Her cheeks red, she nodded.
“Ash has a big mouth.”
“He just wanted me to be prepared. But he didn’t tell me about you and the piano. I can’t believe I missed it on the way in. It’s my favorite instrument. I love the way it can make a melancholy melody or happy tune at the same time. Your song is a little of both.”
Intuitively, she’d picked up on that when I hadn’t even put any words to it yet.
“Is that why you like Barry Manilow and Elton John? For the piano?”
“Yes.”
“Makes sense. Though you need to broaden your education if you’re gonna hang around a rock ’n’ roller.”
“Is that you?”
“Hell fucking yeah, that’s me. Cut me open and I bleed two things—rock music and saltwater.”
“But the song for your dad isn’t rock. Neither was the Firelight score. It was classical.”
“Not done with my dad’s tune yet. I create on the piano like Ramon does on his guitar. Once I get it where I want it to be, I’ll take it into the studio and get together with the guys, maybe your sister too, and we’ll add all the instruments.”
“Amazing.” Hollie’s eyes took on a wistful sheen. “Collaboration is cool. The layers it takes to make something out of nothing. With the acting, it starts with a script, a vague feel for a character, then getting together with the other actors to work on chemistry, then costumes, blocking, filming, and editing.”
“You did a lot of movies this past year. Do you think the ingredients were right?”
“I do.” Her face lit up. “I’ve seen the Valentine one all the way through. It was a joy to make except for . . .”
She didn’t finish, and the light inside her faded.
“What about you and the score for the Firelight piece?” Her voice was thick as she attempted to redirect me again. “How did you end up doing something like that?”
“Linc got the contract for Outside, and Ash closed the deal. They actually already found me another. I get paid a shit-ton for those movie scores. Just about pays the taxes on the house here.”
“But your royalties from the Dirt Dogs.” She angled her head, her ponytail skimming into her cleavage, and my mind went stupid for a moment as all the blood in my body rushed south. “Surely after a career as long as yours, those are substantial.”
“It’s not chump change, but we split it evenly four ways, and I have most of my share tied up in investments. If I’m lucky, they’ll keep up with the ever-rising property tax rate on the island.”
“Is that really a lot on a house this size?” She glanced around, her expression not judgmental but curious.
“It’s only twelve hundred square feet. It wouldn’t appraise high on the mainland, except that it’s not on the mainland. It’s waterfront in Hawaii. There’s only so many habitable locations away from the volcanos and the flooding. It would appraise even higher being where it is, only it’s old and dated.” I lifted a finger and shook it as her mouth twitched, giving her the eye. “Don’t say old and dated like me.”
“You’re not that old.” She squinted at me. “But dated?” She tapped her cheek. “Hmm. I’d have to say yes. Those board shorts are pretty retro.”
“Vintage.”
“Vintage 2009, maybe.”
I laughed. “Almost had them that long.” But what did it matter what I wore? Just in the ocean and then took them off to fuck.
“How old are you?” she asked, tilting her head inquisitively again.
“I’m thirty-five.” Nearly twice as old as Hollie, though she always seemed much older to me. Something in her eyes marked her as an older soul, and those eyes of hers had hooked me before the rest of her did. “Surely you read all my stats on the internet. I read all of yours.”
Hollie rolled her eyes. “Don’t believe all the stuff you read. A lot of it is made up for publicity. I’m sure yours isn’t all true either. Well, except for . . . I mean . . . Never mind.”
Her cheeks pinkened as she twisted her hands together. It was her nervous tell, like Fanny fluttering her hands.
“It’s getting late,” Hollie said quickly. “Let me help clean all this up. You got the food.”
“Leave it,” I said. This was one redirect I wasn’t going to let her have.
I captured her hands, feeling the stinging burn the instant my skin skimmed hers. The desire to strip every single piece of clothing from her body was strong. It got harder to resist each time I touched her.
We were going to set the sheets on fire when I finally got her to a bed.
“You know about me being married before,” I said, giving her the prompt and waiting for her to confirm. I wanted the issue of Lalana out of the way.
“Uh-huh.” Hollie’s fingers twitched in my hold. “She’s beautiful.” Her eyes inexplicably filled. “And I know about your son.”
The unexpected impact of that blow blasted me, taking my breath away and stealing every hint of desire.
“Death doesn’t hurt the dead.” I ducked my head so she wouldn’t see the devastation in my gaze. “But it sure as shit fucks up the living.”
Chapter Twelve
* * *
Hollie
As I processed the truth of Diesel’s words, I watched the man who had shared so much disappear, replaced by the recalcitrant rock star I was more accustomed to dealing with.
“I’m going out.” He released my hand as if only then realizing he still held it and didn’t want to be tethered to the house, his memories, or me.
“Oh, okay.”
“Don’t know when I’ll be back,” he said, and realization dawned. He was going out to hook up with someone. “You have my cell.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Call if you need something. You might have to leave a message, but I’ll get back to you.” He unzipped a hidden pocket in his board shorts and fished out a key.
“I’ll be okay. I won’t bother you.” My body drew tight. Him leaving so abruptly felt like a rejection.
“Great.” Diesel’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t move. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something more.
