4 Play

by Quinn, Cari

  “You’re way too quiet over there. Is the world falling apart without you?”

  “Well, not quite, but…”

  He crossed his arms. “I don’t like that look.”

  She turned and crawled up the bed and straddled his thighs. “What do you think about walking around the festival with me for a little bit?”

  He arched a brow. “And why would I do that?”

  Bella draped her arms over his shoulders and inched up a little higher. “People would get a kick out of it. And it’s not an official meet and greet so you’d probably get away with walking around for a little bit.”

  He squinted at her. “Just as long as you don’t set up a kissing booth.”

  “No way. I’m the only one getting to kiss these lips now.” She grinned and leaned down. “Oh, sorry.” She pulled back. “Need to brush my teeth.”

  He pulled her back down for a long, dirty, open-mouthed kiss. Her lungs had backed up by the time he let her up for air. “Sharon can wait twenty more minutes.” She hopped to the floor, pulled the shirt up and over her head, then tugged him out of bed.

  He lifted her off her feet and hauled her into the bathroom.

  Forty minutes later, she and Logan stumbled out of the shower. Her legs were still shaking and she was technically clean. The images in her brain, however, were not. It was going to be a long time before she forgot what Logan looked like kneeling before her with starred lashes, his mouth wet from her. Or the obscene jets that he knew how to use for maximum efficiency.

  “You, over there.” She shooed him away. “You cannot be trusted.”

  His smile was annoyingly smug as he swiped a towel across his chest. “Are you complaining?”

  “I am…no, no I’m not.” She laughed when he reached for her and she backed away, tucking her towel around her breasts more securely. “I’m just a little broken.”

  He backed her into the counter. “Just showing you how good we are together.”

  Any better and they’d need their own X-rated show. “Dear God,” she muttered when he nuzzled her neck.

  He laughed into her shoulder and turned her around to the mirror. “See that face.” He tucked his chin onto her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her middle. “That’s why I keep coming back for more. Those topaz eyes and that smile. There, that one. The one you only give to me.”

  She didn’t want to think too hard about what he saw in her face. Not when she didn’t even know how she felt yet. “You’re quite the romantic, Mr. King.”

  “Not usually.” He reached around her and opened the medicine cabinet. He took out a toothbrush and one still in its packaging. She spotted two prescription bottles. As he was getting the toothpaste off the shelf, she was able to read the labels. One she didn’t recognize, but the other she certainly did. Valium.

  He wasn’t paying attention to her as he loaded up his brush and popped it in his mouth. She ripped hers out of its packaging and did the same, trying not to react to the information. It was none of her business if he took them, or why he would. The bottle looked full, but that didn’t mean anything.

  When he smiled at her with the brush sticking out of her mouth, she smiled back and followed his lead. They got dressed. Logan wore a mustard brown pair of shorts with a cheap burgundy souvenir shirt from Austin. She laughed at him when he put a baseball cap on with aviator shades.

  “Disguise?”

  “You’d be surprised how many people pass me by when I wear stuff like this.”

  “Because you look like a colorblind college kid.”

  “What? I like these pants.”

  Her lips twitched, but she managed not to laugh in his face. She wore her clothes from the night before, using the tank top as a bra and filching another one of his super soft Henleys.

  Downstairs, Lindsey was the only person awake so far. Well, sort of awake. She was curled into the corner of the sectional with her iPad and a blanket. She gave them a sleepy wave and went back to whatever she was reading. Logan unlocked a cabinet near the fridge and took out his wallet.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him do something so security-conscious. He had a smart house. She’d seen the panels all over the house and the remote by his bed the night before. Was it just because of his lifestyle? That he was rich? It seemed more than that. He was always very aware of his surroundings.

  In fact, when she’d snuck backstage the night before, she’d definitely startled him. He’d covered it well with one of his melt-Izzy-brainless kisses, but she’d seen the flash of something in his eyes.

  “Ready to go?”

  She nodded.

