn’t.” Bella tapped the side of the plate and selected another fry. “Actually, it’s more like she’s a little unhinged.”

  “I believe that’s the definition of crazy ex.”

  “This is between us.”

  “And Adam.”

  Bella rolled her eyes. “Married rules, yes.”

  “Okay, okay. Spill it.”

  “She threatened to hurt me.”

  “What?!”

  She shot a look over her shoulder at Dee who gave them a head tilt. “That is not being cool and calm, Nic.”

  “You said I had to keep it to myself. I don’t believe there was anything there about me not flipping out.”

  “It was implied.”

  “Fuck her. That bitch needs to go down.”

  “Okay, Brooklyn, bring it down.”

  “Shut up.” Nic dabbed a fry into the gravy. “We could take her out.”

  “With what, your credit card bill?”

  “Well, then what’s Logan doing about it? And how did you find out?”

  She explained the airport fiasco and her secret bodyguard. Then going to Logan for an explanation. She left out the make-up sex. That was rather obvious at this point.

  Nic sat back when she was done and slumped in her seat. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I wish I was.”

  “So this whole time, he’s been keeping you safe?”

  “Don’t get that look in your eyes.”

  “Aww, c’mon. You gotta admit that’s some romantic shit right there.”

  “No, he lied.”

  “You have to admit that’s some of it. There’s no way your panties would have hit your ankles, because I can tell you’ve gotten superiorly laid, if that wasn’t the case.”

  “Nic.” Her best friend was all wound up and it was always a trick to yank her back from the edge.

  “Am I lying?”

  “No.” Bella warmed her hands around the mug. “But he still lied.”

  “He pulled some caveman shit. Now you have to keep him in check. Because if he does it again, then you need to kick his ass.”

  She smiled behind the mug before she took a sip. “So, there’s a part two.”

  “Seriously? There’s more?” Nic’s voice was almost a squeak. She lifted her mug for a drink.

  “He wants me to move in.”

  Her mug thunked back on the table. “You just got back together.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a crazy few days. Oh, and he loves me.”

  Nic held up a finger. “Okay, are you trying to give me a heart attack? Because you can’t keep dropping bombs like this.”

  “And I love him, too.”

  “Well, duh. I knew that one. And honestly, if he hired a dude and dudette to follow you around for the last five plus months—wow. Hi. Expensive.”

  “He’s mildly rich.”

  “Still, guys don’t like to part with their money. Especially rich ones, they want everything for free. Which doesn’t make sense, but anyway. The salient point in all of this is that he must really love you.”

  Leave it to Nic to put it into perspective. A bit of Nic logic in there, but definitely a valid thought process going on in that crazy head of hers.

  “Don’t you think it’s really fast though?”

  “Well if you stretch it out in a timeline, it works. If you break it down to time act
ually spent in each other’s personal space…eh, maybe a little fast.”

  Bella folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them. “So, I’m not moving in with him.”

  “Well, hold up, B. That’s probably not a bad idea actually.”

  She lifted her head. “What? Why?”

  “Well if you’ve got a psycho bitch involved in this crazy…courtship?” Nic shook her head with a pout of her lips. “Yeah, courtship is the best word I guess. He’s got the fortress of security, right?”

  “That’s no reason to move in.”

  “No, but if you love him, and he loves you…then this is a good way to figure out if you guys can do the whole reality thing. You know, the crazy romance with a rockstar sounds good in theory, but what happens if he’s an obnoxious bear when he sleeps? You know, the snoring kind.”

  “I’ve slept over before.”

  “You’ve slept over when he’s on his best behavior and wants to get you naked.” Nic pointed at her with a dripping fry. “But what about the nights he has one too many beers and drools and snores on the couch? These are the things you need to know.”

  The Nic logic was strong tonight, but it was accurate. They’d had a few fights, but they were both still in the dating phase of how they acted around each other. This could be a good way to figure out if it was infatuation or real love.

  “Most of what we do is remote anyway. Not to mention he is a rock god. He’s got a new album coming out soon, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he does.” They’d talked about his upcoming album and the tour that would start in the summer.

  “So this is the perfect time to get to know him.”

  She rested her chin on her stacked arms. “It just seems so quick. I went from loathing him to loving him way too fast.”

  “Fine line, my love. Tis a fine line between love and hate. And when the orgasms are good, the line is even finer.”

  “Nic.”

  “Oh, come on. The way he fills out those jeans? No way you’re going to tell me the sexy times are anything less than stellar. Especially with that beard rash you’re sporting.”

  The bell over the door jangled and the first wave of seniors filed into the diner.

  Nic glanced at the door. “Saved by the blue plate special.”

  Thank God. Because there was no way she could deny that she and Logan had no problems with their physical relationship. Nic certainly didn’t need any more ammunition for teasing her throughout the day.

  “All right, woman, then you get to help me figure out what I’m bringing with me to his palatial cabin.”

  “Yay. I’m sure I can think of something besides a year’s worth of birth control.” Nic said it loud enough that two white-haired women spun to look at them.

  Bella held a hand up to Dee. “Check, please.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Logan reached out next to him for Izzy, but of course she wasn’t there. He scrubbed his hands over his face. Izzy had moved in adding a new dynamic to the house. But when he’d had the idea to test the waters there—as well as keeping her safe—he hadn’t really planned out the details.

  Namely the finishing of his band’s album.

  There were currently six people in his house. And that was only because Morgan had been lent out to another band for an emergency. Because they’d been around for so long, all of his guys had booked themselves as studio musicians on their off-seasons.

  None of them really knew how to take time off.

