Holiday Encounters Books 1-3 Omnibus

by Amy Lamont

  A slow grin curled the corners of his lips. “Oh, really? What can I do to help you? Warm milk?”

  I shook my head and ran my tongue over my bottom lip.

  “No? How about some yoga?”

  I tapped my lips with a finger as if I was considering the idea before shaking my head again. “Some kind of workout might help, but I wasn’t thinking yoga. Think you’re up for giving me a workout?”

  He pulled me against him, hard.

  “I am ready, willing and able to put you through your paces.” He all but growled the words before claiming my mouth with his own. He kissed me until I was breathless, and then kissed me some more.

  When he pulled back, both of us were panting. I was so fixated on Jared’s mouth, I was barely conscious of the flash of a camera going off. It was only the voice of one of Jared’s band mates that caught my attention.

  “Shit, man.” Will clapped a hand down on Jared’s shoulder. “Let the girl up for air. Someone let the paps in.”

  We both turned our heads toward Will and he tipped his chin over toward the entry of the room. One of the large bouncers gripped the arm of a man holding a camera and hustled him out the door.

  “Fucking paparazzi.” Jared stood, yanking me up behind him. “Who the fuck let him in here?”

  “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s just go, Jared.” I hadn’t ever seen him look so pissed.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Paige. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do anything about keeping the photo from being published.”

  “It’s okay.” I ran a soothing hand down his back. “We’ve probably been lucky to keep out of the press for this long.”

  I knew there would be photographers and paparazzi around when Jared and the guys went out in public. But I really hadn’t been prepared for the amount of attention they drew.

  Being in the center of screaming fans and blinding flashes from cameras overwhelmed me the first few times we ran into it. I managed to hang a little behind the band with some of the rest of the crew, though, so nobody had picked up any pictures yet. But given the way they stalked him, I knew it had been only a matter of time.

  Guess I needed to come clean with Emma, Katelyn and Jade. I'd be dead meat if they found out about Jared and me from a rag newspaper in the checkout line of the grocery store.

  But I could worry about that tomorrow. Right now my main concern was getting our wonderful night back on track.

  “Hey.” I cupped his cheek in my palm and lifted up on my toes to kiss him breathless. “Let's not let that guy ruin our night.”

  Jared kissed me back distractedly and then cast another look over his shoulder. “Fucker.”

  A giggle escaped me at his tone. He sounded like a petulant two-year-old.

  I grabbed his hand and gave it a tug. “Hey, eyes on me, buddy. I was enjoying myself here. They're not getting another minute of my attention. And it would be a shame if you gave them another minute of yours and missed out on...” I trailed off provocatively.

  He swung his gaze back to me. He studied my face for a moment and then grinned. “I thought you'd be more pissed.”

  “A week ago I might have been pissed.” I leaned into him, placing my hands flat against his chest. "Today, after one of the best week's of my life?" I shrugged. "It's hard to get upset about it."

  His eyes got intense in a way that made me melt into him even more.

  “This was one of the best week's of your life?”

  I nodded. “And in case I haven't said it yet, thank you. You've spoiled me and pampered me and I've had more fun with you than I've had in a really long time. I've loved every minute of the last few days.”

  His arms slid around my waist, pulling me tight against him. “Me, too.”

  “You don't have to say that," I whispered. "You get to do this all the time.”

  He shook his head and stared down at me intently. “Paige, I do get this all the time. To be honest, it was all getting a little...old. But this week, sharing all of it with you, its been a blast, and I'm going to hate heading back to New York in a few days and only getting to see you in small snatches.”

  I leaned in and kissed my way up his neck to his jaw. “No talking about going home. We get to enjoy this fairy tale until the very last minute.”

  He smiled and kissed me, telling me everything he felt without saying a word. His lips moved against mine, firm and soft at the same time. He nipped my bottom lip before he pulled back.

  “Weren't we heading out a few minutes ago?” he asked.

  “That was definitely the plan. I'm more than ready to have you all to myself.”

  “And what do you plan on doing when you have me all to yourself?”

  “You'll just have to wait and see,” I said. “Though if you're really good, I may give you a sneak peek in the limo.”

  His lips twisted into the smirking grin I loved so much. “What are we waiting for?”

  He led me out of the club after quick waves to his friends and some knowing looks from his band mates. I didn't care, though. Any teasing they dished out would be totally worth it. And I planned on enjoying every minute of the next few days we had together, no matter what.

  Chapter Nine

  I woke up alone the next morning, but from the sound of it, Jared hadn’t ventured too far away. I couldn’t think of a better way to wake up than to the sound of his voice singing softly along with the guitar he strummed.

  I stretched, easing some of the minor aches in my muscles. And I knew I was right last night—each one of them was totally worth it.

  I’d made good on my promise to Jared in the limo. After ensuring the divider was up and the driver couldn’t hear or see what was going on in the back, I’d made quick work of easing his hard length from his pants and taking him into my mouth. Something about being on my knees in front of him in the back of a limousine, knowing people were only a few feet away in their cars or on the street, turned me on more than I imagined it could.

