“I tell you what,” Kym said, steeling herself. “I’m going to go to bed. You can either call whomever you need to, tell them whatever, and stay, or you can go. Entirely up to you. No harm, no foul.”
She kissed his mouth, savoring the coolness of his lips, and got up, walking into her bedroom. As she crawled under the covers, her ears were pinned on the sound coming from the living room. She couldn’t hear him talking to anyone.
Damn. Damn it. She squeezed her eyes shut and told herself to fall asleep. He was obviously going home.
It was with surprised delight when she felt the bed dip and his body slip under the covers, pulling her next to him. She turned over to face him, smiling.
“You stayed,” she whispered as he bent his head to kiss her. He rubbed his nose against hers.
“I stayed, Kymberly,” he replied, and then their limbs were tangling and they began to make love.
“Dada? Can we have some candy?”
The tall, dark-haired man smiled. “For someone who’s so fussy about what he eats, Roman, my lad, you can sure put away some sugar. There’s a bodega up here. We’ll stop there …but don’t tell your mom.”
“Mother doesn’t talk much to us anymore,” Otis said, finally looking up from the book he was reading. Roman nudged his brother and frowned at him. He looked up to see Dada watching them in the rearview mirror and flushed. Since Mother and Dada stopped loving each other, it had been weird, and whenever either brought the other into the conversation, Roman would get a sick feeling.
Dada pulled the car over and they all got out. Inside the bodega, there was smells of cooking, fruit, and newspaper ink. Roman and Otis headed straight for the candy aisle. Roman grabbed some gummy bears and a pack of sour gum and left Otis, wandering off to look at the comics. He saw the paper, a picture of President Carter talking about the Olympics in Russia. He started to read the article before a guy snatched a copy of it and Roman, jumping at the sudden movement, abandoned the rack. He went to find Dada. His father was talking in a low tone to a scruffy guy Roman had never seen before. Dada was gesturing slowly, his hands making a gesture Roman recognized as a calming one; he’d seen Dada use that same motion when his mother had been angry. Roman frowned and approached cautiously.
Then everything changed. Otis, having gotten bored with choosing his candy, decided to ambush his brother and did a banshee yell as he jumped on Roman’s back. Roman saw the scruffy guy’s face contort with fright and in a split second he saw the gun as the man swung it around to point at them. The world slowed down and he heard his father shout. Roman squeezed his eyes shut just as his ears burst with the shock of three loud gunshots. He opened his eyes, wanting to see the world one last time, but there was no pain—only the sight of his father whirling around to face his children. Roman didn’t understand what he was seeing—his dada’s white shirt was red and there were holes in Dada’s throat and in his face and …no, Dada, no, no, no…
Roman kicked out as he screamed and it was only when Kym threw her whole body on top of his, her voice soothing, that he calmed. “Roman, Roman, it’s okay. It’s just a dream. A dream, baby. It’s okay …”
It finally broke through. Roman slumped back on the bed, soaked with sweat, Kym’s hands on his face, stroking his cheeks, and smoothing the damp hair away from his forehead.
“Roman …it’s okay, I’m here. I’m here …”
“Kym …” A rush of emotion overcame him and he ground his mouth down on hers, flipping her onto her back.
“Roman, are you okay?” Kym’s eyes were wide and shocked, but he growled as he took her nipple into his mouth.
“Just a dream,” he said. “I’m okay. I just want to …”
Kym tangled her fingers in his hair as Roman began to make love to her, but inside she was quaking. What the hell had he been dreaming about? The suddenness of his awakening had shocked her, as did his desperate need to fuck and feel that connection. She really didn’t know anything about him, she realized. Roman Ford was still a mystery to her …but it was too late to deny her heart now. She was falling in love with him …
Bay swam the length of the hotel’s swimming pool, enjoying the feeling of the water streaming through her hair and along her limbs. She was in Portland for the last day of press events for the single. Thank god. Two solid weeks traveling around with Kym’s mom had been trying and there had been many a time when she had wanted to walk away from the woman before she punched her. The only good thing was that, now, Bay felt she knew Kym better—what she’d had to put up with all those years and how narcissistic and self-involved her parents had been. She wondered that Kym had turned out as level-headed as she did—then grinned to herself. Yup, level-headed is definitely running out on your life. She wondered every day where Kym was and had tried to get Tom to find out where Roman was, but nothing doing.
