by Emery Rose
But the dream was lost, and he hadn’t chased me like I’d hoped.
A few minutes later, when sleep wouldn’t return, a thought infiltrated my foggy brain.
What if that had been Brody calling me?
I bolted upright in bed and flicked on the light then swiped my phone off the bedside table.
Brody.
My heart ricocheted off the walls of my chest. It had been one week since he left me in the airport. I took a few deep breaths and tried to contain my excitement. He’d changed his mind about us. He must have. Why else would he be calling? With shaky hands, I pressed call and lifted the phone to my ear.
“Hey Shy.”
“Hey Cowboy.” My voice sounded scratchy like it always did the morning after a performance. I cleared my throat and propped the pillows against the headboard then leaned against them and waited to hear why he was calling me at eight in the morning.
“I’ve been thinking… what if—”
“Yes.” I cut him off, not waiting to hear what he was going to say. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He laughed, a low rumble that reached deep inside me and made me feel all warm and tingly. It was so good to hear his laughter and his voice again. It felt like a million years ago since I’d last heard it. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“I read your mind.”
“And what was I thinking, Shiloh?”
I drew my legs to my chest and told him what I was thinking. “You were thinking that you missed me. That your life is emptier without me. You were thinking that our six weeks together was one of the best times in your life and you don’t want it to end. You were thinking… what if we called and texted? What if you were to fly to the ends of the earth just to spend a day or two or ten with me? What if you met me in London and New York and L.A. and all the other towns and cities in between? And what if every song I sang was just for you? What if… what if… what if…” I let my voice trail off.
My words were met with silence. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath, waiting for his response.
After a few agonizing seconds he finally said, “I guess you really are a mind reader.”
Relief washed over me. I released my breath and the tension in my body. “I miss you, Brody. It’s so good to hear your voice.”
“Right back at you. Where are you waking up today?”
“It’s Monday. This must be Dublin.” I walked over to the windows and drew the curtains, letting some light into the room—a modern space with blond wood, white Egyptian cotton bedding, and plush gray carpeting. Dublin was overcast, the sky hazy gray and cloudy.
“What are you doing right now?” I asked him. I threw open the doors, letting the fresh air into the temperature-controlled room and stepped onto my private balcony. The temperature was cooler here than it had been in Texas.
“Right now? I’m picturing you in bed wearing one of those silky numbers.”
I looked down at Brody’s T-shirt. I’d stolen two of them and the flannel shirt I took from the tack room the night Phoenix was born. “Turns out I’m wearing an old T-shirt. Sorry to burst your bubble.”
“Yeah, well, that’s the thing about having a good imagination. I can picture you any way I want.”
I took a seat on a mint green cushioned lounger. Tucking my legs underneath me, I watched a ferry churning up the water of the River Liffey while I listened to his voice in my ear. I pictured him on the ranch with his horses, the sky so big and blue, the rolling hills so green, the sun shining on his dirty blond hair and suntanned skin.
“Like, right now I’m picturing you naked with my head between your legs,” he said. “Fucking you with my hands and mouth and tongue. Biting your swollen clit. Licking you from slit to crack and everywhere in between. Mmm… I can taste you on my tongue. Sweeter than honey. Smoother than whiskey. My very favorite dessert.”
His words had me squirming in my seat and clenching my thighs. Damn you, Brody. “Did you call me for phone sex?”
He chuckled softly. “Nah. I called to thank you. But you shouldn’t have spent all that money on sound equipment for Ridge.”
Brody didn’t sound angry, probably because I’d done it for Ridge. And Brody cared about his brother’s happiness. “It was my way of saying thank you after what he did for me.”
“You didn’t owe him anything.”
“I wanted to do it. I had to talk him into keeping it.”
“You talked to Ridge?”
“He texted me.”
He was quiet for a beat. “He’s thinking he wants to be a DJ now.”
“Ridge can be anything he wants.”
“Yeah, he can. Are you doing okay, Shy?”
“Better now that I’m talking to you.”
“What happened with Dean the douche?”
Dean the douche. Accurate. “Did you Google me?”
“Shouldn’t have but yeah, I did.”
My shoulders sagged in disappointment. I wouldn’t have expected Brody to resort to those measures. “So instead of calling me to ask how I was… instead of getting the story firsthand, you thought you’d search the internet for answers?” I couldn’t hide the hurt and anger in my voice.
“Like I said, I never claimed to be all that smart.”
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know. But just do me a favor and don’t look me up again. Everything gets twisted, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. I was a dumb shit for getting my information from the internet. Won’t do it again. Now tell me what happened.” He paused. “Unless you’re busy… didn’t even think to ask if this is a good time.”
“It’s a perfect time.” I was meeting my personal trainer at nine, so I had an hour to myself. “I had to stop myself from calling you at least a hundred times,” I admitted, spinning my thumb ring around with my index finger. “Maybe more.”
“What would you have said if you’d called me?”
“I would have said that you’re a bonehead for letting me go.”
“And you would have been right.”
I smirked. “I usually am.”
He laughed at that one.
