by Tina Saxon
“I can’t promise things outside my control—”
His gasp stops me. “You’re admitting you can’t control everything?”
I narrow my eyes at his sarcasm. The elevator finally opens and we wait for it to empty before stepping into it. I press the buttons for the eleventh and twentieth floors. “But I can promise I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we both stay safe,” I say, ignoring his comment.
“Okay. You have my blessing.” He smirks, walking off on his floor. Smart ass. “Time to go fix my pencil,” he yells as the doors close.
A large hand slips inside just as the doors almost shut. The doors open again and Kase hops on. “Is that code for jacking off?” he jokes, pointing the direction Graham walked. I laugh.
“Nah. At least not this time.” He chuckles but gives me a quizzical look after observing my wet clothes. “We went for a run. I need to change before the meeting starts so I’ll meet you guys in the meeting room in ten.”
“Got it, boss.”
“What’d we find on Brett McDonald?” I ask, glancing up from my notepad. “We know that he delivered the first set of flowers.”
The guys stare at me. I swear I just asked a question. Stone tilts back in his chair. Hudson crosses his arms and Kase lifts a brow as if waiting on me to say something.
It’s clear as day, that’s exactly what they’re doing.
I throw my arms out. Let’s get it over so we can move on. “Sydney and I are dating. Satisfied?” I pause for a beat, my gaze rounds the table meeting smirks and nods. I fight the burn on my face, dropping my eyes to my notes. There’s never been a time I’ve had to announce my relationship with a woman. “Okay, moving on. What’d we find on Brett?” I steer the conversation back to business, leaving no room for questions.
“Nothing. No priors, a couple speeding tickets… on paper, he looks like an upstanding citizen,” Stone states, holding up his record.
“Married?” I ask.
“Nope. Attended the University of New Mexico, where he grew up. I haven’t found any link that would connect him to Sydney other than working for the tour company.” I scratch my head, wondering if I misread him. It’s possible he just has a crush on Sydney.
“I saw him,” Kase says. “He was pissed. We need to watch him. Just because he’s clean on paper doesn’t mean he’s not our guy.”
“I agree. This is the last week of the tour, if he plans on doing something, it’ll be soon.” I sigh at my next bullet point. “Any updates on Rex?”
“Cody talked to the team. They’re adamant about not knowing his whereabouts.”
“Does he believe them?”
“He does.”
“He didn’t by chance ask about their last heist, did he?”
He smirks. “He did. They denied being involved in anything illegal.” Figures they care more about getting caught than their leader. “He did some digging for any high-profile thefts in the weeks leading up to your mom’s call. There was one - in Mexico.” He slides over a printout of an article. I skim it, noting the dollar amount of the jewels stolen. 1.1 million.
Son of a bitch. Where the fuck you hiding, Rex?
“Tell him to get me all the info he can on the robbery.”
I slide my phone over, search for Aiden’s number and hit call. He answers on the first ring, “Hey hashtag boy.” He will never let me live that down.
“Hey fucker, you’re on speaker with the team.”
He laughs. “Hey guys.” They all return the greeting. “Any leads on Sydney’s case?” His voice drops the humor. I fill him in on Brett, but the lack of anything else is disappointing to report.
“I’m calling for Rex. Know anything?”
“Other than he’s an asshat little brother and has a questionable occupation?”
“Don’t be bitter just because you guys can’t catch him in the act.” A slight sense of pride wells inside my chest. I’m not proud of what he does, but I have to respect that he has perfected his craft. If you’re going to do something, do it right.
“Hardy har-har. It’s just a matter of time.” That’s if he’s still alive.
“He’s missing.”
The sound of a chair creaks in the background. “What? Why am I just hearing about this now?” Aiden grew up with Rex being around and as much as we both think he’s a pain in the ass, he’s like a little brother to Aiden too.
“Susie called a few weeks ago and said no-one has seen or heard from him. I figured he was just lying low for some reason.” Guilt that I should have cared more stings. “I’ve had the guys looking, but he’s vanished. I had an idea maybe the FBI had something to do with that.”
