Fame And Secrets (Lords Of Lyre Book 2)

by Cora Kenborn

  He remained quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Well, if it’s a girl, I think the obvious choice is a tribute to the child’s gorgeous parent.”

  I lowered my head. “Julian, I can’t…”

  “Julia,” he said with a definitive nod of his head.

  “Julia?” I drew the word out, my mouth accentuating each syllable. “Gorgeous parent, huh?”

  He released my hair and flopped onto his back, grinning. “Well, I don’t want to toot my own horn…”

  “But you will.”

  “Hey, Chatter feeds don’t lie, baby. My public polled me against your precious Channing Tatum.”

  “And?” It was all I could do to hold in the giggle.

  “Magic Mike needs some new tricks, princess. I kicked his ass by sixty-three percent of the vote.”

  I couldn’t hold it in, I full-on belly laughed with tears and ugly snorts. Calming, I rested my hands on my belly. “Yeah, but Julia?”

  “What’s wrong with Julia? It’s classic.”

  “Nothing, but if it’s a girl, I want her to have her own name.” Not that I didn’t love Julian’s family, but I envisioned something unique.

  “All right,” he said thoughtfully. “This will be the only time you’ll ever hear these words without a fist behind it, but what if you have another penis inside you?”

  “I honestly have no clue.” I grimaced.

  “What about honoring your mother?” When I gave him a strange look he grabbed my hand, entwining our fingers. “What about Ryan?” I pulled my hand away from him as if I’d touched fire. “Phoebe? What—”

  “No!” I yelled, not necessarily at him, but at the suggestion. “I don’t want this baby having stigma from my family attached to it. Not even from my mother. It’s a curse, Julian.” It wasn’t until I’d stopped yelling that I realized I’d started shaking. Julian wrapped his arms around me and kissed my temple.

  “I understand. No family names. I wasn’t thinking. It’s fine. Cletus will have a name all his or her own.”

  Pausing mid-sniffle, I turned my head and stared. “Cletus? Excuse me, Cletus?”

  He rewarded me with a wide grin. “Well, since we haven’t known for a long time what this little one is, I, uh, I kind of nicknamed it Cletus the Fetus.” He bit his lip sheepishly.

  I wrinkled my nose and snorted again. “Oh my god, that might be the dumbest, most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. I fucking love it.”

  The chuckle deep from his chest made me grin. “Honestly, Phoebe, I don’t care what it is. But if it’s a girl, I hope she looks like you.”

  “Me? I thought you were the poll destroyer here, Magic Julian?”

  “Seriously, I’d want her to be a miniature version of you. Plus, I’d get to be the most important man in her life for a long time and a giant asshole to any man who tried to date her.”

  I propped my chin up as a thought crossed my mind. “What about a boy?”

  “What about him?”

  “So, you’re a double standard type dad, huh? If he’s a man-whore, he’s a stud?”

  Julian folded his hands behind his head and grinned. “Princess, I don’t make the rules, I just abide by them. Cletus will be king among chicks.”

  “Julian, we were joking about the name.”

  “Well, let’s just ask the baby, shall we?” Tightening his hands around me, he dropped his lips to my belly. “So, Little Bale, what do you think about Cletus? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  “Do you really think it’s going to answer you? I mean, you’re just trying…” The rest of the sentence caught in my throat as I looked up at Julian with wide eyes. “Oh god! Did you…”

  “Feel that?” he finished for me.

  One look into his eyes centered me. “I think it just answered you.” I waited and got rewarded with another jab.

  “Jesus, that was fucking amazing. I mean, shit, I didn’t mean to say fuck. I mean damn it, I said shit too. God, this parenting thing is hard.” The confused look on his face, coupled with the irritation at his fondness for the F-bomb, had my explosive laughter shaking my entire upper body until it infected him too. We collapsed as hysterical laughter consumed us until we couldn’t breathe. “Whatever the gender, Phoebe, I want it to have your heart, your ambition, and most definitely your snarkism.”

  “Snarkism isn’t a word, Julian.”

