This Is Our Song

by Samantha Chase

  “I didn’t—I mean, I had no idea…”

  He grinned at her. “Yeah, you did. I saw it in your eyes and then you immediately covered it up. It’s not a big deal. I kind of appreciate it. As you can see, most people don’t react the same way.”

  She chuckled. “It was a little amusing at first, but then it seemed to turn into a bit of a frenzy.”

  He nodded.

  “What were you looking for? I mean, you were standing there in front of the Jeep for a few solid minutes. Why didn’t you just get in your car and go?”

  “Promise you won’t laugh?”

  She gave him a bit of a wicked grin. “I make no promises.”

  He laughed. “I can respect that, I suppose. Honesty.” He paused. “I just sort of ended up out here tonight. I hadn’t planned on it. I parked down by Manhattan Beach and walked and I… I couldn’t remember which way to go.”

  Savannah looked at him funny for a minute before she started laughing. “So you’re lost? Seriously?”

  “Hey, it’s raining, I’m not familiar with this part of town and I was trying to see if I could grab a cab or something…”

  That just had her laughing harder.

  “I’m not really sure what’s so funny about this…” Riley said, perplexed.

  “It’s just…” She stopped and laughed some more. “When I picture a celebrity out and about, I picture them with a driver or a bodyguard or something, and I guess you should really consider doing that because if your sense of geography is this bad—”

  “Okay, okay,” he cut her off. “Ha-ha. Yes, the lost rock star is hysterical.” He threw his head back and tried to look offended, but he ended up laughing with her.

  It took Savannah a few minutes to realize he had a really great laugh and she could appreciate his ability to laugh at himself. Taking a few steadying breaths, she finally managed to stop laughing. She had pulled out of the parking lot and was heading toward Manhattan Beach.

  “All kidding aside,” she began, “do you kind of remember where you parked?”

  Riley sat forward and looked around, shaking his head. “Honestly, I haven’t been out this way in ages. Today I just drove until I didn’t feel like driving anymore and then I stopped.” He shrugged. “Then I walked on the beach until I was hungry.”

  “Sounds a lot like my night,” she said. “Were you by the beach when you parked, or in a bigger public lot where you had to cross the street to get to the beach?”

  “By the beach,” he said.

  “And what kind of car are we looking for?”

  “It’s a black Ford pickup.”

  She looked over at him, eyes wide.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  Savannah shook her head. “Um…nothing. It’s just… I figured you more of the sports car kind of guy.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not going to lie. I do have a sports car, but I enjoy driving the truck. I blend in a little bit easier.” He stopped and looked around. “Oh, there it is!” He pointed to the far corner of the parking lot Savannah had turned into. She slammed the brakes hard, and Riley had to brace himself against the dash. “What the hell?”

  “That’s your truck?” she cried.

  “Um…maybe…”

  “You made it sound like you drive a run-of-the-mill pickup truck. That is not a vehicle that blends, Riley.” She almost sounded offended, betrayed.

  “All I said was I drive a black Ford pickup. That’s a black Ford pickup. I don’t see what the problem is.”

  With a snort of disgust, she put the Jeep in gear, drove over to his truck, and then threw the Jeep into park. “Okay, end of the line. Next time pay attention to where you’re going.”

  Riley turned in his seat and stared at her incredulously. “So that’s it? You’re just throwing me out?”

  “Uh…yeah. Why? What were you expecting?” she asked and then held up her hand. “On second thought, don’t answer that. Knowing the type of people you usually hang out with, I’m sure you would expect all kinds of things.”

  “You know, you’re pretty big on making assumptions,” he said, losing his humor.

  Savannah’s eyes went wide. “Me?”

  “Yeah, you. First there was the fact that I didn’t have a driver, then it was the kind of car I drive, and now it’s about the people I know and hang out with. What’s your deal?”

  She shrugged and just wished he’d get out of the damn car. She’d hung out with enough celebrities—primarily musicians—who were the very reason she made the assumptions she had. “I don’t have a deal. I’m just basing these observations on what I’ve witnessed—firsthand, mind you—from people who work in the entertainment industry.”

  “So you’re in the entertainment industry?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested.

  This was not the conversation Savannah wanted to be having. She knew she was going to have to tell him who she was eventually; she had simply hoped it wouldn’t be tonight. She wasn’t mentally prepared for it and was seriously regretting giving him a ride. “Yes,” she finally said. “I work in the entertainment industry.”

  “Interesting. And all the people you know drive expensive sports cars or have chauffeurs drive them around and expect sex in return for favors, do I have that right?”

  For a minute, Savannah felt the blush creeping up her cheeks. It was exactly how she’d made herself sound. “Okay…no. And I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t have judged.” She expected him to get smug and cocky. She certainly didn’t expect understanding.

  “It’s all right. I get it. It is how a lot of the industry behaves but…it’s just not my thing. Any of it.”

  “I really am sorry. I…I usually give people more of a chance, and I didn’t do that with you.” She sighed. “Anyway, I’m glad I was at least able to get you back to your truck. Do you know how to get home from here?”

