by Ren Benton
“I need you. I want you. But this recovery is going to be so boring.”
Recovery always was. “I’ll smuggle you out in a suitcase and take you with me. I’m allowed a carry-on.”
“My leg isn’t flexible enough for that yet.” She scooted closer and wrapped her unbandaged leg around his. “I have to be here. You have to be there. We’ll be together soon, I promise.”
A promise would have to be good enough. “Enjoy the vacation from me while it lasts. Next time I get you in my clutches, you’re going to be wearing me like a latex catsuit from that moment on.”
“Kinky.”
“Wouldn’t want you to get bored with my unadventurous sexual repertoire.”
A knock on the door was immediately followed by the entrance of Maisie. “Sorry, kids, but time’s short. Come on, flyboy. Your sky chariot awaits.”
His stomach remembered the pending horror and responded accordingly. “She never liked me.”
Gin whispered, “You didn’t smile at her enough.”
He bared his teeth at Maisie.
Her cold, cold heart didn’t warm. “If I’m not back in a couple of hours, it’s because I had to hold the big baby’s hand all the way to Philly.”
Gin frowned. “Mais.”
“He’s fine. We’ve been talking strategy for days. We even conferenced his shrink. Think of me like the whip on his ass taking his mind off the nipple clamps that are the plane.”
Gin squeezed her eyes shut. “Must I?”
“Don’t worry about him. The man got between you and a gun. I’ll breastfeed him all the way home if it makes him feel better.”
Lex quirked a brow. “How do I get that level of service?”
“Get your skinny butt to the car. You know who has a properly grabbable ass? Your old buddy Carlos.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t speak that name in my presence.”
“On the way to the airport, we’ll listen to your third album and you can try to deny all that pain and anger is because Carlos left you for another band after you gave him the best six years of your life. You have about forty minutes to come up with an alternative explanation for lines like You’ll never make it without me. Which song is that in, ‘Butthurt Manbaby’?”
He appreciated the abrasion on his nerves to distract him from imminent death, but there were limits. “I’m never smiling at you again.”
“Good. It’s unnatural. Kiss the girl and move it.”
He’d gladly comply with the first half of the command. “Are you going to watch?”
“I left the most beautiful baby in the world with my mother, so this is as close to love as I’m going to get for the foreseeable future. Damn right I’m watching. Make it good.”
Gin tipped her face up and met his lips. The kiss might have been mistaken for chaste, except for the way it lingered and the gut-punch intimacy of green eyes gazing into his for the duration.
An exasperated groan came from the voyeur. “You do realize he’s just using this lip-lock as an excuse not to get on the plane.”
Lex sighed at the intrusion. “Not just.”
Gin pressed sweet little kisses along his jaw toward his ear, where she whispered, “I love you, music man. Go away so I can listen to our song.”
17
The opening show went pretty well, considering Lex was nine days into missing Gin and feeling sorry for himself. He hadn’t been joking about the wall of texts, battery-draining phone calls, and Byronic emails, but that cold contact didn’t satisfy his craving for her. He’d cajoled her into sending more nudes — of her ankles and knees and ears and neck. In the event he misplaced his new phone, he didn’t want her more tender parts making the rounds.
He knew what the back of her knee felt like. That was provocative enough for him.
As nice as her parts were to look at, he missed the rest of her. Her warmth. Her scent. Her gravity. She said she was sending him something that smelled like her to cuddle, but it hadn’t arrived as of show time, and they were pulling out for the next town as soon as the trucks were loaded. The package would have to catch up with him.
He would have to pretend to be patient.
He stepped off the stage after the encore and handed his guitar to a tech.
His stage manager said, “I’ll give you fifteen minutes until the meet-and-greet.”
He stripped his earpiece and dropped it in another waiting hand. “Generous of you.”
She arched a warning brow. “Would you prefer ten?”
“No, ma’am. Phone?”
Some kind soul slid it into his palm.
The text message from Gin he’d been hoping to see beckoned.
Guess who got the best seat in the house. Accompanied by a picture of... him, from behind.
Lex glanced at the stage he’d just left. The view was almost identical to that in the photo.
The ache in his chest turned sweet.
Behind him, a foggy voice mocked, “Oh, Gin, I would never pass you by without making an offer.”
He turned, slow and careful, like a drunk trying not to betray how off balance he was.
The teasing tilt of Gin’s lips was echoed in one uplifted brow.
He’d sweep her into his arms and carry her away like the final scene of An Officer and a Gentleman, but his knees barely supported his own weight at the moment. “Sorry. No groupies on the bus.”
“I’m not a groupie. I’m your new bodyguard.”
