by Jane Anthony
KADE:
A Second Chance Rock Star Romance
Jane Anthony
KADE: A Second Chance Rock Star Romance
Copyright © Jane Anthony 2016
All rights reserved
Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without proper written permission from the author.
Cover Design by:
Cassy Roop, Pink Ink Designs
Editing by:
Nichole Strauss, Perfectly Publishable
Proofreading by:
Jenny Sims, Editing4Indies
Formatting by:
Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable
Table of Contents
KADE: A Second Chance Rock Star Romance
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Epilogue
About the Author
Other novels by Jane Anthony
Acknowledgements
Steph and Rod Forever
CHAPTER 1
THE SHRILL RINGING in my room is like a five-alarm fire drill. It’s six a.m. For a split second, I think it’s just another ordinary day—alarm goes off, I get up and make some coffee, and wake up Shay. But today is anything but ordinary.
The disastrous events of the last couple of years roll through my mind as I get dressed. There has to be some small detail I’ve forgotten. Something that didn’t seem important at the time, but might have been a clue about what was going on. But try as I might, nothing stands out. In fact, the more I think about it, the more of a blur the last few years of my life become.
Quietly I sit, sipping my coffee and watching the clock. Every tick closer to nine seems like another inch closer to doomsday. My stomach’s in knots, and my heart is ready to burst out of my chest. I can’t do anything to stop this. It is what it is, and I have to move on, but it’s so damned hard, I can barely breathe. Like it or not, today is the start of my new life. First stop: divorce court.
***
“Congratulations on finally dumping that weight around your ankle!” My best friend, Jenny, sits in my kitchen, watching the coffee I made her go cold. She never fully understood my lifestyle choice. To Jenny, getting married is like a fate worse than death. She claims to love the ‘newness’ of relationships. First kisses, stolen glances, the rush of someone new between the sheets. Her personal motto has always been ‘once the butterflies disappear, so do I.’ She’s my best friend, my confidant, and my polar opposite in every way.
“He isn’t an ankle weight, Jenny. Ugh, why am I still defending that horse’s ass? What is wrong with me?” I reply, trying to rub out the tension headache that’s forming between my eyes.
Regardless of what Jenny thinks, I love my life. Loved my life. It was quiet and safe. Bob worked and took care of the bills, while I stayed home with our daughter, Shay. Life was perfect. Until that home-wrecking slut joined our family.
Starting a new dental practice meant long hours for Bob. Keeping the house, Bob’s books, and making time for a very active toddler was pushing me to the limit. The answer to all my problems was Cami.
She was young, energetic, and could play games with Shay for hours. She was a godsend. So much so that even when the practice took off, Bob insisted we keep her. I told him if he was home more, it was silly to have the nanny come so often, but he was adamant. Besides, Shay loved her. She’d become part of the family.
As usual, Bob spoke, and I quietly went along.
I was so blind.
“The only thing wrong with you is that you allowed that pompous asshat to run your life for far too long. You earned yourself a scholarship to art school, graduated summa cum laude, then just resigned yourself to a life of servitude to that dictator you called a husband. Once you get out in the real world, you’ll see there is way more to live for than life in the suburbs with Dr. Bob.”
Easy for her to say. She’s pretty and blond and doesn’t have a single stretch mark on her flawless porcelain skin. She practically lives at the gym. I, on the other hand, am short with unruly curls and boring brown eyes. My hourglass figure makes it hard to dress, and my weekly Zumba classes aren’t really doing as much as I’d hoped for my post-baby bod. I’m hopeless. I wasted all my pretty years on Bob. He was my first and only everything.
I was just sixteen when we met. He was a senior, captain of the football team, and I couldn’t believe someone that popular would actually date me, the shy art nerd. It seemed like all the girls in our school were practically lining up to date him.
When he asked me out, I thought he was joking. Blond, handsome, and built, he could have had anyone he wanted. He was like a teen heartthrob. The kind of guy girls swoon over in TigerBeat magazine. And, for some strange reason, he wanted me. Why me? I was a mouse. A dust mite. A piece of cellophane. You could walk right by me and never even know I was there.
In hindsight, that’s probably what he liked about me the most. I let him control everything. He made the plans, and I tagged along, happy and content just being in his company. Bob was my world. I would have done anything to make him happy, but he never was. Nothing was ever enough for him. He just wanted more. More money, more things . . . more women.
My eyes well up with tears as the memories wash over me. No matter how hard I try, I can’t pinpoint exactly when everything fell apart. I’d been so busy deluding myself into thinking everything was fabulous that I’d overlooked so many things.
Jenny’s face softens as the first tear trickles down my cheek. “God, I’m so pathetic,” I whine.
