Baby Surprises 7 Book Box Set

by Layla Valentine

  “Yep. I told you how they were musicians, right?”

  “You did.”

  “And they’ve got the opposite problem as you—I couldn’t get them to settle down if I tried. As soon as I moved out, they sold all their stuff and started traveling the world. Last I heard they were in Thailand playing music for tourists on some beach.”

  “Worse ways to spend your golden years,” he said.

  “True, but I miss the old farts sometimes,” I said.

  I looked down to see that my plate was totally clean. “This was so good.”

  “There’s more,” he said.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” I helped myself to seconds and sat back down.

  “I never get to eat like this,” he said. “When I’m on tour, it’s all venue food or whatever junk I can wolf down on the way from the arena to the airport. Forgotten how good something simple and hot and home-cooked could be.”

  “You’re right about it being good,” I said. “I need to be careful about eating too much, or I’m going to pop.”

  He let out a dry chuckle.

  I was pleased to see how easy it was to sit and chat with Johnny. Part of me last night had been worried about what the morning would be like, if things would be awkward in the bright light of day. But it wasn’t like that at all—we’d settled into pleasant conversation like we were old friends who were catching up.

  Then a tinge of sadness ran through me. As fun as this might’ve been, it was going to end any second. After all, Johnny was on tour.

  I decided not to let the question linger in the back of my mind.

  “I bet you need to get going soon, huh?” I asked.

  He raised his eyebrows, his mouth in a slight smirk. “Why, trying to get rid of me?”

  “No,” I said. “Not that at all. Just trying to figure out how much time we have left together before you need to leave to Portland or LA or wherever you’re going next.”

  He set down his fork, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “What?” I asked, curious as to what was on his mind.

  “What if I told you that I didn’t have to leave today?” he asked.

  “I don’t even know,” I said. “I’d just assumed you’d be off after breakfast.”

  “Not so,” he said. “We’re heading to Salt Lake next, but we’re not due in until tomorrow.”

  I allowed myself to become cautiously excited. “That right?”

  “Mhmm,” he said. “So, if we did happen to decide to spend the day together, would you have anything in mind that you’d want to do?”

  “Depends,” I said.

  “On?”

  “If you feel up for some nature.”

  “Always,” he said.

  “You heard of Cougar Mountain?”

  “Nope,” he said. “But it sounds ferocious.”

  “It’s one of the best parks in the state. And very close to the city. I’m thinking that you and I could head out there, go for a nice, long walk, maybe bring along a little something to eat. Then once we’ve been rejuvenated by the majestic sights and sounds of nature, we can figure out something else fun to do.”

  “That sounds absolutely perfect,” he said.

  “Then it’s settled,” I said. “Let’s finish up and clean the kitchen and then…”

  I trailed off, the sight of Johnny’s sculpted body now too much to bear.

  “And then?” he asked.

  “Then I can take you back into the bedroom and properly thank you for making breakfast.”

  He laughed before taking a bite of his eggs. “You’re on.”

  Chapter 10

  Johnny

  The fresh air had been just what I’d needed. I stopped in my tracks and closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face through the towering branches of the pines around us.

  And it was so freaking quiet. There was lilting birdsong here and there, along with the occasional rustling of a woodland creature running across the forest floor. But other than that, there were no sounds aside from our footfalls and the cool, refreshing breezes that gently rocked the branches above.

  “You okay back there?” asked Kendra, stopping a dozen or so feet ahead of me.

  “More than okay,” I said. “I feel like I’m in heaven.”

  She smiled, her gorgeous eyes locked onto me. “Happy to hear it.”

  Kendra was dressed in tight blue jeans and a flannel shirt which she’d long removed and tied around her waist, revealing a sleeveless white shirt. Her blond hair was up in a ponytail, and she looked the perfect blend of outdoorsy and sexy as hell.

  We continued along, making our way down the trail.

  “So,” she said. “What would you be doing right now if we weren’t hanging out?”

  “Hmm,” I said, considering the question. “Probably out with the guys. They’ve probably taken advantage of the fact that we don’t have anything to do today, so they’re all craving the hair of the dog right about now.”

  I went on, watching her body move.

  “We’d be in some dingy dive bar doing some day drinking and getting ready to drunkenly wander around the city and figure out what kind of trouble to get into.”

  “You don’t sound too thrilled by the idea.”

  “That obvious?” I asked.

  “That obvious.”

  “I mean, don’t get me wrong—I love hanging out with the guys. They’re like brothers to me. But…”

  “The rock star lifestyle wearing kind of thin?”

  “At least the hedonistic parts,” I admitted. “I still love playing music, still love sharing my art with my fans. But the boozing and the groupies and the parties… Yeah, I’m getting a little tired of all that. Not to mention what I was talking to you last night about what our manager wants to do with us. That new direction.”

  “That’s too bad,” said Kendra. I could tell she meant it.

  “And the worst part is that it’s not just him. It’s Marcus, too.”

  “‘Marcus’ as in ‘Marcus Thorne’? Your rhythm guitarist?”

