Rock Me Harder (Licks of Leather Book 2)

by Jenna Jacob

  “Have you?”

  “Yes,” Tori answered indignantly. “Stop deflecting, Darren. How do plan to make her stay quiet? I’ll help you bury her body if it comes to that.”

  I tossed back my head and laughed. God, she was fucking priceless. “I’m not going to kill her or whip out the duct tape. There’s no way to keep her from talking. I learned long ago, the only thing I can do in situations like this is to be proactive, not reactive.”

  “Situations like this?” Tori blinked. “How many other girls have you knocked up?”

  This time, she didn’t bother hiding her jealousy.

  “Just you, beautiful. I haven’t even slept with another woman since you.”

  Tori rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t go blowing that much smoke, Darren. It’s been over two years.”

  I pulled the car to a stop in her driveway and cut the engine before turning so she could see my entire face…see that I wasn’t blowing smoke up her ass. “It’s the truth, Tori. After the night we spent together, no other woman on the planet exists but you.”

  “Whoa, damn,” she whispered.

  “Are you sleeping with your boss?” I knew it was none of my business, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted her to answer, but I couldn’t keep from asking.

  “Brice? Oh, lord. No. Never. Last night was the first date I’ve had since… I haven’t been with anyone since you, either.”

  “Over two whole years, as well, huh? Whoa, damn,” I tossed back with a crooked smile.

  “Don’t do that, please,” she whispered.

  “Do what?”

  “Smile at me like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it hurts too much.”

  Her answer bewildered me. “What do you mean? It hurts too much?”

  Tori took a deep breath and swallowed tightly. “Being around you but not with you. Seeing you but not being able to touch you. Hearing you talk at me instead of to me. It…hurts.”

  “It hurts me too, and then I just get mad all over again.”

  She closed her eyes and blew out a defeated sigh. Then without a word, Tori got out of the car and walked into the house.

  I felt like a flaming douchebag.

  Tori had done a number on my head and my heart. And while I wasn’t a limp dick who regularly handed over my man card, I couldn’t magically bounce back while my wounds were still open, raw, and bleeding…even when I knew she was sorry.

  Scrubbing a hand over my face, I, too blew out a breath, grabbed the sack of tenderloins, and strode to the house.

  Once more, Dustin met me at the door, bouncing with energy and smiles.

  My heart lightened instantly.

  Christ, my little man was…everything. I’d walk through fire and slay fucking dragons to keep him safe and happy.

  I finally grasped the true reason my mom had cried that day at the music store. A lump of emotion lodged in my throat, I picked Dustin up and swung him around the room, basking in the squeals of laughter pealing off his lips.

  Tori hurried from the hallway. The minute she caught sight of us, the worry lining her face vanished.

  “Thank you,” I mouthed, though the sentiment was far deeper. There weren’t words to convey my appreciation for giving Dustin life, love, and a stable foundation for the past eighteen months.

  As she sensed the wealth in my response, a bittersweet smile tugged her lips.

  “Park. Park,” Dustin chanted as I set his feet back on the floor.

  “We already went to the park. It’s time for lunch. Go wash your hands.”

  “But park,” he moaned.

  “I’ll share my tenderloin and fries with you.”

  “Glennnn loin?”

  “Yes. Glenda’s tenderloin.”

  “Oh, boy.” Tossing a fist pump into the air, Dustin raced toward the bathroom.

  “I can run back and get a couple more, for your dad and him,” I offered.

  “No. It’s safer if you to stay right here. The sandwiches are huge. There’ll be plenty. Besides, Dad is lying down, resting. He has a headache.”

  The strain in her voice told me she was worried. “Is he all right?”

  “I’m sure he’s fine. Ever since his stroke, it’s hard not to freak out when he gets a headache.”

  I blinked. Aside from his kidney transplant, Ed appeared the picture of health. “When did he have a stroke?”

  “Last March. You didn’t notice his hand?”

  “Yes, of course, but I didn’t want to be rude. I just assumed he had arthritis.”

  “Ready, Mommy,” Dustin appeared, hands dripping wet with water. “Glennnn loin?”