Back in her room, she showered and dress quickly—a simple tea dress over leggings. She pulled open the door to find Pete about to knock.
“Ready to rock?”
She grinned at him. “Last day,” she whispered conspiratorially and Pete chuckled.
“Word. Emily just told me Quartet has moved the single up to tomorrow so …”
Bay sighed. “Good. The sooner it’s out, the sooner it’ gone and we’ll have something to show for this.”
They met with Charlie and a fraught-looking Emily, who were deep in discussion, Charlie gesturing effusively. She smiled when she saw them.
“I hope you don’t mind …I was just telling Emily that we might reconsider the artwork. Just because putting my name first on the record might make the sales pop.”
“Thought we’d already discussed this …many, many times.” Bay couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “You were brought onto our project, remember? As a favor?”
Charlie rocked back from the annoyance in Bay’s voice. “‘A favor?’ To me? Don’ forget who’s the star around here.”
Emily opened her mouth, but having finally had enough, Bay stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Charlie, I know you’re a star. I’ve known it since I was a teenager and your daughter—remember her?—would spend all day and all night with me because you couldn’t be bothered to arrange adequate care. I was there the day the star missed sports days, recitals, and prom. The night we opened at the Paramount. When Stuart Lawson beat your daughter so badly she ended up in hospital. When she was kidnapped, for the love of God—where the fuck was the star then?”
Bay was aware that she was shouting now, getting in Charlie’s face with her anger, hurt, and love for her best friend and the shitty way this particular star had brought her up. “And then,” Bay gave an astonished shake of her head. “You wanted to jump into her band and take her place. You are unbelievable. I …”
At some point, Pete picked Bay up and carried her off as she still ranted at Charlie, who looked shell-shocked. Pete wrangled Bay back to her room, wrestling her into a chair. “Calm down. Bay, look at me …calm down.” He trapped her in the cage of his big arms, staring her down until she stopped raging. Then she looked at him with huge eyes.
“Oh shit. Oh shit …Pete …” Pete locked his arms around her as she began to sob. Emily let herself in a few minutes later and saw them. Pete nodded to her and she stepped back outside and pressed a number on her phone.
“Tom …it’s Emily. We need you. Bay needs you.”
The idea had been bubbling away in her mind all morning as she cooked pancakes for herself and Roman. Waking up next to him, she had asked him gently if he was okay, and instead of answering, he’d made love to her, slowly and tenderly. She couldn’t resist him in those moments, but now, she realized he had diverted her attention again. He was hiding something.
“Damn, those smell good.” Roman pressed his lips down on her shoulder.
“Almost done.”
As they ate, he asked her what she was doing that day. “Working,” she said idly. “Cal wants to do a stock check today, so I’ll be there all day.”
“That would be wonderful.” She kissed him. “What are you going to do today?” Light, breezy, and totally not loaded, she hoped.
“Scouting for premises. I think it’s time Quartet opened a NoLa branch. What do you think?”
Kym put down her fork. “Roman…”
“This isn’t about you, Kym. I’m not about to pressure you into going back into the music business. It’s just good sense for me to be here as much as possible …especially now.” His smile made her heart soar.
So, she felt kind of bad when she followed him. He obviously wanted to spend more time with her—but why was he so secretive about where he was living? He had kissed her goodbye and she’d given him a couple of minutes before she had walked the same way she knew he was going. It wasn’t hard to see him, as tall as he was, even through the early morning tourists that thronged down to the Quarter.