  “That’s right,” I said. “He’s all about trying to push us to the next level of fame. Though I’m starting to wonder if it’s more about money at this point. He’s all about our manager’s ideas. It’s freaking weird—never in a million years would I ever have thought any of us would care about anything other than the music.”

  “People change,” she said as we both stepped up onto a tree that had fallen over the trail. “You’re proof of that.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” I said. “I’ve changed in one way, him in another. Still weird to think about.”

  I shook my head, realizing that I was rambling.

  “What about you?” I asked. “How would you be spending this insanely nice Saturday afternoon?”

  “Hmm,” she said as we continued on. “Probably lazing around the apartment, recovering from last night. I’d have some delivered bagel-and-egg sandwich in my belly instead of your awesome breakfast. Then I’d check in with my bands, make sure their schedules were all lined up for upcoming shows. Then maybe swing by a few local clubs later in the evening, see if there’s any talent sneaking around the city that I don’t know about.”

  “Working on a Saturday,” he said. “That’s dedication.”

  “I love it,” she said. “Don’t even really consider it work. I just know that one of my bands is going to make it big one of these days, and each day I work brings me closer to that.”

  Between this and what she’d already said about letting her artists play the music they want, I was starting to wonder if I had the wrong manager. I grinned as I pictured the look on Marcus and Rick’s faces if I were to tell them that Redemption was done, that I’d found some local girl to take over from here on out.

  We kept on down the trail. Before too long, my stomach started to grumble.

  “I’m right there with you,” she said, glancing at my belly. “What do you say about stopping for lunch here in a minute?
”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said.

  We continued on along down the trail, eventually coming to a clearing, the grass bright with sunlight.

  “Looks perfect to me,” I said.

  “Yep,” said Kendra. “Good place for some vitamin D.”

  I slung the pack off my back and began taking out all the things we’d brought. There was a small bag with some sandwiches we’d picked up from a place on the way, along with some fruit juice and chips. Kendra got the blanket all spread out and soon we were ready to eat.

  “Roast beef or turkey?” I asked, holding up the sandwiches.

  “Roast beef, please,” she said. “Turkey doesn’t have any place outside of a Thanksgiving table, in my opinion.”

  I smiled and handed the sandwich over to her.

  “Can’t say I agree with you there,” I said. “Turkey’s a damn good meat for any occasion.”

  She grinned. “Then gobble, gobble. And bon appétit.”

  I unwrapped my meal and set into it, the sun warming my face. Kendra and I chatted as we ate, occasionally sneaking kisses from one another. I couldn’t get over how easy it was to talk to her, how effortless our conversations were. That spark that I’d felt between us when I first saw her backstage hadn’t been nothing—there was really…something between us.

  Something that scared me and thrilled me all at once.

  When we were done, we cleaned up and let the food settle. I sat back on my hands, Kendra laying her head on my leg and looking up at the sky. I could’ve stayed there all day—hell, all weekend—just Kendra and me and the calm woods around us.

  And that’s when the realization hit me—this was all going to end, and sooner than I’d want. Tomorrow I’d be back on the road, my day with Kendra only a memory. This was just a brief vacation from reality, and as much as I was enjoying it, I knew I needed to keep that in mind.

  I felt like I had to say something.

  “Listen,” I said.

  “What’s up?” she asked, the light of the sun making her eyes the same color as the grass around us.

  “I don’t want to kill the mood or anything, but I don’t think this is going to last any longer than today.”

  Her expression sank a little bit, and I went on.

  “I’ve been having a great time with you, and if things were different, there’s no damn doubt that I’d want to see where this thing between us might go. But…things aren’t different. I’m on tour. I’m going to be gone tomorrow, and I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page about this.”

  My stomach tightened, which was strange as hell—I’d never been one to be afraid of laying things out for girls like this. And I’d had to do it many, many times over the years. Plenty of one-night flings woke up in the morning thinking our evening was going to result in my making them Mrs. Johnny Maxton, and I’d gotten used to letting them down.

  Kendra was different, though. My words weren’t lies, and I was genuinely worried about making her upset.

  She sat up and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “I get it.”

  “You do?”

  A small smile took hold of her features.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I do. You are talking to a label owner, remember? If anyone knows about the lifestyles of musicians, it’s me.”

  She looked away for a moment before turning her eyes back to me and going on. “And I’ve even dated a few of them, so I really, really, know how it is.”

  Relief spread through me.

  “Good,” I said. “Because I want to be honest with you. Like I said, maybe if things were different, but as it stands right now, I’m not exactly boyfriend material.”

  “Oh,” she said smirking and raising an eyebrow. “Hadn’t even considered the possibility that I might not be interested in being the girl of the great Johnny Maxton?”

  I chuckled. “Didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Oh, please,” she said, clasping her hands together and speaking in a theatrical tone. “Please, Mr. Maxton, don’t leave a poor maiden like me behind! Surely, our lovemaking meant something to you? Why, whatever will I do without your powerful, masculine presence—I am but a woman after all!”