“Not that I’m aware of. I’ll look into it, brother.”
“Thanks.”
“You worry about keeping our girl safe. ‘Cause you know if something happens to her, Addison will cut both our balls off. And I don’t know about you, but I have eight more kids to have.”
“Don’t worry, she’s definitely my priority.”
The guys snicker and I shoot them a glare, shaking my head, holding my finger to my lips. After we hang up, Stone pipes in, “You didn’t learn your lesson about keeping secrets from Addison?”
“Sydney wants to keep it on the down-low.” My jaw tightens at the thought of her apprehension. I have to bite back the fear that her reason is she doesn’t have enough trust in us. “I’m giving her a month. The only people that will know are in this room and Graham.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sydney
Max knows how to keep a secret.
He also knows how to be sneaky. When I think of Max, romantic isn't an adjective I would use to describe him. Sexy, demanding, confident, and intense… that was what I expected. But staring at the small glass figurine of Tinkerbell that I found under my covers when pulling out my bed on the bus, I’m adding romantic to the list. The note attached to it reads,
Your flight path leads straight to my heart. ~M
Swoon.
Five days ago, we agreed we would give this a chance. It’s been five days of misery. He’s around me, yet we don’t touch. And while he does these little things to let me know I’m on his mind, I think he’s keeping his distance to make me want him more. It’s working. Max-1, Sydney-0. Who’s idea was it to keep this secret? Oh yeah, that would be yours truly. That was a horrible idea. I outline the wings on the figurine with my index finger and sigh.
In three days, we'll be in Phoenix and we sold out for two nights there. Which means a hotel. And Max. It’s hard to believe the tour will be over in less than a week. Talk about a roller coaster ride. And I still love it. Other than the freak stalker, my stars are aligned, allowing me to see things I never imagined.
I fall asleep dreaming about the possibilities of tomorrow and every day after that. The sweet thoughts of music and Max. How they combine, I don’t know, but it’s the promise that kisses me to sleep tonight.
I roll over when I feel the bus stop and pull back the black heavy curtains. The light I expect to seep into my room doesn’t come, rather it’s still dark outside, and we’re on the side of the highway. Worry has me sitting up, crawling to the end of my bed to peek through the drapes that separate me from the guy’s bunks. Nobody is up yet. I crane my neck to listen for the bus driver and jump when my phone vibrates against the cup holder it’s sitting in. My heart slams against my chest. What if my stalker is here? All the horror movies I’ve watched come to mind when the girl gets stranded on the side of the road, and almost always ends up dead.
“Stone,” I whisper-yell, my nerves gripping hold. “Stone, wake up.”
He rolls out of his bunk, only in a pair of sweatpants, holding his gun. “Wha… What’s wrong,” he says, fully alert, scanning the cabin of the bus.
“We’re stopped. And I just got a text.” I step back into my area and grab my phone, holding it out for him. He takes the phone, a smile creeps up one side of his face as he reads the text.
“I’m ass
uming you didn’t read this?”
“No.” I swipe it back, irritated with his mocking smile.
“Read it. I’m going back to bed.” He yawns and crawls in his bunk. “Have fun,” he murmurs, closing his curtain.
I glance down at the phone and notice it’s from Max. Blowing out a breath; I attempt to release the crazy inside of me. Why didn’t I just peek at the text first?
Hulk: Get dressed. Warm, layered, casual.
I stare at the text. He’ll send another one with more info, right? Because this is not enough. I shake my head. No, he’s not. It’s been five minutes since he sent this one.
Me: I need more info. Are we going to be outside? Public? Just us? How casual?
Just realizing how early it is, I groan.
Me: And why are we up at 4?
Hulk: Yes. Yes. No. Are there different ones? You’ll see.
I match his answers with my questions and smile at his casual confusion. Yes, Max, there is. I decide on workout casual and pull out a pair of heather gray leggings with a long black v-neck t-shirt before I take a quick shower. The weather in Albuquerque is fifty-five degrees so I grab my thicker gray cardigan and my favorite slouchy beanie. It’ll also help keep me under the radar of the public eye. Hopefully.