  It must have had the same effect on Jared because he spilled in my mouth and was ready for even more once we got back to our hotel room. He put me through my paces before we both fell into an exhausted but sated sleep, and my muscles could attest to it.

  My attention turned to him when he stopped playing and singing for the third time in a row and restarted from the beginning. He sang a verse and chorus, but a couple of lines into the next verse, he’d stop, wait a few beats, and then start over again.

  I turned over and propped my head up on my hand so I could watch him. He sat in one of the overstuffed floral chairs, looking totally delectable in only a pair of jeans with his guitar on his lap. A furrow had formed between his eyebrows and he hunched around his guitar to stare down at a sheet of paper on the coffee table.

  I listened while he went through the process two more times, and finally caught onto what he sang about. The song was beautiful, the lyrics about moments so perfect time stood still and how fast the world moved again once the moment passed.

  Once again I found myself struck by how hard Jared worked. Granted, writing a song didn't scream work the same way cleaning up bodily fluids did, but I'd never thought about how much effort actually went into an artist's craft before. Seeing it up close and personal this week was a little awe-inspiring. I wished I could show my parents and sisters a glimpse of this side of Jared's life.

  He played the verse and chorus again, and again he got stuck in the same spot. My eyes drifted closed and remnants of the poetry I used to scribble in a notebook I took everywhere with me drifted in my head.

  I'd stopped carrying it around with me after my family pushed me to find activities that would look more impressive on my college applications. But it took a long time before I stopped reaching for that notebook as pieces of poems and lines for lyrics were always floating to the surface of my mind.

  When Jared started yet again, he paused in the same spot. Without opening my eyes, I put a piece of
my own work to his music and sang the lines out loud. "Minutes, hours and days slipped away. Can't even tell you how I filled them. But each second with you stays in my mind. I wish I could freeze each one in time."

  Dead. Silence.

  I squeezed my eyes tighter when the music didn't start again. After several very long seconds ticked by, like those moments in time he'd been singing about, but not as much fun, I braved a peek at him.

  Jared stared at me, his eyes wide.

  Damn. Damn. Damn. I had never been a girl who got easily embarrassed, but did I just sing my own lyrics to one of the most popular rock stars on the planet?

  I opened my mouth to explain, or apologize, or something...anything to speed time back to its normal pace so I could escape this completely mortifying moment. But I couldn't think of one thing to say.

  “Sing it again,” Jared said.

  “What?”

  He stood up and moved over to the bed, sitting beside my hip and propping the guitar on his lap. “Sing it again when I get to that part.”

  I sank back against the pillows and slowly shook my head from side to side.

  “Please, Paige? I've been struggling with this song for a month. And the lyrics you sang were perfect.”

  Perfect? “You—you liked them?”

  “They were unbelievable. And so was your voice. Sing from the beginning with me.”

  He didn't wait for my agreement, just started strumming the first few notes.

  Okay, I could do this. I sat up off the pillows, and when he started singing the lyrics, I sang along with him. When we got to the spot where he kept leaving off, he stopped singing and I kept on going alone with the lyrics I'd sung before.

  When it was done, he shifted forward to lean the guitar against the nightstand. And then he turned and covered me with his body, bearing me down into the mattress.

  “Do you know how hot that was?” His question came out in that gruff voice that never failed to make my hormones jump up and do the happy dance.

  “How hot was it?”

  He laughed at my teasing. “So hot.”

  He followed his words up with a scorching kiss that left me trembling and aching for more.

  “You have to let me use those lyrics.” He pressed a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “And you have to help me finish the rest of the song.” He nipped and kissed his way across my jaw and I tilted my head up to give him better access. I would have offered to help him with lyrics months ago if I knew this would be my reward.

  “And you have to sing that song with me on the album.”

  He bent to kiss my lips again, but I froze.

  “What?” I all but shrieked.

  He moved his head back so he could look down into my face. “I want you to sing on my album.”

  “No. No, I could never do that.” I shook my head, slightly frantic at the thought of what he asked me to do.

  He shifted his weight off me a little, bracing himself on his arms.

  His brows wrinkled. “Why not?”

  I dropped my gaze from his, searching the room, as if an answer would appear there.

  When nothing pushed back the panic rising inside me, I returned my eyes to his. “I just...can't.”

  “Come on. Think about how much fun it would be.”

  Fun might as well be the "F" word in my book. But how did I explain that to him? I was always up for a good time, but not in a way that could jeopardize my plans for the future. It was bad enough I was about to have a photo published for the world to see with me in Jared's arms. I'd managed not to freak out about that. But there's no way I could sing on his album.

  At that thought, my heart squeezed as if gripped in someone's fist. Then anger welled up, big enough to swallow me whole. Why did he offer me something like that? Why tease me with something I could never have?

