by Tara Leigh
The woman planned for everything, including deviations from The Plan. Which was why, despite all the signs, I never imagined Piper would have an unplanned pregnancy.
And she refused to say who the father was.
What the what?
On one hand, Piper’s situation made her seem human, at least. Like, no matter how many to-do lists we make, life was a tsunami none of us could control.
And on the other, I was trying to be on my best behavior. Piper didn’t need me making her life any more difficult than it already was.
Of course, this only had me more on edge. I could vent with PR Piper, but now that she was Pregnant Piper, I needed to behave.
Nervous anxiety had festered in the pit of my stomach all day, and it needed to stay locked down for at least the next few hours.
For me this was a work event, not a party.
It wasn’t long ago that I’d walked into Travis’s office, unsure whether he would see any potential in my career. In the past few months “Verity Moore, disgraced pop princess” had been erased, replaced with: “Verity Moore, the pop princess currently taking the music scene by storm after linking up with rocker Dax Hughes.” At least, when it wasn’t “Verity Moore, former child star turned latest #metoo victim.”
It was as if no one believed I could make it on my own. That I needed to ride on a man’s coattails or a trendy cause to be relevant.
Maybe one day I would be brave enough to publicly acknowledge my experiences…but today wasn’t that day.
“Pulling up now,” I heard Piper say into her earpiece, jolting me from my own thoughts. “Verity, remember to walk slowly. Let them get shots of your dress from every angle. Dax is in the car right behind us. Just wait for him at the step and repeat.”
The car came to a stop, and I edged forward in my seat. “Why do I have to wait—”
The door opened, and my question was cut off by the screams of awaiting fans and paparazzi. Plastering a smile on my face, I stood on my Swarovski-encrusted heels and took small steps along the red carpet, feeling like an idiot. This wasn’t the Grammys, for god’s sake.
I had said as much to Travis, but he’d only laughed, reminding me that this was as close as many of the people integral to my career would get to a star-studded Hollywood event. Corporate sponsors, venue owners, music journalists, advertising executives, and radio DJs. We were all just small pieces in a big machine, and every wheel and cog needed its share of oil.
Lights exploded around me, the world a bright blur.
Verity, show us your dress! Verity, over here! Who are you wearing? Verity, over here! Verity, can you give us a spin? Verity, over here! Verity, show us your shoes!
Look right. Look left. Spin. Step. Smile. Repeat.
Verity, are you throwing shade at Jack Lester with your new song? Verity, are you and Dax a couple? Is he the reason you’re on the tour? Verity, are you angry Jack Lester didn’t offer you a role in his new show?
I thought I was prepared for a return to the spotlight, but my fancy dress and flawless makeup were no shield against the onslaught of questions about Jack. I wasn’t prepared for my former producer to intrude on this night, not at all. Suddenly, I was right back at J.J.s—coffee in one hand, juice in the other. The urge to run overwhelming.
I lost my sense of direction, my pupils burning from staring into the bright lights, cheeks already aching. I froze, my muscles tight and tense. Not even knowing which way to go.
A roar from the crowd drew my attention, and out of the blinding light came a dark silhouette, closer and closer until all I could see was Dax’s crooked grin.
A surge of relief swept aside my embarrassment over my behavior the last time we were together. Maybe I didn’t deserve Dax, but right now I needed him.
And when his arm wrapped around me, sliding over the bare skin of my back, I had to bite back a gasp at the spark of electricity that lit into me. A genuine current that moved from his body into mine. Adrenaline spiked, my pulse chasing after it. Joy following at a distance, its steps tentative and uneven.
We posed together for a long minute, and then Dax ushered me into the building. Once the shouts of the paparazzi had been muted by a closed door, I faced him, locking my knees so I wouldn’t crumple at the sight of his face. Tanned skin and dark eyebrows set off those mysterious eyes of his, complicated colors that swirled inside his stare. Centered between a strong nose and jaw, his mouth was full and wide, the corners usually turning down slightly despite a seam that went straight across.
But right now those corners were pointing toward his cheekbones, showing a flash of white teeth. A smile entirely directed at me, filled with a warmth that penetrated to my bones, completely overshadowing my body’s automatic response at the mention of Jack Lester. “You still with me?” Dax asked.
I pulled myself away from my thoughts and blinked up at Dax’s concerned expression. “Yes, sorry. I forgot how obnoxious the paparazzi can be. There’s no question they won’t ask.”
“You can’t let them get under your skin.”
“I know. But…”
“But what?”
“When it feels like everyone is saying you don’t deserve to be here, it’s almost impossible not to wonder if they’re right.” Not about Jack Lester, of course. I knew exactly where I stood on that front. But when it came to Dax…Was I really worthy of sharing the stage with him? How could I open for Nothing but Trouble when my only experience was singing on a TV show?
Dax’s brows pushed together, making a vertical indent above his nose. “There’s always going to be talk, but you have to tune it out. Because none of it matters. You have the most beautifully soulful voice I’ve ever heard, Verity. That’s all the reason you need.”
My breath caught in the back of my throat, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe at all. “You didn’t always think that. Admit it.”
“I was wrong.”
