by Rachel Lacey
“Ready?” Jenn slid closer to him on the seat.
As they stepped out of the car, she leaned against him, her hand in his, giving the cameras a dazzling smile. He had to hand it to her, she really had the rock-star-wife thing down pat. It was oddly arousing to see how confidently she handled the photographers—and the fans—as they were whisked inside the building.
“That was weird,” she said, a pensive look on her face.
“How so?” He kept his hand in hers as they were led down a narrow hallway lit in a faintly pinkish glow, directed by a security guard dressed all in black and carrying a small flashlight to illuminate their way.
“It’s the first time they’ve called my name.”
He grinned at her. “Did you like it or hate it?”
She shrugged. “Neither, really. It’s just weird, after having them look straight through me all these years while I’m with Kate.”
“I can’t imagine how anyone could look past you.” Because when he and Jenn were in the same room, he couldn’t see anyone but her.
The security guard led them up a flight of steps and down another hall. There they stood in the half-light, waiting for the house lights to drop so that they could enter the club without fanfare. They only had to wait a minute, having timed their arrival perfectly. The lights dropped, and the crowd screamed as the security guard pushed the door open and led them onto a private balcony overlooking the crowd below. As the only VIP guests tonight, they had the whole balcony to themselves.
Not a bad way to enjoy a show.
He leaned in, resting an arm over Jenn’s shoulders, but her expression was distant, her shoulders tense. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who needed to unwind tonight.
The Swinging Squirrels took the stage, guitars screaming and drums pounding, and the noise from the crowd built to a roar. Cole rocked to the beat. The Squirrels were fairly new on the scene, but their sophomore album had produced three chart-topping singles, and based on the energy radiating up from the crowd below, they’d soon be selling out stadiums instead of nightclubs. There was something magical about playing a small venue like this though; the energy, the vibe. It was something Cole had always loved and appreciated.
On the stage below, Cameron Schultz began to sing, his rich baritone filling the room. Cole and Jenn danced, whooped, and sang along to the tunes they recognized from the radio while their waitress kept them supplied with plenty of beer. He caught a few fingers pointing their way by eagle-eyed concert patrons and waved in response. The show was loud and energetic and fucking awesome. It made Cole wistful for those early years when he’d still been part of a band.
But the dynamic of Quentros had been all wrong. He and Dylan Fiverson, the lead guitarist and backup singer, had been in a constant battle for power. They’d disagreed on just about everything, constantly jockeying for the upper hand, and in the end, they’d destroyed the band. Dylan had gone on to start a new band in which he was the lead guitarist and vocalist. Cole had cut ties and gone solo.
He’d made the right decision. He was successful beyond his wildest dreams and satisfied both creatively and professionally. He craved control, and in this way, he’d found it. Still, it got lonely sometimes, and while it was inspiring to constantly work with new songwriters and musicians, sometimes he missed the old comfort and familiarity that came with being a part of a group.
He wasn’t meant to belong to a group long-term though, either personally or professionally. Jenn was right when she said they shouldn’t sleep together too soon. This thing between them, the rapport, the chemistry, all of it would sure as hell blow up in their faces as soon as they fell into bed together. He’d seen it happen too many times to expect anything different.
The Swinging Squirrels segued into one of their more romantic tunes, and he drew her into his arms to slow dance to the beat, well aware of the audience watching them from below. She felt so fucking good in his arms. He could get high off the smell of her hair, that uniquely feminine, floral scent that was just Jenn.
He kissed her neck, finding her tense, almost stiff, in his arms. What was that about? She’d been giving off weird vibes ever since they got here, which was completely unlike her. Sliding his hand in hers, he tugged her through the door into the darkened hallway beyond.
There he dipped his head to whisper in her ear. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Jenn shook her head in what she knew was an unconvincing attempt at normalcy. Damn him for being so perceptive. Why did he have to be so good at reading her when right now she just wanted him to be a typical clueless male?
“It’s something. Did I upset you somehow?” They were standing too close, all alone in this half-dark hall, illuminated by a tiny row of LED lights along the floor. The security guard stood at the other end, giving them privacy. Here, in the dark, away from the crowd and with Cole’s hands in hers, she finally felt the pressure in her chest ease.
She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“Do you want to leave?”
“No.” She reached up to touch his face. “I’m having a good time, really. I had something on my mind earlier, and it was distracting me from the show.”
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Sometimes I just get too caught up in my own head. Come on.” She led him back through the doorway into the concert hall. The noise of the band and the crowd wrapped around her, its energy pumping through her veins. Live music had always been her lifeblood. She attended concerts like it was going out of style and still couldn’t quite believe she got to be a part of this world as her day job.
So why was she starting to panic again? Her eyes scanned the room, noting the emergency exits. How long would it take everyone to get out? In her head, she heard the staccato pop of gunfire and the screams of terror from the crowd, so shrill and panic filled that they turned her blood to ice.
Dammit.