He assumed one of the large fellows receding into oblivion along with the rest of humanity was assigned to her. “Big career change for you.”
“My last job was hazardous.”
He doubted she’d retired from that line of work just yet. “Don’t you have a movie coming out?”
“GemGam has a movie coming out,” she clarified. “The movie is ready to distribute. The red carpet will survive without me. I can do press by phone if absolutely necessary. Ethan and Maisie are perfectly capable of handling everything else.”
He managed two steps toward her. She countered with three, which put her within reach to take her face in his hands and taste her smiling lips.
Cheering in the background let him know oblivion was only wishful thinking. He shouted to the side, “Is there any privacy nearby?”
Security cleared a path to a door, and Lex led Gin inside.
She took in the miscellany stacked in the storage room. “It’s not the hall of urinals of my fantasies, but it’ll do.”
“I figured your leg wasn’t ready for you to be on your knees.” He wrapped her in his arms. “You’ll be bored out of your mind within a week without work.”
Her hands slipped under his shirt and climbed his back. “That’s a problem for next week. Today, I’m living in the moment. Following a cute boy wherever the road leads.”
“I sent you the itinerary, wild thing.”
“Shh. This is as spontaneous and unpredictable as I get.”
It had taken a hell of a lot of planning and coordination to get her here without tipping him off, but he wouldn’t have dared predict it in his most wishful dreams. “Welcome to my personal security detail.”
She scowled. “Hold on a minute. What’s it pay?”
“Whatever love looks like on any given day for the rest of our lives. Nonnegotiable.”
“I’m going to need that in writing.”
He lifted his shirt over his ribs to show the contract written on his flesh. The gashes on his chest had been partially filled by a green fairy with golden curls who kissed the ragged edge of one wound to make it better. The irritation from the fresh ink had resolved yesterday so his real-life guardian fairy didn’t have to see him hurt. “When can you start?”
She traced the outline of her likeness, then raised soft green eyes to his. “I already have.”
Acknowledgments
Thanks first to the fine folks who were kind enough to support my short-lived Patreon: AnaStaysHea, Catherine Crone, Claudia Gordon, Pamala, and Susan Ziecu. I sw
ear, I had only the best of intentions when I taunted you with bits of stories that may take me 900 years to write.
My experience with addiction comes from outside, where the view is very different from that of an addict. Lex wouldn’t have been possible without the help of Call-Me-Fitz, who was impressively open about the inner workings of a recovering alcoholic. I didn’t copy-paste his memoir-worthy personal experiences out of respect for his privacy, but there’s an emotional core in the story that wouldn’t have been possible without his generosity.
Last but never least, I tip my hat, raise my glass, and jazz my hands for Editor Angie, who provided an unprecedented amount of emotional labor in addition to her expert story doctoring, which kept this book out of the morgue when I was ready to pull the plug. As always, any lingering weakness and functional impairment, both real and imagined, are the author’s responsibility.
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Also by Ren Benton
Ten Thousand Hours
Weddings are Ivy Miller's business, but when an ex proposes out of the blue, she flees to a tropical paradise rather than walk down the aisle. There, she discovers the passion missing from her sensible existence in the arms of a handsome stranger. She returns home, where no one suspects sweet, practical Ivy possesses a secret wild side — no one except the one-night stand standing in her parents' dining room.
Semi-reformed bad boy Griff Dunleavy barely recognizes this cautious woman as the brazen temptress who left an impression on his flesh a week ago, but there's no mistaking the sensual nature hidden behind her prim and proper façade. He makes an indecent proposal: a fling in which Ivy plays all the parts too untamed for her everyday life, which might supply enough variety to keep him intrigued for more than a day or two.
The offer is too enticing to resist — and too good to last. When reality demands full-time responsibility, Ivy can't neglect family duty for a selfish fantasy. To keep his place in the life of the woman he loves, Griff must prove they can have forever… one hour at a time.
What Comes After Dessert
Twelve years ago, Ben Fielder's childhood sweetheart ran out on him, and his broken heart hasn't held another woman since. During his annual visit to his hometown, he finds something sweeter than cookies behind the counter at the bakery — Tally's back in town, and his response to her makes it clear the only flaw in his heart is that it's still full of her.
Tally Castle knew twelve years ago she wasn't good enough for Westard's golden boy. While Ben made a success of himself out in the real world, she made an even bigger mess of her life. The one good part of limping home was that he hadn't been around to witness her walk of shame. Now the only man she's ever wanted is back, assaulting her brittle defenses with goofy smiles and serious kisses.
To protect her heart, Tally must remind herself his presence is temporary. To heal both their hearts, Ben must convince her this is only the beginning of their second chance.