  “I just can't do it, Jared. Think of the impact it would have on my career.” I couldn't hide the anger from my voice.

  Jared scooted off of me. He stood at the side of the bed looking down at me like he'd never seen me before. “What's going on here, Paige? What's the big deal?”

  I stood up to face him. “The big deal is that I can't do this.” I gestured around the hotel room.

  “This? Sing on my album this?”

  “This!” I waved my hand around. “The pricey hotel suite, the celebrity parties, the interviews and performances. And no, I can't do a song on your album. I can't even believe you'd suggest it. Imagine how seriously I'd be taken at school if I did that.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose before turning a heated look at me. “Let me get this straight. The brave, brazen, wild woman I've spent the last months getting to know is worried about what other people might think of her?”

  I stomped away from him. How could he not understand this? “Jared, I have a real life, a real job to get back to. This is a fantasy.”

  “So what? My job's not real? What we've been building between us isn't real? Because let me tell you, baby, maybe this was all a fantasy for you, but if you stand there and tell me there's nothing real between us, you're lying to yourself.”

  My mouth dropped open and the anger flew away like it hadn't been there. In its place a burning, churning mass of anxiety made itself at home in my belly. It reminded me too much of the feelings I had the day I left the hospital to run to Jared. The day Deanna died.

  “I think I need to go,” I said quietly.

  “What the hell, Paige?”

  “Jared, I didn't mean to hurt you, but you have to see you and me...we'd never work out in the long term.”

  “Are you blind? Things between us have been amazing. And if you haven't noticed, we've managed to work out a relationship between us quite well over the last few months.”

  I gasped at his use of the "R" word. He'd been thinking we were building a long-term relationship all this time? Why would he think that would ever work?

  “Jared, I've had a wonderful time with you. You're amazing and talented and the chemistry between us is off the charts.” Shit, if I kept this up, I'd convince myself to stay. “But you have to see this isn't real. I have school and my job and years of internship and residency ahead of me after that. I have a real job that takes real work.”

  His face hardened. “And I don't? My job isn't real? I don't work hard?”

  I stepped back until my leg hit the end table in the living area.

  “I—I didn’t mean that,” I said lamely. I'd seen how hard he worked this week. But still, it wasn't the same. And no matter how much I loved spending time with him, I just couldn't see a future with a musician.

  He closed the distance between us until he stood looming over me. “Tell me, Paige. I want to hear what you think of my job.”

  His tone and his intimidating pose brought my own anger back with a vengeance. I'd be damned if I'd back down from him.

  I placed my palm flat against his chest and pushed him back a few inches.

  “Don't get in my face, Jared. I don't appreciate the intimidation act. And if you want the truth, than no, I don't think this is a real job. I think it's a fantasy world you live in. I have a real job. I'm dedicating my life to something bigger than me. I don't think you can compare the two.”

  Jared stepped back from me as if he'd been burnt. His expression went from angry to completely blank in two point two seconds.

  Shit, shit, shit. What did I do?

  I opened my mouth to try to fix things. But closed it again when not one word came to me. How on earth could I take back what I just said? There was no way to unsay it. Plus, I believed it.

  But even as I had that thought, images from the last few days came back to me. A teenage girl had given Jared a letter when he passed her as we were on the way into the building where he and the band were appearing on a popular late night talk show. The letter revealed how much the words to his songs meant to her when she was going through her chemotherapy treatments.


  Later, Jared had shared how those were the reasons he did this. He'd always play music, no matter what. But if he'd known all that went into being a celebrity of the magnitude the guys from Sliding Violet had become, he'd have thought twice about signing his first recording contract.

  But almost daily, he received letters or emails from fans who shared how much his songs meant to them. Jared’s music brought them through dark times or breakups or helped them feel less alone, like someone knew exactly how they felt.

  How could I have just stood here and told him that the work he did wasn't as important as mine?

  Before I could even attempt to fix things, my phone rang.

  Saved by the bell. I should probably let it ring, but maybe whoever it was could buy me a little time.

  I rushed to the nightstand and snatched it up, swiping my thumb over it as I pulled it to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Care to share why Katelyn, Jade and I had to find out about your relationship with a member of one of the most famous rock bands on the planet from that annoying celebrity gossip guy instead of straight from you?”

  “What?”

  “Paige,” Emma said, “what the heck is going on? Where are you? Is this about the bet?”

  I dropped onto the side of the bed. “No, it's not about the bet.”

  “So, are you with Jared Sloane right now?”

  I glanced up to see Jared, hands on hips, coolly regarding me from across the room.

  I swallowed hard. I'd been with Jared Sloane all week, but it didn't feel like I was with him right now. The distance between us might as well be three thousand miles.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “I'm with Jared out in California.”

  Silence met my admission.

  “Say something, Emma.” I couldn't help the pleading note in my voice. This is what happened when I stepped off the course I was supposed to be on. Jared got pissed at me. My friends were probably just as mad. Taking my escape from real life managed to fuck up everything.