“Come to my cabin with me. It’s an hour away on the other side of Echo Lake.”
“I’m supposed to be working.”
“Callie and Jake are staying there the first night of the honeymoon. You can get photos and call it work.”
“I don’t—”
He cut her off with another kiss, this one deeper, hotter. And to add to the persuasion, he ran a hand up the inside of her thigh, quickly skimming the silky skin and going straight for the sweet stuff. He edged past the featherweight panties and found her wet for him, her heat scorching his fingers as they caressed her folds.
“I want to take you to my house and feed you. Then I want to fuck you in my hot tub and then in my bed. I want to wake up next to you and make love to you again. I want your presence, your scent, your mark on a place I share with no one else in in the world.” He leaned down again and captured her moan in a savage kiss, a possessor’s kiss. “And then I want to talk about us and what we’re going to do about it. Are you on board with that?”
Chapter Thirteen
Lita loved riding a motorcycle.
Her father had one when she was little, and she loved the feeling of flying over the asphalt, the white noise effect of the wind whipping past her. It was a real rush, at least it had been until she realized that her father only owned the bike and let her ride to piss her mother off. She’d declined every subsequent invitation, refusing to participate in their stupid games.
But all those memories disappeared like smoke with every mile as she sat pressed against Rocky’s hard muscled back. His jacket smelled like the combination of old leather, his darkly spiced cologne, and the underlying scent of Rocky. She burrowed in, tightening her arms around him as his chest rumbled with laughter born of pure happiness.
They were happy. Not the kind of thrill she got from a new pair of the perfect shoes, but the kind of bone-deep, lit up from within, grinning like idiots and not caring kind of bliss. The entire situation took her straight back to Mexico and their three days together in that tiny house right on the beach. They hadn’t needed names or occupations or backgrounds—they’d had each other, and it had been enough.
She wasn’t so naive that she thought that this would be the same. That time had been a bubble, and now they would be surrounded by all the sharp edges of the real world. But Rocky wanted to talk about being an “us,” and she’d accept a few knocks and bumps to make that a reality.
Slow down, girl. He didn’t promise rings and mortgages.
Today had been so emotional for the both of them. She needed to take a breath and separate the sensation created by the past couple of days, the bonding over the situation with his father and the residue left over from the first time they’d parted, from what was really going on. Lita was usually levelheaded when it came to men, but Rocky confused her. He’d stuck in her mind and heart, and that scared her. She didn’t trust her own emotional compass, and their intense attraction wasn’t the best indicator of relationship success. She’d been here before with lovers and then watched it burn to ashes. She’d never felt with them what she experienced with Rocky.
And that scared her to death.
Rocky slowed down his Harley and turned off the main road, taking them down a paved side road that led deeper into the Montana forest, and headed back toward Echo Lake. Lita watched as the scenery changed, the signs of man and civilization popping up less frequently as they delved deeper into the trees. But the surroundings weren’t the only thing that was changing. Rocky was relaxing under her grip; she could feel the tension that always kept his body taut and alert melting away as they got closer to their destination. She couldn’t wait to see where he was taking her. All he would tell her was that he had a cabin. Period. No hints. No teasers. Bastard.
The paved road gave way to one of gravel covered, packed earth, and Rocky slowed down even more as he navigated the ruts and dips caused by mother nature and very little human maintenance. The trees grew thicker, creating a canopy over the road and blocking the bright sunshine. The temperature was cooler, and the smells of the woods were more pronounced: pine needles, damp earth, and the scent of summer heat. So different from L.A.
The tree line opened up, and suddenly, Echo Lake was in front of them, smooth as glass and reflecting the trees and the mountain ridge on its surface. But more beautiful than the view was the little cabin that sat perched on the edge of the water.
Made of rough hewn pale logs, cream and dark brown stone, it was covered in large windows on every side that were lit from within with a golden glow in the coming twilight. A back/side entrance greeted them as they pulled into the driveway, and the slated walkway, sheltered from the elements, led to a set of huge wooden double doors.
To the right, what looked like the large great room connected to a huge deck that actually sat out over the water, as if the house rose out of the lake. She couldn’t wait to get a look at it from the inside. This wasn’t what she expected. Her thoughts had run to more of a “man-cave meets Grizzly Adams” thing happening, not this beautiful, serene place.
Rocky stopped the bike and killed the engine and sat there, staring at his house while Lita took the opportunity to watch him. He caressed every inch of the house with his eyes; she could think of no better way to describe it. His hands flexed and twitched as if he yearned for physical contact with the place, to walk inside and be swallowed whole. He’d said this was his favorite place in the world, and it clearly was.
He turned to look at her, his expression straightforward but tinged with something that was too fleeting for her to catch and analyze. He lifted up his hands and removed his helmet while she did the same, and then waited for him to say whatever was clearly on his mind.
“So, what do you think?”
She knew what it was then, the elusive emotion that had skated across his face just moments earlier: vulnerability. He was worried she wouldn’t love this place as much as he did, and it mattered a great deal to him. Luckily, it was an easy question to answer.