  Himself included. When he wasn’t on the road, he was usually producing or writing with someone else. There had never been a reason to take time off before. Now, there was Izzy.

  And then she was understanding as hell.

  He was the one that felt hemmed in by all the bodies in his fucking house. Namely because he wasn’t getting alone time with Izzy. They squirreled away in the bathroom for privacy, but even he was getting tired of shower sex.

  He wanted to have a lazy evening where they did nothing but eat Chinese food, watch action movies, and have wild monkey sex. He’d only caught onto her love of action movies because she was always sprawled out in the living room with his bandmates. While he was working, of course. He couldn’t forget that part.

  Most of the time it was Christian and Zeke keeping his streaming accounts well-used. Now he could add Izzy to the list. Not that Logan had time to sit with the animals, or his girl. And when she wasn’t watching movies with the idiots, she was getting cooking lessons from Julian and Emerson.

  All of them had adopted her.

  Hell, every single one of the fuckers would steal Izzy in a hot second. He knew that because he’d had to make the threat of ripping their hearts out on more than one occasion.

  That and they might have been watching a marathon of Game of Thrones, so he’d been inspired by the carnage.

  It had been six weeks since he and Izzy had come back to Winchester Falls and the band had arrived soon after. They were so close to zipping up the production side of the album. When he needed to lay down a correction on a track, he had all of them there to cut backup vocals, a new bass line for one of the new songs he’d changed for the fourth time, or adding another layer to the guitars.

  Having all of them there was very convenient to the process.

  And yet he still wanted to toss every one of them outside and down the mountain. It was mid-March. They wouldn’t die of hypothermia anymore.

  Probably.

  He rolled out of bed and took a shower, then followed the voices to the kitchen. Isabella stood at the island counter in her morning workout gear. She wore perfectly suitable yoga pants that covered her from hip to calf, if you didn’t take into consideration that the skin-tight screaming purple material showed every curve and line of her perfect ass. And the tight crisscrossing top also covered her completely.

  Hell, she even wore one of her little shrug sweaters over it.

  But still…she was in the middle of four guys showing them how to pipe a design on freshly baked cookies.

  Zeke held up two cookies that had baked together and were obviously breast-shaped.

  Izzy laughed and reached over with her bag of icing to accentuate the nipples that were already there—probably Zeke’s handiwork—a little more. And they loved it, egging her on for additional jewelry on said nipples.

  Instead of unleashing his surly mood on their fun, he headed downstairs to the studio. Soundproofed and quiet, he was tempted to stay down there and lock the damn door. He sat at his control deck, booted up his Pro-Tools, and cued up the song he’d finished the night before. He listened to the track with fresh ears. Their label had sent a producer to see if he would move Logan along.

  The same producer that he’d worked with three years ago.

  For the album he hated.

  There was no way he was going to allow that sound onto this album. He’d sent Trent Wagner back before he could even clear his gates. Fuck that. He had enough time in at the label to buy some leeway.

  If the album tanked, he’d have to play nicey-nice and do a Christmas album or something. But he wasn’t going to compromise any of the songs he’d written alone, or with the band. Not this time. Not ever again.

  He was tired of worrying about what was trending, or what would be trending if the stars aligned on the third Tuesday in September. He just wanted to write his damn music and tour.

  Even if the touring took him away from Izzy.

  He needed the stage. And he also needed to find a way for the stage to be his own again, not a vehicle for Aimee’s mindfuckery.

  Pushing that thought out of his head, Logan focused. One track moved into the next. The songs were grittier than he usually turned in. Slick overproduction would sterilize the sound and kill the mood he was going for.

  “Damn. That sounds awesome.”

  Logan looked over his shoulder. “Ready to work finally?”

  Zeke sat next to him. “Your girl makes baking fun, what can I say?”

  “Yeah,
so I saw.”

  “Testy, testy. You could have come in and joined the fun.”

  “Someone has to be the grown-up and not draw boobs on a perfectly good sugar cookie.”

  “They got all stuck together. Dude, the cookies looked like boobs. Nice ones.”

  Logan tried not to smile, but it was like trying to stay mad at a puppy. Simply couldn’t be done. “Good thing Izzy can handle you animals.”

  Zeke kicked out his feet and laced his fingers over his belly. “Izzy even likes us animals. It’s you that has gotten all grouchy. What’s the problem, son? The music is flowing, you’ve got a serious babe warming your bed, and we’re only two weeks behind on production. There’s nothing but net here, buddy. Lighten up.”

  “When we get this to the label, then I’ll lighten up.”

  “Then let me see what you got, maestro.”

  Logan bumped the volume for the speakers of the main studio. “This is the version of ‘Refuse’ we did yesterday.”

  Zeke shut his eyes and swayed in the metronome way he always did while soaking in a song. When the guitar clashed with the piano, the corner of his lips lifted. “How Slash is that shit right there?”

  “You wish you were Slash, fuckhead.”

  He opened one eye. “Yeah, I do. But hell, man your piano is making babies with my guitar riff. Fucking sweet. Feels like it needs a little something though. Maybe strings? When Morgan comes back we should have him whip out Sheila. It’s been a while.”

  “You might be right about that.” Their percussionist also played every damn instrument he could get his hands on. One of the reasons he was the best studio musician on both sides of the continent. And the most in demand.

  Logan skipped the next two songs and played, “Beginning and End”. He flipped the surround sound to the entire studio. Featherlight piano notes slowly built with his voice crooning out a story about the ending of a love and the wild road to the beginning. About trying to figure out where and when he went wrong.

  “The piano is the key to this album. I’ve missed you on the keys. It’s good, Lo. Better than I’ve heard in a whole lotta years.”