This hadn’t happened in months. She’d thought it was finally behind her. And then she’d glimpsed a man on the opposite balcony. For a moment, she thought she’d seen a gun in his hands. And suddenly, she was right back there, trapped inside the nightmare. But she wasn’t. She was here at the Lunar Lounge with Cole, and everything was fine.
What happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas. She could not let that night affect her ability to enjoy a live show or do her job. It was absolutely unacceptable. Jennifer MacDonald did not fall apart this easily, and nothing affected her cool, calm head in chaotic situations. Desperate to distract herself from the memories, she put her hands around Cole’s neck and kissed him.
They moved to the rhythm of the music as it swelled and pounded around them, bodies entwined as their tongues tangled. All her tension, her insecurities and fears, melted away in his arms as his kiss worked its magic on her. The energy they generated seemed to light her up until she felt like they must be glowing brighter than the stage lights.
“Never seem to get enough of this,” he murmured in her ear.
She slid her hands into his back pockets, their bodies bumping and grinding to the beat. She closed her eyes and soaked it in, the feel of his body against hers and the music thumping so loudly, she could feel it vibrating in her bones. This was what she craved, what she loved. And no madman with a gun was going to take it away from her.
They danced and kissed and fooled around until the band left the stage before the encore. As the stage lights went dark and the crowd began to stomp and scream for more, the door behind them opened.
The security guard stood there with his flashlight on, aimed at the open doorway. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Cole took her hand. The guard led them down a hallway toward the back of the venue, ending at the VIP lounge. In her years in the business, Jenn had been in a lot of VIP lounges. This one was pretty standard for an upscale club, with elaborate tapestries on the wall to camouflage the fact that there were no windows since they were basically in the basement. A table full of food stood next
to the bar along the far wall.
The room buzzed with activity as crew bustled in and out. Immediately, a crowd began to gather around Cole, and since she wasn’t his assistant (as he was so fond of reminding her), she took the opportunity to excuse herself to the restroom. When she made it back, the band was just arriving, flushed and sweaty and high off their performance.
Cole greeted the lead singer with a slap on the back and one of those one-armed man hugs. She watched, feeling again the shift in her dynamic. She was used to being in rooms like this, but she was usually rushing around with a mile-long to-do list to keep things running smoothly for Kate. Tonight, she was at a loss. And then Cole was motioning to her, calling her over.
He slung an arm over her shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I’d like to introduce you to my beautiful wife, Jennifer.”
It was past midnight when they got home. Cole was exhausted, wired, frustrated, and horny all at the same time. Somehow, it had only been that morning when he’d attended church with Jenn and her family. It had been a long-ass day. Jenn headed straight for her room, saying she needed to sleep since she was back at work tomorrow.
He headed for the studio, hoping the maelstrom inside him would vent itself into his music. And it did, at least for a little while. He wrote some rough lyrics for a song he called Beautiful Mistake. “So beautiful, can’t take my eyes off you. I want you, need you so badly. So beautiful, my beautiful mistake.”
He closed his eyes, picturing Jenn before him as he sang, her fiery hair loose over her shoulders, those green eyes shimmering with want and need the way they had tonight when he’d kissed her at the club. In his fantasy, she wore that flowy dress the color of the ocean that she’d had on the night they got married. His bride. His beautiful mistake.
By the time he finished the song, he was hard as stone inside his jeans, his voice low and husky, thick with his need for her. Two days of kissing her, of sharing a bed with her, with no privacy, no release, had left him a very frustrated man. He hung up his guitar, put away the rest of his gear, and headed upstairs. Jenn’s scent lingered in the kitchen, taunting him.
He pictured her down the hall, asleep in her bed. Instead of the tank top and knit pants she’d worn at her parents’ house, he imagined her in something sexier, something lacy and skimpy, and dammit, his dick was about to poke a hole through his jeans. His whole body ached with his need for her.
Turning his back on the kitchen, he climbed the stairs to the master bedroom. He headed straight for the bathroom and turned the shower on hot. After church, a flight, and a rock concert, he definitely needed a rinse. And a release.
As he unfastened his jeans, his cock jutted out impatiently. He’d had to take cold showers both mornings at Jenn’s parents’ house after waking next to her in bed. Such sweet torture. He shucked his clothes and stepped beneath the shower’s hot spray. God, it felt good. He squirted shampoo in his hands and worked it through his hair, then lathered up his body, washing away the grime from the airplane and the club.
His cock still stood at attention, refusing to be ignored. He rinsed his body and swiped his hand across the soap, then gripped himself firmly, feeling a rush of arousal so strong, it drew a gasp from his lips. He hadn’t been this hard, this desperate for release in…well, he wasn’t sure how long. His dry spell with women had put a damper on things. He still jacked off regularly, but after a while, it had started to feel more like a routine. The excitement was gone without a woman’s touch. There was no thrill, no urgency.
But since Jenn had moved in, he was hornier than a teenager. He gave himself one long, slow tug, visualizing the way she’d looked in bed that morning, all soft and rumpled from sleep. The apologetic smile on her face as she’d brushed against his morning wood. His cock surged, his balls full and aching. He braced one hand against the wall, the shower beating down on his back, his fist moving at a frenzied pace as he stroked himself closer to release.