Curiosity prompted me to ask, “What made you change your mind?”
“I came to the conclusion that you’re worth fighting for. And what we had was never just sex.”
I leaned back against the cushion, my lips tugging into a smile, my stomach flipping. God, he had no idea how happy those words made me. “Took you long enough. I could have told you that from the start.”
“Nobody likes a smart-ass,” he growled. I laughed. “Now tell me about Dean the douche.”
“I’ll tell you about Dean if you promise to set a date for when I can see you next,” I countered.
“Deal.”
My brows shot up in surprise. He’d answered without a moment’s hesitation. “Wow. That was easy,” I couldn’t resist saying. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. I already made up my mind before I called.”
“What exactly did you make up your mind about?”
“That I was going to spend as much time as I could with you. And try to figure out a way to make this work.”
My heart stuttered and I held my hand over it. Why couldn’t he have said that in the airport and spared me a week of heartache?
“Now start talking,” he prompted.
I sighed. Brody was protective so I already knew he wasn’t going to like this. But I told him the whole truth, repeating most of the conversation I’d had with Dean and Landry at the café in L.A. When I finished telling my story, I waited for him to gather his thoughts and speak.
“Let me get this straight. You’re going to be on tour for three months with your ex-boyfriend?”
I heard the accusation in his tone and didn’t appreciate it. “Yes. But Dean and I are over. Our relationship ended long before I left him. This is just about the music.”
“Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that.”
I bit my tongue and refrained
from reminding him that he’d left me in the airport with no hope for a future together. That wasn’t the point. My relationship with Brody had nothing to do with my decision to help out Landry. “I’m not doing this for Dean. I’m doing it for Landry. He’s my only family. He’s my brother.” Surely that was something Brody should understand. He would do anything for Ridge. “And I owe him so much,” I added.
He was quiet for a few seconds. “Yeah, I get that he’s family. But if he’s making you feel like you owe him for being a half-decent brother and doing what any older brother would do—”
“He doesn’t.” I cut him off, immediately jumping to Landry’s defense. “It’s not like that. This is just me saying that I owe him a lot.”
“Well, good. Glad to hear it.” Although he made it sound like he was the opposite of glad, his tone brusque like he’d already made up his mind about Landry without ever having met him.
“You don’t feel like Ridge owes you anything for taking him in?” As soon as the words were out, I wanted to retract the question.
“Hell no. He doesn’t owe me a damn thing. Does he feel that way? Did he say anything to you?”
“No,” I said quickly, trying to reassure him. Clearly, this was my issue, and had nothing to do with him and Ridge. “He never said anything like that to me. And I know you’d never make him feel that way. Ridge thinks you’re pretty great.”
Brody chuckled. “Pretty sure he never said that. You’re just putting words in his mouth now.”
I smiled a little. “I’m good at reading between the lines. It’s what he wants to say but guys aren’t so great at sharing their feelings with each other.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
I laughed. “Can’t handle all those pesky emotions, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. Tell me what your day looks like.”
“Hmm, let’s see. I’ll eat breakfast. Oatmeal, fresh fruit, tea with lemon and honey.”
“Tea?”
“Decaf.”
“A rock star diet.”
I laughed. “Exactly. Then I’ll work out with my personal trainer. After that, I’ll probably have a healthy smoothie followed by a massage. This afternoon I’m flying to Glasgow. Then I have a soundcheck. I’ll eat a light meal. Protein and carbs, no dairy. Then it’s on to hair, makeup and wardrobe, and I’ll get so nervous I’ll think I’m going to throw up…”
“And will you?” He sounded so genuinely interested, like he wanted to know every detail of my day and how I spent my time. Which was so sweet. But I guess I had the advantage here. I’d been introduced to his world, but he’d never spent any time in mine.
“Not usually, no. It’s just nervous jitters. Then it’s show time.”
“And how will that feel?”
“Like I’m ten feet tall and bulletproof.” I smiled at the memory of Noah saying that to Brody the morning I showed up to make smoothies.
“I bet when you’re up on that stage, you really are ten feet tall and bulletproof. I bet you shine so bright. You always did. Even when you were here in Texas without the stage lights.”
God, sometimes he was so damn sweet. I didn’t think most people got to see this charming side of Brody. A wave of longing washed over me, and I rubbed my hand over my heart. Now that he’d called me, saying all these sweet words, I missed him even more than I’d been missing him for the past week. “Wish you were here, Cowboy,” I said softly.
“Me too.”
We talked for another twenty minutes about everything and nothing until I had to say goodbye and get started with my day. Thankfully, he didn’t circle back to the conversation about Dean and Landry.
Before we hung up, we decided to meet in London in August for the final week of my European leg of the tour. Two months seemed like a long way off, but it was the soonest he could get away and it would work out in our favor. I’d have him for an entire week, and even better, for the last four days we’d be in the south of France for a mini-vacation at the villa Bastian had rented while he was on tour in Europe. From there, I’d head to Rio and Brody would return to Texas.