Again I found myself surprised by what had come from Dax’s mouth. “A man who can admit when he’s wrong. I’m impressed.”
He gave a wry smile, sadness swirling inside his eyes. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Might as well own up to ’em.”
I bobbed my neck in a shaky nod. “Yeah. Me too.” Right then I wished we were someplace else, anywhere else. The charged air between us was vibrating with unspoken secrets. Secrets that might feel a little less burdensome if we dared to share them. A question I didn’t intend to ask slipped past my lips. “How about the last time we saw each other…? Was that a mistake?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
I swallowed heavily. “What we did, or what we didn’t do?”
“You tell me.”
“I—”
The door behind us opened. Jett stepped inside, looking from Dax to me. “If this fool doesn’t figure out how to seal the deal, you come find me, Verity.”
Dax offered a good-natured “Fuck off” as Jett walked away. But the brief moment of introspection we had shared was over. He offered his elbow and we joined the party.
Within minutes we had drinks in our hands and were surrounded by industry influencers whose support was vital to both our careers. “There you are.” Delaney suddenly materialized at my side, drawing me into a warm hug. “It’s so good to see a friendly face at these things.”
I returned her wide grin. “I feel the same way.”
She gave Dax a squeeze, too. “Would you mind rescuing Shane? He’s gotten drawn into a conversation with a radio station owner about the new FCC regulations, and I swear he might just fall asleep standing up.”
Dax’s lips twitched. “I can take a hint. I’ll leave you two alone.”
The second his back was turned, Delaney lowered her voice and leaned in close to me. “So…you and Dax?”
“No,” I whispered. “We just walked in together.”
She took a small sip from her wineglass, regarding me quizzically over the rim. “You were practically steaming up the window over here.”
; I was saved from answering when I spotted Travis across the room and he waved me over. Feeling relieved, I scurried away from Delaney and spent the next hour chatting with anyone Travis introduced me to. The man seemed to know the name and business interests of everyone in the room.
I was several minutes in to a conversation about copyright and royalty concerns in today’s streaming-driven industry when I spotted Piper on the terrace. Something about her stance, both hands gripping the railing, shoulders hunched over, made me want to check on her. Extricating myself, I slipped outside. “Thought I’d join you out here for a bit. You okay?”
“Just taking in the view.” Her voice sounded strangled, and she wiped at her eyes before looking at me.
“What’s wrong?” Piper was always so put together, so polished, catching her with wet lashes felt like an intrusion.
She sniffed, tucking an errant blond strand behind her ear. “Nothing. Hormones.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. And you shouldn’t be out here worrying about me. This is your big night.”
I glanced back at the room filled with strangers, spotting Dax talking to a stunning brunette in a bright red dress. I knew Dax wasn’t mine, but my stomach clenched anyway. “Is it over yet?” I asked.
Piper choked out a laugh. “Has Travis made his speech?”
“No.”
“Then it’s not over.” She looked back through the windows, squinting slightly. “But I think we’re almost there. Come on.”
I followed her back inside to find Travis standing in the corner of the room, on a raised platform where a DJ had been playing Nothing but Trouble songs interspersed with remixed versions of the ones I’d recorded for The Show, edited to be less “teen queen” and more “pop princess with a hint of rebellious rock chick.” And, of course, the song I’d recorded with Dax.
“…we’re thrilled to have everyone here, celebrating the upcoming tour with rock’s hottest band and pop’s most intriguing new talent. The Nothing but Trouble/Verity Moore tour is a once-in-a-generation opportunity. We’re not going to have any live performances tonight, but I’d like us to recognize the men and woman who have made tonight possible. Verity Moore, Shane Hawthorne, Dax Hughes, Jett Evans, and of course, Landon Cox—who couldn’t join us tonight but will be back from a long-planned vacation well before the tour kicks off.”
After the applause and whispered speculation about Landon’s whereabouts died down, I was swept up in more conversations with people I didn’t know, moving through the crowd like dry seaweed pushed along the beach by a hot ocean breeze. At one point I caught Piper trying to hide an enormous yawn. It didn’t take much for Delaney and me to convince her to go home.
No matter where I was or who I was talking to, I never lost sight of Dax. He’d managed to escape the brunette who had clung to his side for quite a while. One of the tallest men in the room, Dax pulled my gaze like a magnet with his dark, glossy mane. It was almost embarrassing, how many times he caught me staring at him. At least, it would have been—if I hadn’t caught him doing the same thing to me.
The man was charming and charismatic, whether he was speaking to the wife of an industry executive who’d had a few too many cocktails or a journalist trying to convince him to give an exclusive interview.
All the while, everything I’d been feeling—relief, desire, joy—had been building and blending. By the time Dax had maneuvered us into a quiet corner, I was near to bursting.
“Who knew you could be such a charmer?” I said softly.
A low chuckle rumbled from Dax’s throat, those green-gold eyes sweeping over my body. I flushed beneath his appreciative perusal, my nipples furling in pleasure and pushing against the beaded fabric of my dress. The designer creation was fun and flirty, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had Dax in mind when I’d agreed to wear it tonight.