  “I rest my case,” he muttered as we both drifted back to sleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Julian

  “Damn it!” Fumbling on the third try at tying the straps on the shoulders of her dress, she blew a stray piece of hair out of her eyes and attempted a fourth time. Amused, I took the straps out of her hand and tied them with ease. “Interesting.” She casted a side glance at me. “You look like you’ve done that before, Mr. Bale.”

  My smirk widened. “It’s much easier the other way.”

  She gave a spin and held her hands out for inspection. “So, am I presentable?”

  Slipping my hands over her ass, I pulled her to me, my chest colliding against her soft curves. Immediately, I bounced backward as her belly ricocheted off my belt. Both of us looked down in surprise. Smiling wistfully, she ran her hand over her stomach and shrugged in defeat.

  “I guess when you said nothing would come between us, you didn’t anticipate this, huh?

  “No, but I think this is one person who can come between us any time they want.” She met my stare and I placed a delicate, soft kiss on her bottom lip.

  “Where’s the closest beach?” she blurted out unexpectedly.

  The question struck me as odd. “Why?”

  She pursed her lips and looked away. “There’s just something I need to do.”

  “Phoebe, it’s not safe for you to be out wandering beaches by yourself. No secrets, remember?” I didn’t like the look on her face. Something weighed on her.

  “Julian, it’s a public beach in the middle of the day. He’s not that stupid. My father may be a psychopath, but he doesn’t have a death wish. If he came after me in broad daylight, he might as well handcuff himself to a squad car.”

  I didn’t want to admit it, but she’d made a valid argument. Still, I refused to take any chances. “I get what you’re saying, but, knowing it here,” I pointed to my head, “doesn’t always make it to here.” I tapped my chest. “I have to meet with Kristina again this morning. Please let me have someone go with you…for my sanity at least.”

  She shot me an accusing glare. “You swore to me you called off Zane’s hood gang.”

  “I did.” When she narrowed her eyes, I handed her my phone. “If you don’t believe me, call him yourself. It’s done. No more street gangs hanging around the house.”

  “No.” She pushed the phone toward my chest. “I believe you. But I’m in no mood for your stool pigeon brother, thanks.”

  I shook my head as I pulled on my boots. “No, actually, I had someone a little more…intimidating in mind.”

  She leaned against the wall, staring at me until realization flashed across her face. Holding out a finger, she wagged it in my face.

  “Oh, no. No, Julian.”

  “Come on, he’s not that bad. You have to admit he’s intimidating as hell when he wants to be.”

  “Yeah, but Ty?” She scraped her palms down her cheeks in acceptance. “Julian, he’s worse than a girl. All he wants to do is talk about baby stuff. And he’s the worst belly rubber ever. I love the big dude, but sometimes I think he’s more excited about this baby than both of us put together.”

  I grinned. I’d noticed my drummer’s overexuberance for Phoebe’s impending birth, but I’d chalked it up to the insurmountable loss the guy had faced in a short amount of time. In less than four years, he’d lost his little sister to leukemia, his friend and bandmate to a drunk driver, and our bandmate, Tanna, who he’d considered a surrogate sister, to misguided obsession and mental illness. Ty was six-foot-four, about two hundred and thirty pounds, with long hair and
a beard. He looked every bit a professional wrestler. But the dude had the softest, kindest heart of anyone I’d ever met. It was a shame he’d been the one to endure the most tragedy.

  Maybe our baby had renewed his faith in hope. Since Phoebe had let Ty feel it kick, he’d been a changed man. No more brooding, no more long-ass motorcycle drive disappearing acts, no more coming home at four a.m. from barroom fights. Ty had become Ty again.

  “Ty’s family, Phoebe,” I explained. “And he’ll stay in the car. I’ll make sure of it. You can do whatever you want. He’ll stay out of your way, but this is non-negotiable.”

  “You’re being unfair,” she pouted.

  “I could go back to doing shit behind your back.” I posed it as a statement, but my voice formed it into more of a question.

  “Fine.” She grabbed her cellphone and purse. “Call him and tell him he has twenty minutes before I pick him up to go to…?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Santa Monica Pier,” I finished for her.

