Dirty Boys: Bad Boy Rock Star Romance Box Set

by Jade C. Jamison

  Fortunately, though, the effects of the alcohol had totally worn off by this point.

  I made my way to the kitchen and found David. The group of people he’d been with earlier had dwindled down now to just him and his good-looking friend. David looked up and smiled. I said, “Could you get my jacket, please?”

  He furrowed his brow. I could tell then that he’d been drinking quite a bit, too. “Aw, I’m sorry, Case. Not work out?” he asked, unable to hide the concern in his voice. Oh, please. Let’s not talk about my love life in front of your love interest. Please?

  “Oh, no, everything’s great.” I smiled, hoping that my newfound emotions weren’t still peeking out. The smile, of course, wasn’t forced, but I didn’t need any love signs jumping out. Fortunately, David had drunk so much (and was so intertwined in his own flirtations), he was having a hard time reading me.

  He stepped out of the kitchen and I sat at the table next to his friend. A heavy sigh flowed out of my lungs as I realized I’d probably pulled it off. That was good. The second time would be easier, I knew. If there was a second time. I wanted to let my mind drift over the events of the evening, but I knew I should be friendly instead. “Hi, I’m Casey,” I said to the man with the clean-shaved face.

  “Gerald,” he said, holding out his hand to me. Juxtaposed against the scent of hops and barley was his aftershave, clean-smelling and spicy. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I grinned. “Well, then, you have me at a disadvantage. I’ve hardly heard a thing about you.”

  He fluttered his eyelashes. “That’s because I’m secretive. Give David a few more months to pry it all out of me.” I thought at first he was being serious, but then he starting laughing, a hearty guffaw coming from deep inside him.

  Joining him, I giggled, and then David tapped me on my shoulder. “Here you go!”

  I stood. “Thanks. I really need to find my cigarettes.” Hugging David, I said, “I had a great time. Thanks for inviting me.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Leaving a little early, aren’t you?”

  “Gotta be to work at eight, so I need to get some sleep. See ya there.” I looked at Gerald. “Really nice to meet you.”

  I flung my jacket over my shoulder, trying to appear nonchalant. It was a one-night stand, nothing more. We were good friends before; we would still be good friends after, right? But I knew I was falling—falling hard, no matter how much I tried to deny it to myself. I couldn’t let that happen. But I was afraid it was already too late.

  I walked into the living room, hoping my cigarettes were still there somewhere, because I desperately needed one. Jim was sitting back on the couch, nursing the bottle of now almost-empty schnapps, watching television, even though he couldn’t hear the damn thing over the blaring music. He spied me and said, “Long time, no see.”

  “Yeah.” I finally spotted my cigarettes and lighter on the coffee table and grabbed them. “I’m outta here.”

  “Hey, where’s Scott?”

  “Upstairs, in his room, I think.”

  Jim smiled, a knowing look on his face. Oh, fuck me. He was going to be an ass. What a surprise. I stifled a sigh as he said, “So you…uh…”

  “I didn’t say that. I said, I believe he’s in his room. But I’ve got to go home. I’ve got to work at eight tomorrow morning. See ya later.”

  “Yeah, okay. See ya later.” If I’d had any presence of mind, I would have asked where his wife was.

  Instead, I walked toward the front door, jonesing for a cigarette and dying to get the hell out of there. As I stepped outside, I saw Jim walking up the stairs and almost turned around to stop him, but then he’d know for sure. If I didn’t say anything, there was a chance he’d never know. But I had to get out of there…especially if Jim wound up getting Scott out of bed. It was all too fresh, the emotions all too strong, and for no good reason. I couldn’t—didn’t—dare see him right now. I couldn’t see him until I could batten down my girlish emotions. And I didn’t want to talk it out in front of Jim, either.

  So I lit a cigarette once I was out the door and then hustled to my car, making it home in a short amount of time.