Seven blocks north of her apartment, she saw Roman tug out some keys and go into a house there. She stood just around the corner, waiting. After thirty minutes, she was ready to give up, but then the door opened and Roman came out carrying a bag. Kym’s heart began to beat faster as a pretty, blonde woman followed him out. For a moment, Roman blocked Kym’s view of his companion, then as he moved around her, Kym saw her and her heart began to fail in her chest.
The woman was hugely pregnant. As Kym’s eyes filled with angry tears, she watched Roman help the woman into his car and saw him laughing with her and smiling, his face full of love.
“You bastard. You utter bastard.” She murmured the words, but it felt like she was shouting them. Screaming them. She turned away from the happy scene and ran, block after block after block, not seeing where she was going and ignoring the horns of the motorists she ran out in front of, just running from yet another heartache.
She had no idea how she got home that day.
Emily had managed to cover up the evidence of Bay’s spectacular meltdown in the press, even managing to console and cajole a fuming Charlie into finishing off the interviews herself—and not trashing the band. Pete was keeping a strict eye on Bay, who he’d ordered to bed until Tom got there.
Emily was furiously texting when she saw Shae Groves in the reception, asking for Bay.
“Hey, how come you’re here?” Emily greeted Shae and the other woman hugged her.
“Tom called me and told me what happened. He asked me to come see if I could help. He’s trying to get a flight now.”
Emily sighed. “I’m glad you’re here. Come on, I’ll take you up.”
As they rode the elevator to the seventh floor, Emily filled Shae in on what had happened.
“I don’t think any of us are surprised—except maybe Charlie,” she said with a grin. “This has been coming on for a while.”
“Tom said the same.” Shae shook her head. “I knew I should have gotten her better counseling.”
Emily looked doubtful. “Not sure that would have made a difference. In a weird way, I think this needed to happen. I just wish it had happened before we had started a new campaign. Poor Pete, too. He’s really been through the mill. I think he might be thinking of forgetting the whole thing.”
“Oh, I hope not. Look, we knew Bay’s recovery wouldn’t just be physical …and with Kym’s distance …”
“Yeah.” Emily sighed and knocked on Bay’s door. Pete opened it and gave them a smile.
“She’s pretending to be asleep,” he said to Shae. “So go on in.”
Shae chuckled and hugged him. “You’re a good man, Peter Espinoza.” Pete hugged her back.
“She’s my little sister,” he said simply. “We stick together …well, most of us.”
Emily and Pete went down to the bar and ordered some drinks. “Cruella still in the interviews?”
“Last one, then she’s on a plane back to Nashville.”
“Dong dong, the witch is dead.”
“You’re really mixing up your movies there.”
“Meh,” Pete said good naturedly, picking at a bowl of chips and salsa. Emily studied him.
“Pete? What if the band folds? What if Bay can’t get over this?”
Pete shoved two large tortilla chips into his mouth. “She will. Don’t you worry about that. But if Bay decides she doesn’t want to do this—no harm, no foul. I love being in this band, but you know what I love more? Hank. Our life together. We’re adopting. Did you know that?”
“I didn’t. That’s wonderful!” Emily threw her arms around the big man, grateful for the good news and delighted for him. She adored Pete and Hank together; they were her inspiration to make her and Dash’s relationship work.
As if reading her mind, Pete grinned at her. “When are you going to make an honest man out of Dashiell, then?”
Emily rolled her eyes. “Ha. A long, long time in the future. I’m just working on him becoming an adult at this point.”
Pete laughed. “Aren’t you younger than him?”
“It’s Dash,” she said with feeling, then laughed with him. “God, Pete, you are a walking anti-depressant. Anyone tell you that?”
Pete half-smiled. “Wish I could be that for my two girls.”
She squeezed his hand. “It’ll all work out in the end. I promise.”
She hoped she wasn’t lying to him.
Shae came out of Bay’s room just as Tom walked into the hotel room. After saying their hellos, Shae told him Bay was asleep.
