Satellite of Love

by Christa Maurice

  “I’ll be home every night.” Connie and Tessa were taking her to a spa tomorrow. That would give them time to talk. Tuesday, she was headed to a farmer’s market with his drum tech’s wife, Kim. Kim was pretty calm and she’d lived this lifestyle for a while now. Wednesday, she and Bonnie were doing something. That scared him a little. He loved Brian like a brother, but his wife was…unpredictable. She had plans for Thursday and Friday too. All the trips limited her need to drive in the city, which he knew worried her. Every day someone picked her up or he dropped her off on the way to rehearsal. This was what she wanted, right? If this was what she wanted, why was she being so quiet? “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She turned to him with a blank expression.

  “Right.”

  Her lips quirked. “I’m just not so sure they liked me.”

  “Of course they did. Everybody wanted to make plans with you.”

  “Because they’re trying to check me out.”

  “And they’re going to find out how great you are.” He reached over and took her hand.

  “All your friends here think I’m out for something.”

  “No, they don’t.” Unable to lie to her face, he kept his eyes on the road.

  “Yes, they do.”

  “If this is about the pre-nup—”

  “It’s not.” She slid her hand away from him. “It’s more about me not measuring up to be good enough for you.”

  He turned and stared at her. “What?”

  “Michael, watch!” She grabbed the dashboard.

  As a midnight blue Lexus zipped across the lane in front of them, missing his bumper by microns, he slammed on the brakes. Tires squealed behind him and a couple of horns honked. “Fucker,” he snarled. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t get that tone with me.” She folded her arms.

  “I don’t have a tone with you.” But he did. He tried to take a deep breath and couldn’t. His chest and shoulders had braced for impact and hadn’t relaxed yet. Impact from the other car or from whatever weird shit was going on in her head, he wasn’t sure. “Okay, I have a tone. What do you mean you not being good enough for me? How could you not be? You’re so nice and sane and normal.”

  “A little too normal and I know nothing about your life. I am completely clueless about everything you love.” She folded her hands in her lap again and stared at them. The heavy sound of her breathing drowned out the radio.

  “I love you.”

  “Michael.”

  “What? I’m serious. I don’t care if you don’t know all about music or cars or whatever. That just gives us more to talk about.” He glanced at her. Still staring at her hands, she’d hunched over like she wanted to curl into a ball, but the seat belt held her back. “Come on, Maureen. What’s the funk about?”

  She shook her head.

  He focused on the road. The tension in his shoulders and chest wasn’t going away. The whole meeting had gone so well. Or had it all been wishful thinking?

  No, not wishful thinking. Connie and Tessa never felt any compulsion to be political. Kim did, but Kim had dealt with some superstar diva wives during her marriage to Cal. Bonnie? Who the hell knew what Bonnie was thinking most of the time? Right now he was blanking on her plans for Thursday and Friday. “What are you doing Thursday?”

  “Shopping with Liddy.”

  “And Friday?”

  She sighed. “Shopping with Tori and a couple of her friends. I’m getting the impression all these women ever do is shop.”

  “That’s what you need the expense account for.”

  “I guess so.” She twisted sideways in her seat. “When we get married, where will we live?”

  When. His tension started to ebb. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. I guess I figured you’d move out here with me.”

  “But my job is back there.” She pointed eastish.

  “Well, yeah, but Malibu has schools too, doesn’t it?” It had to. If it didn’t, Santa Barbara had some because Connie’s kid went to school.

  “I have twelve years toward retirement at home.”

  “Okay, fine. We live there, but it means I’m going to be away from home more because I’ll have to come back here to work.” He clutched the steering wheel tighter because he could hear that tone leaking into his voice again. Tension coiled back around his arms and chest too. “What are you doing, Maureen? Why are you throwing up roadblocks?”

  “I can’t be like those women, Michael.”

  “Like what women?”

  “Nichole and Liddy and Tori. My brain will die.”

