The Baby and the Rock Star (Rock Star Kisses Book 2)

by Veronica Blade

  “Like what? Tell them I worked out today, or what I bought at the grocery store? Boring crap like that? Or I could invite them in, show them a picture of a motorcycle I like or tell them how I made dinner for a beautiful woman.”

  “Stop.” She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “You’re getting off track.”

  I peeled her fingers from her face. “Hey, I won’t screw it up. I promise.”

  Before I had a chance to think better of it, my fingers had already tangled with hers. I let my thumb take control for an instant and brush across her soft skin. “I’m not going to screw it up,” I repeated. “Those days are over.”

  She disentangled herself from me, then grabbed the cup and brought it to her lips with both hands. “This cappuccino is unbelievable. Perfect.” Her lids fluttered as she savored another swallow. “They say the craving for alcohol never goes away, that you’re always in danger of slipping.”

  “For some people, it’s a daily struggle to stay sober, I suppose. Not for me.” I started the faucet to get the water hot.

  “What makes you different?” She took another slurp from the rim of the mug, peering up at me from under her lashes.

  “Because I don’t crave it, never did. I don’t even like the taste. I just used it as a temporary blinder to put me in a place where I didn’t have to care about anything.” I turned around and rinsed the dishes, then loaded them in the dishwasher. “Now that I’m clean, I just can’t seem to work up the desire to kill brain cells again.”

  Violet moved to my side and into my line of vision, wrinkling her nose. “Are you sure you’re not just in denial? That you’re not going to lose it one day and hit the bottle?”

  I laughed. “Positive.”

  She chewed her bottom lip, glancing away. “Well, thanks for dinner. I should probably go.”

  I shrugged, trying not to care. “I was going to work on the interview questions for Alternative Magazine. Sure you don’t want to backseat drive me on that?”

  Her mouth curved up. “Of course I want to. But I have internet, you know. You can send it to me before you email it to them.”

  “Where’s the fun in that? You have something better to do?” I smiled and waited a beat. “Want me to microwave some popcorn?”

  “Look, Sebastian…”

  Oh, here it comes. “What?”

  “What’s your deal?” She worried her lip again, making me want to nibble on it, too. “Why am I here?”

  I grinned and reached into the cupboard to grab a bag of popcorn. I stuffed it into the microwave and hit the Popcorn button. “Because I don’t like you.”

  She did her best to hide her grin as she slid onto the stool at the counter. “Okay, while you’re not liking me, melt some butter for that, would you?”

  “Sure thing.” I grabbed a saucepan and dropped a cube in it, my heart skipping a beat as I turned the heat to low. “By the way, studies show that if you exercise, like take daily walks, and up your water intake, you can raise your energy level. Might not tire out so quickly.” I snuck a peek at her and wondered if I’d gone too far.

  She froze, then swallowed, her eyes watering. “Uhm…”

  “What?” I shuffled over to stand on the other side of the counter. “Should I not give sound advice, something that might help you?” Loud pops sounded from inside the microwave but I ignored it, my attention fixed on Violet’s reaction.

  Violet shook her head. “No. I’m just not totally comfortable when you’re all nice and everything.”

  “Well, then.” I wagged a finger at her. “No popcorn for you. Sorry.” I found a big bowl and set it in front of the microwave, then turned off the burner under the butter.

  She chuckled. “You like cooking?”

  “I enjoy creating music above anything, but I love eating good food. When I gave up drugs and alcohol, I had this powerful urge to quit everything else bad and, for me, that includes most restaurant food. I work out nearly every day for at least an hour, usually more. It would be stupid if I went through all that effort, then put garbage food in my body.” The tiny explosions in the microwave stopped almost completely and I retrieved the bag, careful to not get burned. I cut the top and poured it into the bowl, then drizzled the butter over it and sprinkled in salt.

  She dove for the popcorn as soon as I set it in front of her. “But somehow popcorn made the cut for this new, all-healthy way of life?”

