“CB!” she screeched, tightly squeezing his sturdy arms as he spun her around.
When he pulled back, he kept his hands on her bare arms and gave her the once-over, his azure eyes crinkled in a smile. “God, you look good! I’m so happy to see you.”
“I’m happy to see you, too.” She grinned. Tilting her head to look past him, she searched for Fiona and frowned. “Where’s the Mrs.?”
“Fiona’s at an appointment she couldn’t reschedule – said she’d meet us back at the apartment.” Slinging his arm across her shoulders, he squeezed. “We can’t wait to hear all about your Scottish beau.”
Chris grabbed her luggage handle to tote her suitcase. They moseyed side by side toward the exit as a sea of people rushed all around them. The frenzy was a far cry from quiet Cold Creek, the noise and masses of people something she could never get used to.
Nicky blushed, walking in step beside him. “He started rehearsals today and wanted me to thank you and Fiona for picking me up while he’s working.”
“Not a problem. We wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
“How are things for you guys? I haven’t seen you two since Memorial Day weekend at Stone Farm. By the way, I recently made a charcuterie board for my parents, you know, similar to the one Fiona made that weekend. It was a big hit.”
Chris chuckled. “Fiona’s the queen of the spread, for sure. I wish we could’ve worked it into our schedule to come back to the farm over the summer, but we had a ton of charity events lined up. It seems like every time we made plans to come, something always came up.”
Once they hit the sidewalk outside the station, the two darted in and out of the flow of people, the loud city noises grating Nicky’s ears.
“Right over there,” Chris indicated, jutting his chin in the direction of an idling, parked town car. A man in a suit quickly got out and helped arrange the luggage efficiently into the trunk. When they were finally settled inside the quiet interior, Nicky let out a sigh.
“So, what’s it like livin’ the high life? You ever get tired of it?” Her question was cliché, but she really did want to hear his answer. The former bartender’s entire life had changed the moment he met Fiona.
Chris ran a hand through his short hair and shrugged, the Brooklyn-born native never one to shy away from his luck in love and life. “It’s been pretty amazing. The best part is seeing Fiona thrive as a savvy businesswoman on her own, much like her father, and you.” Leaning back in the plush interior, he eyed Nicky with delight. “Fiona showed me the spread Bridal Magazine did for White Barn Weddings this past June. Holy shit, Nicky! You’re doing great!”
Pride filled her being, and her cheeks ached from the perma-grin she couldn’t shake. “I have you and Fiona to thank for that. Remember, your wedding kick-started this whole thing into overdrive.”
“Nah,” he said, waving her off. “It was bound to happen. You know how I feel about Cold Creek and your family’s businesses. You’re hard-working, honest people. Makes me happy I can say, ‘I knew her when.’”
“What does that mean?” she giggled.
“Oh, it just means, I’m glad we’re still friends, and we have Cold Creek roots. Stone Farm will always be my home away from home. And I hope you know by now, we’ll always be friends.”
The car slowed and pulled up to a high-rise apartment complex, the doorman quick and efficient, opening the car door and helping Nicky out.
“Thank you,” she muttered, slinging her computer bag over her shoulder. It was hot in the city, and she was glad she wore a sleeveless blouse over her jeans, the pale pink showing off her tanned skin.
“Right this way,” the elderly man said, opening the giant door to the lobby.
“Thanks, Q. Nicky, this is our awesome doorman and friend, Quinn. You might remember him from our wedding – he was sitting next to my mother with Saint on his lap,” Chris stated, slapping the man on the back as if they were old chums. Saint was Fiona’s spoiled Maltese she insisted be part of their nuptials, the little dog a genuine part of their family.
“Oh, yes. I remember. So nice to see you again, Quinn.”
“Pleasure’s mine.” He grinned, his brown eyes warm and friendly.
By the time they got to the twenty-fifth floor, Nicky could hear the little dog yipping from behind the door and smiled, thinking back to the first time she met Fiona and her dog at the train station in Cold Creek. Back then, Nicky wasn’t so sure Chris should associate with such a high-profile woman, infamous for her social calendar, paparazzi photos, and money. But Fiona Merrill eventually won Nicky over, especially after the selfless donation of her kidney to Chris’s ailing mother. And how could she ever forget the unsolicited media attention her and Chris’s wedding garnered when they hired her tiny business to accommodate them? Their wedding catapulted White Barn Weddings into the stratosphere.
