by Lane Hayes
I bolted up into a sitting position and glared at him. “Ouch!”
“Get up and stop feeling sorry for yourself. We have to talk. Look at me.” He waited until I obeyed, then caressed my chin, rubbing my morning scruff with his thumb. “I’m going to call my parents while you—”
“Oh my God.” I hung my head and hid my face in my hands. It was one thing for the masses to make assumptions about your love life but quite another to have the people who fed you after-school snacks in on your personal affairs. With their son, no less. “What will you tell them?”
“The truth.” When I made a pained sound, he grinned and shifted on the bed to mirror my position with his legs crossed so that our knees were touching. Then he slung his arms over my shoulders and leaned in to rest his forehead against mine. “I’ll tell them I’m crazy about the dorky kid Ned used to bring around to memorize geometry equations.”
“That’s all?”
“Yeah. I’ll leave out the part about how fucking sexy you are and that I think about being inside you every waking minute of every damn day.”
I gulped. “Good idea.”
“While I’m making my awkward phone call, you make yours. And then… let’s get the hell out of town. You need off the merry-go-round for a few days. Enough time to clear your head and get your groove back. What do you say?”
“I’d love to, but I can’t just take off for a few days in the middle of a tour.”
“When’s your next show?”
“Thursday in Pittsburgh.”
“All we need is three days. Talk to your friends.”
I traced the corner of Adam’s full mouth and chuckled when he bit my thumb. His boyish enthusiasm made me think anything was possible. “Okay.”
MY CHAT with Ed went about as expected: terrible. I was treated to another round of what kind of a moron makes a public appearance without security? I bit my tongue as he lambasted me for the PR bullshit I’d thoughtlessly created. Then he blasted me in Spanish with a few words I recognized and knew not to repeat in polite company.
“I’m sorry. I—”
“You’re sorry. That’s nice,” he said sarcastically. “I don’t know how to give you the dose of perspective you need. What’s it gonna take? You’ve lived in Manhattan for years. You must know it’s more common to spot a famous person here than in Hollywood. In New York City, people nod at celebrities they spy walking up Fifth Avenue. But they only stop traffic for gods. Remember that. You’re not just a regular guy from small-town Ohio anymore.”
“Pennsylvania,” I corrected. “I get it, Ed. I get it. I’ll bring the note to you and—”
“What note?”
I filled him in about the disturbing find I’d made when I got home last night. He was quiet long enough to make me think he’d hung up. I was about to check the connection when he finally spoke.
“That’s creepy as fuck. You might not like hearing this, but this sounds like an inside job. Someone who can get close to you is fuckin’ with you.”
A chill went through my body. Hearing Ed say what I’d been thinking made it real. And more than a little scary.
“Yeah,” I agreed over the lump in my throat. “Look, I’m thinking of getting out of town for a couple days to get away from this bullshit, but… I don’t want Brian with me. I don’t trust him, Ed.”
“You think it’s him?”
“I don’t know what to think. Sometimes I think it could be Tara.”
“Tara? Are you fuckin’ with me? Hey, we aren’t the detectives here. Let them deal with it. Talk to Rand and take your couple days away. You gotta have security with you, though.”
“No. I’ll be fine. I’ll be with Adam.”
“You sure about this guy? I don’t know if—”
“Yes. I trust Adam.”
LATE THAT evening, Adam and I boarded a private jet to Harrisburg. Ed and Tara coordinated security from New York to Pennsylvania and arranged for private transportation once we landed, but after that, Adam took over. He knew Springville better than me. I trusted him to choose someplace safe and somewhat secluded to hibernate for a couple of days.
If he was surprised by my choice of destination, he hid it well and readily agreed to take care of everything. Spiral owned properties all over the world, but alas… not in Springville. It was a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. Sure it was quaint and the setting was picturesque in a rural-meets-suburban way. But there wasn’t much to keep the average rock star occupied for any length of time. The restaurants and stores were small family-owned businesses, and the Springville Museum of History was good for a fifteen-minute diversion tops. Nonetheless, this was where I wanted to be. At least until the first gust of frigid wind nearly knocked me sideways.