He pictured her again in the dress she’d worn that night at the Tiki Bar, the way they’d fallen down in the sand together, as drunk as they were horny. The sound of her laugh, rich and throaty and sexy as hell. He imagined her hand on his cock, and his breath hitched. His balls drew up against his body. He remembered the way she whimpered as her hips rocked against his in the sand on Luca Cay, imagining how she might sound when she came, and bam. He broke.
Release pulsed through him in several scorching hot waves, leaving him limp and gasping against the shower wall. Fucking hell. If he came this hard just fantasizing about her, how good would it be if they ever got together for real?
9
“You’re still married,” Kate said with an amused smile. She leaned back on the couch, curling her feet underneath herself, looking tanned and rested after her babymoon. Her little white dogs, Ben and Jerry, hopped up and settled themselves against her legs.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Jenn reached for her iPad, eager to shift the conversation away from herself. “Everything’s confirmed for the rest of the week. You’ll start with Elliot Persimmon from Entertainment Magazine tomorrow at ten.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kate waved a hand in front of her face. “Before we start running through my schedule, I need you to catch me up to speed with you and Cole. What happened to the quicky annulment?”
She heaved a sigh, sliding her iPad onto the chair beside her. “Well, the news broke two days after we got home from the Bahamas, so at that point, our quiet annulment was no longer an option.”
“Okay. So are you giving this a real shot, or…?”
Jenn scrunched her nose. “It’s just for show. He convinced me to stay with him for six months for appearances, and then we’ll have an amicable divorce.”
“I see what’s in it for him,” Kate said, her expression pensive. “He’s getting some majorly positive press out of the deal. In fact, I would imagine his whole ‘King of Tiny Dix’ problem is a thing of the past.”
“It seems to be, yes.” Jenn nodded.
“But what’s in it for you?” Kate asked, pinning her with a hard look. “Because it’s not like you to agree to something that’s not in your best interest.”
“Well, my folks might be slightly less horrified when we get divorced after six months than if they’d known I drunk-married a stranger, but the main reason is that Cole and I reached an agreement.”
“Which is?” Kate pressed.
“Private?” she offered with a shrug.
“Oh please.” Kate reached for her glass of water on the coffee table. “You know every ugly, intimate detail of my life. Humor me.”
It was true. As Kate’s assistant, Jenn sometimes had uncomfortably intimate access to her boss’s private life. “He offered to help me out professionally.”
Kate’s eyes flashed. “And what can he do for you that I can’t?”
“Nothing. I just…never asked you.” She twisted her fingers as heat crept into her cheeks.
“Well, now I’m intrigued and a little bit miffed,” Kate said with a laugh. “What did Cole offer to do for you that was important enough for you to stay married to him but not important enough for you to ever mention it to me?”
“He’s going to help me start a new career, and I never told you because, I don’t know, I felt awkward asking you to give me a leg up because you’re my boss. And because it’s part of a plan that eventually involves me staying here in New York permanently and no longer being your assistant.”
Kate leaned back, giving her an assessing look. “I know that day is coming, Jenn. It’s no secret you want to get married and settle down, and I know you won’t want to schlep around the world with me once that happens.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly it,” she said, relieved to finally have it out in the open.
“So you still haven’t told me what your new career is going to be.”
She drew in a big breath and blew it out. “I want to be a songwriter.”
Kate went very still, her blue eyes locked o
n Jenn’s. “This feels like a conversation we should have had a long time ago.”
Jenn’s heart was racing, her cheeks flaming hot. “It does now, but I never knew when or how to bring it up. It’s always been my eventual goal. It’s even why I joined the business as your assistant to learn the ropes.”
“Holy shit.” Kate was staring at her like she’d just sprouted horns.
“I didn’t want to ask for favors, and I was comfortable—happy—being your assistant, so I’ve been putting off the songwriting. But, now I’m starting to think about the next chapter in my life, putting down roots and starting a family, which means it’s time to think about a career that lets me stay in one place most of the time.”
“And how did Cole find out about this before I did?”
“Because I got stupid-drunk in the Bahamas and spilled my guts.”
One corner of Kate’s mouth lifted in a smile. “Before or after you married him?”
“Before. Anyway, he offered to help jump-start my career: work with me, mentor me, introduce me to the right people.”
“All things I would happily do for you,” Kate said sharply, “and without forcing you into a marriage of convenience.”
“Well, to be fair, he offered to help me even if I divorced him.” She blew out a breath, raising her head to meet Kate’s eyes. “I know you would help me, and I really appreciate it, but I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
“It’s not, and I still want to work with you, assuming you’re not shit at writing songs.” Kate cracked a smile. “And you know I’ll tell you if you’re shit, right?”
Jenn nodded, swallowing hard. “Right. I mean, I’ve told you a few of your songs were shit too…” She managed a weak smile of her own.
Kate’s eyes twinkled. “You have. Someone has to, and the further up the chain you go, the harder it is to find people who’ll let you down easy. So tell me more about your songwriting. Do you sing too?”