Starting at my bare shoulders, he took in the low V of my white dress, which didn’t allow for a bra, then the rows of tiny pleats that ended at midthigh, before continuing to my strappy silver heels. He repeated the process in reverse, his eyes finally coming back to my face, lips wearing a sexy grin. “You haven’t made it easy. In fact, you’ve made it damned near impossible to look at anyone but you.”
“You clean up pretty well yourself.” I wasn’t going to get any points for originality, but as least I managed to speak at all. The way Dax was looking at me, as if he wanted to pull me into the nearest closet and tear my dress right off me, had me feeling tongue-tied and practically paralyzed with lust.
Dax was wearing a suit with no tie, his crisp white shirt open at the neck, dark hair just the right amount of shaggy, chiseled jawline shadowed from stubble. Looking much more comfortable in his skin than he had the night we first met in New York.
I wanted to borrow some of his confidence. A part of me was expecting someone to tap me on the shoulder and escort me out the door. Tell me that I didn’t deserve to be here.
“Did you come to rescue me again?” I asked, only half kidding. There was no jerk cornering me, but I’d run out of small talk an hour ago and the evening had become tedious.
“Maybe it’s your turn for that.” His voice was a gritted rasp, like the admission took effort.
I titled my head to the side, staring into Dax’s eyes. “I didn’t know bad-boy rockers needed rescuing.”
He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before lifting his lashes once again and staring at me with a renewed sense of urgency. “That makes two of us.”
A tremble shook my spine, goose bumps breaking out on my skin. There was a beat of silence, and the song changed, Dax’s soulful guitar riffs pooling in my ears like the sweetest honey. Our song. He lifted his hands. “May I have this dance?”
I stepped into Dax’s arms, feeling like I was floating on air as my palms slid up his shirt to wrap around his neck, his hands gently riding my hips. “Sing to me,” he whispered in my ear.
I pulled back just enough to look him in the face. “I am singing.”
He shook his head. “No, not through the speakers. Now.”
A wave of something—infatuation, desire, happiness—smashed into me. I wobbled on my feet, Dax steadying me with a smile.
And even though my recorded voice was perfectly audible in the small vestibule between the coatroom and restrooms, I raised my chin and opened my mouth. Singing along to my own track.
Long time ago,
Someone picked me
Painted me
Dressed me up and shamed me
Turned me into a bombshell
Every time I sang the words, I was amazed that someone had written a song so perfectly tailored to me. I’d been so absorbed by my own reaction, it hadn’t occurred to me that anyone would read into the lyrics and assume that “someone” was Jack Lester.
But it should have.
I’d asked Travis to put me in touch with the songwriter. He said he’d “look into it and get back to me.” Code for at-the-bottom-of-my-priority-list, don’t-hold-your-breath.
I’m a shell
Cracked and broken
The truth has spoken
My heart is beating, needing
I’m no bombshell
Look and listen
Watch me rebel
The powerful lyrics fortified me as the music wrapped around us, lifting us up, pushing us together. A world made up of his guitar and my voice coming through an overhead speaker, his voice and mine mingling in real time. Our two hearts pulsing to the same beat.
“Bombshell Rebel” wasn’t about my mother. And it wasn’t about Jack. The song was about me. And I was done letting anyone else ruin another minute of my life.
Dax joined in, crooning the words as he stared straight into my eyes.
I wanted the song to last forever.
It didn’t though. Three minutes and twenty-three seconds was exactly what we got.
And when the last note trailed off, in the suspended moment when there was only silence, Dax dipped his he
ad and took a quick breath, inhaled oxygen whispering along my cheek as it entered his mouth.
Breathing me in.
This man could swallow me whole. Consume me. Own me.
And I might just let him.
All the parts of me that had tried so hard to resist the man in front of me finally gave up the fight. I was a rose at dawn, preening beneath the sun’s rays.
“Will you take me home?”
Chapter Sixteen
Dax
There was a chaotic storm churning between Verity and me. A wildness that had grown bigger and more inevitable over the course of tonight’s elegant event. Even though I knew we would only end in disaster, I wanted to bask in the warmth of Verity’s smile, savor her sweet scent, rejoice at the desire shining from her eyes.
“Fuck yeah.”
We didn’t bother with goodbyes. I caught the eye of a man with a jawbone microphone at his ear, and he muttered something into it. By the time we got to the door, my driver had pulled up out front. There were still a few paparazzi outside, their cameras flashing like crazy. They knew the gossip rags would be shitting all over themselves for pictures of Verity and me leaving together.
Well, they were in luck because I wasn’t forfeiting a single minute with her tonight.
Sliding in after Verity, I was engulfed in the scent that was so intrinsic to her. Vanilla and cloves. The girl was practically edible.
The car pulled away from the curb. I shrugged out of my jacket and shifted on the bench seat, drinking her in like a glass of water after a day in the desert.
So goddamn tempting. Every part of her. Her face with its symmetrical features and creamy skin. Her long legs, tiny waist, and lush cleavage. Her voice that didn’t need any accompaniment at all. Verity’s looks were a lure on their own, but I was most attracted to the little glimpses of a woman who had seen the worst of too many people but was still willing to take chances. To take a chance on me.