  He smiled. A genuine smile—not the sexy grin he normally wore for photos. He relaxed against the door and studied her for a moment. “What is it you do for a living?”

  And here it was. Time to come clean. A small nervous chuckle escaped before she could stop it. “I’m a writer,” she said slowly and then watched him for his reaction.

  “Like an author? What have you written? I’m an avid reader.”

  “Someday I hope to have a novel of my own out there, but currently I’m a reporter. I write for Rock the World magazine.” It took a minute, but she knew the exact moment it all came together in his mind. “You may not believe this, but your phone number is in my pocket. I was planning on reaching out to you tomorrow. It seems I’m going to be doing a piece on you.”

  Riley’s smile slowly faded and his relaxed manner seemed to go tense. He straightened. “Was tonight an honest-to-goodness coincidence or did you orchestrate it?”

  Savannah wanted to take offense to his question, but she realized how bad it looked for her right now. Riley was well within his rights to come to this conclusion. “It really was a coincidence. Maybe I should have said something sooner, but…” She shrugged. “There didn’t really seem a way to throw it into the conversation.”

  He sighed loudly and raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t even… Wow. I just have no idea what I’m supposed to say to all of this.”

  “I know it’s been a weird night and all, but maybe we can meet up tomorrow—under normal circumstances—and just sort of pretend tonight didn’t happen.” Her expression was hopeful and if Riley’s reputation was anything to go by, she felt pretty certain he would go along with her suggestion.

  “I don’t know,” he said warily. “I’m sure you’re aware of my hesitance in doing this interview.”

  Nodding, Savannah reached out and placed her hand on his arm and realized there was a lot of muscle there. Focus! “I’ll be equally honest with you, Riley. I’m not so keen on doing the interview myself.”r />
  Now his eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s a long story,” she said, hoping he’d let it go at that.

  “I’ve got nothing but time, sweetheart.” It wasn’t an endearment.

  Savannah rolled her eyes and pulled her hand back. She shared with him how she had gotten the assignment and the one she’d lost. “I’m a damn good writer,” she said when Riley stayed silent. “I’ll admit something about you makes me jump to the wrong conclusions, but I’m hoping after tonight to get a better grip on it.”

  Riley simply continued to glare at her.

  Apparently he was Mr. Nice Guy to other people, but he certainly wasn’t ready to maintain that persona here. “Look, I can keep apologizing all night long, but I can’t change the way we met. Rather than being all pissy with me, how about remembering that I got you out of that mob a little while ago? Or maybe look at your truck-on-steroids over there and remember that you would still be walking in the rain looking for it if it weren’t for me!” She was breathing raggedly after her little outburst, but she wasn’t quite done. “Now I’ll admit I’m not thrilled with writing this story on you, or even on anyone like you, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do a kick-ass job on it. I was honest with you, Riley. You should appreciate that. If you were looking for someone to come in and kiss your ass and stroke your ego, then you’re out of luck. It’s not who I am, and I don’t plan on changing for you. But if you want to get the word out there on who you really are and you’re interested in being taken seriously, then I’m the perfect person for you.”

  She gasped when she realized what she said and quickly tried to correct it. “I mean for the story! I’m the perfect person to write the story!”

  Riley still didn’t look convinced.

  “Fine,” she huffed. “I’m not going to grovel. Do the story. Don’t do the story. It’s not a big deal to me. If you back out, there’re no consequences for me. Now, maybe you have nothing but time, but I don’t. It’s been a long day and I have a long drive home.” She hoped Riley would take the hint and get out, but he stayed firmly in his seat.

  Damn him.

  “Were there going to be consequences if you refused to write the story?” he asked quietly, his eyes never leaving hers.

  Unable to stand his intense scrutiny, Savannah looked away. “I’ll lose my job.” Her voice was equally quiet as she studied her hands.

  “I see.”

  Savannah was just about to plead with him one last time when the interior light came on. She looked up to see Riley getting ready to climb out of the Jeep. “You’re…you’re going?”

  He nodded. “I think it’s for the best.”

  “But…um…” She paused and cleared her throat. “Do you—I mean, would you like to get together tomorrow?”

  “It depends,” he said, his voice a little softer than before.

  “On?”

  “I feel at a bit of a disadvantage here. You know who I am and I’m sure you know a lot about me. I, on the other hand, know nothing about you. Not even your name.”

  Oh. That. Holding out her hand, Savannah did her best to at least try to be professional. “Savannah Daly.” When Riley took her hand in his, she almost sighed. It was big and warm and his skin felt rougher than she imagined.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Savannah Daly,” he said, a slow smile crossing his face. Riley continued to hold her hand. “So about tomorrow—”

  “It’s up to you,” she said quickly. “My only job for the next month is to interview you and write the story. I’m prepared to work around your schedule.” The truth was she wasn’t really prepared for that, but the words were out before she could stop them.

  Riley’s smile grew.

  “I’ll tell you what. You give me your phone number, and I’ll call you tomorrow to set up a time.”

  Savannah tried to pull her hand back—which she was surprised to find he was still holding—as she frowned. “Why can’t we just decide on it now? Why wait?”

