Until Easton

by Sandy Alvarez

  9

  EASTON

  The moment I walk through the door of the pizza shop, a rush of heat called jealousy runs through my veins. There, sitting in a booth with another guy's hand on top of hers, is my woman. And whatever the bonehead says is making her smile. She throws her head back in laughter, and my neck and shoulder muscles tighten. I'm pissed. Just as my feet move me forward, Becca's eyes lock with mine, and the smile on her beautiful face quickly fades.

  The guy sitting with her turns in his seat to see who is stealing Becca's undivided attention. I stop and glare at the asshole. "Who the fuck are you?" I grind my teeth and size him up.

  "Easton, wait—" Becca pauses as the dickhead with her stands and offers his hand.

  "I'm—" he goes to introduce himself, but I’m not interested in getting to know him.

  "She's mine," I growl.

  "Jesus. Easton. You plan on throwing me over your shoulder and carrying me out of here too?" Becca folds her arms beneath her breasts and cocks her head.

  "The thought crossed my mind," I admit.

  "Carter is an old friend," Becca says, exasperated. "Carter, I'd like you to meet Easton." Carter waits for me to shake his hand.

  I do my best to snuff out the anger still stewing inside. My focus shifts back to Becca. I reach for her and guide her up off her seat, pulling her to me. I kiss her. My lips laced with an apology for being a dick and making it clear to anyone watching she belongs to me. I pull away and look at her. "I'm sorry."

  Carter clears his throat. "Listen, I need to run."

  Becca breaks eye contact with me and looks at him. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be." He takes some cash from his wallet and drops it on the table. "It was good catching up with you, Becca." Then Carter looks at me. "Nice to meet you."

  "Same," I reply tightly.

  A few minutes of silence hang between Becca and me before she walks away, heading for the exit.

  "Babe." I fall beside her to open the door, and she steps outside. "Becca," I call out as she continues to walk down the sidewalk.

  "I need to get back to work, Easton."

  "Hey—hey." I take her by the hand, stopping her.

  Becca sighs. "Easton, what is this—what are we doing?"

  "I think we're having our first argument." I brush the red hair from her face.

  "Easton," Becca says softly. "Don’t you think we're moving a bit too fast?"

  "No." Becca tilts her face toward the sky, and the sun filters through her long lashes, casting tiny shadows on her skin when she closes her eyes. "Look at me, babe." I palm her face, running the pad of my thumb across the spattering of red freckles on the apple of her cheek. Becca opens her eyes and stares into mine. "Playing music and traveling the world feeds my soul, but I want more." Becca chews on her lower lip as I continue to open my heart and empty the contents into the palms of her hands. "You're it for me, Red. There is no doubt on my end where I stand." I take her hand, placing her palm against my chest to feel the rapid beating of my heart. "This is what you do to me." And I can tell by the rapid rise and fall of her chest that I have the same effect on her. "I always thought love at first sight, that your entire center of gravity would shift, was a bunch of poetic bullshit." I press my forehead against hers. "The BOOM is real," I whisper, and Becca smiles.

  "You've heard of that phenomenon, huh?"

  "I'm living it." I kiss her soft lips—slow at first before deepening it, and pour out what’s left of my confession until it leaves us both breathless.

  "Um—I should get back to work," Becca says but doesn't attempt to move.

  "Ask for the rest of the day off."

  She shakes her head. "I can't. We need the money."

  I look at her with understanding. "I can help, you know."

  "No. I can't let you do that. It's not your cross to bear."

  I lift her face to mine. "I want to take care of you."

  "I don't want your money, Easton."

  "That's not what I meant." I study her face, admiring her strength to do it all on her own. Money is something we can discuss another time, especially since I don't like seeing how hard she works and how much she struggles. Right now, all I want is to be with her. "Spend the rest of the day with me."

  Becca pauses a second in thought, then looks over her shoulder at the salon. "I'll go ask." She turns back to me. "You're crazy, you know that?"