Did he expect me to ask him to stay?
“What’s keeping you? Go on.” I lifted my chin, though it felt like there were sharp prongs embedded inside my chest. “I told you I wouldn’t interfere with your routine while I’m here.”
The look on his face reminded me of a thundercloud. He gave me a nod and stepped around the table. His long strides took him through the living space and out of view. I cringed when I heard the motorcycle start up a few moments later. Hot tears pricked my eyes.
Just me crying at the drop of a hat.
I told myself Diesel leaving to be with someone else didn’t mean anything. A reminder I apparently needed if I were tempted to take my interest in him further. Which, of course, I wisely would not.
I gathered the leftover food, stuffed it back into the bags, and threw it away in the garbage receptacle I found under the sink. Washing my hands, I noted that the kitchen was just like the rest of the place—devoid of personal touches. No plaque proclaiming THE BEACH IS MY HAPPY PLACE. No mementos from his travels all over the world with the band. No photos of him and his father, or of his son.
The son he continued to mourn years and years later.
Death fucks up the living.
It certainly did. And I wasn’t the only one messed up by it.
I slid my hand over my stomach. I wasn’t ready to decide if I was up to being a mother yet, but I did know that I would do anything to protect my unborn child.
Was that how my mom had felt about me? Even being willing to marry someone besides my biological father, the man she’d loved until she died? I could understand her choice now in a way I’d never been able to before.
Once I found a sponge and a towel, I wiped off and dried the table. Domestic duties done, I noted the grocery totes on the floor. They probably contained the toiletries I’d requested.
Not ready f
or bed just yet, I crossed to the glass door between all the windows, opened it, and stepped out onto the porch. The ocean was a stone’s throw away. A path of smooth river rocks led down the hill to the shallow beach below.
It was spectacular to be this close to the water. No wonder Diesel’s property taxes were so high.
The steady breeze whipped the sticky, humidity-dampened strands of hair from my face. I closed my eyes, consciously clearing my mind, exhaling the stress of the travel day and all the rest. The rhythmic lap of the waves against the shore soothed me.
Reopening my eyes, I found my breathing was more relaxed, and moved to the wooden railing that was painted blue to match the roof. I would come out in the morning after Diesel went surfing and put my cup of coffee on it and do some more thinking, maybe even use a beach towel for a mat and do some yoga.
For now, I just leaned, watched the waves, and let my mind wander, pretending I didn’t wonder what Diesel was doing and who he was doing it with.
• • •
Diesel
Pissed off as I sped down the dark two-lane road back into town, I also admired the shit out of Hollie that she had the balls to bring up a powder-keg topic like she had.
My bandmates never mentioned my son. Interviewers, even the most unscrupulous like Carter Besille, knew better than to ask me about him.
Lalana sure as shit never talked about him. Ditto with my dad and Manoa, unless it was in vague generality, like acknowledging the recent anniversary and how it affected me.
Badly.
I was a loose cannon. Everyone knew it. The guys in the band. Fanny. Surely Hollie knew it too. If she’d had any doubts, the way I’d gone off tonight had certainly given her enough confirmation.
I hit the turn signal and turned into the Paradise parking lot. Manoa would be gone. He never worked this late. No more prodding questions about Hollie or my dad to deflect.
No, this late on a weekday, it was a much different scene. Seasoned staff accustomed to dealing with drunks oversaw patrons like me with an edge that needed smoothing. Alcohol was the preferred vice for most. I couldn’t tolerate the stuff after dealing with Lalana and her issues related to substance abuse over the years. Fucking was my way of coping.
“Yo, Diesel.” Koa Rossman pushed away from the woman he’d been leaning against and crossed to me. The ass-wipe was my steepest competition for the priority waves on beaches other than my own, and for primo snatch at the bar. “Heard you were in here earlier.”
“I’m back.” I shrugged. I didn’t need to explain jack to him.
“The sexy little blonde not enough for you?”
My eyes narrowed. “Who told you about Hollie?”
“Is that her name?”
Shit.
“Saw her get on the back of the Ninja when I was working my shift at the airport.” His light brown eyes narrowing, he studied me for an overly long beat. “Not one you forget. Though apparently you have. If you’re done with her already, mind if I have a go?”
“Yeah, I mind.” I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and lifted him off his toes.
“All right. Okay.” Koa knocked my hands away. “Not getting in a fight with you over a bitch.”
“She’s not—” I snapped my mouth shut. I sounded like Ash when he first met Fanny. I reminded myself that Hollie was the same as they all were, minus the few minor exceptions like her sister. Play with them in known parameters and set them aside. That way no one got hurt.
“She’s not what?”
“Nothing. Have a go if you want.” He could try. Hollie would shoot him down like she had me countless times. Koa wouldn’t stand a chance with her.
“Righteous.” Grinning like a doofus, a lopsided smile on his sun-bronzed face, he angled toward the door, weaving unsteadily.
I considered stopping him, only because I didn’t want him driving drunk, not that I cared much if he paid her an unsupervised visit tonight.
Koa was a talkative pest, but I’d known him since he graduated from high school. He was a good kid who had stayed on the island for the surfing, long after his parents returned to the mainland. He wasn’t a threat to her. If she told him no, it was no. He wasn’t a perv like Hollie’s stepfather.