Funny how I was already feeling sad about leaving him before we’d even had a chance to be together again. But as it turned out, our relationship would be a long series of hellos and goodbyes. It was one of the many things we had to learn to deal with if we wanted to be together. And we did. We both wanted it so much.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brody
August - London
The silver Mercedes pulled up in front of the hotel and I stared at the imposing red brick façade complete with fucking turrets. According to the driver, we were in Knightsbridge. Might as well have been Buckingham Palace. A bellhop in red tails and a black top hat stood on the hotel steps in front of a hanging basket of geraniums. I felt like I was going to meet the Queen for tea.
“Good luck, mate.”
I was starting to think I’d need it. I thanked the driver who’d been sent to pick me up at Heathrow after my overnight flight and grabbed my duffel bag from the seat next to me. It held everything I needed and fit the requirements for carry-on luggage. During my rodeo days, I’d traveled a lot, but I’d never been to London and never in my fucking life had I set foot in a place as fancy as this.
As per Shiloh’s instructions, I’d texted her when I landed, and I’d texted her when we were five minutes from the hotel, so she knew to expect me. Here goes nothing.
A duffel bag slung over my shoulder, I walked through the front door, feeling every bit like the guy in that Garth Brooks song “I’ve Got Friends in Low Places.”
Instead of my usual boots, I was wearing black leather high tops, but I still felt like I’d brought the dirt and grit of my Texas horse ranch with me. I stopped in the marble lobby under a funky chandelier, and searched for Shiloh, unsure what the fuck I was supposed to do next. A few guests were milling around near the reception desk, and a well-dressed older couple passed me on their way to the front door. The woman lifted her nose in the air like she’d smelled something bad.
“May I help you, sir?” a man at the reception desk asked in his prim and proper British accent. One look at me and I was pretty sure he’d already figured out I didn’t belong in this gilt and marble lobby that reeked of money and breeding.
Before I had a chance to answer, a guy built like a tank, with a shaved head wearing a black T-shirt, made a beeline for me. “You must be Brody.” I nodded. “I’m James.” He lowered his voice and spoke in hushed tones so as not to be overheard by the other guests. “I’m on Miss Leroux’s security detail. She asked me to escort you to her room.”
A flash of annoyance crossed my face. Why hadn’t Shiloh come down to greet me herself? James handed me a cardboard envelope containing a card key to the room. “Right this way.” He ushered me up a marble staircase with a brass railing and we stopped in front of the elevators. James pressed the button and I stared at the doors, waiting for them to open.
“I’m sure I can find it on my own.”
“I’m sure you can but I’ll accompany you.”
He stepped into the elevator with me and we rode up in silence. When the elevator stopped, we stepped out and I followed him down the carpeted hallway. Two men were in the hallway, and I assumed they were more security detail for Miss Leroux.
Before I had a chance to knock on the door, it flew open. “Cowboy!” She threw herself into my arms, damn near knocking me over.
From behind me, I heard someone chuckle. I lifted Shiloh off the ground and her legs wrapped around my waist as I carried her further into the room, my duffel bag hitting the floor with a thud.
“Thanks, James,” she called over my shoulder.
“No prob—”
I kicked the door shut before he’d even gotten the words out and slammed her against the wall next to the door. She let out a little gasp. I crushed my lips against hers and slid my tongue inside her mouth, kissing her like I was starving and half-crazed from missing her. Both accur
ate. Fuck, she felt so good in my arms, her tits pressed against my chest, my dick getting hard as she rolled her hips and I grinded against her sweet little body, my tongue stroking the most sensitive parts of her mouth. Diving in and exploring, reminding myself of the taste of her. Her jasmine scent washed over me, every bit as intoxicating as I remembered.
She pulled back from our kiss and cradled my face in her hands, both of us taking a few moments to catch our breath and take in any changes since the last time we’d set eyes on each other. I consoled myself with the knowledge that even though her surroundings were more luxurious, she looked the same as I remembered. Stormy grays fringed by thick black lashes, high cheekbones and full lips lifted into a smile.
No, that’s a goddamn lie. She looked even more beautiful than I remembered. I gave her a soft kiss on the lips. “Hi.”
She laughed. “Hi.” She touched my face, and I dipped my head to kiss the side of her neck and brush my lips over her jaw.
“I can’t believe you’re really here.” Her voice was hushed.
Neither could I. Still holding her in my arms, I turned us around and advanced into the room, taking it all in for the first time since I’d arrived. It looked like a rich person’s living room. A funky chandelier hung over the purple velvet sofa and gray velvet chairs arranged around a marble coffee table, and a gilt-framed mirror hung above a brown marble fireplace. Directly across from us, French doors opened onto a balcony with a white balustrade and the only view I could see from here was blue skies and a lot of green.
“Slumming it, huh?”
She laughed, her legs cinching more tightly around my waist and her arms wrapped around my neck. “Don’t be fooled by my surroundings. I’m still the same girl you met in Texas. Nothing has changed.”
But she wasn’t the same girl I met. She was different here. And London … Paris… the South of France… it changed everything.
“I ordered room service.”