  “So don’t. Who said you had to be?”

  “We never talked about anything. We never discussed whether we wanted kids or if I would keep working or where we were going to live. There’s a lot of things we need to decide.”

  “Fine. Talk. You want to have kids?”

  “Don’t get hostile.”

  “I’m not getting hostile. You’re being crazy.”

  “I’m being crazy? I’m not the one who’s shouting.”

  He thrust out his jaw. Turning into the neighborhood, he took a deep breath. “Alright, I’m not shouting. Do you want to have kids?”

  “Do you?”

  A growl rose in his throat and he fought it back down. If this were any more difficult there would be a dentist’s drill involved. “I never thought about it. I like kids. I guess I wouldn’t mind having one or two of my own, but it’s not deal breaker. What about you?”

  “I always thought I would like to have kids, but it’s getting a bit late in life for me so I’d kind of given up on the idea.”

  “‘Late in life’?”

  “I’m thirty-four.” She said it like she was telling him she wasn’t a pedophile.

  Still. Thirty-four? That made her at least four years older than him. Not that four years was a big deal. It didn’t change her personality. In fact, it was probably one of the things that attracted him to her. She breathed stability and calm, but she was still fun and childlike. “Okay. You can still have kids at thirty-four.” He caught himself on the verge of questioning. Everything he knew about women was being dashed on the rocks with her.

  “For a few more years.” She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, daring him to contradict her.

  “Then we’ll get on that right away.” He reached for her hand. Pulling it to his lips, he kissed her fingers. “The trying will be fun.”

  She chuckled and her hand relaxed him his grip. “What about me working?”

  “Work or not, it’s your choice.” He shrugged.

  “You don’t care?”

  “Oh, I care. I’d rather have you home all the time, but I know if you don’t have something to do, you’re going to go bonkers.” He turned into the driveway and hit the garage door opener. On the phone, all she’d talked about was her students. Teaching lit her up.

  “And what about where we’re going to live?”

  “Like I said, my job is here and I can’t do it anywhere else. If I stay in the band, I’m going to have to be here a lot.”

  “What about my retirement?”

  “Baby, you don’t have to worry about your retirement.” He put the car in park and turned to her. “I’m your retirement.”

  “Because you can pay me ten thousand dollars a month to sit around looking pretty.” Her jaw quivered.

  “Don’t get all hot again. The expense account is just for stuff you might need. I’m trying to take care of you. I want to take care of you. Let me.” He put his hand around the back of her neck. “Please?”

  She bowed her head. “No one’s ever taken care of me before. It’s hard to adjust.”

  He leaned his forehead on hers. “Take your time.” Running the tips of his fingers under her jaw, he tipped her mouth up to his. Her eyes were open when their lips met and she kept her gaze focused on him. She seemed to see directly into his heart and he swore he could see into hers. She was everything warm, rich and wonderful that he’d
ever imagined. As she captured his lower lip between hers, stroking it with her tongue, he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer…

  And the gearshift got in the way.

  He cursed, shifting back. “I need a car with a bench seat.”

  “Yeah, the three you have now suck for making out in.” Laughing, she opened her door, pulled the elastic out of her hair and tossed it at him. “Race you to the bedroom.”

  She really did mean race. By the time he got inside, she was running down the hall and her shirt was lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. In the dining room, her bra dangled from his snare. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Hadn’t they been arguing ten minutes ago? Making major life decisions? Shouldn’t she still be in serious conversation mode? Her jeans were crumpled in the hall with her panties still in them.

  She knelt in the center of his bed naked, flushed and grinning. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting.”

  “I’m sorry.” He unzipped his jeans and crawled up the foot of the bed, bending her on her back. “How can I make it up to you?”

  “You’re off to a good start.”

  He studied her. Her hair wreathed on the bedspread, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. “You are amazing.”

  “Boy, are you going to be impressed when the spa gets done with me tomorrow. Connie and Tessa promise wonders.”