  That night, though, I hardly slept, even though I was worn out. I couldn’t stop thinking about Scott and what had seemed like magic between us. My mind replayed our time together over and over.

  Goddammit. When I crawled out of bed at six-thirty the next morning, I could no longer deny it. My feelings for Scott Wardell were strong, and I wasn’t sure how to make them stop.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sex might not be a cure-all, but it certainly didn’t hurt.

  Physically, that next morning, I felt amazing—satisfied, sexy, self-confident.

  Emotionally, I was a bit of a wreck. On the one hand, I had that hearts-and-butterflies feeling you get when you’re falling in love. Sex sometimes cements it, when you’ve been running down that inevitable path already. I even caught myself double-checking my makeup to make extra sure I looked amazing, just in case I saw Scott at work. I couldn’t remember who was scheduled that day.

  On the other hand, I knew it was stupid. First, I had no business getting into a relationship. My marriage with Barry testified to that hardcore. It would be better for both me and Scott if we stayed apart. And then, of course, I had to remind myself that that might not even be a problem. I’d been worried about hurting his feelings, but maybe he’d wanted something simple, no pressure, too. Maybe this was a non-issue.

  As the opening cook, I had a lot to focus on—and that was good. I needed to stay busy. Besides being tired, I had to get last night out of my head. I could deal with it later. So I started moving down my morning checklist. Jim came in later and also jumped in with both feet. While he didn’t say much at first, he didn’t seem to be hung over at all—which was strange, because the guy had put a lot away just while I’d been around him. God only knew how much he’d ultimately imbibed.

  When I was wrapping potatoes with foil squares before throwing them in the oven, Jim came over to help. He picked up a potato and then said, “So you said you didn’t, right, Casey?”

  What the fuck was he talking about? I had a feeling I knew, and that pissed me off. “Didn’t what?”

  I forced myself to maintain eye contact, much as I didn’t want to, while he answered. “You know. You and Scott.”

  “Don’t be a pig, Jim. We have shit to do around here, and I’d appreciate you backing off. What I do is none of your business. Why don’t you chop the onions for the chili, okay? I’ve got these.”

  “Sorreee. I didn’t know you were on your period.”

  I ground my teeth and glared, and he backed off.

  The rest of the day was all business. Jim and I probably said less than one hundred words to each other, and they all involved work.

  I put in my eight hours and then went home. I forced myself to try to sketch something, anything, but I kept getting distracted by my thoughts. All I could see in my head was Scott’s face, his body, his tattoos, but nothing I was ready to attempt drawing. I kept picking up my phone, considering sending a lighthearted text before stopping myself each time. I tried to read and watch TV, but my mind kept going back to Scott. Finally, I wrote a little something in a journal and then fell asleep—and, by the next morning, I felt closer to my old self. A little time always helped my perspective, and I was ready to face anyone and anything.

  As I drove in to work, I felt a little case of anxiety creeping up on me, but I reminded myself that what had happened between Scott and me was a one-time thing. We were still friends, and I was sure he felt the same way—so everything was okay. We just needed to get through the inevitable awkwardness of seeing each other again for the first time.

  Easier said than done.

  I was the second cook on duty that day, so when Scott got there, things were already heating up in the kitchen as hungry diners were heading in for lunch. But Jesus. Just being around him again made my heart rate spike in a dangerous way. I stole
a glance at him from where I stood in the sous station as he walked past—and he didn’t say a word, not even a hello. So not only was it no big deal to him, it was even worse. But I was a big girl. I could handle it.

  But shit. What if this was his response to the stupid fucking note I’d left?

  I couldn’t remember exactly what I’d said, but I thought it had been sweet enough yet noncommittal. Maybe the noncommittal part had been the mistake—but I couldn’t take it back now. I wasn’t getting a hurt-feelings vibe from Scott, but I also knew how easy it was to mask hurt emotions with angry ones. And that was kind of the sense I was getting.

  So when the rush was over, I told the guys I was taking my break and headed out back without another word. I didn’t even make eye contact with Scott.

