by Julia London
“Cheap,” she said, knocking his hand away again. “It makes me feel cheap. Courtney does guys under the stage. Not me.”
“Holy shit!” he said, glaring at her. “Pardon a guy for trying to make love to his girlfriend.”
“You’re not trying to make love to me, Lucas. You are trying to show off, and it’s weird.” She moved to pass him, but he caught her arm.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” he barked. “Are you on the rag? PMSing? Because you have been a bitch since you got back from Texas.”
Audrey gasped. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t pull that diva shit on me, Audrey. I made you.”
“Lucas,” she said, shaking his hand from her arm. “Just leave me alone, will you?” She shoved past him, walked through the scaffolding, and tripped over cables before she reached the lights where the crew was waiting. She didn’t stop until she reached the after-show party room, which seemed to be part boiler room, part bar.
She walked in, smiling past the dozens already assembled, managing to respond to all those who told her that she and her show rocked as she made her way to the bar. She tried to help herself to a strong gin and tonic, but was intercepted by a well-meaning fan. When she at last got her hand on the drink, she downed it, feeling the burn of it all the way to her toes.
It did nothing to help the churning inside her. The room had filled with the usual group—the band and their groupies, the roadies and their groupies, the people who had won a chance to meet her and their groupies, a dozen or more people somehow associated with her that showed up after every show, and whom she’d never even met. As she helped herself to another gin and tonic, she tried to see over the heads of everyone crammed into that large square room, looking for Jack.
She couldn’t see him anywhere.
More fans found her—she had no chance to look for him, no time to breathe.
It wasn’t until a half hour later, when she had extracted herself from the clutches of one Sandy Winn, who proclaimed herself Audrey’s most avid fan and then proceeded to prove that she was, indeed, a very rabid fan, by asking Audrey to autograph her shirts, hats, and canvas tote bags, that Audrey managed to slip away and help herself to an unprecedented third gin and tonic.
Drink in hand, she backed away from the crowd, stepping beneath a large vent and leaning up against the column, out from under the lights. She turned her face up, to the fan. Nashville was hot.
The touch of a hand startled her; Audrey almost dropped her drink. She took a quick look around before turning to Jack as his fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her into the dark behind the large column.
“Where have you been?” she moaned as he slipped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her throat.
“Right here,” he murmured against her skin. He kissed her ardently, as if they had been separated days instead of hours.
Audrey’s pulse surged with excitement. She broke the kiss and looked furtively to her right. “They might see us—”
“Did you get a chance to tell him?”
“No,” she said, and shifted her gaze to the tuft of dark hair peeking out from the vee of his shirt. “I haven’t had a moment to myself. But I will. Soon.” Telling Lucas loomed like a beast in her mind, and Audrey suddenly threw her arms around Jack’s neck and held him tight. “I miss you already.”
“Me too, sweetheart.” As his hand rode her nipple, he kissed her again. Her body reacted, her breasts began to swell. She was actually contemplating another illicit encounter when he suddenly stepped away and flashed a sexy smile that suggested he knew what his touch did to her. “More of that later,” he said. “A whole lot more of that later. But right now, I think you better get back to your public.” He untangled his fingers from hers as he moved back into the shadows, leaving Audrey full of a healthy dose of angst.
The angst intensified when she finally slid out from the shadows to see that Lucas, across the room, was staring at her.
Twenty-five
Lucas knew he was losing her—he knew Audrey as well as he knew himself, and he knew that something had happened in Redhill. Something had changed her.
Goddamn the LaRues. They were pure white trash and worse, stupid. God only knew what had happened, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with that fucking bodyguard he’d hired. He needed to have Audrey’s lawyer take a look at the contract and advise him on how to get rid of that asshole.
But first, he needed to talk to Audrey. Right now, Jack Price was nothing more than a gnat on his ass—he had bigger problems if Audrey didn’t get over this funk or crush or whatever the hell it was.
Jack was not about to get on the bus and try and sleep in some coffin-like berth while Audrey slept on the other side of the bedroom door with Bonner. So he made Ted do it.
“She ain’t gonna like it, man. She likes to have you there.”
“She’ll get over it,” Jack said as he tossed Ted his bag. “See you in the morning.”
With a scowl, Ted climbed on the bus. Jack boarded the band’s bus. The guys were still partying, however, and Jack wished for a plane. He could really use a flight right now, just him and the sky, alone with his thoughts.
He hadn’t thought about anything related to his life at all in the last couple of weeks. How in the hell had he gotten himself into such a complicated mess? Why was it the first woman since Janet Ritchie that he had to go and fall in love with was Audrey LaRue?
He didn’t know when his brain had deserted him, but he couldn’t change it now if he wanted to. He was definitely into her—so much so that it scared him.
Exhausted and a little drunk, Audrey collapsed onto the bed in the bus, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the sheets. “Doesn’t anyone ever wash these things?” she complained.
“I’ll have that taken care of as soon as we get to Memphis, baby,” Lucas said, and ran his hand down her back, caressing her. “You want me to rub your back?”
He knew her back always hurt after prancing around in stilettos for two hours. A long time ago, he used to rub her back every night. Audrey didn’t mean to stiffen . . . but she did.
