Holiday Loves
Page 52
Dismissing his comment, Lindsey glanced at her watch. “I hate to break this up. But I need all of you back at the hotel for a radio interview. There’s a limo waiting outside.”
“Don’t even start, Lindsey,” Logan spat. “I’m not doing a fucking interview. Issue a statement or whatever. I’m not going to talk about the show, or the single, or anything else.”
Logan pushed Sean out of the way, then leaned in to whisper something in Christian’s ear. I followed suit, grabbing Christian’s hand and squeezing it.
“Get some rest,” I said. “And let me know if you need anything.”
Christian smiled, his unfocused eyes at half-mast. “I’ll be fine.”
And though I was sure he was right, I couldn’t help but wince inwardly when I noticed the purple bruise on his forehead.
Logan tugged the sleeve of my t-shirt to get my attention, then stepped around Lindsey and headed for the door with Sean on his heels. But I lingered for a moment, surveying our manager in her monochromatic suit with the flat smile frozen on her lips.
“Damn, Lindsey, do you have anything resembling a heart in there?” I matched her cold stare. “If I were you, I wouldn’t push it.”
She rolled her eyes, then shifted her focus to Christian. “I’ll arrange for the Dallas Tribune to come interview you tomorrow.”
“Lindsey. Outside. Now,” I snapped. Punctuating my demand with an arched brow and a pointed finger.
Seething, I held the door for her.
As soon as she glided out of the room, I spun around to face her. “There will be no fucking interviews in Christian’s hospital room. Are we clear?”
She sighed. “Fine.” As she stormed away, I swear I heard her mutter, “Idiot.”
Shaking my head, I followed a step behind. “Last nerve, Lindsey. I swear. Last. Fucking. Nerve.”
* * *
Dumbstruck, I stared out the tinted window of the limo at the crowd of people, mostly female, milling around the parking lot of the Omni Hotel. They spilled out of the lobby, holding makeshift signs with “I LOVE YOU, CHRISTIAN” and “GET WELL SOON” scrawled on them.
“What the fuck is this?” I asked, shifting my focus to Lindsey. “How did they know where we were staying?”
Her smile disintegrated under the weight of my scowl. “I’m not sure.”
Since she refused to look me in the eyes, I knew she was lying.
Shrinking against the seat when several faces pressed against the glass, I muttered, “I thought you were supposed to keep shit like this from happening.”
“Yeah,” Logan cut in, “isn’t that what we pay you for, to keep us safe and anonymous between shows?”
Lifting her chin, Lindsey crossed her arms over her chest. “If you wanted to remain anonymous, maybe you should’ve stayed in Austin. There’s no such thing as bad publicity, boys.”
Tipping forward, I clasped my hands in a death grip to keep from choking her. “And if Christian were in a fucking coma, would that be ‘bad publicity’? Or would you arrange a competition to find a new bass player? Maybe have it televised?”
The sparkle in Lindsey’s eyes told me I wasn’t too far off the mark.
“Of course not.” She picked an imaginary piece of lint off her skirt. “I just thought since you missed the interview, we’d bring the interview to you.”
Logan stared at her while Sean shook his head, his gaze shifting to the van parked a few yards away with “97.1 The Eagle” emblazoned on the side.
“Come on, boys.” Lindsey plastered a smile on her face, sliding her sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose. “Your adoring fans are waiting. I’ve arranged for security to meet us.”
“Security?” Logan roared. “Did you set that up before or after we found out Christian was in the clear?”
“It doesn’t matter, Logan,” she said in a patronizing tone as she scooted closer to the door. “You’re scheduled to do the interview, so do the interview. With this crowd, it’ll probably be broadcast all over the state.”
Reclining against the seat, Logan chewed his lip. “Fuck this. I’m not about to get trapped in my hotel room all week because you wanted extra publicity.” He shifted his attention my way. “Any ideas, Cameron?”
Shrugging, I pulled out my phone. “Just one.”
Logan sighed. “Yeah, okay. Make the call.”
