Playing With Fire (Grindstone Harbor, #2)

by Cat Mason

  He sighs and then there is some shuffling with the phone, followed by what sounds like muffled voices and the creaking of a desk chair. Finally, there is the distinct sound of a door closing. “I’m very interested in why you’ve felt it necessary to call me directly over a matter that you clearly admit Miss Brandwell has already spoken to you about. I can’t say that’s a productive way to spend your time.”

  “The fact that you have to ask that question at all shows how little you know about the situation.”

  “Or the miserable bitch you hired to manage your talent,” Tanner grumbles, shaking his head.

  Elbowing him in the hip, I step closer to the counter. “Mr. Boyer, this is Quinn Baker.” I feel Tanner’s heat at my back as I speak. Slipping his hand in mine, he gives it a supportive squeeze. “I’d really like to discuss what happened today with you personally, before you walk into that meeting. It’s important that you have all the information, straight from the source, when you make any decision about the future of Absent Without Leave.”

  “Decision?” he asks, sounding confused. “I’m not quite sure I’m following you, but I take it this is about the video Miss Brandwell forwarded me just before I spoke to her on the phone?”

  Bristol and I share a look. “It is,” I confirm.

  “I assure you, we are taking the necessary measures to have it removed from our sites as well as yours,” he explains, calmly. “That’s all I can really share with you at this point since Miss Brandwell and I haven’t discussed how to proceed.”

  “Vicki mentioned some things about our contracts,” Bristol begins.

  “I’m sorry,” he snaps, cutting her off. “Problems like you are currently having should be discussed with Miss Brandwell. I’ve not had the time to get up to speed on more than what she’s told me this afternoon.”

  “Mr. Boyer—”

  “Speak to Miss Brandwell.” He cuts her off again. “I trust her implicitly to take care of everything. As should you. Goodbye, Miss Lachlan.”

  “Anyone else feel like shit isn’t adding up?” Tanner asks, the second Boyer ends the call.

  “I’m going to put a call in to Brenda Gentry as soon as I head over to Tage’s to let Moo out,” Bristol says, snatching up her phone. “She has copies of all the contracts we signed on file in her office.”

  “Good idea,” Greer says, turning for the hallway. “I’ve got a few calls to make too. On the chance we need to cover our bases.”

  “Moo came in the front with me,” Evan says, jerking his chin upward. “Lazy ass went straight upstairs to find himself a bed after his trip down the beach.”

  “Shit fuck whore! Moo!” Bristol shouts, leaping down from her stool and hauling ass out of the room. “Get your sand covered ass out of my bed, you beast. I just changed those sheets!”

  “Guess there are some things even Moo can’t get away with,” E chuckles. Yanking open the fridge, he grabs himself a beer and tosses one to Greer before offering one to Tanner.

  “I think I’ve done enough for today.” Sighing, I slip free of Tanner and move toward the back door. “If no one needs me, I think I’ll get some air.”

  Knowing E will more than likely flip his lid if I so much as try to step outside of the gates to go to the beach, I lean into the railing. There is nothing I want more than to drop my ass to the sand and feel the water rush over my legs while I try to make sense of everything that’s happened today. Closing my eyes, I let the breeze blowing in from the lake wash over me. Sadly, peace doesn’t come with the calmness in the early evening air. It only gives way for Vicki’s words to come back and haunt me. They are just as much of a slap to the face bouncing around in my head now, as they were when she was throwing them at me over the phone.

  I let myself believe that since everyone found out about the baby it wouldn’t feel like I was still carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. It should make me feel better knowing that the people surrounding me have my back. I should be happy that Tanner and I seem to be working through our shit and that the tension between all of us is finally dissipating. Instead, I feel like I’m caught in a riptide and can’t catch my breath. The overload of insanity that is my life at the moment has now morphed into something that is now much heavier.

  And the only person to blame for that is me.

  “Hey.” The sound of Tanner’s voice is followed by the slapping of the screen door closing behind him. His arms come around my waist, pulling me back against his body. “You okay?”