“I gave her something to help her sleep. She clearly has PTSD. I don’t need to be a psychologist to diagnose her with that. It’s pretty obvious. But,” she added, seeing Tom sigh, “Now we can begin to help her. Therapy, along with medication, and she’ll get through this, I promise. The question is …what about you?”
Tom looked up. “Hey, I’m okay as long as she is. It’s been rough, yeah, but she’s alive and we’re together. There isn’t anything we can’t overcome like that.”
Shae smiled at him. “You are a very special man, Tomas Meir. Look, I’m sorry about this, but I’ve been paged back to the hospital. Call me if you need anything.”
Tom pulled his jacket off, kicked his shoes into the corner of the room, and lay down beside her. Bay, lying on her stomach, opened her eyes. He stroked her hair.
“I hear you had a nutty,” he whispered and was glad when she laughed.
“I did. On Kym’s mom.”
Tom nodded. “Well, then, she probably deserved it.”
Bay chuckled softly and wriggled into his arms. “Pete had to haul me bodily away from her before I went ham.”
Tom looked confused. “Is that some young person word I’m not privy to?”
“Hard as a motherfucker. Really, grandpa.”
“Sorry, young ‘un. Are you okay?”
“I think so. Shae was kind; she’s going to refer me to some shrink in Seattle.”
“Frasier Crane?”
“Or Niles.” They both laughed. “I’m sorry about this.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I was kind of expecting this.”
Bay sighed and tilted her head up to him, pressing her lips against his. “How did I live without you?”
“Ditto, beautiful. Bay, if there’s anything I can do to help you, I’ll do it. Just say the words.”
Bay looked at him for a long time and then said in small voice. “Kym.”
He nodded and smiled. “Leave it with me.”
When Bay had gone back to sleep, Tom stepped out from the bedroom and called Roman. Voicemail. “Rome, call me back. We need to talk.”
Kym called in sick for three days, claiming the flu. Cal, despite her Oscar-winning performance, was suspicious, but she kept the pretense up.
Roman called the first night, banging on her door. She didn’t answer him then, or on the second night. The third night, there was no one banging on the door. Instead, a note pushed under it.
Talk to me.
&nb
sp; Kym sat in the tub now, the water rapidly losing its heat, but she didn’t notice. She may not have been actually sick, but she felt it. Her chest hurt and her throat was raw from crying.
Damn you for making me fall in love with you, Roman Ford. Why the hell did I think you were any better than Stu had been, or dad? Trust—none of you have any idea of the concept, do you?
When the bath water got unbearably cold, she hauled herself out and wrapped herself in a huge, fluffy towel. The New Orleans night was cool for a change and she shivered, pulling on a sweater and her jeans.
As she brushed out her hair, she glanced at her phone. Every fiber of her being wanted to call Bay and to talk it out with her the way they had a hundred thousand times before. But, even with the few times they had spoken since the shooting, she still felt …
Lonely. There was no other word for it.
No, she got up and told herself. I will not be the girl who lets a guy ruin her life. Not again. She picked up her phone, but instead called Cal and told him she would be in to work in ten minutes. Not looking back at her very inviting couch, she grabbed her purse and went to work.
“New Orleans.”
Bay looked up as Tom came to sit by her. They were looking at a bunch of houses—as much as they love the houseboat, Bay’s therapist had advised them to move if Bay wanted to move past the horrors that happened there.
Bay couldn’t help but be relieved when Tom agreed. Having to see the place where she had lain, shot, bleeding, and dying, every day had been a strain she hadn’t been willing to admit.
They were sitting in a penthouse that Bay thought was way too big, but by Tom’s expression had just jumped to the top of the list. She had teased him about boys and their toys, but she had to admit, despite its size, it was a beautiful place, with 360-degree views of the city.
Now, though, she was caught up in what Tom was telling her.
“Roman’s in New Orleans and has been for a couple months. So, if what Kym told you was true, then that’s where we’ll find her.”
Rockstar Untamed: A Single Dad Virgin Romance Page 99