  His eyebrows lowered. “Everything okay?”

  “Fine. Just not looking forward to going back to the real world.”

  He hooked his arm around her neck and kissed her temple. “Me neither.” He took her hand and helped her navigate the gravel in her wedges.

  “I’m going to need to bring a pair of flats in my car for when I come over.”

  He caged her in at the passenger side door. “I think I’ve only seen you dressed down once.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Believe me, don’t get used to seeing me in all these cute outfits. I’m usually dusty from working with books all day.”

  “So, you mostly work at the store?”

  She shook her head. “Nic and Adam run the store more often than not. I’m usually going to auctions or doing research. Rare books.”

  He stroked down her hair absently. “Like first editions?”

  “Sometimes. A lot of times, actually. But it’s usually the really freaky rare stuff. Last week I had to track down a guide to botany from the eighteen hundreds.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  “Yep. I even got a request to find the sheet music to your short lived boyband.”

  Logan groaned. “God. I hope you didn’t find it.”

  “I’m very good. Seventeen year old Logan was adorable. Very cute bleached tips.”

  “All right. Enough.”

  Delighted at his gruff reaction, she went up on her toes. “Parachute pants were hot.”

  He lifted her into the seat. “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  He nodded, his eyes wide as he shut the door. Her phone trilled again, the racing piano sounds filling the cab.

  Logan got in and laughed. “She’s not that bad, you know.”

  “You haven’t planned an entire festival with her. You just show up and look pretty.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  She replied to a few of the texts. The ride into town was quiet as Logan seemed content to let her do her thing. They stopped at her shop and she shot up the back steps, changed, and met him on the sidewalk.

  Her hand slid into his without thought. There was nothing awkward about it, just the smooth linking of fingers. It was nice. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to simply be with someone.

  The closer she got to the park, the more she got twitchy. Bella felt eyes on her. Not the usual leering kind that women dealt with since they sprouted breasts, but the kind that came with whispers.

  She curled her other hand around their joined hands. For the first few minutes they’d gone unnoticed. She figured maybe the gossips had caught on. But it was more than that.

  Logan squeezed. “Sorry. Welcome to the super fun part of being with me.” He smiled at the trio of girls that had gathered around their phones. The squealing that happened made Bella blink. Was this an everyday thing for him?

  Without a hey, how are you, people lifted their phones for pictures. Others stopped them with requests for an autograph or a combination of the two. Twice she’d been pushed aside so a stranger could cozy up to Logan and get her picture taken. Each time he did it, with barely a ruffle in their conversation, then his hand was in hers again and they were moving on to the next booth.

  After the twentieth person interrupted them, she dragged him out of the main traffic area. “How do you stand it?”


  He shrugged. “Most people are polite about it. Some people get a little out of hand.”

  “A little? That redhead was a second away from cupping your ass.”

  He grinned down at her. “Jealous?”

  “I—” Was she? “No.”

  His grin spread into a smile. He looked over his lowered sunglasses. “You’re the only one for me, baby.”

  She slugged him in his arm.

  He winced and rolled his shoulder. “Ow.”

  “You didn’t warn me about this.”

  “You saw the people at rehearsal. You’re the one who wanted me to come out with you in a public setting.”

  “Yeah, well, it was stupid.”

  He curled an arm around her shoulder and angled his head down to shadow her face with the brim of his hat. “Not stupid. I like being with you. I like people seeing you with me.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. He leaned down for a kiss. It wasn’t the toe-curling kind. More of a soft meeting of mouths. The kind you had on a sunny Saturday at a fair.

  She backed up, tugging him along with her. “I have to make sure Dee got set up okay. Then another walk around to make sure everyone’s okay and we’re done.”

  “Sounds good.”

  They got to the balloon and darts game and he pulled her to a stop. “Want a dragon?”

  She peered up at the pink and purple dragon sitting on the top shelf. She drilled her finger into his belly. “You know how many darts that’ll be?”

