Reunited Lovers (Friendship Chronicles Book 2)

by Shelley Munro

  “We can offer to pay for rehearsal space.”

  “Yeah, that might work. I’ll run the idea past her tomorrow.” He considered Julia’s sexy stage routine and smiled. “I have an idea for another song. Two, actually.”

  “Spill. Wait. It’s not a ballad is it?”

  “One of each,” Ryan said, excitement pounding through him. This was a way to help Julia, something concrete to assist her with the club—a special theme song by French Letters. There must be a way to swing something so the band wasn’t outed, because he wanted to help.

  Caleb played with the lights, testing the different spotlights and the color filters. Ryan watched with a critical eye.

  “She won’t need to do much with the lighting. The wiring and everything looks good,” Caleb said, after peering into the switchbox and prodding a few things.

  “The curtain and some of the props they have back here need renewing. They’re tacky and old.” Ryan tapped a large metal birdcage, big enough for a person, and a cloud of dust rose. He backed away before he sneezed.

  “You want to report to Julia?” Caleb asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Ryan appreciated Caleb giving him space and the opportunity of a few private words with her. He practiced what he’d say in his mind while he searched the club for her. He ran her to ground in the stock room where she was doing an inventory of the booze with one of her friends. “Hey.”

  “Damn, that’s bad timing,” the friend said. “I was about to grill her about you.”

  “Why don’t you ask me?” he asked.

  “Ryan.” Julia scowled at him, an expression he’d noticed her wearing a lot tonight.

  He tut-tutted. “Didn’t your mother warn you the changing wind can fix a frown in place? Your smile is much sexier.”

  The friend laughed, despite Julia’s deepening glower.

  “I’m Ryan,” he said, sticking out his hand. He flicked a glance in Julia’s direction. “Julia’s husband.”

  “Maggie,” she said. “Connor’s wife.”

  “The big dude who can’t keep his eyes off you?”

  “That would be the one,” she said with a fond grin.

  “Julia, can we talk?”

  “I’ll leave you alone,” Maggie said, brushing past Julia.

  “No,” Julia blurted, her hand snapping out to grip her friend’s arm.

  “Julia,” Maggie protested.

  “Why don’t I tell you about the sound and lighting system first,” Ryan said, watching his wife glance at the door with longing. Now dressed, she appeared cool, armor in place. Damn, he’d hurt her. Seeing Julia had brought back forgotten memories and filled some gaps. After they’d married, she’d told him of some of her past with boyfriends, joked about her bad luck until she met him. Now she’d consigned him to the top of the male scrapheap and donned her bitchy manner to conceal her pain. To set her at ease, he plunged into the conclusions he and Caleb had come to regarding the current setup.

  “So we can get by with cosmetic fixes on the curtains and props?” she asked.

  “That’s good news,” Maggie said. “Six bottles of vodka.”

  “Six? Damn, the vodka is short too. Someone has been helping themselves to the booze.” Julia jotted down the number against the computer-generated stock list.

  “Ah, heck. Look at the time,” Maggie said. “We need to hit the other club before the line gets too long. I’ll tell the others.” She sped off, leaving Ryan clear to speak in private with Julia.

  “I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say,” Julia said.

  “Please, hear me out. The mugging story is true. While we were in Munich, I was attacked. Three guys were hassling a woman and I stopped to help. After I escorted her home, the guys jumped me, beat me up pretty bad.” He paused, trying to dig the rusty facts from his swirling head. “I was left with short-term memory loss. It’s taken a while to remember things.”

  Her stiff manner dispersed a fraction. “Are you okay now?”

  “Some of my memories are still fuzzy. I didn’t remember you straight away.”

  “That’s good for my ego,” Julia said drily.

  “Do you think this has been fun for me? I remembered our songs. We had to cancel one concert, but until I returned home and checked my mail, I only recalled your first name. The divorce papers were a rude awakening.”

  She cocked her head to the side, her expression unreadable. “You didn’t tell Caleb about your marriage?”