“It’s fucking freezing here. Feels like snow’s coming. Tell me why I thought this was a good idea,” I groused as we hustled from the plane and jumped into the waiting black Suburban.
Adam reached into the large duffel in the seat behind us next to my guitar case and passed my North Face jacket to me. “Put your coat on and relax. Or better yet, go to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
“Where are we staying? The Springville Inn? Oh my God. Tell me we aren’t going to your parents’ house.”
He set his hand over my mouth and quickly replaced it with his lips. It was a short, punishing kiss only meant to shut me up, but it had the unintended effect of turning me on. I groaned when he pulled back and lifted my hand from his crotch.
“Trust me.” His earnest tone caught my attention. I nodded and then wrapped my jacket around me and closed my eyes.
I AWOKE the next morning snuggled against Adam in a four-poster bed under a pile of blankets so thick it took a few seconds to free my arms and sit up to get my bearings. Sunlight streamed in, easily penetrating the white roman blinds. The wide picture window was framed with dainty-looking lace curtains, and the walls were papered in a floral print. The duvet, blanket, and pillows were a mishmash of stripes that coordinate in a homespun fashion. My mother had been a big fan of English-style décor and at one point decorated practically every bedroom in our house in Laura Ashley fabrics. She would have approved of the juxtaposition of traditional, dark furniture and cheerful, light linens. But this wasn’t the house I grew up in. And it wasn’t the McBrides’ house either. Thank God.
Adam rolled onto his back and stretched his arms over his head, inadvertently shifting the covers and leaving us exposed to the chill. Wherever we were, it was freezing. I burrowed under the blankets and pasted myself to his side, wrapped one arm around his stomach, and entwined my legs with his.
“Where are we?” I whispered. “I can’t remember if I asked, and nothing looks familiar.”
I loved the sound of Adam’s deep chuckle. It reverberated through his body, making me feel instantly warm and content.
“We’re in Ned’s carriage house. He uses it for an office, but it’s basically a two-story cottage behind the main house. It’s the old Gowen estate. Remember? This place has two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a small living quarters with a kitchen downstairs. Pretty sweet, huh?”
“So we’re alone?”
“It’s just us. For the next three days, I’m your bodyguard.”
“What about Ned and Megan? What did you tell them?”
“I told them to call me if the media shows up so I have time to do my hair and—ow!” He rubbed his left nipple and scowled before turning to face me. “No one is going to bug us. You’re safe here.”
“I keep forgetting everyone we know either knows about us or will soon find out. It’s so fucking… weird. What about you? Are you okay with all this?”
“I’m fine. I talked to my folks and my brothers yesterday, but I want to see them before we go back to New York.”
“Sure.” The answer was automatic, though the idea of hanging out with the McBrides scared the hell out of me. No doubt it showed on my face.
“Hey, don’t worry. We’ll do fun things too.”
> “Like what?”
Adam gave me a devilish grin, then pulled me against him so our naked bodies were perfectly aligned. When I jutted my hips against his, he bit my bottom lip. “Lots of this.”
“I like this plan so far.”
Adam rolled me onto my back and pulled my hands above my head. Then he swayed his hips so his leaking cock teasingly brushed against mine. It felt nice, but it wasn’t enough.
“And I want to take you by the old Sugar Patch. Ian’s shop is down the street from there. He’s going to get the keys from the real estate agent and let us in when we’re ready.”
I hummed by way of response, when he lifted himself to support his weight on his hands and then pushed my knees to my chest. He slid his hard shaft alongside mine before adjusting his cock to nudge my hole. “But that can wait. It’s just us… naked… in bed… on a cold winter morning. What do you want to do first?”
“This. All day,” I moaned as his talented hands moved south. “Just this.”