“How’s your mom feeling these days, Chris?” she asked, leaning her bag against the luggage in the foyer and kneeling to stroke an excited Saint. The little fluffball's entire body shook with joy as he licked and pawed her.
“Oh, man, so good. She’s been traipsing all over New Jersey with her grandson, enjoying life – you know, living la Vida Loca.” Chris beamed with his hands on his hips, standing in the opulent residence in shades of white and silver décor. It was a far cry from his humble home known as Stone Farm back in Cold Creek, the ancient farm meticulously given a makeover in the last year. Chris made sure the changes stayed true to the history and warmth of the place but placated Fiona with a new HVAC system and gated driveway. Seeing him in his new environment that included a million-dollar view of the city, Nicky couldn’t help but think he looked right at home. Dressed in casual pants and a short-sleeved polo shirt, he looked as if he might run off to the country club to play a round of golf. His long, tedious years as a bartender were far behind him.
Picking up Saint, Nicky followed Chris into the living space, the panoramic view of Manhattan with the unmistakable sight of the Empire State Building, striking in the distance. The two sat on the large white sofa, the little dog making himself comfortable on her lap.
“So, where’d you say Fiona is? An appointment? Don’t tell me she’s off getting her nails done or at a fitting. I’ll kill her.” Nicky giggled. When she noticed Chris avert her gaze and shift uncomfortably in his seat, she became concerned. “Oh, god. How is her health? Is she okay?”
When Chris looked up, the look on his face held uncertainty. “She’s…amazing. And she’s gonna kill me for what I’m about to tell you.” His jaw clenched with hesitation.
“Tell me what?” Nicky insisted, holding her breath. She braced herself for the worst news, knowing Fiona had gone through a lot to donate her kidney to Chris’s mother. Reaching for his hand, she gripped his fingers and concentrated on his expression as he proudly proclaimed their news.
“Nick-stick…I’m gonna be a father.”
Chapter Seventeen
Riding in the back of the black town car, Mac couldn’t help but tap his foot nervously, counting down the avenues till he was at the address Nicky texted him a few minutes earlier. The first day of rehearsals had gone well, the band well-rested and excited after their international flight the day before. He was glad to see everyone – to collaborate with his team, his family. They were a comfortable lot, exchanging friendly jabs and jokes before getting down to business, going over the progression of two of the newer songs on the setlist in the efficient space for hours. Thoughts of Nicky were never far from his mind, the last hour dreadfully ticking by at a snail’s pace. When they were finally dismissed by their manager, Ben Hightower, the Brit slapped him on the back with a cheeky grin knowing where Mac was headed.
“Feel free to bring her to rehearsals anytime. I’d love to meet the young lady who’s claimed Reid Macpherson’s heart.”
“Would ye now?”
“Of course,” his voice inflected with sincerity. “Now, go on then. Roger is waiting, ready to take you wherever you
need to go.”
It was odd having a driver at your beck and call at all times. Mac couldn’t even remember the last time he drove a car, his manager taking care of every detail of his life while he focused on preparations for the tour. One of the perks of being a world-renowned musician he supposed. Glancing beyond the back of Roger’s head, the golden glow of dusk filtered through the front windshield, the moon creeping its way up into the transforming skyline. It was later than he’d hoped, the dinnertime hour long gone in the last embers of the late summer radiance. Traffic was abysmal, the sounds of honking horns and squeaky brakes muffled from within the auto’s comfortable interior.
Leaning forward, Mac scrubbed at his face. “How much longer do ye think it will be, Roger?”
The friendly driver tilted his smiling face to look at him through the rearview mirror. “Not much longer. It’s the high-rise on the next block to your right.”