  “Don’t think I can do it?”

  She shook her head no. “Yes.”

  “Nice. Way to have faith.” He stepped up to the booth and dug out his wallet. “Two dollars worth, please.”

  She leaned on the end of the wooden structure and folded her arms. “All right, let’s see it.”

  He bounced the darts in his hand. “Not exactly competition weight.”

  “Aww, poor baby.”

  “How many do I need for the dragon?”

  The kid looked between Logan and Bella and swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple jumped. “Three red balloons.”

  “Cake.”

  She put her elbows on the shelf and propped up her head. “Oh, baby. I so want that dragon. You can do it.”

  He laughed outright at her baby doll voice. Turned his head to stare at her face and threw the first dart.

  The pop of the balloon made her tip her head back with a laugh. “Competition darts. You shark.”

  He hit the second red balloon and she shook her head. He was lining up for the third when three men with cameras came up.

  “Logan. Hold it. Don’t throw it yet.”

  Logan ignored them and threw his third dart. This one hit a yellow balloon instead. The click and whir of high end cameras made her stand up straight. These weren’t photographers from a local paper.

  These were paparazzi.

  “C’mon, Logan. Win the pretty girl a prize.”

  “Yeah, we need a good shot.”

  The taunts didn’t seem to faze Logan. He threw a fourth dart and the red balloon exploded with a bang.

  Logan clapped his hands together and rubbed. “Purple dragon, kid.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. King.” The kid used a long pole with a hook and dropped it into his arms.

  “Pose with the dragon and your new flavor, Logan.”

  It was the first time she’d seen the photographers get to Logan. He held up a hand. “I’m sure you can find a better shot than that guys. Buzz off, huh?”

  “Don’t want a picture with the new lady? Or don’t you remember her name?”

  Bella’s eyebrows shot up.

  Logan’s brow snapped down. “Cool it, Brian.”

  “You know this guy?” Bella blurted out.

  “He’s a regular.” Logan stuffed the dragon under his arm and reached for her hand. He tugged her through the crush of people that had gathered. Shouts of fans and people that wanted to talk to him washed over her. People wouldn’t move. Then, suddenly, Logan stopped in the middle of the park. She crashed into him, pushing him forward a step.

  “Geeze, warn a girl.” He didn’t say a word. He didn’t move. She curled her hand around his upper arm and it felt like she’d grabbed onto a slab of rock.

  “Hello, Logan. I’ve missed you.”

  Bella moved to Logan’s side. A woman stood in front of him. A severe pixie cut in copper and burgundy framed her triangular face. Diamonds winked from her ears and wrist. She looked like she was on her way to Wimbledon with her white flared skirt and Ralph Lauren white polo shirt.

  Bella looked to Logan. His jaw was clenched so hard the muscle jumped in his cheek. His hand dropped way from hers. “Who’s this?”

  The woman gave her a derisive look and ignored her. “I thought you had outgrown this, Logan. How many women do you need to fuck before we get on with this? It’s getting boring.”

  Bella jerked back a step.

  “Miss Collen. Over here.”

  “Oh, my God. Aimee Collen?”

  Bella turned to a girl behind her. Who the hell was Aimee Collen?

  Her belly cramped as she stared at Logan, then slid her gaze back to the woman in front of them.

  “Are you and Logan back on? How long will it last this time?”

  “Did the annulment ever go through? Did you return the ring?”

  Bella whipped her head around at each shout from the photographers, but there was too much coming at her. The woman—Aimee—stepped forward and cupped his jaw. Logan jerked his head out of her grasp.

  “Oh, stop. I gotta say, I’m not a fan of the beard. Never thought you’d join the little hipster douchebaggery going on with beards. Ruins the lines of your perfect face.” Aimee slid her forefinger along the dent in his chin. She brushed her lips over his cheek and looked straight at Bella. Purple lashes framed watery gray eyes. Aimee lifted one brow and curled her perfectly manicured fingers down Logan’s forearm. Then she turned her full attention on Logan. “I’ll see you tonight. I’m sorry I missed the show yesterday.”