  He shrugged. “I’m still coming to grips with this whole thing,” he replied. “I’d like to have a little time to think things over.” His thumb lightly stroked her wrist. “And I would imagine you’re feeling the same way too.”

  She couldn’t speak so she nodded.

  “Okay then,” he said, his voice a little lower. Slowly, his hand released hers. It was a slow glide of skin on skin, and Savannah almost moaned at the sensation. Riley shifted a bit, pulled out his cell phone, and entered Savannah’s number as she dictated it to him. “Well, Savannah, it’s been an interesting night.”

  “Yes,” she said and cleared her throat again. “Yes it has.”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He climbed down from the Jeep and faced her one last time. “Be careful driving home.”

  “You too.” She almost wanted to kick herself for how breathy her voice suddenly was.

  Riley gave her one last smile before closing the door. Savannah watched and waited while he climbed into his truck and got it started. She really hoped he knew how to get home but figured a truck like that had a GPS system in place to help him.

  With a sigh, she pulled away and began to wonder how she was going to survive spending the next month with Riley Shaughnessy if just one touch of his hand and one lingering smile practically stole her breath away.

  * * *

  Finally a perk to being forced to do this damn interview!

  Driving home, Riley was damn near euphoric. Savannah Daly. He smiled. The name fit. Never could he have imagined the intriguing woman he met at dinner was going to come back into his life in such a spectacular way.

  Her initial dislike was apparent and he appreciated her honesty. He wasn’t intimidated by it. If anything, it was going to make the entire process a lot more interesting. Riley had never had a problem with winning people over—even those haters who insisted on how much they disliked his music eventually gave him a smile and a compliment after they talked for a few minutes.

  And so had Savannah by the time he climbed out of the Jeep.

  As he drove down the freeway, images of her played in his mind. It wasn’t the best time for it to be happening but he couldn’t seem to stop them. Her long hair intrigued him—he wondered how long it really was and how it would feel when she took the clip out. And those eyes. Were they blue? Were they violet?

  She dressed like a bit of a badass—black skinny jeans, black T-shirt, and silver jewelry. Nothing frilly or overly feminine, and yet he could equally imagine her in silk and lace. He’d bet she looked spectacular in leather too.

  He groaned.

  And then it hit him—he hadn’t seen her fully. Both times—in the restaurant and the Jeep—she’d been sitting down. He couldn’t wait to see her figure standing in front of him in the light of day. But for now, a guy could use his imagination, right?

  By the time he arrived back at his place, his mind had created quite a vivid picture. He both prayed it was accurate and prayed it wasn’t. If it was accurate, he was in deep trouble. He’d probably spend the majority of their time together with his tongue hanging out.

  Probably not the best way to win the girl over—by drooling.

  This whole project was wreaking havoc on his life. First he was against it and now he was all for it. Hell, if he’d thought for a minute that Savannah would have gone for it, he would have invited her to get started tonight. But she had a long drive home.

  They had a month. Could he stretch an interview out that long? After all, he still had the problem with getting the album finished. Now was definitely not the time to be messing around with a reporter or a woman.

  And now he had both those things rolled into one glorious package.

  He just hoped he survived them both.

  * * *

  It was still raining the next morning when Riley got up. The sound of it the prev
ious night had lulled him to sleep, but by now he was ready to see the sun again.

  With his morning cup of coffee, he sat down on the sofa, pulled out his phone, and looked at Savannah’s number. He wanted to call her and talk to her—and it had nothing to do with the damn interview.

  The interview.

  He groaned. There were a million reasons why he didn’t want to do it and only one reason he did. Everything had seemed fairly cut-and-dried yesterday. He’d come to grips with doing the piece as long as he did it on his terms. But meeting Savannah had changed everything. Now he was torn. If he did the interview, would he be able to do it without making it about getting Savannah to like him? Would he be able to keep himself detached?

  And would he be able to keep his hands to himself?

  Yeah, that was going to be a tough one.

  Cursing, he began scrolling through his contacts. He needed to talk to someone. Not Mick. His manager would tell him to do the interview and stop overthinking it. That wasn’t what he was looking for right now. He needed advice. Normally—where women were concerned—Riley didn’t seek out anyone’s help. He’d never had a problem there. But for some reason his initial reaction to Savannah scared him.

  Should he call Aidan? Maybe. Aidan and Zoe’s relationship had pretty much scared the crap out of his oldest brother. Riley chuckled. It had been kind of amusing to hear that his normally staid brother was so thrown for a loop by the woman who was now his wife.

  Or maybe he should call Hugh. He’d spent a lot of time with Hugh right after he’d met Aubrey. That was another interesting relationship he had watched develop. Aubrey had managed to make his overcautious brother lose some of his inhibitions, and for that Riley was glad. But they’d just had a baby, and he was sure his brother had better things to do than give him relationship advice.

  There was always Quinn. Then Riley shook his head. It had taken Quinn over twenty years to realize Anna Hannigan was in love with him. Probably not the best guy to ask about how to proceed with a woman. Although it was nice that Quinn and Anna were now engaged and planning their wedding.