“I love it. It’s absolutely gorgeous.” She turned away to soak in the details of the structure. For a woman whose taste veered more toward sleek and modern, this was compelling in its simple approach to blending in with nature and standing on its own as an example of perfect design. “Can I see inside?”
He stared at her for two beats and then grinned, a hint of a flush of pride on his cheeks. “You bet. I’ll grab our bags.”
She walked ahead of him under the cooler covered porch/walkway, running her fingers over the stones that supported the roof, enjoying their texture and warmth stored up from the day. Flowers and flowering shrubs were planted on either side of the porch and nothing looked out of place. She knew the tour, rehearsal, and recording schedule for The Rift. There was no way Rocky was dropping in on the weekend to hit the local Lowe’s and plant flowers.
“Who looks after the place when you’re not here?”
“There’s a couple about five miles away that keep an eye on things. Josiah tends the land and the exterior of the cabin while Suzanne keeps the place clean and stocks the kitchen when I’m going to be here for a few days.” He fished in his jacket pocket and withdrew a key ring—a rabbit’s foot key ring—and unlocked the door. “I was here last month helping Josiah with a couple of projects on the property.”
He waved her past him, and she entered the cabin, her eyes racing from one spot to the next, soaking it all in. The cabin wasn’t huge, but it was large enough to have a party comfortably. The lake was visible from every window, the coming sunset more spectacular than any artwork he could have purchased.
Key lights were turned on, and they made the golden tone of the logs and the rough stone fireplace glow. The room held a small kitchen with barstools and a table with red leather chairs pulled up around a burnished metal top. There were two seating areas—one facing the lake view and the other surrounding the fireplace.
“There are two master suites in this cabin.” Rocky pointed to two doors opposite
of the entryway and motioned for her to follow into the one that had the water view. It was large with a larger bed constructed of tree trunks facing the windows. “This is mine.”
“Oh my God. I can’t imagine a more beautiful view to wake up to in the morning,” she said.
“I can,” Rocky replied as he pulled her to him and leaned down to kiss her. Lita went willingly into his arms and opened her mouth at his gentle pressure. Damn. She could get very used to this version of Rocky—a big guy who could get all romantic, sweet, and tender pushed all the right buttons for her. Yeah, she loved it when he couldn’t control the fire between them and took charge, but that was like so many lovers she’d had. The passion burned like a wildfire, but it couldn’t sustain itself for long—not for forever.
Was it too soon to wonder if Rocky was the forever type? Would they be one of the rare couples to beat the abysmal odds and not end up at each other’s throats over the things they’d once loved in the other? Or would they be one of the couples who stayed together but slept around, so beyond caring that infidelity didn’t upset them?
He pulled back his lips from their kiss, desire etched in every angle of his jaw, the sharp curve of his cheekbone, the thick sweep of his dark lashes. Yeah, she could get used to this Rocky.
Lita leaned forward, ready to persuade him to take this to the bed no more than three feet away, when her stomach growled. Not a lady-like grumble, but a hungry-bear-looking-for-a-camper noise that stopped both of them in mid-pucker.
He laughed and pushed her gently, putting enough distance between them to frustrate her. “I think I promised to feed you.”
“You also promised sex.”
“And to talk about us.”
That stopped her. A thrill—or was that fear?—made her shiver. This was what she wanted, but now that the time had come to close her eyes and jump, she was terrified. What if they fucked this up again?
“And that face is why we need full stomachs to have this conversation,” Rocky said, looping his arm around her shoulders and steering her toward the living area. “You take your pictures while I put the steaks on the grill.”
“Are you sure you want me to take photographs?” she asked as he headed to the kitchen area and opened the fridge. Lita fished in her bag for the digital camera, pulled it out, removed it from its case and checked the battery.
“Sure. Just don’t take any pictures of my pizza-delivery-guy-fantasy porn collection. I’m not sure America is ready for that.”
“Wait. What?” She paused, her head whipping up just in time to see him carrying a platter of steaks toward the French doors leading to the deck. “Are you serious?”
“I told you it was the quiet ones you have to worry about.” Rocky turned his back to push through the door and gave her a wink before moving on.
Chapter Fourteen
Lita looked really good in his house.
Rocky watched her from his station by the built-in barbecue on the deck. Normally when he was here, his eyes were glued to the view of the lake, the mountains, and woods. He would soak in the peace and happiness that this place gave him and store it away for when he returned to the bustle of L.A. and the road.
Not today. Today, he was riveted to the vision of Lita in his home, in his space, knowing he would relive these moments later.
He watched as she moved from room to room, touching the furnishings and examining every photograph with intense focus. What she wasn’t doing was taking any pictures. That surprised him, along with the fear that crept into her eyes whenever he mentioned them and any kind of future. They needed to talk, and how crazy was it that Ms. Talk-To-Anyone-Anywhere turned green at the suggestion, and he wanted to lay it all out there for the first time in forever? It must be opposite day.
Lita looked up, and he caught her eye, motioning for her to join him. She nodded and made her way over to the door, stepping out onto the deck and into the waning sunlight. It hit her just right, and suddenly, her hair and skin were glowing with liquid gold. She was stunning.