She closed her eyes when Lucas removed his hand. “Man, you’re in a mood,” he said gruffly.
“I’m just really tired, Lucas. And maybe a little drunk.”
“Why don’t you get a shower?” he said. “That always makes you feel better.”
It did always make her feel better, and no one knew that as well as Lucas. A little stab of guilt made her sigh; she rolled off the bed and stumbled into the little cubicle of a shower, carelessly tossing her clothes onto the floor for Lucas to pick up.
When she’d finished showering, she wrapped a towel around her and stepped out into the bedroom.
Lucas was standing there, his expression inscrutable, holding a T-shirt out to her.
“Thanks,” Audrey said, and quickly slipped it over her head.
He let his gaze move possessively over her body a moment and then said, “Here. You need underwear, too.” And he held out a pair of boxer briefs.
It took Audrey a moment to understand that they weren’t Lucas’s and they definitely weren’t hers. When the realization hit her, she jerked her gaze to her bag and saw that Lucas had dumped the contents on the bed. He had gone through her bag.
“Thanks,” she snapped, yanking the boxers from his hand and throwing them back into the bag. She dug through the pile for panties, her mind racing almost as fast as her heart.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?” Lucas asked, his voice amazingly calm.
Audrey’s hand stilled as she frantically thought of a way to answer that would soften the blow. When nothing came to mind, she sighed. The jig was up, as they say. “Lucas—”
“Just don’t lie, Audrey, because you do it so badly.”
She drew a steadying breath and turned to face him. “I slept with him,” she said softly. “But it’s not what you think.”
> “Oh yeah?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest. “What do I think?”
“I just . . . I don’t know how to say this, but . . . but the thing is, along the way . . . I fell in love with him.”
His gaze grew colder. “So . . . you’ve been fucking him all along, is that it?”
“No!” she said quickly.
“Since when?”
“Since last night.”
Lucas didn’t flinch. He was stunningly calm. “And you think you’re in love with him? That’s rich,” he said with a sardonic chuckle. “Don’t be stupid, Audrey. Don’t confuse a little fling with love. This shit happens on tour all the time. Don’t try and make it into something bigger than it is.”
He spoke to her as if she were stupid, as if she didn’t understand her own feelings. This was not a tour fling. There was something about Jack that touched her in a place she’d never been touched before. She hated how it had happened, but she wasn’t going to let it go. She might never feel this way again in her life! And looking at Lucas now, she could see years of dissatisfaction stretching before her, and the constant wondering about what might have been.
“It’s not a fling, Lucas. It’s very real. I never intended for this to happen, I never went looking for it. It just . . . happened.”
He laughed again. “Baby. Audrey . . . How can you be so naïve? It never just happens. Don’t you get it? That asshole is using you.”
“No he’s not,” she said, shaking her head and wishing desperately she hadn’t had three drinks. “Jack isn’t like everyone else. That’s the thing—he doesn’t need me for anything.”
“Oh yeah, like I do?” he asked, smirking.
Audrey bit her lip and looked down.
“Oh, so that’s the card he’s playing. Okay, let’s play it. Has he told you about his flight school?” Lucas asked. “What kind of scratch do you think he needs for that, huh? A whole lot more than he is ever going to make doing stunts.”
Audrey rolled her eyes and shifted her gaze to her bag. She didn’t want to debate and argue. She wished she could put her hands on a pair of panties—she felt terribly exposed before Lucas for the first time in years.
“Look,” he said, touching her arm and making her look up. “I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t piss me off royally that you slept with that fucking asshole. I won’t lie—I am furious with you, Audrey. I thought I knew you, and I cannot believe you would do that to me after all we have been through together. This is not you. If we have problems, we talk. You don’t go sneaking off behind my back to fuck around like your dad did.”
That hurt, and he knew it. Tears welled in Audrey’s eyes, but she angrily rubbed them out.
“You’re so much better than that,” he continued. “You’re a good person—not a whore.”
“God, Lucas, will you stop?”
“I am just calling it like I see it, baby. But here’s the thing . . . I am willing to chalk it up to experience and work to get past it.”
A lone tear slid down her cheek, and Lucas instantly reached for it, wiping it away with the pad of his thumb. “Just say you’re sorry. That’s a start.”
She pushed his hand away from her face. “I am sorry,” she said. “I never meant to hurt you, I swear I didn’t. But I won’t pretend it didn’t happen or that it didn’t mean anything. I love him.”
Lucas’s expression changed; for the first time since confronting her, he looked worried. “Audrey . . . baby, I don’t want to see you make a huge mistake. I know things have been a little stale between us, but we are on tour, for God’s sake. It’s not the most romantic time of our lives, right?”
“You know as well as I do that this has been coming for a long time—”
“Oh yeah? News to me. Don’t I even get the benefit of a discussion? Don’t I deserve at least that? If something was bothering you, you should have come to me and said so. I would move every fucking planet from the galaxy to fix it if that is what it took, you know I would. It’s not fair for you to throw away eight years of our lives just because things got a little rough for us and some guy rubbed his dick against you.”