  I smile like a fool in love because I am. "So you say." Becca's hand slips from mine, and she starts to jog toward the salon, but she suddenly spins on her heels and rushes back in my direction. Leaping, she throws her arms around my neck, and I embrace her back. Becca's mouth crashes on mine. "Don't move." Her skin glows from the sun as she smiles at me.

  "I'm not going anywhere."

  For the remainder of the afternoon, I spend the day working alongside my girl. True to her nature Becca isn't about to waste hours on herself. Instead, we accomplish a few chores around the ranch, then take a little leisure time afterward, cooling off with a dip in the lake, which leads to sex beneath the very oak tree we made love the night before.

  "That's Jax's truck," Becca states as we pull up to the house. "I wonder what he's doing out here?" Beside the truck, I recognize the sports car parked in the driveway the moment we return to the ranch. "Not sure who the car belongs to."

  "Miles," I say.

  "Who's Miles?" Becca looks at me as I park the truck.

  "The band's manager." And I'm positive his arrival brings bad news.

  My thoughts are confirmed when we find Miles, Jax, and Becca's grandad sitting at the kitchen table and see the grim look on my manager's face. All three men look at us, their eyes falling to our joined hands. Jax grins but says nothing. Miles, on the other hand, true to his nature, has something to say.

  "You look better than you have in a long time." He stands and approaches us, looking at Becca. "And I bet this pretty young lady is to blame." He smiles at her. "I'm Miles."

  "Becca." She takes his hand.

  Miles sighs and addresses me. "Easton, there was a break-in at your apartment."

  "What? Anything stolen?" I ask him.

  "No." His eyes cut to Becca briefly.

  "You can speak freely. I’m not hiding anything." I guide Becca to the table, and she sits next to her grandad as I pull out a chair beside her.

  "I went by your place to grab the bed for your cat. The damn furball thinks my pillow belongs to him, and I want it back." Even under the circumstances, I can't help but grin. Miles will never admit he likes the cat. He hands me his phone. "Anyway, I found the place ransacked." I slide my finger across the screen, looking at images of my apartment torn apart. "I took those while waiting for the police to arrive." The final image I stare down at is my bathroom mirror, with the words I will find you written in bright red.

  "Is that blood?" Becca says, sounding concerned.

  "It's lipstick," Miles states.

  "Are you sure this stalker isn’t some scorned ex?" Becca eyes me for an explanation.

  "I don’t have exes. Just a problematic fan." I try to make it sound less than it is.

  "I'd say this is more than problematic. You have a crazy-ass woman on your hands," Becca states. "And you have a cat?"

  "Yeah, Gizmo. Found him in the back alley at a gig one night a few years ago. He's been my sidekick ever since." I look from the screen to Becca. "What"”

  She smiles, her eyes twinkling. "Nothing."

  "Can we get back to the problem at hand?" Miles says. "The police found no signs of forced entry. Hell, even I saw nothing out of the ordinary before opening the door. The place was locked uptight."

  "I obtained a list of residences in the building. Security cameras didn't turn up anyone who was out of the ordinary coming or going aside from delivery personnel, and they were all men," Jax informs us.

  I run my hand through my hair and blow out a breath. "You need me back in Nashville?"

  "I'd advise against it until the police need to talk
with you," Jax cuts in before Miles can respond. "You shouldn't risk this person making contact at all. For now, stay put. Wait a few days. We have someone scoping the building, keeping an eye out for suspicious activity."

  I look at Miles. "Have you heard from Archer, Cody, or Micah?"

  "Micah and Tallulah are with her folks. Cody—he’s relaxing on a beach along the west coast, and Archer, well, he's spending his time flying all over the place." Sounds about right. Archer doesn't like to stay in place too long.

  "The guys and I are going to install a security system inside the apartment. If anyone enters again, we'll be the first to know." Jax looks at his watch and stands. "I got to get home to my woman. If my guys run down any leads, we'll let you know." I stand and shake his hand.

  "Thanks."

  Not long after Jax takes his leave, I walk with Miles to his car. "I need you to do me a favor."

  "Alright." Miles pauses after opening the car door.

  "Becca and her grandfather have a loan out on the ranch. I want it taken care of."

  Miles eyes me for a second. "She means something to you, doesn't she?"

