Breach of Contract: A Rocker Romance (The Nashvegas Series Book 2)

by Laramie Briscoe

  “Trust me,” - I hook my arm around her waist, dipping my head to steal a kiss - “I don’t know if you’ve ever seen her husband or not, but he plays professional football here in Nashville. If I even thought about looking at her the wrong way, he’d flatten me. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “Oh.There’s a teasing lilt to her tone. “It’s not that you’re worried I’ll be emotionally hurt. It’s that you’re worried you’ll be physically hurt. Got it.”

  “Exactly, isn’t this all about me?”

  She giggles, a look of mirth crossing her face. “Sometimes I wonder how anyone takes you seriously, but then I’m so glad you are the way you are I forget why I was annoyed in the first place.”

  “Great.” I rub my hands together. “That means my evil plan is working. For real though, will this one work? Kristen wants me over there in thirty minutes.”

  “Oh my God,” she groans. “You’re going to be late. It’ll take you at least forty-five minutes to get there from here. That’s not respectful of her time.”

  “She knows me,” I remind her. “She’s not going to expect me to be on time. But if you’re good with this, I’m gonna head out.”

  “I’m good with it.” She nods. “See if she can make it a little tighter across your abs. I like to be able to see those.”

  “Sure thing, babe. I’m your arm candy.”

  She throws an apple in the fruit bowl on the counter toward my head. I catch it one-handed and take a huge bite of it. “Thanks, I needed a snack.”

  “Ugh!”

  Bri was partially right. It’s taken me almost an hour and I’m just about to turn into Kristen’s studio parking lot. I’m late enough that I will definitely catch hell for this. Parking, I rush out and hop in, carrying my shirt with me. “I’m sorry I’m so late! Traffic sucked and I didn’t account for it.”

  She’s sitting at her sewing machine. “I could kill you. I had to get lunch delivered because I got so hungry. I was going to wither away, and this child doesn’t like when I’m hungry.”

  “I owe you.” I do my best to try and appease both of them.

  “Yes you do. We take steak, preferably with baked potatoes and chocolate cake for dessert. If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d also need a good glass of wine.”

  A laugh works its way from my throat. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. Even if it means I wait until you’re no longer with child.”

  She snorts, laughing along with the phrase I’ve used. If there’s one thing we’ve always been able to do with one another, it’s make each other laugh. “Stand up, let me get some measurements. I got a text from your wife asking to make this tight around your mid-section. You better pray you’ve been doing some crunches.”

  “Oh, I do plenty of crunches, no need to worry about me.”

  She rolls her eyes, before getting to work. “So, when are you and Bri going to add to your family?”

  “Maybe we’ll get a dog first.” I give her a look.

  “Yeah, that’s what we thought too, and then I turned up pregnant. Not to say we weren’t excited, but we weren’t planning on it happening quite so suddenly. I was on birth control too. Talk about a false sense of security.”

  Immediately I start to get hot, like the walls are closing in on me. I’ve never passed out before, but it’s a possibility that this might be happening now. “What kind of birth control was it?” Bri’s on birth control and we’ve been fucking a lot lately with no protection other than the little thing she has in her arm.

  “I forget the name of it,” she makes a pin at my waist, before she motions for me to take off the shirt and hand it to her. Sitting down, she makes a few adjustments, handing it back to me to try on again. “But it was in my arm. It’s supposed to have a ninety-nine percent effective rate or something like that. Kick made some sort of stupid joke that he had super sperm. Oh, that looks really good, go ahead and take it off.”

  “I bet he did.” I can just imagine how masculine her husband probably felt. Me? I feel like I’m about to lose the lunch I ate earlier. One thing I’m completely sure of, is that we definitely aren’t prepared for a baby. Not right now. “It must have been the right time for the two of you.”

  She laughs so hard she grabs her sides. “There’s never a right time for a baby, EJ. If you wait for the right time, it’s never going to happen.”

  Again, the light-headed feeling takes over my body.

  “Are you okay, you’re looking slightly pale.”

  “All this talk about babies is about to give me a heart attack,” I grab my chest, needing to sit down.

  “Oh my God, stop being so dramatic.”

  “Me? You’re the one talking about how you were on birth control and it’s the one in your arm. You still got pregnant and blah, blah, blah. That’s the same birth control Bri’s on, and we’ve had lots of sex lately, so excuse me if I’m freaking out when confronted by a pregnant woman about all the ways her birth control failed!”

  She makes a noise, reaching down to grab her stomach.

  “Very funny.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Now you’re going to pretend like you’re in labor.”

  “EJ.” She breathes heavily. “I’m not pretending.”

  It’s then that under the dress she’s wearing, I see a puddle of water forming. “Is that…”

  “My water broke!”

  “Fuck my life,” I sigh. “C’mon let’s get you to the hospital. Call Kick and let him know. We’re a few miles away, no reason to call an ambulance.”

  She agrees, grabbing a towel as we walk out to my SUV, already calling her husband.

  I quickly shoot Bri a text. She’s never going to let me live this down, and I pray no one gets a photo of this. The last thing I need is for us to be turned into some sort of sister-wife love triangle where they think the baby is mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Bri

  In the back of the limo, I hold tightly to Everett’s hand. “Do you think I even have a shot? I mean my album released two years ago.”