  I laughed. “I’m not a fanatic. I eat healthy when I can, but every now and then I want something junky. Fortunately for us both, this popcorn is organic.”

  “You know, aside from that lunch with my dad, I think that was the first decent meal I’ve had in a while.” She tossed a single popcorn into her mouth, eyeing me. “That was sweet of you to manipulate me. Thank you.”

  She’d nailed me. But she didn’t seem upset about it. “My pleasure. Except that I really was hungry. Good timing on your part.”

  Violet yawned and her eyelids drooped slightly. I needed to let her go, at least for tonight. On the upside, since we didn’t get a chance to work on the interview today, I could use it as an excuse when I lured her over tomorrow.

  Several minutes later, I walked Violet to her car, but I lagged behind, knowing if I got any closer, I’d want to kiss her. I didn’t want to spook her. She arrived in front of the Lexus door and abruptly turned. “You know, I dislike you more today than I did yesterday,” she said.

  “Keep this up and I’ll downright hate you by next week.” I gave her a half laugh.

  One side of her mouth curled up and she waved before climbing into her car and driving away.

  Damn. Though I was fully aware that I couldn’t be in love with Violet, it sure felt like I was well on my way to getting there. What was it about this girl that made me want to take care of her—and then toss her on the bed and show her how much I wanted her?

  Chapter Ten

  Sebastian

  My hands clamped around the pole on the salmon ladder. I swung my legs to build momentum, then I jumped the pole onto the next rung. And then I moved it up three more rungs. As I was putting away the pole, my phone pinged. My heart rate picked up, hoping it was Violet. But I wasn’t going to quit my exercise routine in hopes that she had texted me. The moment I dropped everything for a girl was the moment I was whipped. And I refused to be whipped by a girl who I seriously doubted was genuinely interested in me. Okay, so she’d kissed me the other day. But then she’d put the brakes on. So why should I jump every time my cell phone alerted me of a text?

  I wiped the sweat off my hands and eyed my phone sitting on the shelf just two yards away. And then suddenly, I was holding my phone and typing in the password Violet had insisted I lock my phone with.

  Ah, hell. I was whipped.

  But it wasn’t Violet texting me. It was Liam saying he loved the lyrics I’d emailed him. I shot off a quick reply and got on the treadmill, wondering what I’d make for dinner later.

  What the hell was wrong with me, chasing after a woman who was pregnant with another man’s child? I was seriously and severely mentally challenged. With my luck, she’d resolve things with the father and end up marrying him. I’d be the dumbass wanting what I could never have, what I should never have tried for in the first place.

  Yet I had to try.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Violet had been so bitchy when we’d first started this project. But she wasn’t like that at all anymore. I had no idea what changed or why. All I knew was how I felt when I was around her. When she was near, all my past failures fell away. When I was with her, I felt hope that I could be happy again one day. Maybe. I didn’t think about my horrible parents or how much I missed my sister. I just felt good. And I wanted more of that.

  I finished running four miles on the treadmill and grabbed a towel. As I patted my neck and chest, my phone taunted me. I stared at it another minute, then gave up and made a beeline for it, finding Violet’s text thread and added, Come over and help me with the int
erview? There’s some creamy Cajun chicken pasta in it for you.

  I tapped the phone against the ball of my hand, too antsy to do anything else. A minute passed and still no return text. Damn it. I was a moron. Shouldn’t have pushed. I tossed my cell onto the sofa on my way to the fridge for some ice-cold water. Just as I started filling the glass, my phone dinged from the other room. I slammed down the cup and rocketed to my phone.

  What time? Violet asked.

  My face split with a huge grin. Six o’clock?

  I need to be home early. Make it five and it’s a deal.

  Great. See you then. Yes! I fist-pumped and chucked my phone back onto the sofa. I had two hours to make a mouth-watering creamy Cajun chicken pasta. And a salad, of course. The baby needed vegetables.

  But Violet’s stomach probably didn’t need unnecessary aggravation. I should go lighter on the spices, and make up for it in cheese.

