by BB Miller
“If you say so.” I smile wistfully. “You can sing for me anytime. I love your voice.” I would never want to screw with the dynamics of the band, but it frustrates me sometimes how Matt automatically defers to his bandmates, and how he merely considers himself lucky to be a part of the group, as opposed to truly believing he’s just as responsible for their success as the others. It was fascinating to watch the four of them interact during the planning for Parker’s benefit concert, as well as the show itself. Kennedy, Cam, and Sean all listened carefully to what Matt said and made sure he weighed in before making any decisions. It seemed obvious to me that they believe Matt is an essential part of Redfall. They respect him as a talent and as a man. As for Matt, sometimes it seems that he’s just grateful they let him tag along.
It works for them, I guess, and I don’t want to push him into something he isn’t comfortable doing. I simply wish I could help him see in himself the extraordinary man that everyone else sees.
What I see.
He climbs out and comes around to my side of the Camaro. “I’m partial to your voice, too. Especially when you’re screaming my name in the middle of the night.”
“Keep it up and your memories are all you’ll have.” I slip my hands around his neck. He’s deflecting, and I let him. Rome wasn’t built in a day.
His lips graze my neck, and I shiver reflexively. It’s like the man is a drug my body can’t get enough of. “You love it when I keep it up.” He flexes his hips, letting me feel what’s beginning to stir in his jeans. “Shall we go upstairs and give you a reminder?”
“Yes, let’s.”
Hand in hand, we climb the ridiculous stairway—which takes longer than usual because we keep stopping to make out and grope each other like a couple of teenagers—up to his loft. If he had an elevator from the garage like the one from the main lobby, we’d probably already be naked. He flings the metal door open with a crash, and I giggle as he drags me to the couch, almost colliding into the enormous Christmas tree. Clothing is peeled off between playful yet passionate kisses, and finally I have his smooth, colorfully decorated skin under my hands.
He pulls me to his lap, and we both let out groans of relief when I sink down onto him. The mood shifts; his touch becomes more desperate, and his arms wrapped around me are like steel bands. My head drops back as I savor the feeling of absolute fullness—it’s overwhelming sometimes. He’s the total package—a generous heart, brilliant mind, and passionate soul. My heart swells with love and it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him how I feel. But, the sudden vulnerability I see in his eyes stops me.
“Why can’t I ever get enough of this, of you?” he mumbles against my lips.
I’m not sure he wants an answer. Instead of using words, I try to show him how I feel with my lips, hands, and body.
I hope he can hear me.
“Do you want to move to the bed?”
I shake my head where it rests in the crook of his shoulder. I can’t remember ever being this relaxed. We’re lying on the floor on a pile of cushions and pillows we pulled off the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket and each other. The scent of evergreen fills the large room. Twinkle lights on the tree are the only illumination, and they sparkle above us like so many stars.
“Do you want to?”
He presses a soft kiss to my temple. “I don’t want to move from this spot. Possibly ever.” He pulls me closer, and I snuggle in with a happy contentment. His hand closes over my left breast and he gives it a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure himself it’s still there. Matt has a thing about my boobs. I swear, sometimes it’s like he wants to set up camp there, but you won’t find me complaining. “Will you tell me what upset you earlier at the home?”
Rats. I was hoping he’d forget about that. Trying to relax as inconspicuously as possible, I hum and trace random circles on his arm. “What makes you think I was upset?”
He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Cardinal.”
“It was nothing.” I duck my face, ashamed of myself, and wish I could take back my earlier weird little moment of déjà vu.
Everything had been fine. Aaron and I had been laughing with a couple of the kids in the garage before coming back inside, and then, there was something about that kid, Zach. The set of his shoulders and the way he tilted his head when he leered at me. The first thing that hit me was that he was the biker that followed me that day Matt’s car was keyed. Which is completely ridiculous. Whoever it was wore a full helmet.
Jumping to conclusions, especially about someone who Tom is trying so hard to work with, is grossly unfair of me. Matt had to fight the same type of presumptions when he was growing up, still does in some ways. I know Zach is a handful, and he’s giving Tom a major headache, but he needs people to believe in him and show a little faith, not make baseless accusations.
I hate that my mind automatically went there the instant I met him.
“What?” With a finger under my chin, Matt gently draws my face up to his. His eyes are full of concern, protectiveness even, which makes me feel even guiltier.
“Nothing, really.” I smile up at him. “So, you’re occupied tomorrow afternoon, it sounds like?”
He gives me a measured stare. When I don’t break, he purses his lips and releases my chin. “Yeah. Hopefully we’ll be able to make some progress, both with the bike and the kids.”
“You don’t sound very confident.”
“Some of them are tough nuts to crack.” He shifts, bringing our heads closer together on the pillows. “I can appreciate Tom’s tenacity where I was concerned much more now. I must have driven him crazy back then.”
A chuckle escapes me. “Just back then?” My chuckle becomes a shriek, and I try to twist away from his sudden tickle attack. He stops just as fast as he started and pulls me against his chest.
“Do you want to come with me tomorrow?”
I look at him with surprise. “I didn’t think you really liked having me there.”