She was like the sweetest melody and the most poignant lyric all wrapped in a hook that just wouldn’t let you go.
“What’s with the look?” she asked.
“I’m writing a song,” he replied. “In my head.”
She nodded toward the steaks. “You need me to take over?”
That was a tempting offer. In truth, he itched to grab the beat-up guitar he had stashed in the living room and get down the melody pulsing in his veins. A song about her. About this night.
Fuck. How many songs had Lita inspired? Too many to count.
“It will keep.”
“This is amazing,” she said as she walked to the edge and peered over into the placid lake. “It feels like the cabin is sitting in the middle of the water.”
“The architect and I planned it that way. It’s my favorite part of the cabin. I sit out here all the time—night, day, clear, or stormy.” He checked the steaks and determined they were almost damn perfect. Rocky placed them on the plates and spooned out the homemade coleslaw and macaroni and cheese Suzanne had left for them.
He placed the plates opposite each other at the table and walked around to Lita’s chair and pulled it out for her. She smiled, delight flashing in her eyes at his gesture, and he wondered what kind of douchebags she dated in L.A. Apparently, the type of douchebag who didn’t even pull out a chair for a woman. He sat, poured the wine, and they sat in comfortable silence as they ate, exchanging glances heavy with anticipation.
His excitement at having her here, and the tiny thread of nervousness of her reaction to where he wanted this thing to go, impacted his appetite, and he found himself moving more of his favorite meal around the plate than eating it. Rocky glanced up and saw that Lita was in the same state. Hell, they were a mess. This situation called for the lubrication of alcohol—not enough to get them drunk but enough to take the edge off.
“Did you get any good shots of the house?” he asked, refilling her wine glass when she nodded.
“I didn’t take any photos.”
“Why not?” The photos would have been the something extra to impress her boss, especially when she was trying to get her own show.
“I just couldn’t.” Lita shook her head, looking up at the sky briefly before meeting his gaze again. Everything about her demeanor said she couldn’t believe what she was doing. “This is your home. There are pictures of your mom everywhere. Your beat-up favorite Elmore Leonard books are sitting on the table next to your bed. You don’t even have a drum kit that I can find. This place isn’t about Rocky Cardano, member of The Rift. This place is about the Cesar Lorenzo Cardano you’ve worked so damn hard to protect.”
He raised an eyebrow at the use of his given name. She picked up the glass and raised it to her lips, but stopping just before she took a sip. Her eyes darkened with the ferocity echoed in her words. “Nobody knows about this place, and I don’t want to be part of exposing it to the world. Not this place.”
He sat back in his chair, staring at her as the words and what they meant soaked into his brain, warming him up as the sun dipped low and allowed a chill to touch the air. She got it. She got him. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, so he let it fly, reaching across the table to link their fingers.
“That’s the second time you’ve protected me today. Thank you, Rosalita.” He squeezed her hand when her eyes widened, surprised that he knew her first name. “I’m not an idiot. I know what today cost you.”
She drew back her hand and waved him off, but he stopped her, lifting her fingers to his mouth and brushing his lips across her knuckles. Turning it over to press a kiss to the center of her palm, keeping his gaze locked on hers, watching the emotion in them morph from one thing to another until it settled on one that made his chest hurt, his body to tighten.
“Today was nothing.” Lita turned her hand to cup his cheek, and he leaned into her caress.
“Liar.”
“Only of omission. Sleig
ht of hand.” She pulled back, leaning back in her chair with a shrug of her shoulders. “It’s only wrong if I get caught.”
He laughed. “Okay, badass.”
“It was worth it.”
He almost missed what she said it was so low and soft, but he was so tuned into her that he would have heard it if she’d whispered it in the middle of a Rift concert. Those four words embodied everything he knew about her, about them, in his gut. In his heart. He knew.
“Worth losing a shot at your own show? The co-anchor position at Entertainment Nightly?”
Her eyebrows shot up with her shock. “How did you—?”
“I do my homework. It wasn’t hard to find the articles that put you on the short list.”
“It was worth it,” she said. “Even with the co-anchor spot on the line. Chances are that no one will ever find out about my involvement with the press release, and if they do, I’ll work it out. Even so, it was worth it.”
“That’s why I brought you here.” He was aching to pull her to him, but he had stuff to say and if he touched her, it would be hours before he had a coherent thought. “That’s why I want to talk about us.”
She eyed him across the table, the breeze off the lake lifting her curls across her face as her entire body went still. Everything about Lita said she was poised for flight, and he had no problem with it, as long as she ended up in his arms.
“It was the right thing to do,” she said.
“But not for you. Not for your career. Not for a woman who wants her own show.” He kept his gaze on her, steady and demanding. “It wasn’t the right thing for you. You did this for me.”
She shrugged, moving her gaze from his own and to a point over his shoulder. Rocky let her have that distance.
“I want to try. I want to have an us,” he said, getting straight to the point. He didn’t know how to be cool or nonchalant. “I should probably be romantic or smooth, but I’m not that guy. When I’m in, I’m in.” Her eyes snapped to his, and he used the connection that surged between them to punctuate his words. “And I’m all into you.”
Playing With the Drummer Page 11