“Please don’t say that. I know what you’ve done for me—”
“Oh, I haven’t even begun to do for you,” he said, his attitude changing again. “God, Audrey . . . you know how much I love you, don’t you? You mean the world to me, and if I haven’t said it enough lately, I’m sorry.” He took her hand in his and kissed it earnestly. “I love you, Audrey. I have practically sacrificed my career to make yours. I mean, yeah, I am opening for you, I’ve got an album out . . . but it’s just a hobby compared to the responsibility I feel toward you and your career.”
“I know that.” This was so hard. She just wanted to lie down now and close her eyes and think.
“I know you do, baby. I know you do. And if you think about it, I think you will understand that you’re just reacting to the stress of the tour. That bodyguard isn’t for you. You’re a star, Audrey. He just wants to use you like everyone else.”
“No he doesn’t. You’re wrong.”
Lucas snorted disdainfully. “That prick was chomping at the bit to get on this gig. When his partners said no because it wasn’t their scene, he came to me and practically begged me to let him do it. He told me he needed money—a lot of money—and I think he’s figured out a way to get all the money he needs.”
Her head was beginning to hurt; she sank listlessly onto the bed. Lucas sat next to her and began to rub her back. “I know that must be hard to hear, but I would never lie to you. That dickweed is no different than most of the people you meet on any given day. He wants a piece of the Audrey LaRue empire you’re building, and since he doesn’t have any musical or managerial ability, the best way for him to get what he wants is to get in your pants.”
“You’re wrong,” she said again. “I know I can’t convince you otherwise, but you’re wrong.”
“Okay,” he said. “He’s got you convinced. But what about me? I deserve more than a kick to the curb after all the years we’ve been together, don’t I? You owe me a lot more than that. You owe me a chance to work on us.”
Her headache was turning blinding. She needed to sleep—she hadn’t slept much at all in the last few days and she was exhausted and confused. “No, I . . . I don’t know. I really need to sleep.”
He continued to stroke her back. “Sleep? You destroy my life and you want to sleep? At least promise me we’ll have a chance to try and work this out. Give me a chance,” he insisted. “I know the kind of woman you are, and this isn’t it.”
Truthfully, she didn’t know what kind of woman she was any longer.
When she didn’t respond, Lucas sighed. “Mother of God, I can’t believe I am sitting here begging my girlfriend to give me a chance after she has slept with some fucking bodyguard.”
“Please let me sleep,” she begged him.
He pierced her with a hard look. “Then promise me.”
She would have no peace until she did. “I promise,” she said, hating herself for being so weak, hating Lucas for being right—because she did owe him more than just a declaration of her feelings for Jack. “I promise we can talk about it.”
“I’ll take it,” he said gruffly.
She wrapped herself in a blanket and buried her head under a pillow, aching for Jack’s warmth.
Lucas watched with a clenched jaw as Audrey slept. He wanted to strangle her, but he had to tread carefully—he was not about to let Audrey throw him out, not now, not after all he’d done to get them to where they were today. When he thought of all the work, of all he stood to lose, he saw red. Big swaths of scarlet red.
He really loved Audrey and he was stung to his mortal male core by her infidelity. He honestly didn’t believe it was more than a fling. God knew he’d had his share of meaningless indiscretions along the way. People were constantly throwing themselves at Audrey, and he supposed he could see how it had happened—not that it made him any less furious. The
key was nipping it in the bud, not letting it go any further than she’d already taken it.
He didn’t try and get in bed with her. He couldn’t stand to touch her, not right now. Not until he had managed to swallow down his hurt.
He slept on the couch in the front part of the bus.
When they pulled into Memphis the next morning, Lucas was the first off the bus. He marched into the hotel in a foul mood, and just happened to catch sight of Dickweed standing in the lobby, waiting for them. Every bone in Lucas’s body snapped to attention, and he strode over to him, his hands clenched at his sides as he struggled to keep from hitting him. “You’re fired, asshole,” he said without preamble.
“Don’t think so,” Jack said calmly. “You can’t terminate the contract without Audrey’s signature, and I don’t think she’s going to do that.”
“Oh, you don’t, cowboy? Well, guess what? She already has.”
He had to hand it to Dickweed—he didn’t even flinch.
“Where is she?” Jack asked calmly.
Lucas scoffed at him. “Did you really think you could come between us? All I had to do was tell her that you were after her money and touch her in the right place—”
“Whoa,” Jack said sharply. “Unless you feel like eating a fist for lunch, I’d stop right there.”
Lucas laughed. “Okay, Price. I won’t tell you how many times we made love last night. I’ll leave that for Audrey to tell you. Asshole,” he sneered, and walked on to the desk, his heart pounding, his palms sweating, and his desire to kill one Texan very, very strong.
He had them checked in and was back outside before Audrey managed to get off the bus. Truthfully, she looked like hell, and Lucas was glad to see it. He hoped she’d suffered all night. He had nothing but a big smile for her and caught her up in a hug before she could take a step. With his arm securely around her shoulder, he said, “Come on. Let’s grab some coffee.”
“No,” she said petulantly. “I just want to go take a bath and try and do some writing.”