“Whoa there, Koa.” The late-night security guy stopped him before he could exit. “Let’s leave the romancing for another day when you’re not trying to drink your sorrows away. You wouldn’t make a good impression on anyone right now. Let’s get you a ride home.”
Exhaling to loosen a held breath, I scanned the length of the bar and found my ride for the night. Sauntering toward her, I noted how her reflected eyes widened in the mirror behind the bar when she saw me.
“Hey, Diesel Le.” She swiveled around on her stool, looking up at me through fake lashes. “How’s it going?”
“Can’t complain.” I could, but this wasn’t about talking and sharing confidences like I’d done earlier with Hollie. This was just basic needs, scratching an itch. “What’s your name, darlin’?”
I draped my arm around her shoulder, disappointed when I noted how different she felt from what I was looking for, and the lack of any electricity when I touched her.
“Sharon.” She rapidly blinked her baby blues at me.
Why did chicks do that? It wasn’t sexy. It just made me think they had something in their eyes.
“You wanna go somewhere and get naked?” I didn’t see any reason to be indirect. “I need a fuck for tonight. You up for that?”
“I’m up for anything you want to do.” She flicked a long strand of hair that was a boring brassy blond over her shoulder. “I’m a big fan of the band.”
Ah, I wondered how she knew my name. Even out here, there were groupies.
They play a part, the same as you.
I froze as Hollie’s words crystallized in my brain.
Yeah, my increased dissatisfaction lately had a lot to do with her pointing out the obvious all those months ago. But unfortunately, it had a lot more to do with the fact that no one I fucked was her.
Chapter Thirteen
* * *
Hollie
“No! Let me go! Get off me!”
I was having another nightmare. I recognized it, but knowing didn’t help me wake up. It had to play out all the way till the end with Samuel morphing into Max.
“Hollie. Fuck. Stop thrashing.”
“Diesel?” Groggy at first, I opened my eyes and stared up at his handsome face. The moonlight streaming in the window illuminated his form.
And, oh, what a form it was—six and a half feet of sinewy muscle draped in warm coppery skin that made every nerve ending in my body sizzle with awareness, even the parts that weren’t in direct contact. Realizing the position we were in, me on my back with the covers tangled around my ankles, and him on top straddling me, I experienced a rush of pleasurable heat.
“Yeah, it’s me. Who the hell were you expecting?”
“I wasn’t expecting anyone.” My eyes narrowed. “I was asleep.”
“You screamed.”
“I do that sometimes.” Flushing, I turned my head aside. It was embarrassing enough, but at least I wasn’t crying. “Get off me.”
I bucked, then stopped when I felt him. His cock was hard, so very hard and hot against my thigh.
“Sometimes or all the time?” he asked.
I turned my head to look Diesel straight in the eyes. “Every night since the funeral.” I figured my directness would send him running away like it had earlier. “I told you I was messed up.”
“Not any more than I am.” He had my arms pinned to the mattress with his large hands.
Did he know that he was running the pad of his thumb in a circle against my skin?
“I’m sorry about what I said earlier.” I’d been wanting to apologize since he left. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Ah, Pelehonuamea.” His voice was a raspy whisper that seemed to give voice to my darkest desires. “Don’t apologize for speaking th
e truth, even if it’s truth that burns like fire.”
“The darkness consumes everything. I feel like I can’t breathe. That’s why I think Samuel’s crushing me all over again in my nightmare.”
I didn’t tell Diesel the rest of it. It frightened me that my subconscious had begun to equate Max to my stepfather.
“What does that pele word mean?” I tugged against Diesel’s hold, and he released me. “You’ve called me that before.”
“Goddess of fire.” He climbed off me but didn’t leave the bed.
“Oh.” I liked that.
“A thief too, it seems.” From his new position with his hip pressed against mine, he reached for the sheet and pulled it over me.
“A what? Why?” Oh. His shirt. “You weren’t here to ask permission, and it was the only thing I could find for pajamas.” I wasn’t sleeping in the nude. I could get into enough trouble without parading around him in the buff.
“Anything you need inside this house, you’re welcome to have.”
“Thank you.” Why did the way he said that give me a shiver? Like maybe he meant he was included in that offer.
“Did you . . . Was she . . . Did you have a good time?” My chest still registered the bite of him abandoning me, but I tried to keep up the pretense that it didn’t matter what he did or with whom.
“It was a disappointing excursion.”
“Why—”
“Enough questions. Go back to sleep.” Diesel tucked the sheet tightly around my upper arms. Everywhere his skin connected with mine left a trail of heat.
“I can’t,” I said honestly. His dark eyes seemed to be truth-extracting portals.
“Hot milk. Counting. Meditating. Have you tried any of those to see if they help?”
“Yes. And no, they didn’t. My thoughts circle until I run out of steam, then I drift off. Go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you. Don’t worry about me.”
“You liked the piano earlier.”
“I did very much. It sounded like rain on a windowpane. It was pretty and soothing.”
“Have you tried music to go to sleep?”
(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5) Page 122