“I loved having you there,” he says with a touch of exasperation, his fingers gripping my hip a little harder. “But I don’t want you to be there without me. Especially in the garage.”
“Seriously?” I shift on the cushions and raise my chin in challenge. “Besides Aaron and Tom, there are a bunch of staffers there. What could happen?”
“Tess,” he says, realizing his mistake, but not his peril. “You don’t know these kids like I do. You’re like a red flag waved in front of a bull.”
Sweeping a strand of hair out of my eyes, I look down, pretending to be hurt. As I hoped, he raises his arm to slip it around my shoulders. “I should know; you always make me feel—Ah!”
His whole body lurches as I swiftly grab the pressure point in the soft inside of his bicep, just above the crease in his elbow. I release him just as quickly, and he stares at me with amazement and just a hint of betrayal, rubbing his arm. “Holy shit that hurt.”
“You’ve met my dad. Can you believe he’d release three daughters to the world without teaching them a few things? I can take care of myself.”
He chuckles and, somewhat gingerly, slips his arm around my waist. “Point taken.”
I trace my finger over some of the swirls of ink on his shoulder. “Back to your question. I’d love to go, but I can’t take the time off. There are some things I need to make sure are on track.” I’m still very new to my job, and although Abby is very free with vacation requests around the holidays, I want to show that I’m responsible.
He hums in satisfaction. “It’ll be quite a shock for some of those high society–types when I show up with you on my arm at the gala. I think they’ve always expected me to bring a groupie in a slutty dress they can gossip over later.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure I own anything slutty enough,” I tease. “I’ll have to work on that.”
He flips me over so he’s on top, startling a squeak from me. “Not too much skin, Cardinal.” His eyes darken as they bore into mine. My skin heats; I can feel a sl
ow flush spread across my neck. “I don’t give a shit what anyone expects. No one gets to see your special places but me.”
Everything south of my navel clenches at the gritty sound of his voice. “No worries; I have just the thing.” My head lolls back as he starts kissing down my jaw to my ear. I love the dichotomy between the strength in his arms as he holds me captive and the tenderness in his kisses.
“If you were worried about something important, something about you and me, you’d tell me, right? I know that neither of us have had much in the way of real relationships, but even I know we need to feel comfortable talking about the big things if we’re going to make a go of this.”
My twinge of guilt is quickly smothered by a rush of emotion at the shy sincerity in his voice. I cup his cheeks and gently raise his face so I can look into his eyes. “If it’s important, I will tell you. Big, small, and everything in between.”
As soon as I get the nerve.
The next morning, I’m floating on a Matt Logan high. It’s quiet in the office, with most of the staff out until after the new year starts, so I only get a few funny looks as I drift through the halls like a lovesick schoolgirl.
Nadia’s assistant walked out with her, so I’m on my own until I find a replacement. Nibbling on my thumbnail, my thoughts are on a certain bass player rather than the stack of résumés I’m sorting. He’s just so damn sweet. Even in the throes of passion, there’s always a tender touch or word to show me he’s connected, that he’s right there with me, every step of the way. It was hard to leave him this morning. Closing my eyes, I can easily picture his lean, muscled back as he lay in bed, the sheets pooled down around his waist …
“Anybody home?”
Startled out of my lustful thoughts, I glance up and beam at the familiar bald man peeking in my open door. “Tom! Wow, it’s great to see you.” Standing swiftly, I step over to give him a quick hug as he enters my office. I eagerly look beyond him, expecting to see Matt, but there’s no one there. Although I’m happy to see Tom, I’m confused as to why he’d be here, unless …
“Is everything okay?” I ask urgently, gripping his forearm. “Where is—”
“Matt should be at the group home by now, probably with a boatload of pizza,” he says with a gentle smile. I release him with a mumbled apology, but he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it; in fact, your concern is reassuring.”
Puzzled, I finally remember my manners and gesture for him to sit down at the small table I use for meetings. “Well, how can I help you?” I query as I sit down across from him.
He tents his hands on the table. “I’m sorry to show up unannounced. I wanted to wait until I knew he’d be occupied so we could have a little chat.”
My eyes shoot open, and my stomach twists in knots. I knew our first meeting went too well. Was this to be the sort of grilling that my dad gave Matt?
I wait for him to begin and steel myself. “Tess, you’re a lovely girl, and based on the way Matt was looking at you during Christmas, it seems he thinks so, too.” He watches me carefully. “There’s a spark in his eyes that I haven’t seen in a long, long time. If ever.”
I know Matt cares for me, but I haven’t allowed myself to believe that it may be as serious for him as it is for me. Hearing Tom’s candid assessment is heartening. But my nerves return when Tom runs a hand over his shaved head.
“How much has Matt told you about his growin’-up years?”
“Some,” I say quietly, looking down at my hands in my lap. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m uncomfortable talking about Matt’s past behind his back. “He’s told me the basics about his mom and that he was shuffled around foster homes before ending up in the group home. I’m sure there’s probably more. But I respect his privacy. I hope he’ll tell me someday when he’s ready.”
He holds up a hand. “I’m not here to tell tales that aren’t mine to tell,” he clarifies. “But I did want to give you a little perspective.”