  I look back at the house and notice her grandad stepping outside. "She does."

  "Does she know what you're up to?" he asks.

  I look at Miles but don't answer.

  He sighs. "Your funeral." Then shakes his head. "I'll see what I can find out and take care of it," Miles says. A few minutes later, I watch the taillights of Miles' car disappear the further he drives away from the ranch house. Becca's grandad leans back in his rocking chair on the front porch and folds his arms. "You and my granddaughter have formed a serious attachment to each other." Arthur gazes out at the setting sun.

  "Yes, sir. I like her—more than like her if I can be honest." I lower myself to sit on the porch swing nearby.

  "I can tell." He pauses for a beat. His chair creaks with the rocking back and forth. "My granddaughter is one of a kind. Doesn't nothing on God's green earth mean more to me than her," Arthur tells me.

  "I feel the same."

  Arthur clears his throat. "Good." Then stands. "I like you, Easton. Keep making her smile as you do, and it will stay that way." As he's walking toward the door, Becca steps outside.

  "Hey." She kisses his cheek. "Your medicine and milk are sitting beside your recliner, and they have a John Wayne marathon playing on the TV."

  "Thank you, sweetheart."

  Becca joins me on the porch swing, and I tuck her into my side. "So, a cat, huh? I didn’t peg you as a cat person. What happens to him when you're on the road?"

  "Take him with me," I tell her, and she laughs.

  "You take your cat on tour with you—how does that work?"

  "We tour on the bus mostly, so he hangs out there. And, if we happen to stay in a hotel," I shrug, "I sneak him in."

  "You must love that cat," Becca says, then we sit in silence for a few minutes before she asks, "Are you concerned with the break-in?"

  I sigh. "I am. The letters I've received over the past year never really bothered me, but this shit is too batshit crazy for my liking." Before we can get any deeper into the conversation, my phone rings, I pull it from my pocket, and Becca sees Emerson and my niece's faces on the screen. "My sister." I answer the phone. "Hey," I say to Emerson and look to Becca, who goes to move away.

  "I'll give you some privacy. I need to check on my grandad anyway."

  "Hold on, Em," I tell my sister, then pull Becca back to me. "Give me your lips before you go."

  "You're very bossy."

  "You like it." I cover her mouth with mine. When we finally break away, Becca's pupils dilate, and her eyes become hooded with desire. The way she looks at me has my cock swelling. "I'll come to find you."

  "You better." Becca walks into the house, and I lift the phone to my ear.

  "Are you still with me?"

  "Alright. Spill it," Emerson demands. "I just overheard a very heated lip wrestling match with you and a mystery woman."

  "Her name is Becca. Her family owns the ranch."

  "Don't leave this girl with a broken heart," Emerson warns.

  "She's different, Em," I admit, and the lack of a smart-ass remark from my twin causes me concern. "Em, are you still there?"

  "I'm here." She's quiet for a few more seconds. "You're serious?"

  "She's the one, Em. My person. Becca is my yesterday, today, and all of my tomorrows." I hear my sister sniffle. "Are you crying?"

  "You tell anyone, and I'll kick your ass," Emerson threatens, and I laugh. "East."

  "Yeah?"

  "I'm so fucking happy for you," Emerson says, and emotion pools in my chest.

  "Thanks, Em."

  10

  BECCA

  "Come on! Please," I beg. "It will be fun."

  Easton shakes his head. "Hell no. Not doing it, Red. You can forget it."

  It's been a few days since the debacle at the pizza shop with Carter, and since I let my feelings toward him slip. To say he was a little more than upset that I would even allow the thought of being nothing but a convenience to cross my mind is an understatement. I have never met anyone as intense as Easton, and when he's not being intense and making my tummy flutter, he's making me laugh. Like right now. Easton heard the fair was in town and insisted he take me. I was hesitant at first because I was afraid someone would recognize him and the whole point of him being here is to not be seen. But, he assured me everything would be alright and that he knew how to be incognito when necessary. Easton was correct. He knew how to blend in with the crowd. We've been here nearly three hours, and no one has given him a second glance.