  “I’m already impressed.” He stroked his hand down her side until he reached the curve of her waist. The way his hand fit perfectly there delighted him and it was one of the places he could touch her during the day. Flesh to flesh was so much better though. “I never want to be without you. You mean everything to me.”

  Her breath hitched. “Oh, Michael.” Her lush, shining lips trembled. “I love being with you too.”

  “Whatever we have to do to make this happen, I’m willing to do it.”

  She blinked a couple of times. “I— I am too.”

  He swallowed around a lump in his throat and pressed a kiss on her shoulder, wishing he had more words to tell her what she meant to him. Her light fingers trailed down his back. He shivered, his cock straining for her. Ignoring it, he moved down her body and took her nipple into his mouth.

  Her arms tightened around him as her body coiled with desire.

  The rich scent of her filled the room. Heat and tides and sun. He didn’t need to be in Southern California. He needed to be with her. Teasing the hard knot with his tongue, he drew a moan from her. His skin ached. Everywhere he brushed against her felt electrified. This woman. This amazing woman. He’d almost missed her. If he’d gone home that night when Tony did. If she hadn’t stopped to have her brakes checked. If Tony had remembered to lock the door at the garage.

  She laced her fingers through his hair. “Make love to me. I want to feel your whole body on mine. Please. I need you.”

  Brushing his mouth over her velvet skin, he savored the flavor of her sweat tinged with smoke from the cookout and the sharp tang of her anxiety. They liked her. They had to. He would make them like her. On his knees, he pushed his jeans down, and she reached over to the table, fished a condom out of the box. Sitting up, she ripped it open. As she rolled it over him with light, teasing strokes, she held his gaze. Bear struggled to contain the welling of lust and hope in his chest. She was amazing. Just amazing.

  He slid into her with one long stroke. Clinging to him, she sobbed. He buried his face in the curve of her neck. Through his lips, he could feel her racing pulse. Her skin tasted so good. So fine and soft. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper into her. Nothing mattered but this woman. This moment. This life.

  She called out his name and clenched around him, wringing his climax from him. It blindsided him, stealing breath and thought.

  When sense came back, he was still lying on her with his face pressed into her neck and she was touching his hair.

  “I must be crushing you,” he whispered. Raising his voice took too much effort and would have shattered the still peace of the bedroom.

  “No. You’re fine.” She spoke in a whisper too. “You always make me feel like the center of the universe.”

  “Maybe I’m amazed you let me love you and I have to put on a good performance to make sure you keep coming back.”

  She chuckled. “I’ll keep coming back.”

  “Good.” Very good. No matter what he had to do to keep her, he’d do it. Quit the band, sell his house and go into business with his brother. Or stay in the band and set her up like a queen.

  And get a car with a bench seat. Bucket seats sucked for making out in.

  * * * *

  Maureen peered into the cup of “tea” that had been delivered to their table. The swampy green color didn’t look like any tea she’d ever had, but it had been served in a clear glass cup and it steamed like tea. The massage she’d just come out of hadn’t been like any massage she’d ever heard of before either.

  “So how do you feel?” Connie asked.

  “Good.” She frowned, trying to find the lie in that. Nope. No lie. “I feel lighter.” The spa experience was strange, but she could see the draw. She also liked the company. Jason’s sisters had gone out of their way to make her comfortable.

  “You look great,” Tessa said. “Doesn’t she look great?”

  “Those midwest winters are really hard on the skin.” Connie picked up her tea.

  Tessa shot her sister a dark glare before turning back to Maureen. “Not that yours was bad. You have great skin.”

  “No, that’s not what I was saying.” Connie put her tea down without tasting it. “What I meant was it’s the end of winter and your skin always takes a beating in the winter. You do have great skin. I’d have never guessed you were thirty-four.”

  Tessa closed her eyes and groaned. Connie blanched.