  “You asked me not to.” Ryan held her gaze, wanting to reach out and touch her in the worst way. “Remember your long lecture about wanting to maintain your privacy and avoid nosy questions from reporters and ladies’ magazines? I still say you wouldn’t get much of that because we’re anonymous offstage.” His gaze traced the high cheekbones, her straight nose and the curve of her full lips. A zip of heat struck his groin, and a rush of memories bombarded him—crystal clear and perfect. Of making love to her, her mouth on him. Those lips of hers were something else. “You didn’t tell your friends either.”

  “No.” Something dark swirled in her eyes for a second. Maybe regret?

  “I don’t want a divorce, Julia. I want this marriage. I want you.”

  She swallowed, focusing on the paper clutched in her hands. “I can’t do a long-distance marriage. I thought it would be okay, but…” She trailed off, still not looking at him.

  “We’re home for a few months,” he said. “Seymour wants us to write new material and record another album. Couldn’t we start again? Face our problems together without secrets this time?”

  “I can’t.” Pain carried in the hoarse whisper, and she seemed to zone out for an instant. Then she glanced at him, the sheen of emotion welling in her eyes. “I don’t think I’m good with relationships.”

  He’d done this to her. The hurt radiating from her weakened his knees. Before he’d realized it, he had gathered her in his arms. When she tipped back her head, a tear escaped, and he brushed it away with his thumb. She surrendered, the paper and pen dropping to the floor. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed her face to his shirt, a tremble rippling through her slender body.

  Ryan dragged in a deep breath, his anxiety lessening now that he held her. This was home. Now all he had to do was convince her.

  “Julia.” He breathed her in, the floral and herbal notes of her perfume, familiar and comforting even though he struggled to recall the name of the scent.

  She lifted her head, and he was totally lost. He claimed her mouth softly, hesitating in case she rejected him. Relief struck him hard when her hands tightened on his shirt, but he kept the kiss casual, licking her lips and relearning her taste.

  Sweet. Beautiful.

  His.

  He shivered at the surge of heat racing to his groin and desperately attempted to quell the blast of sexual need. Slow and easy. Gradually, he deepened the kiss, drinking in her sweetness, allowing his body to tell her everything—how much he’d missed her, hungered for her even when he hadn’t remembered her name.

  He’d known his mystery woman was important, instinctively realized he had to keep the memory to himself until he’d worked everything through. If only he’d come home after the accident. But he’d had commitments and he’d honored them.

  “Julia,” he whispered. “I love you.”

  She thrust away from him without warning, leaving him bereft. “You forget. I saw the photos of you with other women.”

  “Show them to me,” he said, not willing to back down or walk away from this important fight. “Are you sure they weren’t digitally altered? Neil and Caleb have both vouched for me. I haven’t slept with another woman since I left New Zealand.”

  “That you recollect.” Her expression held skepticism.

  “I remember cold showers. Many cold showers.” The memory went some way to cooling his ardor, for which he was thankful. The last thing he needed was for her to think he only wanted her for sex. “I spent a lot of my free time writi
ng new songs,” he said. “I can show you the songs. Caleb and I have worked on the arrangements. Please give me a chance. Let me prove myself.” Words almost tumbled over each other as he sought a way through her anger, her doubt. “Please.”

  “I’m going to be busy with the club,” she said.

  “Let me help. Caleb and I were talking earlier. The acoustics are excellent, and it would make a suitable place for us to rehearse our new material. Somewhere off the radar. We’d pay you for use of the space.”

  He had no idea what he’d do if she refused. Nah, that was a lie. Even if he had to camp outside with a guitar and play songs on the street, he’d spend his hours with her, attempting to change her mind.

  “All right,” she said after a long pause, her tone grudging. “But you’re not moving in with me.”

  His held breath released with a hiss. Okay. He could work with that. “Will you let me take you to dinner?”

  “Maybe.”

  “All right.” A maybe was as good as a yes. “And the band can rehearse here?”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What about my friends and the staff? What are you going to tell them? I presume you want to keep your identities quiet?”