I hit the button, then sat back and waited for my brother to answer. He picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, Chase.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “No, Christian’s fine, but we have a little problem.”
* * *
My brother came through, just like always. It didn’t take him ten minutes to firm up the arrangements. And now, our limo was speeding down the freeway, away from the traffic and the skyscrapers. And Lindsey.
“So what’s the deal with this place?” Logan asked, looking absently at his phone.
“I dunno.” I sighed. “Chase said it’s the shit. He knows the manager. It’s got great food and a spa. All the amenities.”
I trusted Chase more than anyone else in the world. He was more than a brother to me. He was a mentor, and a surrogate father. Not to mention a huge supporter of the band. Four years ago, he bought the Parish bar, the largest live music venue on Sixth Street. The ink wasn’t even dry on the papers before he’d booked Caged as the house band. And that’s when things started happening for us. We never would’ve made it out of the dive bar scene without him.
My phone vibrated next to me on the seat. A text from Chase.
Your contact at the property is Lily Tennison. I booked three bungalows. There’s another bungalow on hold for Christian when he gets out. Get some rest. And don’t tell that bitch where you are.
Chuckling, I tapped out a response.
Thanks, bro. No worries, Lindsey doesn’t have a clue where we’re headed. She’s going to be blowing up your phone when she can’t find us.
Seconds later, Chase replied: She’ll be lucky if I don’t blow her ass all the way back to L.A. Call me later.
I took the last swallow from my Shiner Bock just as the limo turned at the sign marked “Rosewood Mansion on Turtle Creek.” Red bud trees dotted the long driveway, their pink petals scattered on the concrete.
Logan stretched his arms over his head when we coasted to a stop. “I hope the staff at this place is as accommodating as the Omni.” He gave me one of his patented grins, and I rolled my eyes. We’d only been at the Omni Hotel for two nights, but Logan had already managed to bang one of the bartenders. And from the look of the cute little maid that I’d spotted leaving his room this morning, she’d delivered more than fresh towels.
“And you call me a dog?” Sliding across the seat, I waited for the driver to open the door. “Don’t shit where you eat, Lo. Chase will kick your ass if his buddy tells him you defiled half the female staff.”
Logan’s sexcapades landed us in the press more than our music. The dude had an endless supply of energy when it came to entertaining the more willing of our fan base.
Shrugging, he ran a hand through his long, blond hair. “Whatever. We’ll go out, then.”
I shook my head. If Logan wanted to prowl, he’d do it without me. The only thing I needed was a good meal and a soft bed.
Squinting from the sudden brightness, I placed a foot on the pavement when the limo door swung open. Taking in a lungful of the fragrant flowers from the trees surrounding the circular driveway, I smiled. After a string of nondescript hotels in cities I couldn’t even remember, it was nice to be staying someplace that actually had some character.
“Get out here, y’all. You’ve got to see…”
The sentence caught in my throat when I noticed the petite blonde gliding down the stone steps. My gaze drifted from the mass of yellow waves, falling in ribbons over her slender shoulders, to the swell of her breasts beneath the sheer ivory blouse. But it was her eyes that had my attention. They locked onto mine and held, her lips curving into a smile like we were old friends.
�
�Dude, close your mouth.” Sean knocked shoulders with me when he took his place at my side.
Glancing his way, I noticed Logan grinning appreciatively in the girl’s direction. No way. Before she got caught in his crosshairs, I broke from the group and met her at the bottom of the stairs.
Blinking up at me, she tucked a fallen curl behind her ear. “Mr. Noble?”
“Knight, actually,” I replied, hoping for a glimmer of recognition.
To be fair, I was Cameron Noble. At least that’s what my birth certificate said. But I dropped that shit as soon as Caged had a single on the charts, changing my last name to Knight. My old man, Tyler Noble, the drunk who’d chased fame his whole life, wasn’t going to get a nod of acknowledgement for anything I achieved.
“But you can call me Noble,” I added when her brows knit together. “Or anything else you want, as long as you say it with a smile.”
Laughing nervously, she stuck out her hand. “I’m Lily Tennison. I’ll be your personal events coordinator while you’re here.”