  “Not even close,” I sigh, barely recognizing my own voice. Bringing my hands to his forearms, I try my hardest to dismiss the crushing feeling in my chest, only to fail miserably. “This is all my fault and I’ve got no idea how to fix it. I mean, it’s not like I can kick my own ass, now can I?”

  “Can’t let you do that,” he breathes, his lips at my ear. “I’m very attached to your ass.”

  “I’m being serious,” I argue. “I’m too emotional for jokes.”

  Turning me in his arms, he tilts my chin up to catch my eyes. His brows pinch together, eyes soft, but his face stern. “I’m serious as a fuckin’ heart attack, woman,” he fires back, dropping a hand to palm my ass. “Keep making threats and I’ll lay down all kinds of emotional. I’ll even work up some tears.”

  “Have I told you you’re wicked crazy?” I ask, fighting the smile I know he is trying to pull from me.

  “You’ve mentioned it.” His lips twitch, one dimple winking at me. Tucking my hair behind my ear, he runs the tips of his fingers over my cheek, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “What if I said I’m wicked crazy about you?”

  Arms around his shoulders, I push up on my toes, losing the battle with my own smile. “That only proves you’ve leapfrogged right over crazy and into the completely insane territory. Great news is, I own a nice piece of property there.”

  “Great.” His smile widens, eyes warming in the way I have noticed only seem to do for me. “I’ll pack a bag,” he whispers, brushing his lips over mine.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Uninvited Sucker of Souls

  Tanner

  Blasting Godsmack through my headphones, I run along the edge of the water, hoping to burn off some nervous energy and clear my head. The last few days have been spent working on the album, hiding from the press that have now taken up residence in town again, and every one of us jumping nervously every single time anyone’s phone rings. Part of me thinks that Vicki and Boyer are enjoying making us sweat this out.

  At this point we are all about to crack.

  Especially Quinn, who has practically worn the wood stain off the boards of the back porch with her pacing.

  My chest heaves, legs on fire from exertion. My frustration fades a little more with each breath. Unlike the girls and Greer, I haven’t allowed myself to dwell any more than necessary on the fact that the next time the phone rings it could be Frayed Edge telling us AWOL is being dropped from the label. I don’t exactly like thinking about how tomorrow we could wake up and be back where we started years ago.

  Or worse. Having to go our separate ways.

  Rounding the last corner of the beach before Bristol’s house, I spot Quinn up on the second level of the porch, her eyes locked on me. “Hey!” I call out, stopping to punch the code on the gate.

  “Hey, yourself,” she answers back, leaning her body into the railing. “You always run in eighty-degree heat in a black hooded sweatshirt and sunglasses?” she asks, her eyes raking over me.

  “Only way I could get E to give me the new fuckin’ code.” Making sure the gate is secure, I climb the stairs to the second level. Taking off my sunglasses, I rip my sweatshirt over my head and toss them down on the lounger behind her. “There’s camera vans parked down at the other end of the beach.” Glancing over, I yank a hand through my hair. “Not that I’m planning to tell him, but I’m pretty sure I saw a telephoto cyclops in a row boat.”

  “Yeah,” she nods, not seeming surprised. “He’s been out there e
very morning since the day after the video went viral.” She shrugs, her baggy white t-shirt slipping off one shoulder. “I’ve flipped him off about a hundred times.”

  “Only a hundred?” I ask, biting back a laugh. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “Very funny.” Stepping up to me, she traces her fingers along the hem of my shorts. Looking up at me, she licks her lips hungrily. “You’re very sweaty, Tanner.”

  “Yeah. That’ll happen when I run.” Leaning back against the railing, I drop my hands to her hips. “I’m gonna grab a shower before we sit down with Bristol and Greer to rework the chorus on that next track.”

  “Sounds good,” she purrs, pressing her body against mine. “Need me to wash your back, sweetcheeks?”

  I snag her wrist when she slides her hand between us and covers my cock through my shorts. “Quinn,” I warn, my hips jerking involuntarily when she flexes her fingers.

  A car door slams in the distance, but Quinn is completely focused on me, making anything else feel unimportant. “Come on, Tanner,” she taunts, batting her lashes innocently. “I don’t bite unless you say please.”