  Tori grinned. “Come here, you little monkey. You forgot to dry off.”

  Bag in hand, I followed them into the kitchen. While Tori wiped Dustin’s hands, I spread our meals out on the table.

  After she cut her sandwich into fourths and passed a section to Dustin, I did the same, smiling at the wide grin adorning his face.

  “Darren share, Mommy.”

  “I see that.” She smiled and we all dove in.

  As I munched on the succulent tenderloin, I looked out the window and into the fenced backyard of tall maple trees, a newer-looking swing set.

  “Do you play outside a lot?”

  “Uh-huh,” Dustin replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “After lunch do you want to play kickball in the backyard?”

  He shook his head sadly.

  “He doesn’t have a ball anymore. It popped,” Tori explained.

  “How do you pop a soccer ball?”

  “It was just a little rubber ball.”

  “We need to go shopping, then. Is there one of those supercenter stores in town?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. We’ll go after lunch then.”

  “Do you think it’s wise to go…shopping?”

  “Why not? It’ll be fun. We’ll all get hats and sunglasses.” I smirked.

  Chapter Seven

  Tori

  My nerves were singing like a church choir as Darren pushed Dustin—now sporting a little red ball cap and blue plastic sunglasses rimmed in dinosaurs—through the store in the shopping cart. Not only did I worry Darren was going to being recognized, but the warmth and peace our happy-little-family façade conjured inside me clashed with reality. The anxiety of praying Dustin didn’t have one of his infamous toddler meltdowns only added to the slurry of hot-mess-ness bubbling inside me.

  “I need your help here.” Darren nodded toward a display of car seats. I’d been so lost in my fears that I had no idea what aisle we were in, until now. “I don’t know what size he needs.”

  “You want to buy a car seat?”

  “Well, yeah. I’m going to need one when we pick you up from work and take you to lunch. Or when I take him to the library or…whatever.”

  Darren wanted to take me to lunch? What did that mean?

  Nothing, the little voice in my head cautioned, crushing the hope rising inside me.

  “You don’t have a problem with me and Dustin spending time together while you’re working, do you?” I didn’t miss the subtle challenge in his voice or his stare. “If it will make you feel better, Ed can come with us.”

  “No. It’s fine. You don’t need Dad to supervise. I’m sure he’d appreciate a little solitude now and then.”

  “Good. So, which one of these should I get?”

  After selecting the proper car seat, diaper bag, and all the necessities to fill it, Darren pushed the cart toward the sporting goods department. I tensed. We had to pass the toy section.

  “It might get ugly here in a few minutes,” I warned him.

  “Ugly how?” he asked, quickly checking out the shoppers milling around us.

  I sent a pointed stare toward the toy aisles. “He’ll want everything he sees.”

  Darren shrugged. “Don’t all kids?”

  “Sure. But once he realizes he’s not getting every single one, it’s
going to get loud.”

  “I make a living being loud.” He smirked.

  Images of Darren on the stage, biceps flexing, strong fingers sliding along the frets and strings as he brought the guitar to life with a melodious scream, flashed through my brain.

  “Toys!” Dustin cried, catching sight of the colorful displays.

  “We’re going there next, my man,” Darren promised. “But first, we need to get some outdoor toys so we can play in the backyard.”

  “Play?” His eyes grew nearly as wide as his smile.

  As if sensing Dustin’s limited toddler patience, Darren grabbed a soccer ball, oversized plastic bat and balls, before pausing at a plastic turtle sandbox. I could see the wheels in his brain churning.

  “No way,” I blurted out.

  “Why not? Does he already have one?”

  “No. And he doesn’t need one.”

  “What about that?” Darren asked pointing to a huge trampoline suspended from the ceiling.

  “Are you crazy? No.”

  A wicked smile tugged his lips before he winked down at Dustin. “Mommy says no a lot, doesn’t she?”

  Dustin nodded and frowned.

  “Stop with the guilt trips, you two,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “You know, your backyard is nice and big. I bet there’s enough room for a p-o-n-y.”