  She brushed by Bella in a haze of Chanel. The crowd enveloped Aimee and she smiled hugely, taking pictures, selfies, and signing autographs. The squeals of the teen girls only added to the confusion.

  “Logan.”

  Logan’s knuckles were white as he clenched his fingers into fists. He looked down at the pavement and wouldn’t meet Bella’s gaze.

  The confusion swarming her head like a hive of bees turned to a gut full of dread. Oh, God.

  Had she heard the word annulment in the chaos?

  Was Logan married? Shouldn’t she know that? Why didn’t she know any of this? Who the hell was Aimee Collen?

  She backed up one step, then two. People were staring at them and the furious shutter click of cameras sounded so loud.

  And he wouldn’t look at her.

  She did the only thing she could, she pushed through the crowd and lifted her chin. She didn’t look left or right, just straight ahead. Somewhere, anywhere. She had to get away from the cameras. Jacob Stack stood in the doorway of the grocery with his arms crossed over his chest, his silver hair ruffling in the light breeze.

  He stepped aside and let her through, then barred the door to whomever was following her. At least with Jacob there, she knew nothing could touch her. At least nothing physically.

  Twenty-Two

  Logan was pretty sure he was having a heart attack. Surely his chest couldn’t be this tight without actually having a valve burst.

  He looked down at his feet. The pavement was shifting. He dug his nails into his palms, tightening his fists until bones crunched together. Finally, the spots stopped floating into his vision and sounds sliced into his consciousness like ice picks. He was still outside. Still in the middle of the festival.

  He was hugging a freaking dragon.

  “Izzy?”

  He scanned the area, but there were too many faces staring back at him. The barn. He needed to get to the stage. Behind the park’s main stage was t
he path up to the barn. His space. The familiar.

  Where was Izzy?

  He couldn’t remember a damn thing. Just that woman. Just Aimee in his space. Her spicy scent that stuck in his nose and to his skin. No matter how much he washed or scrubbed. It was there. On him.

  Soaking inside him.

  He climbed the steps to the stage and across. People shouted for him. He felt the beat of drums as he accidentally crashed a set. He rushed for the back of the gazebo and down the stairs. He ran because he could. Legs pumping up the incline, his breath ragged. Without warm-up, under a panic attack.

  Finally, he gripped the steel barricade.

  A man came running. “Mr. King. Are you all right?”

  Logan nodded. “Aimee Collen. Add her to the do not admit list.”

  The man scribbled into a notebook and also added it to his phone. Several phones around the barricade went off and Logan breathed a little easier. He leaned against the doorway to the barn. Anger burned off the first licks of panic.

  He was still carrying the damn stuffed dragon. He went up the stairs and set it on an amp.

  Zeke flipped his guitar around his back. “There you are. Twitter has blown up, son. What the hell happened at the festival?”

  Logan shook his head and headed backstage to the hallway. He pressed his palm to the wall and dug out his phone. With shaking fingers, he hit Izzy’s contact name.

  “Pick up. Pick up.”

  “Hi, this is Isabella Grace, please leave a message.”

  He bowed his head. “Izzy, please. I can explain.” Christ, that sounded like a line. “I can’t do this over the phone and I can’t come find you. With…what happened, there will be so many more paparazzi on the way. Please.”

  He hit the end button and slapped the wall hard enough that the pain shot up his arm, dissolved some of the shock.

  Zeke found him. He wasn’t sure how much longer it was. He couldn’t focus long enough to even look at his phone. Just the white noise pushing at him.

  “What the fuck, man?”

  “I need to work.”

  Z grasped his shoulder and turned Logan to face him. “What. Happened?”

  Logan shook his head.

  “Christ, Lo. Is it true? Freaking Twitter exploded and the stupid rags are reporting that you had an altercation at the festival.” He made little air quotes on the word, altercation.