Thirty minutes later, I tread through the dark, quiet bus. When I slide the pocket door open to where Gus sits, Max is leaning against the dashboard, casually with his arms crossed, talking. My pulse picks up as I drink him in. Backward baseball cap, light washed jeans with a gray henley top that shows off his muscular arms underneath. Oh, boy. I squeeze the knit hat in my hands, wondering how I’m supposed to keep my hands off him while we’re out in the public.
His lips part with a devilish grin. Gus turns in his seat. “Well, there she is. Good morning, Sky,” he bellows, brightly.
I lean over to glance out the windshield to the pitch dark sky. “I wouldn’t consider this morning yet.”
He waves me off. “Just like they say, the early bird gets the worm.” Memories of my dad saying that comes to mind. It was his favorite thing to say as I would drag myself into the kitchen before school started. He was always chipper and ready to start his day, but not without having breakfast with me.
“Aww, yes. But as Franklin D. Roosevelt said, ‘I think we consider too much the good luck of the early bird and not enough the bad luck of the early worm’.” He hoots out loud, slapping his jeans. Max laughs, shaking his head as I close the door behind me so they don’t wake everyone else up. My dad had the same response at my researched retort.
When I glance at Max, he winks at me. “So, are you the bird or the worm?”
I bite my lip, not able to keep the dirtiness of that question out of my mind. I will volunteer to be the worm if Max is the bird. Except, there’s no bad luck when Max is doing the eating. My cheeks heat and I clear my throat, glancing down at my Nike shoes.
“We’ll clear that up later,” Max says with humor in his voice, pulling my attention back to him. “We need to go, though.”
“You two have fun. I’ll see you later in the afternoon,” Gus says, opening the door.
I follow Max out of the bus, the crisp air hitting my face full blast. I pull in a breath, surprised by the coldness. Brrr. I put on my hat and tighten my cardigan around my waist.
“It’ll heat as the sun rises,” Max says, pulling me into his chest and kissing my cold lips. When he pulls back, he looks at my hat and tugs at the puff ball at the top. “Cute.”
I huff, fixing the hat on my head. “You’re like a five-year-old sometimes.”
“You weren’t thinking of me being a five-year-old a couple minutes ago.” He flashes a knowing grin and then grabs my hand, leading me to the back of the bus where his black SUV sits. I shake my head as my cheeks warm. No, I wasn’t. I slide into the passenger side after he opens my door, the inside air smells of leather and Max. Noticing a coffee cup in his console, I pick it up only to find it empty.
“We’ll get some,” he says, sensing my disappointment.
As soon as we pull out, I ask, “Are we going to watch the sunrise somewhere?” I glance out my window to the dark mountains where I assume we’re heading.
“You’ll see.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You know I have a concert tonight, right?”
He laughs. “Yes, I’m aware. Don’t worry, I’ll have you to the venue by noon. Graham already enlightened me what he’ll do if I don’t.”
“His bark is worse than his bite,” I snicker. Reaching over, Max grabs my hand and links our fingers. I revel in his warmth, loving how he makes me feel.
“I’m happy to see you.”
“Me too,” I say, staring at his profile. Can a guy drive sexy? Because, with one hand high on the wheel, his body in a relaxed yet confident position, his tattoo peeking out from under his henley, I want to crawl in his lap.
After driving fifteen minutes, when we pull into a VIP parking lot and park, my attention switches to the sea of cars parked and my nerves flip flop from desire to concern. “Um, Max. This is a little more public than I expected.” He knows how hard it is for me to go anywhere without being flocked by fans.
He turns his hat around, low on his forehead, making him appear more youthful. “I have a plan. But you don’t look like Sky without all the makeup and dressed up.” I shouldn’t feel offended by that, but I do. “You look beautiful. You look like Sydney. My Sydney.”
“Do you not like the way I look on stage?”