  “You’re pulling my chain now, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe.” He flashed me a toe-curling grin that stole my breath.

  Without thinking, I lightly slapped his arm. A flicker of something carnal flashed over his face.

  “Toys, Mommy,” Dustin reminded impatiently.

  “If you promise not to cry, I’ll buy you a package of dinos. Okay?”

  “No cry. Me big boy,” he assured solemnly.

  I didn’t know if he fully grasped the concept of our deal or the fact that Darren was tossing another dozen toys into the shopping cart. Somehow, we managed to escape the toy department without incident.

  Unfortunately, we didn’t make it out of the store without one.

  As Darren grabbed some toiletries, a group of young girls recognized him, and all hell broke loose. Screams and giggles echoed off the shampoo bottles as shoppers clogged the end of the aisle, staring curiously.

  Amidst the chaos of cell phones snapping pictures and the demand for autographs, Darren pulled his wallet out.

  Apology written all over his face, he handed me a credit card. “Go pay. I’ll meet you in the car as soon as I can.”

  With a nod, I gripped the shopping cart as the crowd surged around us. Confusion and panic lined Dustin’s face, and fat tears were threatening to fall as his little chin quivered.

  “It’s okay, buddy,” I whispered. “Darren’s friends are just happy to see him.”

  “No friends,” he whimpered. “Scary.”

  My heart hurt for him. He was too young to understand why the near-hysterical mob was descending on Darren.

  They’ll hide in your bushes. Follow you to and from work. I’m talking about a complete and total invasion of your privacy.

  His warning gonged through my brain. Darren might be used to this kind of attention, but Dustin and I were ill-equipped to deal with it.

  In full momma-lion mode, I pushed the cart and nearly plowed into a teenaged boy wearing a Licks of Leather T-shirt racing headlong into the still-squealing fray.

  I tossed our items on the conveyor belt while Dustin screamed for Darren.

  Slow-rolling anger began building in my system.

  My quiet, peaceful life had been blown to smithereens in less than twenty-four hours.

  I didn’t sign up for this…for any of this. Yes, I was the mother of Darren Ash’s baby and damn glad I’d been blessed with Dustin. And while every hormone in my body still ached to be more than just Darren’s baby momma, no part of me wanted a thing to do with the rock star now being mobbed next to the Head & Shoulders.

  Sprinting to my car, I ignored the stink-eye the mothers of well-behaved children were giving me while Dustin continued having a righteous meltdown. Though I’d explained a dozen times that Darren was going to meet us at the car, Dustin was screaming for me not to leave the man.

  I counted to ten three times and finally said, “Screw it.”

  After I buckled my screaming son into his car seat, I tossed our purchases into the trunk and climbed behind the wheel.

  Visions of a hot, luxurious bubble bath and a fat glass of wine danced in my head as I pulled to stop in front of the store. Flipping on my flashers, I waited…and waited…and waited while my son screamed like I was torturing him.

  Finally, Darren stepped out, surrounded by people. The smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes until he spotted my car. He jerked the door open and started to climb in when the questions pelting him splattered the interior of the vehicle.

  “Is that your girlfriend?”

  “Is that your kid?”

  “Hey, I know that chick. You work for Dr. Bennett, don’t you?”

  “Is that your wife?”

  “Did you secretly get married?”

  “Whose baby is that?”

  He gave the mob a quick wave, sank into the seat, and shut the door.

  I put the car in drive and headed toward the exit, not caring if I ran anyone over or not. Worry etched his face as he swiveled in the passenger seat and gaped at our still screaming son.

  “Hey, little man,” he called out loudly. “What’s wrong?”

  A string of undiscernible gibberish rolled off Dustin’s tongue as he kicked his feet.

  “Is this the ugly you were talking about?” Darren asked, arching a brow.

  “Yep,” I bit out. “Is that the invasion of privacy you talked about?”

  He exhaled a heavy sigh. “Sort of.”

  Pinching my lips together, I silently pulled onto the main thoroughfare and headed toward home.