  “Fine,” she repeated. “Santa Monica Pier. And he stays in the car or he gets volts, got it?”

  “Got it,” I said as she wrenched the door open. “And, Phoebe? Whatever you’re going to the pier to do, I’ll expect to hear about it later. No secrets, no lies…remember? Your words.”

  With that, she closed the door, and I paced the newly cleaned floor. Hitting the speed dial button on my phone, I left the voice mail message I’d had no intention of leaving three minutes ago.

  “Hey, Kristina, it’s Julian. I’m not going to be able to make it today. Something’s come up that needs my attention.”

  ***

  From our door in the Hollywood Hills to the Santa Monica Pier only took thirty minutes by car. Part of me hated myself for not trusting her judgment, but after the stunt she pulled at Griffith Park, and the threat of her father, I gave zero fucks about it. I’d rather beg for her forgiveness than grieve for her loss.

  As I parked my Corvette, I closed my eyes at the images that flashed through my mind. Jesus, fuck, my chest hurt. I found myself mindlessly rubbing it as I closed the door—as if it would make the dull ache stop.

  The only thing that would stop the constant pressure in my chest would be a bullet between Daniel Dalton’s eyes. I didn’t care if it were by my hand or the LAPD, but this world didn’t need that asshole in it to turn. In fact, it’d be a happier place if he went ahead and took his rightful place in hell.

  “Just couldn’t trust me, huh?”

  Glancing up, I realized during my internal rant, I’d crossed the street and stood at the fence, where Ty leaned against a wooden post. He folded his arms over his massive chest with his fingers tucked under his biceps. His booted foot was tucked behind him, the heel slung back and hooked on the railing as he chewed on a straw from a discarded fast food drink.

  “This has nothing to do with you, man.” I scanned the crowded beach for the familiar raven hair I’d know anywhere.

  I meant what I said. My being here had nothing to do with my trust in him. Phoebe affectionately called him a sweet big lug, but if someone threatened Phoebe, that sweet big lug could snap someone’s neck. That was the guy for the job as far as I was concerned. I trusted him implicitly with Phoebe and my kid.

  I just didn’t trust Phoebe’s desperation, or Dalton’s ability to hide in plain sight.

  The corner of Ty’s mouth lifted in a knowing smirk. “Whatever, dude. I’m not offended. If some psycho paternal freak was after my woman, I’d have the overprotective vibe thing too.” Pulling the straw from his mouth, he pointed it toward the beach, three hundred feet to the left. “She barely put the car in park before she bolted. I tried following her, and she told me to fuck off.”

  I scratched the back of my head to keep from laughing. “Well, at least she’s acting like her old self again.”

  “She’s over there—hasn’t moved since we got here. She just keeps running her hands through the sand and talking to herself like some…” He stopped himself and his lips tightened. He didn’t have to say it. I knew he meant to finish with “crazy person,” then stopped because of Tanna. It’d been almost five months, and for the most part, Ty coped better than expected, considering how close he’d been to my stalker. But, sometimes, his façade slipped.

  I risked opening old wounds and clasped him on the back. “Have you talked to her?”

  He barely shook his head. “No. It wouldn’t be right.”

  Tanna wrecked so many lives, but she’d destroyed Ty’s ability to trust. Which was a shame, because the guy had a heart bigger than anyone. At least he did before Tanna shattered it.

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think she lied, man,” I offered, my eyes pinned on Phoebe sitting cross-legged in the sand. “The real Tanna loved you. She still does.”

  “What are you saying?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in honest confusion.

  I pushed off the railing and said the words I never expected to say. “Call the hospital. Check on her. She has no one, Ty. If anyone’s going to reach through those personalities and bring the real Tanna back, it’s you.” I took a few steps before glancing over my shoulder. “It’s up to you. Nobody will think any less of you either way.”

  With that, I left him there and made my way toward the round-bellied woman holding handfuls of gritty white sand as it fell through her small fingers.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Phoebe

  A small cry slipped out as the sand fell between my fingers. Reaching beside me, I grasped the basket of strawberries settled in my lap.