He drops his head. “You’re the most gorgeous woman on this earth, no matter what you have on.”
I eye him for a beat before saying, “Good answer.”
The sky lightens to a cool blue, the transition from night to day right before the sun comes up. As soon as we’re out of the car, Max holds my hand, not caring who sees and I don’t either.
“Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta,” I read the sign out loud. “I’ve always heard about this and seen gorgeous pictures. Have you been here before?”
“I haven’t.”
It makes my heart happy that we’re both experiencing something together for the first time. I’m sure there aren’t many things that Max hasn’t done. Our first stop is coffee and a breakfast burrito. There are lines all around us and I relax when no one pays any attention to us.
“This thing is huge,” I say, holding up the foil-wrapped burrito that has to be at least five pounds. “We could have split one.”
He shakes his head. “Hell no. I’m eating all of this.” He unwraps his. “You can’t get a better green chile burrito anywhere else. Don’t worry, I’ll eat what you don’t.” His gaze moves to my burrito.
I pull the warm burrito to my chest. “Since you put it that way, maybe I don’t want to share.”
My response amuses him. “Spiteful and confident. Two of your sexiest traits, Tink.”
I take a sip of my coffee and lift a brow over the rim. “You can sweet talk me all you want, you’re still not getting my burrito.”
Glancing around when his laughter is drowned out by a loud noise, we notice a crew of people rolling out a balloon, laying the basket on its side. “Oh! One is being blown up. Let’s go watch before it’s too late.”
“Babe. There are over two hundred balloons that will take off during the first wave. We can miss one,” he jokes.
My eyes widen. “How many waves are there?” He takes a large bite of his burrito right when I ask so he holds up two fingers. “Okay, then let’s sit and eat.” He nods in approval, taking another large bite.
When I’ve had all I can manage, I sigh, handing him the other half of my burrito. He smiles and accepts it. “Did you at least like it?” he teases.
“Yes. It was delicious, but it was a lot of food.” I rub my full belly and take a sip of coffee, to wash down the spicy taste of green chile. He takes four bites to finish the last half.
Wiping off his mouth, he steps out of the picnic table. “Ready, beautiful?” God, I love when he sweet talks me.
I hop off the bench, nodding in excitement. I’ve been eyeing the balloons as they pop up for fifteen minutes. There are rows and rows of colorful balloons. We’re able to walk right up to them. The heat from the blow torch thing they use blanket us in warmth. The anticipation builds, while observing them. We back up as one of the workers tilt a basket upright. The crew works feverishly to keep the balloon in one place so it doesn’t take off or take out the balloon going up next to it. I tear my eyes off the impressive sight to glance around.
“No way! There’s Smokey the Bear!” I point to the head of a bear that everyone learns about in grade school. “Only you can prevent wildfires,” I say, repeating the slogan my students learned. Max chuckles at my teacher’s voice.
There are rows and rows of balloons. Many kissing each other as the field overflows with the most vibrant primary colors. I cheer with the crowd whenever one lifts off. Max just stands back, enjoying my enthusiasm.
When he glances down at his watch, he says, “Time to go.”
I freeze in place, my smile falling. “It’s only eight. We have four hours before I have to be anywhere. Why are we leaving?” I whine.
“We’re not leaving, Tink. We just need to keep moving.”
“Oh.” I shift from foot to foot. “Sorry. Totally misread that.” I shrug, stepping into his chest. He wraps his arms around me.
“There’s no way I’d leave now. I’m having too much fun watching all the different emotions cross your face.” He slips his fingers through mine and we continue walking down a row. One by one, until the sky is filled with clusters of balloons. I wince when two of them seem like they’re about to collide but blow out a sigh of relief when one operator pulls up, and the other goes down. Geez, it’s intense up there. I hear Max chuckle next to me.
“That could have been a disaster.” I pinch his arm for making fun of me. “I’m a little passionate.”
“A little?” He quips, stopping at a balloon being rolled out. One guy from the crew stares at us. Oh, no. He recognizes us.