As the car eased to the curbside, Mac’s heart palpitated in his chest when he spotted Nicky standing outside the building, smiling and laughing with another couple, her large suitcase and bags parked nearby. Before Roger had the car in park, Mac opened the door and hopped out. Nicky’s emerald eyes locked on his and she squealed as she rushed toward him, catapulting her lithe body into his. Swinging her in a circle, he breathed in her essence, feeling her heat press against his skin. What bliss – what utter contentment to have this woman in his arms again.
Nicky grabbed at his hairy cheeks and forcefully planted a wet kiss on his lips, surprising him and momentarily leaving him speechless. “You’re here.” She smiled, her dimples making a show for him on her flushed cheeks.
“Aye. I’m here. I’m so sorry I missed dinner. Can ye forgive me?”
Without hesitation, she pressed her teeth into her lower lip, her eyes scrolling his features, and nodded. Did she have any idea how fucking gorgeous she was? When she flung her arms around his neck and squeezed a second time, he exhaled with genuine relief before noticing the curious couple eyeing their every move. The smiles on their faces indicated the reunion must have been entertaining to watch.
“Care to formally introduce me to yer friends?” he muttered, nipping at Nicky’s ear as she untangled herself from his frame.
Smoothing her hair back from her face while gripping him by the hand to regain some kind of composure, she emitted a happy sigh. “Mac, these are my good friends, Chris and Fiona.”
Fiona turned on the charm and opened her arms wide to welcome Mac in a polite hug. “So good to see you again, Mac. You played at one of our charity events last December and helped us raise a lot of money for our foundation, remember?”
“Aye, ye took excellent care of us, too, I might add. So good to see ye again.”
Chris moved forward with an outstretched hand and shook Mac’s. “I’m Chris, Fiona’s personal assistant.”
The group chuckled as Fiona playfully swatted Chris across the arm. “Chris!” she whined, feigning embarrassment. Mac couldn’t help but notice the unmistakable love between them as Chris wrapped his arm around his wife’s slender waist and pulled her close. As if mimicking her friends, Nicky leaned closer to Mac and caressed his muscular arm with her free hand, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Thanks again for greeting Nicky at the station and keeping her entertained. I hope ye’ll forgive me for missing dinner tonight. I should have known the first day of rehearsals always seems to go a wee bit longer.”
“Don’t worry about it. Rock and roll, baby,” Chris grinned, curling and flexing his fingers into the hand-horn sign for rock and roll, mocking a head-banger. “You’re here in town for what, a month? There’ll be plenty of time for more dinners.”
“Aye.” Mac nodded, thankful for his understanding. Without hesitation, he kissed Nicky on the top of her head and murmured, “Shall we?” When she looked up at him with those dreamy eyes, he nearly felt weak in the knees.
“Yes.” Her response was throaty and filled with desire.
Roger stood nearby with the car door open, Nicky’s luggage already settled in the trunk. Fiona disengaged from her husband and held Nicky’s face in her hands, kissing her on both cheeks. The petite blonde was glowing, her expression full of adoration. Mac continued to watch their little exchange as Nicky pressed her palm against the woman’s flat stomach before pulling her in for a hug. Chris approached and gave Nicky one last peck on the cheek before all of them waved and hollered their goodbyes. As Roger shut them into the car, Mac watched the doorman of the building bow and swing open the large door for the couple as if they were old friends. Fiona paused and cupped the man’s cheek, saying something to make him grin from ear to ear. Chris and Fiona slowly ambled inside with their arms tightly around each other, the fading light of the horizon disappearing behind the buildings. When Mac turned to look at Nicky, she was smiling at him with enthusiasm.
“Come closer, lass,” he requested, patting the space between them. When she was snuggled against the hard planes of his chest, he breathed in her fragrance, every fiber of his being full of longing. “I can’t tell ye how excited I am to have ye here for the whole month. I hope ye’re as excited as I am,” his voice rumbled over the top of her hair. He felt her nod into his chest.
“I am,” she admitted. “More than you’ll ever know.”