WE SPENT most of that day in bed. We agreed no cell phones, no computers, no television, and nobody was allowed to breach our haven away from the real world. At least for twenty-four hours. There was food in the fridge, wood next to the fireplace, and a shelf stacked high with old board games and puzzles. I doubted Monopoly or Parcheesi would ever sound like better options than a three-day sexathon with Adam, but it was good to have options. Though after a day spent almost entirely in bed, I was ready to explore the town. Much to Adam’s surprise.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I haven’t been here in years. We’ll go see the Sugar Patch and… I don’t know. Go hang out in the square and check out the old fountains.” I kept my tone light as I pulled my black beanie onto my head.
Adam didn’t bother hiding his skepticism. “I thought you hated this place. How did it go from being the destination to avoid to a tourist hot spot for the badass guitarist?”
I huffed a half laugh. “Slight exaggeration there, McBride. I’m just… curious. I want to try to see it with adult eyes. Besides, my ass is sore. It’s your turn next, baby.”
I snickered when he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. He recovered quickly, though. He rustled the keys in his thick jacket and then pointed at the door.
“Let’s make this quick.”
Chapter 10
THE LIGHT snowfall from the previous evening had melted, but the sky was still an ominous shade of gray. It looked like more weather was on the way. However, the muted landscape didn’t diffuse the aura of cheer from the storefronts on Main Street. The old streetlamps lining the town square were wreathed in greenery. They lent a festive feel to the otherwise starkness of the bare trees and dry fountains that graced the center area.
I pressed my nose against the SUV’s window and pointed at an empty parking spot near the pharmacy. “Let’s stop here.”
“I’m not buying condoms or lube from Mrs. Pritchard,” Adam said in a serious tone as he pulled in front of the old brick building.
I guffawed merrily. “Oh my God, the thought alone is cringe-worthy. I can’t believe she still works there.”
“Mrs. P. is eighty-five, but she’s sharp as a tack and she’ll never retire.”
“She’ll ask questions.”
“Yeah, like ‘what’s your favorite brand?’ or ‘do you prefer ribbed or smooth?’ And then she’ll repeat the conversation verbatim to my mother, like she did when I was in high school. Mom reported that Mrs. P. sold me lubed, smooth Trojans. It was mortifying.” He shivered dramatically.
My grin nearly split my face in two. “Magnum?”
“Of course,” he said with a wicked grin. “We have forty-five minutes before we meet Ian and the listing agent. Where to first?”
I pointed at the nearly empty square across the street. “There.”
IT FELT strange to be back. The last time I’d been in Springville was for Adam’s wedding. It had been a quick trip for me. I attended the ceremony, but I only lasted an hour at the reception. It was held at the Springville Country Club, and unfortunately memories of my dad’s memorial service there eight years prior had marred my enjoyment. Or maybe it was the nagging feeling something wasn’t right about the union I’d just witnessed.
But as we made our way to the town square, nodding absently to a couple of familiar faces, I wondered for the first time ever if I’d been too hasty. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I wouldn’t be settling down in Springville anytime soon, but I hadn’t necessarily hated growing up here. Truthfully I didn’t know how I felt about it anymore. It looked like anyone’s ideal of small-town America. It was picturesque and pretty with lovely old trees and stately brick buildings. Everyone was friendly and welcoming and swore it was the perfect place to raise a family. I supposed I was disenchanted by the hypocrisy I’d sensed in the sentiment within my own family. Not so much with people like the McBrides. They flourished here.
I glanced sideways at Adam, noting the hint of pink on his cheeks from the chill. Walking beside him was a rush I hadn’t counted on. It harkened back to the heady crush I’d harbored years ago. But this time it wasn’t unrequited. He was mine. I didn’t have to use my imagination to wonder what he looked like naked. I knew he was a god. Just like I knew he was superstitious and had a habit of always stepping into his briefs, jeans, and even socks right foot first. And that he always squeezed the toothpaste from the middle and usually left his wet towels on the bathroom floor. Better yet, I knew what it felt like when he kissed me and when he moved inside me. The sounds he made and the—
“Do you want to get coffee? It’s cold out here.”