Sliding my palm against hers, I squeezed her fingers gently. “I like the sound of that.”
I bit back a frown when her smile melted, and she retracted her hand. Not that I expected every woman to fall at my feet, but…Actually, I did. I’d been on the road for months, and the only women who’d crossed my path were fans. Or groupies. And Lily was neither of those.
“Your brother explained the situation,” she said, all business. “If you’ll follow me to my office, I’ll be happy to go over a list of the amenities and services we offer. I’ll also take care of any special requests you might have.” Shifting her attention to Logan and Sean, she gave them a cheery smile. “Gentlemen, welcome to the Mansion.”
Turning on her heel, she strode briskly toward the building, ignoring the snickers that erupted from our group.
“Special requests?” Logan chuckled, lowering his tone to nearly a whisper. “I’ve got her special request—right here.” Grabbing his crotch, he cocked his head to the side and watched her walk, not bothering to hide his leer.
Idiot.
After elbowing Logan in the ribs, I followed Lily into the lobby, trying to distance myself from the asshats I was with. Couldn’t they hold it together for one fucking minute without acting like horny teenagers?
Since my eyes were locked on Lily’s heart-shaped ass, I had no room to talk.
And now I was hard.
Perfect.
I pinned my gaze to her shoes, figuring that would be safe. But no. The leather pumps were sexy as hell, with red soles and four-inch heels. And, fuck, was that a tattoo on her ankle?
She glanced over her shoulder and a crease formed between her brows when she noticed me staring.
Well, shit.
I quickly looked away, and after a moment of awkward silence she cleared her throat. “Um…well, over here we have our l-lounge and our steakhouse,” she stammered, motioning toward a dimly lit space next to the stone fireplace. “They’re open for d-dinner only. Per your brother’s request, I’ve s-secured a chef to take care of your meals, en suite. But you can order anything off the menu and have it delivered, if you p-prefer.”
Feigning interest in the tour, I nodded, hoping my dick would go into hibernation. And it was working until Lily looked down at her paperwork, and her tongue darted out to sweep her lower lip. A perfect, pink tongue. Caressing the softest, pinkest flesh I’d ever seen in my life.
Jesus, it was like I’d never seen a woman before.
“This way,” she said, tipping her chin to the hallway where the executive offices were housed.
Lagging behind, I took the opportunity to adjust myself. And of course, Logan noticed. Falling into step beside me, he clapped me on the shoulder. “You got a problem there, son?”
“Mind your own damn business,” I muttered. “And stop with the sex jokes.”
Giving me the side eye, he smirked. “Dude, I’m not the one rocking the semi.”
Ignoring the jab, I forged ahead and slipped through the door of Lily’s large office. The furnishings matched the décor in the lobby—classic with sleek lines, and reeking of money. But the oil paintings and other artwork were modern. Wandering over to a group of charcoal sketches next to the window, I examined the cityscapes. The corner of each portrait was signed with a loopy “L” and adorned with a small flower.
“These are really nice.” I leaned closer to examine the details before turning to Lily. “Who’s the artist?”
“S-someone local.” She smiled tightly. “You wouldn’t know her.”
As she stared at the sketches, the crease in her brow grew more pronounced. Her gaze met mine for a brief second before she cleared her throat and shifted her attention to her paperwork.
Maybe she was interested after all.
Grinning at the thought, I took a seat in the winged chair in front of the desk.
“I’ve taken the liberty of contacting a p-personal shopper at Neiman Marcus,” Lily began, glancing over our tattered jeans and t-shirts. “If you could provide me with your sizes, I’ll have some things brought over for you until you can retrieve your l-luggage from the Omni.”
Logan removed his sunglasses, then propped his elbows on his knees. “Is there something wrong with the way we’re dressed?”
The frost in his tone reached all the way to his pale blue eyes. But to Lily’s credit, she didn’t miss a beat.