***
Nicky stood on the terrace of the hotel suite, taking in the romantic setting. Pillar candles flickered in various decorative lanterns expertly placed throughout the small space, the blue-gray hues of nightfall a backdrop behind the city's towering buildings. Water gurgled from a small fountain in the corner, surrounded by colorful flowers in solid planters, the area an unexpected oasis one wouldn’t expect in a historic hotel this size. Room service had obviously come in earlier to set up the quixotic scene – a romantic vision forever branded into her mind.
On the wrought iron coffee table sat a silver bucket holding a bottle of chilled champagne tilted among glistening ice cubes and casting a shadow across two crystal flutes waiting to be filled. Several glass votives holding tea-light candles shimmered, casting slants of light across the iron furniture, the innate attention to detail one of the things this particular hotel was known for. The muffled, faraway sounds of the subway rumbled beneath the surface, and a police siren wailed in the distance. Nicky gripped the edge of the railing containing the cozy area and relished the slight breeze blowing her hair back from her face, the humid, pungent air unfamiliar in the city setting.
When they first arrived, Mac was a complete gentleman and gave her a guided tour of the entire decadent suite. He reassured her over and over that this was her home, too, for the next month, and if she needed anything at all, the staff was ready to accommodate her with a single phone call. Nicky was floored by the square footage, the fireplace, and elegant furnishings which were a far cry from what the historic hotels in Cold Creek held. She was especially touched when he showed her the bedroom. Instead of ripping her clothes off right there in the threshold of the doorway, he gently palmed the small of her back and pointed out the two expensive chocolates perfectly placed on the king-size pillows, the inviting bed already turned down for the evening. He explained this was one of his favorite treats when he traveled abroad and stayed in the more elegant hotels – bedtime chocolate. Glancing at his boyish smile, a thrill rushed through her when he told her he had another treat waiting for her on the terrace.
“Here we are,” his baritone brogue rumbled, bringing her back to the present.
When she turned to greet him, her eyes widened at the sight of a half dozen chocolate covered strawberries perfectly lined up on a square plate. The red fruit and dark confection stood out against the white china, looking like something out of a gourmet food magazine.
“Oh, now you’re really spoiling me,” her voice lilted. A rush of heat peppered her cheeks as she watched him set the plate down on the table before he effortlessly popped the cork off the champagne bottle. The two sniggered as he poured the pale fizzy liquid
into the flutes without spilling a single drop. As he handed her a glass, his azure gaze held warmth and pleasure.
“Sláinte,” his voice rumbled as he held his flute up into the air.
“Sláinte,” she repeated, clinking her glass against his. Her eyes remained wide as she lifted the glass and took a hefty swig of expensive liquid courage. It was hard to admit she was nervous – but she was. Never in her small-town life had she been treated to such decadence in the big city. Standing on the terrace of Reid Macpherson’s plush hotel suite held infinite possibilities – and questions. Her mind was on a constant reel of scenarios playing out, the plethora of her emotions running amuck and making her second guess if coming here for an extended stay was truly the best idea. Totally out of her element and almost nauseous from the constant fluttering of horny butterflies in her tummy, Mac must have noticed her uneasy countenance and swiftly set his glass on the table before picking up the plated berries to offer her one.
Batting her eyelashes, she smiled and picked up a strawberry, waiting for him to do the same. Watching him bite into the fruit with a moan, she followed suit, her eyes growing large at the immediate explosion of tart fruit and decadent chocolate hitting her taste buds. Chewing slowly, she almost admitted the delectable treat was better than her fondness for wedding cake.
“So good,” she hummed with her mouth full.
“Aye,” Mac agreed, finishing his off in two bites. Sitting on the colorful cushions of the outdoor sofa, he leaned back with his arm outstretched across the top of the furniture. “Nicky, sit with me.”
She set her half-eaten strawberry on the plate and licked her lips before sitting next to him, the heat from his body immediately infiltrating her thin blouse.
“I know ye’re nervous,” he started.
Shaking her head, she furrowed her brow, embarrassed by his assessment of her. “No…I’m not.”
Chuckling, he pulled her closer. “Aye, ye are.” He paused as if mulling over his next sentence. “This whole place is over the top – it’s not who I am. Believe me.”
I'll See You Again: A Scottish rock star, standalone opposites-attract romance (Reigning Hearts Book 4) Page 12