  I jogged into the kitchen and got out my spices: white pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, cayenne pepper, paprika and black pepper. Then I took out some butter to soften for the garlic bread.

  An hour and forty-five minutes later, I had showered and dinner was nearly ready. After I set out my laptop with my interview questions open on the screen, I texted her with Door’s unlocked and then I set the table. I cut the french bread and slathered the slices with garlic butter, then laid them on a cookie tray and preheated the oven. As I drained the noodles, the door creaked open.

  “Sebastian?”

  “In the kitchen,” I shouted.

  She came into view, her nose in the air. “Dear God. That smells incredible. You’re ruining me, you know.”

  My mouth almost dropped open. She’d put makeup on and the green in her eyes popped against the pink in her sweater. “Can’t go wrong with getting used to good, healthy food. Hungry?”

  She rested her elbows on the counter bar. “I am now. You know, if that tastes as good as it smells, I’m really not going to like you.”

  I leaned over the counter, slipped my fingers behind her neck and made sure I had her attention before saying, “I’m liking you less and less by the minute.”

  She blinked and I was pretty sure she was holding her breath. Probably wondering if I was going to attempt another kiss. Well, I totally planned that in the near future, but not yet. I’d see if I could get her to initiate our next kiss. I spun around and slid the garlic bread into the broiler. “Give it three or four minutes and we’re good to go.”

  “If food wasn’t going to be ready until five-oh-five, why did you tell me to be here at five?” She rolled her eyes. “Geez, you really make a girl work for it.”

  I didn’t bother hiding my smile. “So you’re workin’ it for me, are you?”

  Violet tapped her bottom lip. “Hm. Trick question. If I answer no, I might not get fed. If I answer yes, that’ll get me into more trouble than starvation. I’m going to take the fifth.”

  “That’ll have to do.” I liked her new attitude with me and was beginning to think this was the real Violet. Which led me to… “So, I have to ask. Why were you so mad at me when we first started this project?”

  The light went out of her eyes and I immediately regretted bringing it up. “Let’s just say that I thought you were someone else. But I’m beginning to see that you’re not that person at all.”

  “That’s a relief. Maybe one day you’ll trust me enough tell me about that person you thought I was, and why.” I watched her fidget and knew I had to drop it. “Until then, it’s time to eat. Go sit and I’ll bring it to you.”

  Her smile returned and she moved to the dining room table. I pulled the garlic bread from the broiler, served up the chicken Cajun pasta, gave her a generous portion of salad and tossed a piece of garlic bread on her plate, then set it in front of her. Her eyes sparkled and my insides warmed knowing my food put that glow on her face. I wanted to feed her and the baby every single day. Especially since I didn’t have many better things to do until Full Throttle started touring again.

  I fixed my own plate and sat across from her. “What made you decide to get into public relations?”

  “I like shaping someone’s image and helping them with their career.” A forkful of pasta hovered near her mouth. “Though I don’t particularly like celebrities—no offense—I like the business. And I’m really good at it, manipulating the media and all that. I kind of geek out on that kind of thing.”

  “No other passions? You’re not a closet actress or anything?”

  She laughed. “Hell, no. I’m not very artistic in that way. I’m better at figuring things out, solving problems.” She loaded up her fork again. “By the way, the extra water I drank and the power walk this morning helped. Not as energetic as before the baby came along, but it’s definitely better.”

  “That’s great. And the nausea?” I shoved a bite of pasta in my mouth.

  “Better, thanks. It seems to be settling down a bit.” Violet darted glances at me while she swirled the fork in her pasta mound. “I’m curious. Did you go to college or anything or did you skip all that in favor of your music?”

  “College wasn’t an option, not really.” I stared down at my plate, suddenly no longer hungry. “My parents didn’t have the money for tuition, or so they claimed, and my grades weren’t good enough for a scholarship. I spent most of high school too stressed out, hoping I wasn’t going to get my ass beat that day, while praying it would be me and not my sister, India.”

  She was silent a long moment as she broke off a piece of garlic bread. “What did you do instead of college?”