  Once out back, I sat on a chair and propped my feet up on another chair. I was lucky enough to be alone with my thoughts. Lighting up a cigarette, I closed my eyes, resting my head back to enjoy the sun. When I heard the back door slam, I peeked out the slit of one eye to see Scott. What the fuck? So not only was he giving me a cold shoulder, he had to make an even bigger show of it? That was confirmed when he walked right on past to the storage shed.

  I kept my eyes closed.

  After a few seconds, I heard Scott’s voice. “Hey, Casey?”

  Stay cool. “What?”

  “Where are the Styrofoam to-go boxes?”

  Seriously? So, now that he needed something, we were back to business as usual? I sighed and then shouted back. “Along the right wall, second shelf, near the back.”

  “No, not the little ones. The big ones.”

  I took a deep breath and repeated my earlier directions.

  “Are you sure? I can’t find ‘em.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I got up, crushing out my cigarette, and headed toward the shed. I was not ready to deal with him. Especially not now. I was falling in love against my will; he was not. Shit. I could be so stupid sometimes. Well, at least he was helping me to avoid the falling in love part…right?

  I stepped in the dim shed and into the back where Scott stood. I spied the boxes he was looking for immediately. “They’re right there,” I said, pointing to them. “Are you blind?” But he wasn’t looking there; he was looking right at me…and the expression on his face was not what I’d expected. I felt a shiver dart up my spine as he quickly grabbed me around the waist and pushed me up against the wall. My voice weak, I said, “I thought you weren’t talking to me.” But I knew he could tell by my expression that I wasn’t objecting to his hands on me.

  “This answer your question?” And he kissed me, making all the memories of the other night come flooding back. All the bad things I’d been thinking melted away in those few seconds.

  When his lips released me, I caught my breath. “Yeah, it does.”

  “I’ve got to get back in there. But let’s talk before you go.”

  “Okay.” I was curious—and nervous. What did he want to talk to me about that he couldn’t say now? The note, the sex, the fact that I was falling in love? Or did it have something to do with our working together? I had no idea. I was almost…scared.

  As he turned to walk out of the shed, I grabbed a bag of the boxes he’d come for. “Don’t forget these.”

  He took them from me with a grin. “I guess I better. Not that we need more inside.” With a wink, he headed back in.

  I smoked another cigarette before finishing my break, my mood completely changed. Hopeful, I pondered the possibilities but couldn’t figure out what was on his mind. I had no choice but to wait.

  Plodding through the rest of my shift was difficult, but it was far more bearable now that I knew Scott didn’t hate me.

  Well, I didn’t think he did.

  I told Scott I was going to clock out and asked if he still wanted to talk to me now or call me later. He told the other cook he was going to take his break and walked with me out to my car. When he noticed the Korn decal on the rear window, he tapped on it with his index finger. “Definitely hope for you.”

  Forcing a smile that belied my inner turmoil, I tried to sound noncommittal and casual but feared that I probably sounded like a desperate teen. I tossed my purse in the car and lit a cigarette. “What did you want to talk to me about?” My sour stomach churned.

  Scott looked me in the eye before surveying the landscape just over my head, as if he were searching for the right words. “Well, I’ve been thinking…” Oh, God. That didn’t sound good. My heart sunk. Steeling myself for disappointment, I bit my bottom lip to stop any tears that might think their appearance was welcome. I took a deep breath as his eyes drilled into mine. “We’ve gone about this all wrong, Casey. So I thought maybe tonight we could go out for some pizza, maybe shoot some pool…”

  Ahh. The weight crushing my organs relaxed and my heart lifted. Once I caught my breath, I tried to make sure my voice would sound light. “Sure. What time?”

  “About six?”

  “Okay. I’ll come by your place then?”