  “Fuck,” I groan. “Little girl, I’m about two seconds away from fucking you into next week. I highly doubt everyone in this house, along with half the goddamn beach want to hear how loud you can scream my name.”

  The hunger in her eyes blazes like an out of control wildfire. I swallow hard, fighting the urge to bend her over the railing, rip those little shorts from her ass and sink balls deep. Her other hand slides around my neck, fingernails digging into the back of my neck. I hiss out a breath, making her smile. “If you feel like getting rough with me...” Pushing up on her toes, she leans in and nips at my ear. “I’m sure I can find something to bite down on.”

  “Oh, hell no!” Bristol’s scream echoes out the opened French doors. “Nope. Negative. Uh uh. Absolutely no fucking happening!”

  A look of concern passes over Quinn’s face before she turns and hauls ass into the house. Following behind her, I nearly trip over my own feet when I see Vicki standing at the opened front door, big tan designer bag hanging from her shoulder, smug fucking look on her face as she stares down Bristol. Her gray skirt matches the tailored jacket she has on over a blood red blouse. Her long blonde hair pinned back out of her face with a bright red flower, only making her look more frigid than usual.

  Tapping the toe of her expensive black high heeled shoe, she blinks slowly. “Anytime you’re done with your temper tantrum, Miss Lachlan, you can invite me inside,” she says, coolly. “I assure you, I’m not a figment of your imagination. You can’t wish me away like you try to do with everything else you choose not to ignore.”

  “You hop on a plane for six hours every time you feel the need to chat?” Quinn asks, dropping off the bottom step to the floor. Stepping down as well, I drop a hand to my girl’s shoulder, ready to haul her ass out the back door if it means I keep her from delivering the baby in a damn prison cell. “You couldn’t say whatever it is you have to tell us over the phone?”

  Vicki’s head snaps up, her eyes narrowing the moment they hit Quinn. “I think we both know I’d rather be anywhere else in the world at this point in time than on your doorstep.” Pushing past Bristol, she stomps toward us. “That doesn’t make this visit any less necessary I’m afraid. I suggest you remember it is in your best interest to keep that distasteful attitude of yours in check when it comes to interacting with me. I’m afraid I’m far beyond the limitations of my patience when it comes to you.”

  “Excuse me,” Bristol bites out, whipping around on her heel. “I thought vicious blood sucking creatures couldn’t enter people’s homes unless they were invited in.”

  “Be serious, Bristol. She feeds on souls not blood,” Quinn adds, not backing down with Vicki meets her toe to toe. “Well, grab yourself a bendy straw and come get it, sweetheart,” she taunts, swinging her arms out wide. “I’m a two for one.”

  “Don’t lie to that woman,” Evan chuckles. “I read an article in the National Blabber Magazine that said you sold your soul for a chance at porn star stardom years ago.”

  “Well, ya know,” Quinn shrugs, not taking her eyes off Vicki. “It’s hard to say no when they throw in cookies and a bottle of Fireball.”

  “I see we’ve decided not to act like civilized adults,” Vicki counters. “Nevertheless, I’m here. Mr. Boyer felt it best I handle these business matters in person.”

  “Okay, let’s calm fuck down and take a breath.” Wedging himself between them, E stares down at Vicki. "Maybe a shot of whiskey and a valium?”

  “Being that my uterus is being occupied by a fetus that, according to the stupid weekly emails Bristol has sent to me, is the size of an avocado, I can’t have either of those last two,” Quinn bites out through gritted teeth, her fists balling at her sides. “I suggest you educate this bitch and get her the fuck out of my face before I bury her in the sand up to her neck and wait for the tide to come in.” She shoots a glare around Evan’s bicep. “How long do you think you’ll last with that turned up nose?”

  “Babe,” I breathe, squeezing her shoulder. “We need to hear her out before we all go on the attack.”

  “Fine.” Growling, she shakes me off. Walking over to the living room, she drops down onto the blue footstool that matches the big ugly chair in the corner. Crossing one leg over the other, she eyes Vicki expectantly. “Start talking. You’re not the only one who’s low on patience.”

