I wonder what he’s got under his clothes. He’s typically shirtless in publicity shots, so I know he has sleeves on his arms, a tat across his chest, stars on his hips, but I’d love to see under his pants.
I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and force the shirtless image out of my head just as he lowers the jack and gathers my tools and replaces them in the trunk with the flat tire.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” I offer him a half smile and then laugh out loud when he scowls at me.
“Sam, I’m not about to leave you here at the side of the road by yourself to change a tire in the rain. Your brother would put his foot up my ass.”
Of course. He’s only being nice because of Luke. Just like everyone else.
I systematically school my features into a blank canvas, straighten my shoulders and put the walls back up.
People can’t hurt me if I don’t let them.
“You’re probably right.” I back away and move to walk around the white car to climb inside and escape. “I’ll be sure to tell him you were a big help. Thank you.”
“What the fuck just happened?” His eyes are narrowed on my face, his thumbs tucked in the loops of his jeans.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. You’d loosened up a bit, and then suddenly you turned back into the ice queen.”
I’m not an ice queen! I’m a fucking human being, but I’ll never let you or people like you see me as vulnerable ever again!
“Have a good day, Leo.”
“Hey.” He blocks my path to the driver’s door and tips my chin up so I have to look him in the eye. “What did I say?”
I shake my head and back away, needing the space. God, he’s like an effing magnet.
He watches me closely for a moment and then shrugs. “Okay. Drive safe. Take that in to the shop tomorrow.” He walks back to his car, lowers himself gracefully behind the wheel and waits for me to drive off ahead of him.
Who knew that a rock star as famous as he is could be a gentleman?
Weird.
I offer him a wave and drive away, exhaling for the first time in thirty minutes. That is one sexually potent man. No wonder he’s so damn famous.
And I am never going down that path again.
***
Olivia is perhaps the most perfect baby ever born, and she gets all her charm, intelligence and good looks from her Auntie Sammie.
And no one else on the face of the earth had better ever call me Sammie.
I’m not usually one to cuddle babies, but oh how I adore this little girl. We are all gathered at my mom and dad’s house, and by all, I mean the whole crew. All of the Montgomerys are here, along with their kids. Also, Luke, Nat and Livie, as well as my youngest brother, Mark. Even Brynna is here with her girls.
Will has tugged Meg into his lap on the couch, and they’re laughing intimately. He glances up at me and winks, and I feel a glow in the pit of my stomach. To think that two years ago family dinners consisted of just the five of us. How boring! Now we have this beautiful extended family. I wouldn’t change a thing, even if it did cost me my job last week.
“Livie, you’re the most beautiful girl in the room. Yes, you are.” The sweet nine-month-old giggles as I blow raspberries on her neck and clutches my hair in her tiny fist. “Uh oh…let go of my hair, sweetie.”
She giggles some more and tugs my blond strands into her mouth. “Ew. Do you know how much product is in my hair, girlfriend? It’s definitely not edible.”
“Everything is going in her mouth these days,” Nat mutters and sits next to me on the floor. Our backs are resting against the love seat. “She’s also slobbering like it’s going out of style. I think she’s cutting more teeth.”
As if on cue, Livie offers us a big grin, proudly showing us her four front teeth, and we laugh at her.
“She’s so sweet.” I kiss her cheek.
“Yeah, she is.” Nat’s green eyes shine as she looks from her daughter to me. “I hope the next one is, too,” she whispers.
What? I gasp and almost drop the baby. “You’re not…” I whisper back to her, and she offers me a small smile and a tiny nod, and then smiles lovingly over at Luke, who has been watching us.
“When are you going to announce it?” I ask. Another baby!
“After dinner, I think,” she replies as Luke sits next to me on my other side and takes Livie from my arms.
“Hi, baby girl.” He kisses her forehead, and Livie lights up from the inside at seeing her daddy. “So, did she tell you?” he asks softly, so only I can hear.
“Yeah. Luke, I’m so happy for you.”
His soft blue eyes turn to mine, and I can read his thoughts. He waited so long for this kind of happiness. He deserves every smile, every wonderful moment his family brings him.
“Thank you,” he murmurs and kisses Liv’s head again. “I can’t wait anymore, baby.”
Natalie giggles. “Go ahead then.”
“Everyone, I have news.” Luke stands easily, the baby propped on his forearm, and addresses the room. Everyone gets quiet and turns their attention to him.
My gaze catches Leo’s from across the room. This is the first family event Meg has talked him into attending. I wonder how he’s coping.
He winks at me, but I can see tension around his eyes.
We are one overwhelming group, even if you’re used to big, loud families, and I know he isn’t.
My mom has already started to cry, anticipating what the news is. She’s right, as usual.
“Natalie and I”—he pulls on Nat’s hand so she’s tucked into his side—“are expecting again.”
“Holy shit!” Caleb exclaims first, and the room explodes with cheers and hugs.
“Jesus, what are you, a baby factory?” Jules asks with tears in her eyes as she jumps up to hug Nat. “This is what happens when you keep doing all that gross stuff.”
“Yeah, well, we want a lot of kids,” Natalie murmurs with a grin, her eyes happy.