  He didn’t care. He’d make this work. “Caleb has already told them we work as roadies. We’ll keep to the story and tell them we’re contemplating forming a band with some friends. Even if we play French Letters music, they’ll think we’re doing covers of popular music. Most people see what they want. Without our stage makeup, no one recognizes us.”

  Julia nodded, losing some of her starchiness. “If anyone asks I’ll tell them you’re a band looking for a break.”

  “Julia, are you ready?” Maggie shouted.

  “Are you and Caleb coming to the club with us?” Julia asked, gliding around him in a wide circle. “We’re checking out the opposition.”

  “Thanks.” Satisfaction filled his chest, and despite her strictures about taking things slowly, he was quietly pleased. She reminded him of the dog his family had adopted from the Humane Society when he was a kid. Despite her feisty attitude, she acted as if he might kick her at the first opportunity. Troublesome wench. That dog had become his best buddy, and he intended to use the same calm persistence with his wife.

  The hour was still early—in club terms—yet already a line had formed outside. The seven of them joined the end of the queue, keeping the conversation away from The Last Frontier. A burly bouncer, dressed in a black suit, stood at the head of the line, his massive arms crossed over his chest. His bring-it-on size shouted a warning for everyone to behave, but none of the waiting people were interested in issuing a challenge.

  “Have you been here before?” Julia asked the couple standing in front of them. She wanted to get a feel for the clientele and learn what attracted them to this new club. Anything to get her mind off Ryan. God, she’d let him kiss her, which ranked right up there with stupid. Sly, tricky man. His gentleness had cut her mental arguments off at the knees and fogged her stupid brain.

  “Good music. Great atmosphere,” a woman said. “There are both male and female performers so the place doesn’t have a sleazy club vibe. It’s comfortable here with my girlfriends.”

  “That’s what I heard.” Julia surveyed the woman and those in front of them. The dress-code seemed on the casual side for the men, but most of the women were dolled up in skimpy dresses or clinging skirts and flimsy tops. She was glad they’d all taken the chance to smarten up.

  “I haven’t been here before,” Ryan said. “Is the music live or do they have a DJ?”

  “DJ,” the woman said. “He’s good.”

  Music swirled out when the door opened. Julia didn’t recognize the song, but it had a strong beat, something people could dance to if they had the inclination. The bouncer let several people inside, including the woman she’d questioned.

  “That’s all,” the bouncer said, stopping Julia.

  “Isn’t it unusual to restrict numbers this early in the night?” she asked.

  “Not my fault,” the bouncer said in a surprisingly high voice, immediately on the defensive.

  “Of course it isn’t,” she said soothingly, leaning toward him to highlight her breasts. “What are the owners like? I might apply for a job.”

  “Dancer?”

  “Yes,” Julia said, blinking her eyelashes in his direction. “I wanted to check out the place first. I’ve been burned before.”

  Maggie shifted a fraction beside her. Julia caught a masculine growl of disapproval, and she was sure Connor wasn’t the culprit.

  “I don’t think they’re hiring at present,” the bouncer said, noticeably thawing. “You should check at the bar.”

  “Thanks. I will.”

  A group of six men walked out the door, their dark suits indicating they’d hit the place after a day of work. Interesting. Most clubs didn’t attract this clientele. What were they doing that was so different?

  “How many are in your group?” the bouncer asked.

  “Seven,” Julia said.

  “Close enough. You can go in now. Good luck with the job.”

  “Thanks.” Julia flashed a smile and sashayed into the club, putting an extra wiggle in her hips. It was the least she could do in exchange for the information.

  “Hey,” Ryan’s arm curved around her waist. “I hope your sexy flounce is for me.”

  Her steps became jerky, and he chuckled. She swallowed, knocked off her usual even stride. His arm felt natural around her, damn it. She’d softened naturally, leaning into his warmth. And that was stupid, but right now she was so confused and out of kilter she had difficulty thinking straight.

  “Relax.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she said. “You don’t have four curious friends trying to grill you for answers. Or a husband who decides he can walk right back into my life when it suits him.”