  Darren tried to soothe our son again but failed. Short seconds later, he climbed over the console and into the backseat. Fumbling with the latch on the car seat, he finally freed our toddler from hell and simply clutched him—snotty face and all—against his chest.

  My heart nearly burst, and tears stung my eyes as I glanced in the rearview and saw him rocking Dustin and softly singing my song—the one I sang each time I tucked him into bed. This was the man I’d spent the last two years aching for…the man who would haunt my soul until the day I died, not the one who’d been mobbed at the store.

  Fighting the emotion rising inside me, I pulled into the driveway beside Darren’s car and realized Dustin had stopped crying.

  “He’s asleep,” Darren whispered as he lifted Dustin to his shoulder and stepped out of the backseat. “I think he wore himself out, crying.”

  “Happens every time. Here, let me take him from you and carry him to bed.”

  “I’ve got him.”

  Dad was asleep in the recliner as I breezed past him and pulled the covers down on Dustin’s bed. Two seconds behind me, Darren gently laid him on the mattress and brushed the wet hair off Dustin’s forehead and then tucked the covers over him.

  Taking a step back, Darren glanced around the room, pausing when he spied the youth guitar against the wall. Astonishment, approval, and gratitude flared in his eyes.

  “You bought him that?” he asked in a voice thick with emotion.

  I sent him a weak smile and nodded. “I was hoping maybe he’d be a prodigy, too.”

  He blinked and clenched his jaw, then opened his arms. “Come here.”

  Heart leaping to my throat, I drifted toward him as if my feet had wings. I knew Darren’s touch was going to shred me apart, but when he wrapped his arms around me, I didn’t care what price I had to pay.

  Closing my eyes, I drank in his strength, his scent, and that inexpiable feeling of completeness. He pressed a soft kiss on the top of my head, sending a tear skipping down my cheek.

  “Thank you, beautiful.” When I felt him start to release me, I quickly
wiped my cheek and inhaled a deep breath. “Give me your keys and I’ll unload the car.”

  “I’ll help.”

  As he headed to the driveway, a Jeep pulled to the curb and stopped.

  “See? I wasn’t making it up. He’s right there!” a young blonde exclaimed, pointing at Darren.

  “Go back in the house, Tori,” he instructed in a low, angry voice.

  “But you’ll have to make two trips.”

  “I don’t want you subjected to this shit.”

  “Too late.”

  Painting on a plastic smile, I strode to the end of the driveway and narrowed my eyes on the grinning blonde.

  “Yes. Darren Ash is here. If you respect the man, then respect his privacy. Go away and don’t come back.”

  “You don’t have to be a bitch,” the female passenger with dark hair sneered.

  “Oh, I haven’t started yet. Trust me.” Spinning on my heel, I stormed back to the car. As the Jeep squealed away, I grabbed the last two packages. Darren arched his brows and flashed a grin.

  “I should have let you run interference for me at the store instead of sending you to check out.”

  “No. It was a good thing you did. The hordes scared Dustin half to death.”

  All humor left his face as he issued a curse. “I’m sorry, Tori. I have no control—”

  “I know,” I said, cutting him off. “You have no control over what your fans do. I don’t either. The only thing I can control is whether or not I subject our son to mass hysteria.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying…I don’t know how you deal with that…onslaught when you’re out in public, but I can’t live like that. And I won’t put Dustin through that either.”

  Anger flared along with his nostrils. “That’s why I told you to get back inside the house. I’m trying to protect you. If you think the crowd at the store was bad, you ain’t seen nothing yet. It’s about to get a whole lot uglier.”

  Terror had me in a choke hold.

  I wanted to scream at him…demand him to leave and take all the insanity with him. But the arrival of the Jeep told me it was already too late. They knew who I was and where I lived. There was no escape from what was about to unfold.

  “Since leaving Dustin isn’t an option for me, after we haul this stuff inside—” he lifted the bags in one hand, the other clutching the car seat—“I’m calling my agent, Quinn, to tell him I need bodyguards by nightfall. Because tomorrow morning, this little town of yours is going to be crawling with reporters.”