“No, you’re not, Ains,” she says softly, taking my hands in hers. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss Bob when I know how badly you’re hurting.”
“No, it’s not your fault. You’re right. I know Bob isn’t worth all these tears, it’s just . . .” Saying it out loud somehow makes it feel that much more real. Bob and Cami looked so cozy sitting side by side in the courtroom earlier, while I sat there alone feeling fat and depressed. He promised me happily ever after, but he destroyed that vow along with my heart.
Jenny rips a paper towel from the holder near the sink, dabbing my tears the way she’d done a hundred times in the last year. When everything fell to hell, Jenny was the only one in my corner. A true friend like her is a rare commodity. She’s always had my back.
***
“Give us two beers, two shots of tequila, and keep ’em coming!” Jenny shouts. I shoot her a look, and she shoots me one right back. “Your daughter is with your parents, and you’re a free woman. Live a little!”
The Blue Stone Bar and Grill is jam packed full of professionals in suits getting their happy hour buzz on. Being out at five o’clock is alien to me. Normally, I’d be rushing around to prepare dinner for my family. Where I belong.
Skipping the shot, I reach for my beer. “Getting hammered isn’t going to help my situation, and I have a lot to do tomorrow after I pick up Shay from my parents’ house.”
“Oh, yeah. The ‘Family Vacation,’” replies Jenny, using air quotes, her voice dripping with disdain. Our yearly vacation was always a big event. Bob had it in his head that he was a successful dentist, and as such, we should be taking vacations that “make people jealous.” He’s so pompous sometimes. Shay and I would have been just as happy at the Jersey Shore, but Bob needed bells and whistles. He needed to travel, see the world.
Last year, we spent three weeks in Egypt. It was hot, and the food was terrible, but Bob loved it. We’d briefly discussed doing a month in Europe this year, and I’d assumed that with everything going on, that plan had left the table. Imagine my surprise when I found out he and Shay still intended to go—with Cami. “How are you holding up with all that?”
“I’m dealing with it.” It’s a lie. I know it, and Jenny knows it. In reality, I’m hanging on by a thread. Not that I was dying to go, but the thought of being without Shay for a whole month makes me want to crawl in a hole and cover myself with dirt. It’s like going a month without water. Impossible. Losing her every other weekend is hard enough. I half considered telling her she couldn’t go, but she’s so excited. How can I say no?
“Well, what if I told you I might be going on a little extended vacation of my own?” Jenny’s Cheshire Cat grin spreads from ear to ear. It always seems unintentionally devious. Or maybe it just seems that way because whenever I see it, I somehow know trouble is lurking around the corner. My mother refers to her as “That Jenny.” As in, “What has ‘That Jenny’ gotten you into this time?”
The idea of her taking a vacation is new information. Jenny doesn’t do anything without running it by me first. She’s the type of girl who uses the bathroom while talking on the phone. Crude yet hilarious at the same time.
“I couldn’t say anything until it was official, but I took on a new client at my PR firm. We’d been in discussions for months, and it was killing me not being able to tell you, but you know how it is.”
I nod, but in reality, I have no idea how it is. Jenny is one of the most successful people I know. She started her own public relations firm from the ground up and worked tirelessly until it was a pretty big name in the industry. She represents many famous people and always has the best gossip. I have so much insider information I could probably write a book.
“Brace yourself for this one. It’s Black Diamond.”
The frosty carbonation lodges in my windpipe, causing a teary-eyed choking fit. She’s going to be working with Black Diamond. Black. Diamond. Just hearing the band’s name makes me want to pump my fists in the air. Black Diamond has been my favorite band since college—a fact I’ve kept well hidden in my current social circle. I’m not sure poetic lyrics like ‘close those eyes and let me love you to death’ fit in with the Coldplay crowd that generally surrounded me.
Every word drips with erotic torment. Not only are they heavy and loud, but their lead singer, Kade Black, is the epitome of hot rocker dude. He’s vulgar and cocky with a voice sexy enough to make me break out in a sweat. And the bod on him . . . don’t even get me started. It should be illegal for one man to be that hot. It’s not fair to the rest of the world. Needless to say, Bob hates Black Diamond.
“So they are starting their East Coast tour in a couple of days, and I’ll be going with them to revamp their promotion for it. Kade is apparently a huge hothead, and they want to bring me along to defuse any potential situations right away,” she continues, bouncing up and down in her seat with excitement. “Why are you looking at me like that? Aren’t you excited?”
My lashes flap as I collect my thoughts and wipe the deadpan expression off my face. I am excited. However, I hate to admit that I’m also a little jealous. It isn’t Jenny’s fault, but I’m having trouble processing her amazing news while still feeling so overwhelmingly sorry for myself. I’m not ready to end my pity party just yet, but I plaster on a supportive grin anyway. Jenny loves the band as much as I do; I need to stop being so childish. “Yes. Holy crap, that’s incredible! Congratulations!”