Luke laughs at Jules and kisses Nat square-on, no-holds-barred, just for her benefit.
“Ew.” Jules scowls and backs away.
As everyone continues to celebrate the good news, I decide to slip out back and get a breath of fresh air.
I love them all, but they are seriously a lot to take in, and I spend ninety percent of my time alone, so the noise starts to get to me.
I grab a sweater from the mudroom and slip out onto the covered back porch, take a deep breath, and lean on the railing, looking out into the woods at the back of my parents’ property.
“You needed a break, too?”
***
~Leo~
“Holy shit!” She jumps and spins to look up at me, hand pressed against her chest, bright blue eyes wide, and I have to grip the railing to keep myself from crossing to her and kissing the hell out of her.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” I smile at her and watch the dialogue of decisions running through that sexy head of hers. Should she smile? Scowl? Straighten those shoulders?
I would love to try to knock that chip off her shoulder.
“I just needed a minute away from the noise.” She swallows and looks back out at the trees. “Are you having fun?”
I smirk and cross my arms over my chest. “You have a great family, but it’s a lot of activity for me.”
“You’re used to fifty thousand screaming fans in one room, Leo. I can’t imagine this is too much activity for you.”
“That’s different. It’s my job.” It’s my life.
“Well, this group is a lot to handle. Especially at one time.” She smiles softly at me and then seems to remember to gather herself and look away.
Interesting.
“Meg wanted me to come, so here I am.” It’s the truth, and I’d do it again. Meg belongs to this family now, so I’ll do what I can to fit in and make her happy.
Aside from my band, Meg-Pie is my only family.
“That was nice of yo
u.” She sneers over the word nice, and I can’t help but laugh outright and cross to her.
“Believe it or not, doll, I can be nice.”
She shrugs and watches my hands as I grip the railing again. She watched my hands the other day, too, and I can’t help but wonder if the tats turn her on, or turn her off.
There is usually no middle ground there, and I don’t give a fuck either way.
She takes a deep, shaky breath and looks up into my face, her eyes a little brighter and pink lips slightly parted. Definitely turned on.
I can work with this.
I lift my hand to her cheek, but she flinches, and I can’t help the surge of pure anger at her reaction. Who the fuck put that in her?
“Easy.” I pull some lint out of her hair and show it to her before letting it drop to the ground.
“Sorry,” she whispers.
“So, what do you do for fun?” I ask.
“Why?” she asks, her eyes narrowed.
“Because I don’t know you very well, and we’re sharing a porch, so we might as well have a conversation.” God, she’s so cold.
What would it take to warm her up?
“I run.” She shrugs.
“Run?” I ask.
“Yes, you know, where you put on sneakers and move quickly in a forward motion?”
She’s fucking adorable when she’s being sarcastic. She has a great, raspy voice, lower for a woman. She’s not squeaky at all. I can’t imagine her ever yelling, “Wooot!” when she’s drunk.
Her voice is fucking amazing.
“I do understand the concept, yes, but what kind of running do you do?”
“Marathons.”
My eyes travel down her small, firm body. She’s skinnier than I usually like, but she’s toned. I remember how her slim arms felt in my hands the other day and how light she was to pull to her feet.
She loves to run.
So do I.
Maybe we have stuff in common after all. I wonder what kind of music she listens to.
“How long have you been running marathons?” I ask and motion for her to sit beside me on the stairs.
“Since high school. I ran track, and there are some great marathons here in Seattle throughout the year.”
“I know, I’ve run in some of them.” I nod and lean back on my elbows.
“You run, too?” Her eyes are wide and happy, and I see those walls slowly begin to come down.
“When I find time, yeah. I prefer running outside, but when we’re on tour I have to take advantage of the hotel gyms.”
“I run outside, too. Running on a treadmill is not the same thing.” She nods and offers me a half smile, and my breath leaves me. Samantha Williams is beautiful, with her light blond hair and big blue eyes, but when she smiles, she could make the gods weep.
I might have to write a song about her smile.
“I usually run in the mornings before the city wakes up,” she adds, and I frown down at her.
“Where do you live?” I ask.
“Downtown,” she replies vaguely.
“Downtown in which city?” I ask with growing impatience.
“Seattle,” she responds and scowls at me. “Why?”
I have to take a deep breath before I yell at her. “Do you mean to tell me that you run in downtown Seattle in the early morning? Do you have a partner?”
“Yes, I run in the early morning. Alone.”
I shake my head and run my hands down my face, trying to push down this sudden need to protect this little spitfire.
“That’s dangerous,” I mutter.
“What, are you gonna be my bodyguard, Mr. Famous Rock Star?” she asks, her voice heavy with sarcasm, and I can’t help but laugh at her. She’s funny and smart.
“Actually, yeah, I think I will.” Well, that wipes the smirk off her face, and she flounders for a second, her mouth dropping open and then closing. She’s not sure what to say, until finally she pulls herself together and eyes me warily.
“Sure. Okay, you wanna run with me, that’s fine. But I won’t slow my pace for you, just so you know. You’ll have to keep up.”