  “Yeah…I guess that’ll work.” He seemed a little confused, and I knew it was because he’d probably planned to pick me up—but that would mean we were definitely more serious than I could as yet admit to. Bad enough that all my resolve had disappeared. But I got on my tiptoes with the intent of brushing my lips against his cheek. Instead, he kissed me, long and slow. It made me feel faint as my body remembered what this man had done to me two nights ago. That very same tongue in my mouth had brought my body to the apex of heaven. When his lips released mine, I had to force my eyes open. “See you tonight.” I got in my car, and he closed the door for me, stepping back enough so I could drive off, but he didn’t move from that spot as I left the parking lot.

  Trying not to seem obvious, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw him continuing to stand there as I drove away. Holy shit. That is one fine-looking man…and I guess he’s all mine.

  * * *

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been on a date—but it didn’t take long to recall how pensive I felt before the first one, trying to make myself perfect.

  So I scoured the internet for “what to wear on a first date” and came up with so much bad advice and so many shitty ideas, it wasn’t even funny. Scott had seen me naked, for fuck’s sake, so I didn’t need to wear anything suggestive. He knew what was underneath it all…and it was his if he wanted it. But he also usually saw me in the stupid “uniforms” we wore to work every day, meaning he knew what I looked like in jeans. So I settled on a denim miniskirt—not exactly jeans. Not too sexy but not boring either. It was the top I couldn’t settle on. Because it was almost summer, anything light would be fine. Finally, I grabbed a light white cotton tank decorated with sequins, so it was a little dressy. I found a pair of white sandals and then grabbed a jacket to wear after the sun went down. One last glance in the mirror and I decided I looked good enough.

  I arrived at his place a few minutes after six. When I knocked on the door, David answered it. “My little chickadee,” he said. “Date tonight, huh?”

  “Like you need confirmation from me?”

  “Come on in.” Pulling me by the hand, he led me to the kitchen. “Want a beer or something?”

  “No, thanks.” I didn’t want to settle in and I definitely didn’t want to get started on the alcohol.

  When we sat at the table, I wanted to ask where the hell Scott was but figured he was coming. “He’s pretty sweet on you, ya know.”

  I grinned but wanted to keep my cool. I didn’t want to talk about this with David, partly because I wasn’t exactly sure where I stood with Scott. “No, I don’t think so.” In lust, maybe.

  “You like him, too, don’t you?”

  “Why aren’t we talking about your love interest, my friend?”

  David laughed. “Not now—but I’ll have to fill you in some time at work.” He took a drink from his beer bottle. “Scott should be out of the shower in a minute. He got off work later than planned.”


  “Does that mean things are going well with you and—Gerald?”

  “Yes.”

  As if mere mention of him made him appear, Scott came into the kitchen then—and seeing him took my breath away. He was the dreamiest man I’d ever known…with or without the tattoos. The dark blue jeans and black t-shirt shouldn’t have been sexy, but goddamn. He must have known how good he looked in t-shirts…they just sort of clung to his musculature, highlighting his torso, leaving little to my imagination, reminding me exactly what he looked like underneath it. Jesus…the pecs on him made me hot.

  Smiling at me, he approached the table. “You ready?”

  “Yeah.” I stood, grabbing my purse and jacket.

  Scott saw my skirt and whistled through his teeth. “Very nice.”

  “You like?” I blushed under his gaze. As we walked to the front door, he grabbed me around the waist. “See ya, David.”

  Scott opened the front door. “Don’t wait up.”

  As we walked out, he asked, “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

  Shit. I should have let him pick me up at my house. It had just seemed so much simpler for me to meet him here. And besides…what if I wanted to spend the night…and run again? “Of course.” When we got to his older model black Ford truck, he opened the passenger door for me.

  I couldn’t figure out how to get in with my too-short, too-snug skirt. Sensing my dilemma, Scott grinned and held my hand so I had the leverage and balance I needed. Once he got in on his side, he started it up.

  Suddenly, I felt a little awkward. What the hell should we talk about? Scott took the pressure off, pulling down the visor on my side where at least a dozen CDs were stored. “Pick one.”