Stroking his goatee, he gathers his thoughts. “Matt is my son. He’s a gifted musician and a celebrity, but first and foremost my son. One I never thought I’d have.” His leather jacket rustles as he leans back in his chair. “My wife and I weren’t able to have children, so we focused on the kids that came and went through the group home in LA. We tried to give them what we could. It became even more important to me after I lost her. She would’ve loved Matt.” He glances past me with a faraway gleam in his eye.
“Anyway, what I wanted to say is that before he met me, Matt had no one in his corner. Even while his mom was still alive, he was essentially on his own. And the foster system is so strapped for resources, kids just can’t get the dedicated attention they need. He was so wary of me at first. He drove me nuts, the little shit.” He chuckles, his smile reminiscent. I try to imagine a younger, smart-mouthed Matt, pushing Tom’s buttons then like he pushes mine now. “It took me ages to get him to trust me,” he continues. “But I wouldn’t give up.”
“Why not?” The question escapes me before I can stop it, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Because there was something about him. Something special behind all the bravado and anger and hurt that called to me.” Tom’s gray eyes seem to laser right through me. “I hope you know what I mean.”
I nod, my throat closing up. I know exactly what he means. “Tess.” Tom leans forward, covering my hands on the table with one of his larger, rougher ones. “My point is that I hope you’re serious about this. Believe me, I know his reputation. There have only been a couple girls in his life that Matt’s mentioned to me more than once, and you’re the only girl I’ve actually met, besides Fletcher’s niece back when he was nineteen. This should tell you something.
“I’m not saying you have to get married and have a bunch of babies.” My breath catches at the thought, which somehow isn’t quite as terrifying as I used to think. “But I hope that it’s real. Not some fling you’re just trying on like a new dress. You don’t seem like that type of girl, and I do trust Matt’s judgement.” He frowns and he shakes his head, as though irritated with himself. “He’s had enough disappointment and people using him for whatever they can get out of him. He needs someone besides me and the guys in the band to be in his corner.”
I return his steady, probing gaze. “It is real. At least, it is for me.” I slide my hands out from under his and sit back, crossing my arms protectively. Matt would die of embarrassment to know Tom was saying all this, and I’m sure Tom knows it. It says a lot about Tom’s genuine affection and concern for Matt that he’d risk his wrath coming here. Throwing caution to the wind, I finally whisper, “I … I love him.”
Tom’s eyes flare in surprise and he rubs his whiskered chin. “Have you told him?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. It never seems like the right time. I don’t want him to feel pressured to say it back if he doesn’t.” I toy with the button on my jacket sleeve. Saying it out loud makes my excuses sound so childish. Glancing up at him, I see only understanding instead of the censure I expect.
“I don’t think there is a right time for telling someone you love them. It just happens.” He sits back, a smile playing about his lips. “I had just picked her up from a babysitting job when my wife told me for the first time. I almost crashed us into a palm tree.”
I return his smile hesitantly. He makes it sound so easy.
A small bird lands on the ledge outside my window, drawing our attention. “Matt told me what happened with your sister,” he adds, keeping his eyes on the bird as it hops around. “As tragic as a loss like that is, it can also inspire you to treasure every moment of your life—and the people who are in it.”
The bird flies off again, and he returns his gray-eyed gaze to mine. “Yes, it can,” I murmur, swallowing down the sudden lump in my throat.
After giving me one more measured look, he nods to himself. “Well, I’ve taken enough of your time.” He slaps his hands on his knees before standing. I spring up and walk with him toward the doo
r. “I hope you don’t think I’m an overbearing assho—” He grimaces. “That I’m a jerk, for coming here today.”
“Of course not. You worry about him, like any parent should. And you want him to be happy. I want that for him, too. But we’ve only been together a short time. I don’t want to scare him by just blurting it out. Besides, this is new for me, as well. What I feel for Matt is different.” I squirm a little at revealing myself before this man I barely know, but who knows Matt better than anyone.
“I understand that now. I think you’re just the person—” The sound of a motorcycle revving blares from inside his worn jacket. “Oh, excuse me.” With a small grin, he pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the text. His grin evaporates.
“What is it?”
“I’ve got to go. There’s something goin’ on at the home.” He avoids looking at me, making my stomach plummet.
“Is it about Matt?” His jaw clenches, answering me without words. “Tom, what’s happened?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary, unfortunately. Just Zach raising a little hell. Again.” He shakes his head and tucks his phone back in his pocket. Seeing my worried frown, he gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “The kids are always getting into scraps. No biggie.”
“All right.” I fold my arms and try to smile, but I can’t help my worry. “I hope it’s not too bad, whatever it is.”
Tom nods, obviously eager to get moving. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He starts to head out the door, but stops and throws me a teasing wink so much like Matt’s, I’d swear he was his biological father. “Besides, you have bigger worries—like how to tell my son you’re in love with him.”
With that, he turns and hurries down the hall, leaving me gawking in his wake.
Matt
TWO HOURS IN and the garage at the group home is buzzing with energy. Aaron and I have kept busy trying to channel the erratic behavior of some of these teens. They seemed to be doing better before Zach got here.