“Absolutely not. I just thought s-since you didn’t have any clean clothes, you might want to order a few things. It’s t-totally up to you. There’s no dress code on the property, with the exception of the hotel dining area and the l-lounge.” Clasping her hands on top of her desk, she sighed. “Look, y’all, I’m here to help. I’m s-sorry to hear about your friend. If you don’t mind me asking—is he all right?”
“Fine,” I said. “Just a little banged up.”
Her gaze roamed over my face. Like she was trying to peek inside my head. And oddly enough, I didn’t mind. As if she just realized we weren’t alone, a blush rose in her cheeks.
“Let me get this p-paperwork finished so y’all can b-be on your way.”
Snagging her lip between her teeth, she tapped away on the keyboard, occasionally referencing the forms in front of her or asking a follow-up question. I couldn’t look away from her delicate fingers or the way the light caressed her skin.
A few minutes later she stood up and handed each of us a fat envelope.
“It was nice to m-meet y’all.” She extended a hand to Logan, and then to Sean. “Please let me know if I can be of any assistance during your stay. The b-bungalows are out back, at the far end of the property. Would you like me to call for a cart to take you there?”
“I’m sure we can manage,” Logan said with a chuckle, giving her a wide grin. “Thanks for all your help.”
He nodded at Sean, and they headed out the door. When I made no move to get up, Lily scooted around her desk. “Is there anything else I c-can help you with?”
There were plenty of things. But since all of them involved stripping her down to nothing but those heels, I shook my head. “Nope.”
As I brushed past her, I caught a whiff of her perfume and all my good intentions fell by the way side. “There is one thing,” I said, my tone huskier than I intended. “I was kind of wondering—what do you do for fun around here?”
That perfect, pink tongue darted out again, slicking her bottom lip. And I got the urge to follow its path with my own.
She glanced down at the packet in my hand. “I’ve enclosed a couple of b-brochures in the envelope I gave you. We have—”
“I mean, what do you do for fun, Lily?”
She stared at me for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. “I w-work. And I go to s-school. I don’t have much time for fun.”
“That’s a shame.” I gave her a wink as I headed for the door. “Everyone could use a little fun.”
My implication was clear. If she wanted a good time, I was the guy. But
obviously she didn’t. Because when I stepped into the hall she was right on my heels, ready to close the door behind me.
* * *
I rushed toward the executive kitchen, my phone vibrating in my hand for the tenth time. Peeking at the screen, I rolled my eyes. If I wasn’t certain my roommate would keep power dialing until I answered, I’d let it go to voicemail.
Juggling my latte and my clipboard, I tucked the phone between my shoulder and my ear. “I don’t have time for this, Tess,” I grumbled. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.”
“Wait!” she screeched, loud enough to shatter my eardrum. “Did you meet them? What were they like? Scratch that… I don’t care. Just tell me about Logan.”
Logan? I drew a blank.
“Um…he’s the one with the long, dark hair right? The brooding one?”
From the groan Tess emitted, I got it wrong.
“No,” she scolded. “That’s Sean. Logan is the blond with the fuck me eyes. The one who looks like he’s got a dirty secret he can’t wait to share.”
As I passed through the break room, I smiled at the table full of servers gathering for their shift meeting. “Oh, sorry. Yeah... um… he’s hot.”
It was the truth. But hell, they were all hot. Not an ugly duckling in the bunch. But the only one giving off any fuck-me vibes was Cameron Knight. Coincidentally, his was the only face seared into my memory and the only name I remembered.
“Hot?” she scoffed. “Are you blind? Logan Cage is a four-alarm fire. Please, please tell me you asked about tickets to the show.”
Tess didn’t want tickets. With my connections, I could get tickets. She wanted backstage passes. And probably a guided tour from Logan.
“Listen, you’re breaking up,” I lied. “Bad connection. We’ll talk more when I get home.”
Ending the call, I slid the phone into my pocket as I rounded the corner. And because I wasn’t looking, I ran smack dab into my boss’s back. Greg spun around, catching my arm to steady me. But the latte didn’t survive the impact and slipped through my fingers, splashing foamy liquid all over the cuffs of Greg’s blue trousers when the cup hit the floor.