  Clearing her throat, Vicki straightens. Strutting into the living room like she owns the place, she reaches into the black leather bag hanging from her shoulder, retrieves a clipped stack of paperwork and drops it onto the coffee table. “You write a book?” I ask, dropping down into the chair behind Quinn. Leaning forward, I drape my arms over her shoulders, pulling her back against my chest. Partially because I will use any excuse to get my hands on this woman. Also, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared in case she launches at Vicki and tries to claw her eyes out over whatever she’s come here to say.

  “This is everything that has been published on AWOL in the last year.” Reaching into her jacket pocket, she produces a flash drive. Holding it up between her thumb and index finger, she lets out an exasperated sigh. “This is everything we have managed to sweep under the rug.” Tossing it down on top of the stack of pages, she crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m afraid the printed version wouldn’t fit in my carry on.”

  “It’ll make one hell of a scrapbook,” Evan laughs, earning him an icy stare from Vicky. “I could use a hobby to fill all my spare time.”

  “You may need to break it down a bit better than that, Vick,” Bristol chimes in, coming to a stop in the doorway. “I’m not sure what you’re after with this whole presentation. Are you expecting a thank you card and a fruit basket because you’ve done the job you were hired to do?”

  “You hopped on a damn plane to present a stack of gossip rag bullshit to us like you’re in front of a grand jury,” Greer chuckles, swiping up the papers. Flipping through them, he shakes his head. “Half of this rumor mill bullshit couldn’t be helped if we tried.”

  “What I am doing is explaining exactly how much is done to keep everything you do from being plastered across every single media outlet across the world,” she fires back. “Mr. Boyer has given me the go ahead with a few options. It’s up to you on how you move forward.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Bristol asks.

  “Sounds like a threat to me,” Quinn huffs, her body going rigid in my arms.

  “Take it however you choose.” Vicki looks down at Quinn. “You should know not every option on the table ends with Absent Without Leave still continuing on with Frayed Edge Records. You should also know that if you part ways with the label, you will be responsible for reimbursement of all costs incurred by Frayed Edge thus far for production and promotion of Barely Bruised. Given the fact that I’m only here because Mr. Boyer wants to make this work for all involved as a common courtesy,
I suggest you dial down the attitude and discuss your options like an adult.” She smirks. “After all, it is you as a group that has the most to lose if the contracts are terminated.”

  “Well,” Quinn blurts, rolling her eyes. “If one of those options involves sucking your—” The rest of her sentence is muffled through my fingers when I clamp my hand over her mouth.

  Grabbing onto my wrist, Quinn licks my hand before sinking her teeth into the rounded edge of my palm. “Ow, shit!” Yanking my hand away, I shake it out, trying to dull the sting. “What’s Boyer’s plan?”

  “Things cannot go on as they have been,” Vicki begins. “That much is blatantly clear.” Turning on her heel, she clasps her hands behind her back and paces the length of the living room. “If you choose not to walk away from the contract as I previously mentioned you can do, you have two options. One, I become your shadow. Meaning, I would travel with you throughout the remaining time of your contract. You would do exactly as I say, when I say, without any argument or question of my choices or methods. The first of which will require replacement of your current security detail with an entirely new team of men that I choose personally.”

  “Excuse me?” Bristol and Quinn bark out at the same time, both of them ready to pounce on her.

  “And option three?” Greer asks, attempting to move the conversation forward without violence.

  Stopping in front of us, her eyes land on Quinn. “We take the necessary steps to begin replacing band members.”

  “Not fucking happening,” Greer and I growl in unison. Releasing my grip on Quinn, I push to my feet. “AWOL stays as is. With or without you and the goddamn label. I’d sooner walk away now and lose everything I’ve got than replace any person in this room.” My stare hardens. “Unless that person is you.”

  “I’ve got a hard time believing this is how Mr. Boyer wanted things laid out for us,” Bristol tosses out, yanking her phone out of her pocket. “How about we give him a call and see what he has to say?”