  Ryan’s arm tightened as he guided her into the intimacy of the dimly lit club. “This isn’t easy for me either.”

  The tense note in his voice had her searching his face. All this time she’d believed him the bad guy, but what if he spoke the truth? She should own some of the problems with their marriage. She’d seen online pictures almost as soon as the band arrived in Europe, and a part of her had died when they kept appearing. Then the baby… The guilt had overwhelmed her, withering her emotions, plunging her into darkness.

  “Meet me for breakfast,” she said.

  “Where? When?”

  “I thought I’d grab something at the cafe down the road from the club. They always used to do a decent breakfast. I want to get an early start.”

  “Good idea,” Maggie said, overhearing them.

  “Julia and I are having a private breakfast,” Ryan said.

  Maggie’s lips twitched. “You can share a table together.”

  Julia got it, and a bloom of emotion warmed her through. In their unsubtle way her friends were telling Ryan they had her back. “Fine,” she said, squeezing Ryan’s hand to still his protest. “Maggie is right. I have a lot to do, and I can’t afford distractions.”

  “Fine.” He threw her reply back at her. “We’ll share a table at breakfast, but I get a goodnight kiss.”

  “That sounds fair,” Maggie said, puckering up in Ryan’s direction.

  “Only if you want a spanking,” Connor said sternly.

  “Yes, please.” Maggie smirked at her husband, one eye closing in a sexy wink.

  Susan clapped her hands over her ears. “La, la, la, la.”

  Julia laughed at Ryan’s confusion. “I’ll explain later.”

  “There’s a booth,” Caleb said. “We should be able to squeeze in there.”

  “Quick,” Christina said. “Let’s grab it before the people behind us get the same idea.” She took off, gliding between the chairs and tables with real speed.

  Ryan’s hand slipped from around Julia’s waist, and she registered the loss straight away. Damn it. She couldn’t act this way. She wasn
’t a pushover, yet with Ryan... Focus, girl. This is a business jaunt.

  “I don’t understand why they’re restricting admission when there are loads of empty tables,” Susan said.

  “They’re playing head games,” Caleb said. “If prospective customers see a line outside a club, they think exclusivity. The owners are playing the snob factor and it’s working for them.”

  They crowded into the booth. Julia found herself squeezed against Ryan.

  “Relax,” he whispered, slipping his arm around her shoulders. “I only bite in private.”

  It was privacy that worried her. He’d burst into her life again today, and already she was toast. Well done, burned to a crisp, toast, her emotions and anger warring with her need to run her hands over his shoulder and tattoo to make sure he was real.

  Susan pulled out a notebook and pen. “Observations? Points to remember and discuss later?”

  “The staff wears a uniform,” Christina said. “It’s a little blatant for my taste. Uniforms are a clever idea, but they need to aim for sexy and stylish rather than tarty.”

  “Music is good,” Caleb contributed. “Lighting is okay, but not very original.”

  “That might change once an exotic dancer comes on stage,” Maggie said.

  “Service is slow,” Connor said. “I’ll go to the bar. What does everyone want to drink?”

  “Wine,” Julia said.

  “Let’s get a bottle of Sav Blanc,” Maggie suggested.

  The music changed and a dramatic drum roll burst through the speakers. A spotlight highlighted a short, slim man dressed in an elegant navy suit. “Let me present, fresh from the Las Vegas club circuit, Garnet!”

  The spot light faded, blacking out the man’s presence. The music changed to subtle and flirty. Tension gripped Julia, herds of butterflies dive-bombing her stomach, trying to work their way out. What if she couldn’t do this? What if she was wasting her efforts on an old dame who was way past her prime?

  A red spotlight appeared center stage, highlighting a woman dressed in a dazzling black gown. The woman started to sing, dancing and moving in an enticing manner. A cock of her hips. A pout of plump red lips. She was good with an excellent voice, but Julia thought she could hold her own in a strip off. The singing, not so much, but in the dancing and stripping Julia decided she had an edge.