  “Yeah, but your single from right before the summer was on fire. It was number one everywhere for three weeks. I definitely think you have a shot. The real question is, why don’t you think you have a shot?” He questions, an eyebrow raised.

  This is one of the things I love most about him. When I’m so quick to doubt myself, he’s just as quick to wonder why I’m doing the doubting. “I’m a natural pessimist,” I defend.

  “Then I’m the other side of your coin. I’ll be your optimist.”

  Even after being together for a little over half a year, I’m not used to this. No one has ever had the faith in me that he does. “It’s funny you have all this faith in me, but none in yourself,” I laugh.

  “It’s the same way with you. You don’t believe you can do anything, but you think I can change the damn world. Both of us have shit to work on.”

  I realize he’s right. Maybe it’s human nature. Maybe it’s just us.

  Both of us are broken in our own ways. Him by the expectations of an industry that will always compare him to his parents, and me by the expectations of family.

  I know, with him at my side, I can take on anything. Instead of dwelling on the dark thoughts, I scoot as close as I can and smile up at him. “This is our first official red carpet together.”

  He lets go of my hand, circling his arm around my neck, before dropping a kiss on the top of my head. “It is.” He pulls me in tight. “Gonna have to throw a bunch of glares while we’re out there so that other dudes know not to fuck with you.”

  Amusement colors my voice. “I think they already know that. You seem to have claimed your property very well.”

  “Hey.” His tone is serious. “You aren’t my property. You’re yours, and I think it’s important you know that. What I want from you is your love and respect. I don’t need to ‘own’ you to make myself feel more like a man. I hope you know that.”

  My chest warms at the care with which he
speaks. “I do. I love you, Everett James.” I lean in, kissing his jawline.

  “Why do you always do that?” He turns his head to me. “Kiss my jawline?”

  “When we’re standing up, it’s usually the only place I can reach on you without standing on my tiptoes. I’ve come to think of it as my spot, so I touch it every chance I get.”

  A triumphant smile worms its way across his face. “It’s yours, baby, do you want me to get a B tattooed on it? It’ll be small, the only person who’ll be able to see it is you.”

  The sentiment makes me laugh and feel good at the same time. “No, you don’t have to get a tattoo, but if I ever catch any other woman kissing it, I’ll kill her.”

  “You don’t have to kill her, .If I ever let someone touch me there that wasn’t you, I’d kill myself.”

  He’s teasing, but I hate the anxiety those words inspire in my body. “Don’t, don’t even joke about it. That’s a situation I never want to take lightly. Some people honestly feel like they have no other way out.”

  His green eyes search mine, delving into them, almost as if he’s trying to uncover the secrets I keep buried so deep that I can’t even find. “Bri,” he tilts his head to the side, his lips pursed. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  We’re saved by someone knocking on the door to the limo, alerting us that it’s time to get out. Immediately I’m on, smile on my face, eyes hiding everything going on inside me. “C’mon.” I grab his hand. “Time to put on a show.”

  But he’s slow to get out of the limo, and I worry for the first time, maybe I’ve let him too close.

  EJ

  The amount of paparazzi standing on the carpet shouldn’t surprise me. I’m very well versed in the ones that always followed my parents around. It’s just they’ve never wanted to see me like this.

  My eyes burn as they all yell for me and Bri to look this way and that. Each of them wants a perfect picture so they can have the coveted spot on TMZ, or the one that will be on the cover of US Weekly. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction. I hate that they’re up in our business like this, but I also know it’s a part of the game.

  We play it, and they play it. Unfortunately none of us can survive without each other. They give us the PR we need, and we help them make the money they want.

  “Kiss her, EJ!”

  It grates on my nerves for someone to tell me what to do when it comes to my wife, but deep down, I know we’ll be able to leave quicker once we do. I hold her against me, bending her slightly backward to take her mouth with mine. It’s chaste compared to all the other kisses we share, mostly because I don’t want others to know how we are with each other.

  It takes forever, but we finally make it down the red carpet and inside the building so we’re able to find out seats. We’re being showed where to go by an usher, and this is another thing I’m not used to. Grey Skies sits close to the middle, but not Brianna. Her seat is on the damn front row, almost center.

  “This is crazy,” I mumble as she situates herself and then I sit next to her.

  “I know, I hate sitting in the front row,” she admits. “But usually if you’re here, that means you’re going to win an award.”

  “Do you have a speech?” I ask, putting my arm around her.

  “No.” She laughs. “I guess if I win, I’ll just say whatever comes from the heart.”

  “Don’t forget me,” I tease.

  “You’re the one I’ll never be able to forget.” She kisses my nose, and together we watch as other artists start to come in.

  I’ve never been too into awards shows like this. My genre is never fully represented, and while I can respect many of the people here are amazing artists, I hate that rock groups aren’t as readily awarded as other genres of music. So there’s usually not a ton for me to pay attention to while I’m here.