“Okay.” I smile at her softly and inch closer to her.
“I usually run at six a.m., but…” She loses her train of thought as her eyes settle on my lips, on my piercing. Yeah, she likes the tats and the metal.
And I like her. A lot.
“But?” I prompt her.
“Huh?” She looks up into my eyes and then clears her throat, and I can’t stop the wide grin on my face as her cheeks redden. “But since I don’t have to be at work anymore, I figured I’d run at about seven. Is that too early for you? I figure you probably go to bed around that time.”
“No, I’m a morning person.” I run my finger down her cheek, happy that this time she leans into me rather than flinch. “I’ll be at your place at seven. Text me your address.”
“I don’t have your number,” she whispers.
“I have yours,” I murmur. “I’ll text you so you have mine.”
“Why do you have my number?” Her eyes are back on my mouth now, our breathing ragged.
“I asked Meg for it. I was going to call you to check on your car.”
“Oh.”
She licks her lips, and I can’t stand it anymore. I cup her smooth neck in my hand, my thumb firmly planted on her chin, and nibble the side of her mouth, sweep across those plump, pink lips and nibble the other side and wonder if the lips of her pussy are this pink.
She sighs with a low moan as I sink into her, persuading her mouth open with my tongue, and enjoy her. She’s sexy sunshine, and I soak her in, enjoying every breath, every tentative flick of her tongue against mine.
She grips on to my hips, anchoring herself against me, and I wrap my other arm around the small of her back, pulling her tightly against me.
Her nipples pucker against my chest, and I grin as I slow the kiss down, rub my nose on hers, and kiss her forehead, still holding her.
“What was that?” she whispers.
“If you have to ask, I didn’t do it right.”
She chuckles, leans her forehead against my sternum and then leans back to look up at me.
She’s so small.
“You know what I mean.”
I shrug, suddenly uncomfortable. All the men just inside the house would kick my ass if they saw me holding her, kissing the shit out of her, and I couldn’t blame them.
But I can’t seem to stay away from her.
“You’re kissable.”
“There you are!”
We jump apart guiltily at the sound of Meg’s voice in the doorway. She’s smiling happily, not at all angry for finding me in a compromising position with her friend, and I exhale in relief.
“Dinner’s ready,” Meg tells us.
“Good, I’m starving.” I wink at Sam, enjoying the blush on her cheeks. “Seven tomorrow.”
“Seven,” she murmurs as I saunter inside, looking forward to tomorrow.
Chapter Two
~Samantha~
I plug my earphones into my ears, cue up the playlist that I’ve titled Sweat on my iPhone and tuck it into my bra, pin my condo key in there as well so it doesn’t fall through my cleavage, and pull my front door closed behind me. I’m in black yoga pants, a pink tank and a light pink hoodie to ward off the chilly Seattle winter day. I’ve already stretched, so it’s time to run and clear my head.
As I jog down the stairs, rather than take the elevator, I can’t help but think of Leo. I knew he wouldn’t show up this morning to run. Who the hell was he kidding last night? And what in the name of Moses was up with him kissing me like that?
It’s best if I just forget all about that kiss and focus on finding a job.
I jog through the lobby of my building and wave at Frank the doorman, turn left on the sidewalk and set out, Adam Levine’s smooth voice heavy in my ears, asking me to give him one more night.
No problem, Adam.
Suddenly, there
’s movement on my right, and I startle. My heart climbs into my throat, and I let out a yelp and stumble. Strong hands grip my upper arms, keeping me upright, and I look up into humor-filled gray eyes.
“What the hell?” I stammer and pull the earphones out of my ears.
“I told you I’d meet you this morning.”
“I didn’t think you’d show.” I resume running, tucking my ear buds in my bra.
“Interesting storage system you have there,” Leo remarks with a grin, blatantly looking down at my breasts, and I can’t help but laugh with him.
“I can’t carry a purse while I run.” I shrug and look at him out of the corner of my eye. Really? Does he have to look this good at seven in the damn morning?
He’s much taller than my five-foot-two. At least a foot taller. He’s in basketball shorts and sneakers and a black long-sleeved T-shirt under a red short-sleeved T-shirt. I’m a little disappointed that only the tats on his hands are visible.
I’d like to trace his tattoos, with my fingers and my tongue.
Enough!
We run in silence for about four blocks.
“Do you want to know how far I’m going?” I ask him, pleased that I’m barely panting.
“Doesn’t matter,” he responds. He’s also barely panting.
Well, hell.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I’ll run as far as you want.”
“Okay.” I smirk and pick up my pace, my body warmed now and ready to just go. He easily matches my pace. I wouldn’t admit it to him right now, but it feels good to have someone next to me while I run. No one has ever been interested in running with me before. It does make me feel safer, even if we aren’t talking, just breathing and running side by side.
“You can plug your tunes back in if you want.” He smiles over at me.
“It’s okay.” I wave him off. I kind of like hearing him breathe.
“What were you listening to?”
“It was a Maroon5 song.” I smile at him. What is it about this guy that makes me feel so comfortable?
“Maroon5 fan?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Who’s your favorite band?” he asks with a curious grin.
Nash.
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