“No, let’s sit for a minute,” I replied, pointing at a vacant bench partially hidden by a giant holly bush.
Adam followed me to the bench and chuckled lightly when I informed him this was “my” bench.
“How do you figure?” he asked, stuffing his hands into pockets as he propped his long legs on the base of the enormous fountain.
“I carved my initials—” I cocked my head and studied the deep indentations on the green painted bench. “—there. See it?”
“Barely, but yeah, I see it. Hmm. Little Isaac defacing public property. I’m shocked. How old were you?”
“Eleven. Kevin Greer dared me and then told on me.”
Adam threw his head back and laughed. “Did you get in trouble?”
“No. I don’t think my folks knew what to say. ‘Don’t do it again’ worked, I guess.”
“Ha! That didn’t work for me. I bet my initials are on every bench in this square and on the trees too.”
“You were a hooligan,” I snorted.
“Yep. You know the car wash up the street?” He waited for my nod before he continued. “Mark Jenkins and I used to fill up water balloons and wait on that bluff above the exit to hit the newly washed cars before they pulled out of the lot.”
“Assholes.”
“Complete dicks,” he agreed with a happy grin. “And when it got dark, we’d tie fishing wire from one side of the street to the other and wait for the first sucker to drive through it.”
“Wow. Good times,” I snarked.
“Small-town fun. We moved on to throwing silly string at random people on the sidewalk from a deserted room in Pete West’s dad’s office building, right over there.” Adam twisted on the bench and gestured across the street with a chuckle. “That was fucking hysterical… until Pete beaned the mayor. God, it was so funny watching his dad apologize to that old geezer with neon goop all over his bald head. Pete was trying so hard not to laugh that it cracked me up. Mayor Nicholson went beet red and got that creepy look in his eye and I knew I was doomed. My parents weren’t happy when he personally called to inform them their son was a miscreant. I don’t think I was allowed to do much besides go to school and practice for two weeks. It was torture.”
“You were a bad boy, McBride. I actually remember that day. I was with Ned doing homework at your kitchen table when your mom got that call. She
was so mad,” I said, shaking my head in mock consternation. “She laughed at first. Dealing with the mayor was the part she didn’t like. She kept saying he was a hateful asshole with no sense of humor.”
“Sounds about right. How do you remember that?”
“I loved your house. It was always a little crazy there. Never dull and never quiet.”
“True.”
I looked up at the enormous fountain and the statue of the founder of Springville, James I. Dalton. “When I was a kid, this was my favorite spot. It’s hard to see around this bush, so you can pretend you’re alone for a while. I’d stare up at this guy and wonder if I looked like him. His middle name is my first name, you know. I figured that meant we probably had a few things in common. What do you think? See any resemblance?”
Adam pursed his lips thoughtfully, then grasped my chin and made a show of tilting my head and glancing up at the likeness of my adopted great-great-grandfather. “Your nose.”
“Fuck you,” I said without heat. “That dude had a beak!”
Adam snickered appreciatively. “Just kidding. You look like Leo, which, if you don’t mind me saying, is a compliment. He’s hot.”
I smacked his arm hard. “Are you serious? That’s disgusting!”
“How?” He rubbed his bicep and gave me a wide-eyed innocent look. “It’s just an observation. He’s a good-looking guy.”
“Hmph. I wouldn’t know. I view him strictly as the guy my mom left my dad and me for. Bio blood means nothing in our scenario.”
“I thought you liked Leo?”
“He’s fine, but he’s… hers. Not mine. And maybe it’s childish to still think this way, but let’s face it, he’s the reason my parents divorced. He’s the reason everything went sideways.”
“Really? Don’t you think maybe that was where it was heading and he just sped up the process?”