  “How did you know I was thirty-four?” Maureen asked. She sipped her tea. The bitter flavor complimented her mood. Up until now, she’d enjoyed her time with Tessa and Connie. Almost enough to forget they were checking her out.

  Tessa held out her hand. “You have to understand, Maureen. It’s my job to do a background check on you.”

  “A background check.” Maureen took another sip of the tea. She liked it. At the moment, better than spying Tessa and loose-lipped Connie. How much did they know? Did they do an FBI check? Her bank records? Outstanding warrants or traffic tickets? Pull her teaching license paperwork to find out if she had any affiliation with terrorist groups? Good luck digging up any dirt. There wasn’t any.

  “Nothing really invasive. Just public records.” Tessa gnawed her thumbnail.

  “It really is nothing,” Connie said. “You’ve got to understand, rock stars have two kinds of wives.”

  “Connie!” Tessa wailed.

  Maureen sat back in her seat. Tessa had leaned forward like she wanted to reach across the table and snatch her sister bald. Connie cocked her head and curled her lip. For about five seconds neither of them said anything.

  Then Tessa slouched back in her seat. “Fine.” She took a drink from her tea, breathed a heavy sigh and shook her head. “Rock stars have two kinds of wives. There’s the party wife. Usually married young and at the height of success, or at least the first success. She tends to take our boy for a wonderful ride and then take him for everything she can on the way out the door. Party wives never last.”

  “Bonnie has had her hooks in Brian for how many years now?” Connie raised one eyebrow.

  “Yeah well, I still expect to see the back of her.”

  “You hope to see the back of her.”

  “Same thing.” Tessa sneered. “Anyway, party wives are to be avoided. They’re a cash drain. Sandy likes them to be stopped at the girlfriend stage before they do any real damage and I swear they end up being half my job.”

  “Didn’t do such a great one with Desiree.” Connie pushed her empty teacup away.

  “She slipped through, but I’ve turned Bear away from three, Marc away from two others
and Jason and Ty away from one each.” Tessa ticked them off on her fingers. “My average is still good.”

  “You didn’t turn Jason away from Stella.”

  “She played a very convincing game. I thought she actually liked him for his personality. I should have known nobody would like our brother for his personality.”

  Connie nodded. “You see, Maureen, we needed to know if you’re rock star wife type two.”

  “Which is?” Maureen asked.

  “The permanent wife.” Tessa folded her hands on the table. “The permanent wife usually comes along when our rock star is over forty and settled. The career has leveled off. He’s matured to the point where he’s more interested in regular meals than rock and roll all night and party every day. She’s in for the long haul.”

  “And what kind am I?” Maureen asked. Couldn’t hurt to be plain about things. Subterfuge made her head hurt.

  “You are definitely type two.” Connie tapped her newly manicured nails on the table.

  “We know that now, but when we first heard we didn’t.” Tessa started ticking off points on her fingers again. “You came out of nowhere. Rock stars mature, on average, about ten years slower than their peers so Bear is very young to be settling down. We’ve had to pull him off this particular cliff repeatedly. That last album tanked so he’s a little vulnerable. And, he’s Bear. He gets overexcited about stuff.”

  They made him sound like a seven year old, but the fact that they’d pulled him off this cliff repeatedly didn’t sit well. How many times had Michael proposed?

  “I’m really sorry about how all this sounds, but we had to do it. Nobody wants our guys to end up with a Heather Mills McCartney.”

  “Who?” Maureen drained her teacup.

  “Especially not with Marc in the middle of his divorce.” Connie spoke at the same time.

  Tessa rolled her eyes and shuddered. “Thank God for Marc’s pre-nup.”

  “What’s going on with Marc?” Maureen leaned her chin on her hand. She’d check that other name later. Pretty soon she was going to have to get a notebook.

  “He married his little party girl five years ago against all advice and she started screwing around on him during the last tour. She was using her expense account to pay for her boytoy’s rent. Can you believe it?” Connie waved for the waitress.