  “I became a short order cook.” I waved a hand between my plate and hers. “That’s where I got some of my mad skills. I’ve been experimenting ever since.”

  “Ever thought about opening your own restaurant? Because this is really good.” She closed her eyes. “I mean, seriously. I’d totally eat at your restaurant. Probably every day.”

  I laughed. “Maybe up the road. Right now, it’s all about my music career. It’ll always be my first love.”

  Her fingers stilled around the fork and I wondered what I’d said wrong. “Always? Like, over wife and family?”

  I scoffed, digging into my food again. “Of course not. If I had a kid…” And that possibility was quite real, since I had so little memory of one or two of drinking binges. “He or she would be my number one priority. And my wife, of course.”

  She speared a few pieces of baby lettuce and a cherry tomato, then met my gaze again. “So you actually want to get married one day?” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m asking. It’s just that you’re, what, twenty-five? Most guys your age aren’t interested in being in a serious relationship.”

  My stomach full, I nudged my plate aside. “I’ve crammed a lot into these last three years and I’m done with relationships that go nowhere. I have a future now. For the first time in my life, I realize that and I don’t want to do it alone. Especially when I see how happy Liam and Emma are. Makes me want that too.”

  For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why her eyes were pooling. Had I said something wrong again? “You okay?”

  “Yes. Dinner was wonderful.” Her smile was a bit too bright, but I didn’t want to push. “We should probably get started on that interview. I guess you never know when I’m going to get tired and need to go.”

  Great, she’d shut down again. But at least she hadn’t gone back to being mean. “Hey, whatever I said to upset you, I’m sorry.”

  Her eyes turned on like a faucet and I could’ve have punched myself. Why did I have to open my mouth again?

  She gave a watery laugh. “It’s not you, I promise. It’s the stupid hormones. I’m pretty sure I’m at an all-time high on crazy.”

  My shoulders loosened and I cleared our plates from the table. “Faith was on the emotional rollercoaster for a few months. Not everyone is the same though. Could be less for you.”

  She opened her mouth to talk, but the front door creaked.

&nbs
p; “Sebastian?”

  What was Liam doing here? I deposited the plates on the counter and made my way to the living room to see Liam holding hands with Emma, his fiancée. His free arm held Emma’s daughter, Scarlet. Liam’s sister Faith was with them, her son Xander attached to her hip.

  “What brings you guys here?” I asked, drying my hands on the kitchen towel.

  “Hadn’t heard much from you the last few days,” Liam said, glancing at Emma, then his sister. “Thought we’d pass by on our way to dinner and check up on you.”

  Sebastian shrugged. “Works for me. Everyone know Violet?”

  “Violet, so nice to finally meet you.” Emma ambushed her into a warm hug. “You did wonders for Liam’s rep.”

  “The media hasn’t been joking about me being Saint Nick, so I’m happy.” Liam bent forward and bussed Violet’s cheek. “What are you doing hanging out with this bozo after business hours?”

  She flashed him a mischievous smile. “I’m just in it for the food.”

  Faith chuckled and pulled Violet into a hug. “Good to see you again. We need to hang after you’re done fixing up Sebastian.”

  “I’d love to.” Violet motioned toward the dining room chairs. “Did you guys want to sit? You might get lucky and Sebastian will feed you.”

  If Liam and Emma stayed, maybe Violet would also stay and hang out with us. I’d get more time with her. And if we didn’t get to the interview tonight, I could probably talk her into coming over tomorrow. I’d get another day with her. “You can get food here a hell of a lot faster than if you drive somewhere, order and then wait. I have plenty of chicken and sauce. Just have to cook up more noodles.”

  “As if I’d say no to your cooking.” Liam punched Sebastian in the arm.

  Xander screeched and Faith sprung from her chair. “Mind if I get the emergency toys?”

  “That’s why I bought them.” I filled up the pan to boil the noodles and listened to my guests chatter. While Violet filled Liam in on the progress of her program, Faith and Emma kept the kids occupied. And my heart sang because Violet was still there. Yep, whipped. Totally.