“Well, there’s more. The idea of hanging out alone on some crappy tour bus didn’t exactly thrill me. I mean, what if these guys all turn out to be douchebags? That would suck, right? I’m bringing an assistant to help out.”
“Oh, that’s cool! You guys will have so much fun!” I down the untouched shot in front of me. I need a solid buzz if I’m going to have to feign happiness all night. “Who are you bringing with you?”
Her grin dazzles so brightly you could probably see it from space. “You.”
Clearly, she’s had too many shots of tequila. Jenny’s manicured fingers close around my arm. “Did you hear me, Ainsley? We’re going on tour with Black Diamond!”
“You’re nuts! I can’t just drop everything and go on tour with a rock band. I’m a grown-up. I have responsibilities,” I say, shooing her away with my free hand.
“What responsibilities? Shay is going to be in Europe this summer with Bob—the family trip you are supposed to be on, might I add. You were all geared up to leave town for a month anyway. You’re just trading in Europe for a tour bus full of hotties!”
The woman has lost her damn mind.
It’s absurd. I’m a thirty-year-old housewife. I can’t go on a tour bus full of rock stars . . . can I? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, for sure. The air in the bar is stagnant and hot, but the mere thought of being in such close quarters with Kade Black causes my skin to prickle.
Overhead, the song fades out, and a low growl bursts through the speakers. I know this song. Title track, “Demon Speedway”, Black Diamond’s debut album. It’s a sign. I’ve had a shit year, an even worse day, and I deserve this.
Kade’s voice belts out the chorus:
Livin’ fast and dyin’ young,
Our wicked journey’s just begun.
Take a ride with me, baby, racing down the demon speedway.
I close my eyes and seal my fate. “When do we leave?”
CHAPTER 2
PULLING UP TO my childhood home, I wish I were anywhere else. The dentist? A firing squad, perhaps? Anywhere but here. I just know the second I walk in that house my mother is going to start in on her crap again. She’s so old-fashioned. She and my father were married right out of high school, and she spent the last thirty-three years waiting on him hand and foot. With a role model like that, it’s no wonder I turned out to be Bob’s Stepford Wife.
My mother stands poised at the sink, scrubbing the porcelain basin. “Hey Ma, is Shay up yet?”
“Hi dear, come in. Yeah, she is upstairs packing her bag.” Her incessant scrubbing stops as she turns to greet me. “This is the way you leave the house? No wonder he ran off with that young girl. At least put on some makeup. You look exhausted.” She pats her damp hands over the tight curls framing her forehead to press down any flyaway strands that may have come loose. I roll my eyes. She has on a full face of makeup just to clean the house. My mother: Mrs. Perfect.
“He didn’t leave me because I run errands without makeup, Mom. Can we please not go into this now? I’ve had a rough night as it is.” T
he corners of my mouth turn down. Her harsh words cut deep. She’s right. I feel haggard and old, and it’s written all over my face.
As the court date neared, I found it difficult to sleep, the finality of it all hitting me harder every time my head hit the pillow. First Bob left, and now, he’s taking Shay with him. To make matters worse, my inner turmoil turns to fear when I consider the possibility that Shay may want to live with her father and Cami instead of me. Shay adores her. Cami is young, pretty, and fun. Everything I know I’m not.
“Well, you obviously weren’t doing something right at home. Men just don’t up and leave their wives for no reason, Ainsley.”
“Why are you always taking his side? You’re my mother. I would assume you would be more supportive. He is the one who broke my heart and tore our family apart. I’m trying to figure out how you see this as my fault. I wasn’t the one screwing around!”
She turns back to the sink and resumes scrubbing the nonexistent dirt. “You should have tried harder, that’s all I’m saying. You could have forgiven him. When I was younger, you didn’t throw away a marriage. You learned to fix it and move on. Vows are forever, Ainsley.”
Apparently, Bob hadn’t gotten the memo.
The stabbing sting of her words stick in my heart. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation again. Tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to release them in front of her. There’s no point. “I am moving on, Mom, and you need to, too. I don’t need you to rub salt in the wound.”
“Hey, Mommy!” Shay calls as she bounds into the kitchen, her messy blond ponytail swinging behind her. “Grammy and me painted our nails, and we baked a cake. She even let me eat a piece for breakfast!”
“Oh, did she? Sounds like you two had a great girls’ night!” I say, embracing my daughter. She’s wearing her Super Girl tee, complete with attached cape. Her fascination with superheroes started as a toddler and never really ended. Bob never got it. He has no sense of whimsy. “We have to go now, though; we have so much to do before you leave for Europe with Daddy.”