  "Why not?" I ask. I have been trying to convince Easton to get on my favorite ride, The Orbiter, with me for the last ten minutes, but he won't budge.

  "The last time I got on that ride, it was with my sister. We were twelve. Emerson had eaten two corn dogs and drank a huge slushy just before we got on."

  Easton's not even finished with his story, and I already know where it's going. I try to cover my giggle with my hand. But, unfortunately, it doesn't work, and Easton narrows his eyes at me. "Did she…"

  "Yes," he cuts me off. "All was fine until the ride stopped, and we got off. We didn't make it two steps before she turned toward me then proceeded to puke all over in front of me."

  "Oh my god!" I burst out laughing.

  "That shit’s not funny," Easton grumbles.

  "Yes, it is," I wheeze, wiping the tears from my eyes.

  "Hey, you try having someone blow chunks all over you and see how funny it is then. It was literally a chunky corn dog mixed with a blue slushy. She ruined my favorite pair of shoes. I reeked so bad we had to drive home with the windows down. My sister, on the other hand, thought it was hilarious."

  "And you're saying that's why you won't get on the ride with me? Because your sister barfed on you when you were kids?"

  "Hell, yeah. I'm scarred for life."

  "Fine," I relent. "What about the Ferris wheel? Or is there some childhood catastrophe involving you peeing your pants because you're afraid of heights or something?"

  Easton snags me around my waist, pulling me to his chest. "No, smartass, we can go on the Ferris wheel."

  "Good. But I need to go to the restroom first." I kiss his cheek.

  Fifteen minutes later, I'm stepping out of the restroom when I hear a familiar voice, one that sounds like nails on a chalkboard. That's when I look to my right and spot Easton where I left him. He's leaning against the pavilion's brick wall with his phone in his hand and his attention on the screen, not at the woman who is currently talking to him. Unfortunately, she's also standing a little too close for my liking.

  Tamping down my rage, I stroll toward them. Walking closer, I hear the woman say, "I swear I've seen you somewhere before. You look so familiar." I roll my eyes at the line even though she probably does recognize him. I roll my eyes a second time at the way she is dressed. A short tight dress that barely covers her ass. It screams, "Look at me
." We are at a county fair, for goodness sakes, not a nightclub.

  Easton doesn't respond, but he tucks his phone away and smiles when he catches sight of me. The second I'm within arm's reach, he pulls me into his side and gives me a sweet kiss. "Hey, baby."

  Pulling away, I turn my attention to the woman who is still standing beside us. "Oh, hey, Lana. I didn't see you there," I lie. The smirk on Easton's face says he knows it too.

  "Becca." Lana looks to me, to Easton, and then back to me. It's like she's trying to figure out why someone who looks like Easton is with someone like me. I'm not bothered, though. That's a tactic used by women like Lana. That's just their way of letting their own jealousy and insecurities shine through. When will they learn? It makes them look weak. Not to mention, men don't find it attractive either. It's not the perfect body, perfect makeup, and the perfect clothes a man wants…not a real man, anyway.

  "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

  Friend? Really?

  Luckily, I don't have to reply to Lana's snide comment because Easton does it for me. "I'm not her friend. I'm her man. Now, if you'll excuse us." Easton pushes off the wall, steering us away from Lana, who we leave shocked, with her mouth hanging open.

  "That was awesome. God, I hate her."

  Easton keeps his hold on me as we stroll through the crowd without a backward glance. "Yeah, well, I can't stand women like that. So what's her deal, anyway? I'm assuming you know her."

  "You would assume correctly." I blow out a breath. "Lana and I went to high school together. She's also Carter's ex." I watch as Easton's jaw ticks when I mention Carter, but I continue, "Anyway, she was a bitch back then, and she's a bitch now. When we were kids, she convinced Carter I had feelings for him and did everything she could to end our friendship. Of course, she succeeded, but now I have my friend back, so I win, and she loses. Karma always wins in the end." Easton grunts. "Enough about her. I'm hungry. You?"

  "I could eat. What are you in the mood for?"

  Without missing a beat, I reply, "Corn dogs and a blue slushy."