  God, this is hard.

  It took all I had in me to not run back to the car and beg Ty to slam on the gas. But I’d come here for a reason, and maybe if I went through with it, I could rebuild the peace I’d lost.

  The last seven years flashed through my mind like a slide show. Things she’d missed: my high school graduation, winning Teen Miss Iris Festival, move-in day at Dreighton University, making it on my own in New York City, and now the impending birth of her grandchild. I hadn’t let her death hurt in a long time. The wall I’d built had withstood the emotions behind it.

  But the wall had cracked, and I started rambling as if she sat beside me.

  “Hi, Mom. I’m sorry it’s been so long since we’ve talked. I could say I’ve been busy, but who isn’t? The truth is, I didn’t want to talk. Oh god, I can’t believe I said that.” I palmed my forehead in shame. “It’s been too much to deal with. So much has happened, so much that—god, so much I needed you here for, Mom.”

  Opening my eyes, my private moment momentarily paused as a Frisbee landed a few inches away and buried itself in the sand. Within seconds, a supermodel bounced her way toward me and pointed to it.

  “I’m sorry, Matt got a little throw-happy. Do you mind?”

  Sniffling, I plastered on a fake smile and handed it her. “No problem.”

  “Hey, are you all right?” she said, tilting her head.

  Wiping my face, I nodded and forced a laugh. “Yeah, I’m allergic to sand.”

  Totally lame. She’ll never buy that load of crap.

  “Oh, okay,” she said, bouncing back toward the surf. She threw a hand up in a halfhearted wave and disappeared.

  Guess I’m good at selling crap.

  I gripped handfuls of sand and held my arms up high. Opening my fingers, I let the sand fall through slowly as if trickling through an hourglass. “I’ve always had to take the path less traveled, remember? This guy I’m involved with, he’s…well, he’s kind of famous. It’s been a different life for me the past year. I moved to New York, then to LA. We broke up and got back together more times than I care to remember, but one thing never changed. I love him.”

  Closing my eyes, I let the words come out that I’d been needing to say. “Mom, I’m having his baby, and I’m scared. This baby is so important to both of us.” I shook my head as if she could see me. “I wasn’t fair to him in the beginning either. I didn’t tell him about it. I thought I was doi
ng the right thing at the time. The last thing I wanted was to ruin his career.”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I willed the tears to stop falling—to turn the faucet of emotion off, but I knew it was impossible. It was time for truth. “Dad’s here. He’s hurt more innocent people because of me, and now he’s in Los Angeles. I knew being with Julian was dangerous, but I never imagined Dad would risk being arrested just to come after me. I don’t know what to do. I can’t talk to Chloe. There’s been too much bad blood with my big sister lately. I have no one to help me and no one to talk to, Mom. I’m so fucking alone.”

  Running a hand through my hair, I chuckled as I remembered the way she’d always pull my hand away, telling me I’d eventually go bald. She had her quirks, as all good Southern moms did; forcing me into the pageant circuit being one of them. But she had a good heart and loved me unconditionally. Although, it didn’t stop her from attempting to groom me to be “husband ready.”

  “Phoebe Nicole…you’re too impulsive for your own good, you know that? Someday you’re going to make some man prematurely gray.”

  Tears dripped down my cheek. As I reached to wipe them away, more had already fallen. This was ridiculous. She’d been gone a long time, and I was a grown-ass woman. Rubbing both hands across my eyes, I sniffled and pushed backward…straight into a hard chest.

  Eyes still focused on the sand, I sighed and muttered impatiently. “Damn it, Ty, I said you didn’t have to stand guard.”

  A familiar thumb raked across my cheek from behind, catching the last falling tear. “You’re not alone, princess.”

  Holding back the impending breakdown proved to be a bigger challenge than I’d anticipated as images of future milestones swirled in my head. “I miss my mom, Julian.” On a whisper, I offered up my real reason for coming here. “I could use her advice right now.” He enveloped me against his broad chest, and for the first time in weeks, his presence calmed the storm that’d become my life.