  But when I hear the award that Bri’s up for, I sit up straighter, hold her hand tighter. It’s almost as if everything around us fades away, and the only thing I’m listening for is the winner of the award.

  The winner is Brianna Jenkins!

  I stand up with her, holding her tightly before giving her a kiss. “I love you,” I whisper in her ear.

  “I love you too.”

  Clapping loudly along with the rest of the audience, I bend down, giving her my arm as I help her make her way to the stage. Once she gets to the steps, my eyes zero in as she holds her dress, so she doesn’t trip on it. I’m prouder than I’ve ever been as she takes the award.

  She holds a hand to her chest. “Thank you so much. This year has definitely been one of change, and I’m so thankful to my fans for coming along with me. Without you guys I would be nothing. And of course, without my husband, I wouldn’t have the courage to do any of the things I’ve been able to do. I love Everett, thank you for believing in me.”

  With a salute of her award, she walks slowly off the stage, as elegant as ever. Even after she’s left, I can’t wipe the smile off my face. That’s my wife, and no one will ever be able to take that award away from her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Bri

  I’m lying on the couch, trying to relax after the recording session I’ve had with Mal. Together we’re making an album I’m proud of, but it’s emotional, leaving me on the edge of the peace I seem to have found within myself the last few months. Things I thought were well below the surface are threatening to rise to the top again. I’ve wondered if I should contact a therapist. To have someone not connected to me to talk to. But then I always worry about privacy. Even if they’re obligated to keep a lid on what we talk about, I’m still fearful that my darkest secrets will get out, and everyone will look at me differently.

  The intercom in the house beeps. “Bri, I’m sending someone through, she says she’s your mother, and by all accounts it appears to be the truth.”

  Immediately doom descends upon me. How could she be here? After all this time, after I told her never to contact me again. Why is she here now? More than anything, I want to pretend like the guard was wrong, and the house is empty, but I know her. She’ll come back, and she won’t stop until I’ve spoken with her.

  My eyes follow her in our security camera, watching as she gets out of what’s either a ride-share car or a rented one. There’s no way she would have driven down here. She’s too used to first-class and all the amenities that come with it. She hurries up the steps, and as her hand poises to knock, I fling the door open.

  “What can I do for you?”

  A smarmy smile spreads across her face, darkening her eyes. The sickly saccharine of what she wants to portray to the world is enough to make me almost want to puke. “Brianna, it’d be nice if you’d invite your mother in.”

  “It would, wouldn’t it, but I don’t think I want to.” My words are a defiance, especially when I lift my chin. “This is my house, you have no place here.” I fold my arms across my chest, daring her to fight me on this. “What are you doing here?”

  Now that it’s apparent I won’t be letting her in, the gloves are off. She’s no longer smiling, no longer acting like the mother she’s never been. I’m cold as the betrayal pours off her in waves. Before she even says anything, I get a premonition of what she’s done.

  “I just wanted to give you a heads up. A magazine article will be releasing this week. It’s an exclusive conversation with me and them, about you.”

  “What have you done?”

  She pushes her hair back, exposing a face that needs work. Someone should have taught her about moisturizer when she was my age. Then again, she probably wouldn’t have used it. Anything that would make life easier or better for her, she’s completely against.

  “They were looking for your secrets. You know the ones buried so deep that only someone who really knows you.” She puts a finger to her chin. “Would be privy to it. Like that four weeks you spent at Healthwise.”

  “You wouldn’t.” My heart pounds in my chest, jarring agai
nst the bones, pumping so hard I’m almost afraid it’ll jump from my chest. “That was the single most difficult month of my life.”

  “Oh I know, judging by the way you’ve never spoken about it, it must also be the most embarrassing.”

  This hurts. I know who it was embarrassing for, and it wasn’t me. It was her and my dad. They didn’t want anyone to know what was happening, especially in the middle of my first successful tour.

  “How are your super popular husband and his band going to handle it when they find out Brianna Jenkins doesn’t respond well to pressure? That just a little too much will send her over the edge?”

  “A little too much? We both know it was more than that. I was exhausted, I hadn’t had a day off in months, and I was a teenager! You should’ve cared about how I was doing mentally, but all you were worried about was if others would find out.”

  “He’s put a lot of money into this, Bri,” she taunts.

  “We both have,” I counter her. “Do you think he’s the only one who brought money into this marriage, Mom? I would’ve brought a lot more in if it hadn’t been for you and Dad spending mine frivolously, but we won’t get into that.”

  “We had the right, Brianna. You signed the contract.”

  “I didn’t know what I was signing. As my parents and managers, you should’ve been watching out for me, but instead you were watching out for yourselves. How dare you come to my home and threaten me about what you’re going to say to my husband about the darkest period in my life.”

  Her eyes glow, almost with triumph and it kills me because I know she has me right where she wants me.

  “I don’t know about you,” she starts. “But I’m not sure your husband is going to react well into finding out you tried to kill yourself and put on a mental hold. Have you told him about it, Brianna?”

  She knows I haven’t. This is the one thing I don’t ever want to talk about. This time in my life. It was detrimental to every aspect of who I was, and made me who I am today, although I think I would’ve made it just fine without her help. “You don’t know him like I do.”