  I laughed and gave her a playful shove. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

  She let her hands drop to her sides and spoke normally.

  “I get it too,” she said. “And I’m just busting your balls. I appreciate it, I really do. But yeah, like you said, this is all going to end soon, so let’s just enjoy it while we can. And at least we’ll have some nice memories.”

  “I like that,” I said, leaning in and kissing her again.

  She put her head back on my leg, and we sat in silence again.

  But, for all my talk about this being a transient moment, a part of me wished that the day would never end. As good as it felt to be honest with each other, I knew a part of me would always regret leaving Kendra behind.

  Chapter 11

  Kendra

  We were back in the city, and I was behind a small shopping cart, pushing it down the aisles of my local natural foods store. Johnny was back at my place, waiting for me to come home with ingredients for the dinner I’d promised him that night.

  “Don’t worry about that,” he’d said. “I’m happy to make some more food.”

  “Nah,” I’d said right back with a smile. “And have that debt hanging over my head? No way—I’m going to get us nice and square for those killer eggs you made this morning.”

  Just like I’d hoped, he hadn’t put up too much of a fight. So, there I was, shaking my hips as I picked out ingredients. I’d been pretty darn crafty about what I was going to make tonight, too. On the car ride back, I “happened to” bring up our favorite meals. He went on about the chicken parmesan his mom used to make, and lucky for him, that happened to be one the few dishes I knew how to prepare.

  I grabbed the breadcrumbs off the shelf and tossed them into the cart. After I did, I decided that some music was just what my shopping trip needed. I slipped my phone out of my pocket and opened my streaming music app.

  And, of course, Memphisto was right there in my “recommended” section. I knew how corny it was to listen to the music of the guy I was seeing. Or spending the weekend together. Or whatever we were doing.

  But I didn’t care. I pulled up their first album and hit play, the grinding but melodic guitar riffs of “Cold Wind,” the first track, filling my ears.

  It was good, just as good as the first time I’d heard it all those years ago. The guitar intro slowly melted into Johnny’s voice, his tone passionate yet tough at the same time. I closed my eyes and let myself get swept away in the pulsing beat and his beautiful words, the music coming to a lull right before the explosive chorus.

  Right as the chorus hit, however, I felt a poke in my back. I turned to see an irked-looking older woman stuck behind me and my cart in the narrow aisle. I realized that I’d gotten so carried away with the music I’d forgotten where I was.

  “Sorry,” I said with a sheepish smile as I took out my earbud and shimmied over to the side.

  The woman made her way past as my face turned a deep shade of red.

  I quickly gathered the rest of the ingredients, along with a bottle of red wine, paid, and headed back to my apartment. Once I was there, I stopped short with my keys in front of the lock. Through the door I could hear the faint strains of guitar music, a gorgeous voice drifting over the notes.

  Holy shit—Johnny Maxton was playing music in my apartment, on my guitar. I was so thrilled that I nearly dropped my bag of groceries. But I held onto them, closing my eyes as I listened to him sing over the fingerpicked chords.

  At first, I listened to the music as a fan, simply enjoying the music for what it was. But the longer I stood there, the more the businesswoman in me came out. And I realized that the song he was playing was not only really damn good, but it was also exactly something I could imagine hearing on the radio. It was sweet and beautiful and catchy all at the
same time. And the chorus was pure magic—I could already tell it was going to be stuck in my ear.

  The song ended with one last, drawn-out chord, and I finally put my keys in the lock and opened up.

  “There you are,” said Johnny as he set down the guitar and got up.

  He stepped over to me, taking the grocery bags from my hands.

  “I see you found the guitar,” I said.

  “That I did,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind, but I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Don’t mind one bit,” I said. “In fact, I heard a little of what you were playing.”

  “Oh, did you now?” he asked.

  “I did. Was that a cover? It’s something I’ve never heard before.”

  “Nope,” he said. “Just something I came up with.”

  He set the bags down and peeked inside.

  “Hey now,” I said. “I told you dinner was going to be a surprise.”

  “Fine, fine,” he said. “I did spot a couple bottles of wine in there—mind if we crack one of those bad boys open?”

  “Go for it,” I said. “Just as long as you pour me a glass.”

  “That I can handle.”

  He opened up the wine as I took out the groceries.

  “So,” I said, getting everything lined up for making the food. “You ever run that song by your manager?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I went through the basic outline of it.”

  “Then it’s going to be on your next album, right?”

  He chuckled as he sat down at the table with his wine. “Nope. Rick said it didn’t have commercial appeal.”

  My eyes nearly popped out of my head from the shock.

  “Are you serious?” I asked. “No commercial appeal? Is he crazy? That sound should be blowing up the charts!”

  “Hey,” he said. “You don’t need to convince me—I like the stuff I write. But shit. We’ve given so much up with Redemption. It’s crazy to me that I have to run tracks by our manager for his okay, but that’s part of the contract we signed.”

  The groceries all laid out on the counter, I crumpled up the bags and tossed them into the trash.