“Finch has an acting gig on a soap opera right now, so he’ll be able to pay if the guy comes back.”
“Shouldn’t that sleazy producer be the one paying?”
“He’s since divorced the wife, so I don’t think he cares. Besides, he’s the one who did the recording.”
“Wow. You think he’s behind the blackmail?”
Bax slid his arms around her waist. “It might be his retirement plan. I don’t know much. I do stay in touch with Finch, Aaron, and Seth, but it’s like a once a month group text kind of thing.”
“Not Tyler?”
Bax’s eyes slid sideways. “Tyler is trouble. So much fun when he’s up, such bad news when he’s down.”
“Bipolar?”
“There had to be one. It’s the music business. I’m the drug addict, Tyler’s crazy, Finch is the sex addict.”
“What about Aaron and Seth?”
“Aaron’s the religious kid who lost his faith in the real world.”
“And Seth?”
“Caught between two worlds. Half Japanese, half Jamaican. He doesn’t know if he wants to be Rihanna or Yoko Ono.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
“Is he a fashion world darling or a conceptual artist,” Bax explained. “He’s torn between commerce and art. It’s got him paralyzed. I get it. I have my moments.”
“And right now?”
“I’m concentrating on family and hot local girls.”
She slid her hands up his arms. “Bax, you know you’re totally irresistible. Thirty looks really good on you.”
“Why, thank you, ma’am.” The corners of his mouth curled up.
His lips were so sexy. She wanted to lick them, bite them. And why not? “Am I going to regret this?”
“Never. Today has shown me how much everyone around here likes you. I’m not going to mess up the local sweetheart.”
She moved her mouth in closer to his. “Is that what I am?”
His breath ghosted along her upper lip. “Yep. Not just my cousins who think the world of you.”
When their lips finally met, her mind went blank. The pressure of his soft mouth took her down. She pressed her breasts against his hard chest as her nipples pebbled. Her pelvis tilted and he slid his thigh between her legs.
“Spend the night,” he invited, his hands sliding along her hips.
Chapter Six
Bax rolled over in bed on Tuesday morning. His cell phone rang with the ring tone Haldana had attached to her number, some Drake remix. The bed felt cold under his arm as he reached to the bedside table and picked up his phone. Unfortunately, the other side didn’t hold the soft warmth of a beautiful woman. Instead, the flannel sheets were icy with December’s unfriendly cold.
“Took you long enough,” Haldana said after he croaked his hello. “Company?”
“No, Yakima didn’t want to spend the night.”
“Why not?”
“Probably because I didn’t use the “girlfriend” word when I suggested it.” Though she had called him irresistible, but with her, he didn’t want to be the guy that just made a girl crazy for action between the sheets anymore. He wanted to be liked. So he hadn’t pulled out all the old rock star moves, just been himself.
“She’s not sixteen. She doesn’t expect that. You met again, what, a little over a week ago?”
“It’s just that—” It’s what he was thinking, but he never said it. They’d moved from the kitchen to the sofa. He’d lit a fire and then attempted to stoke one in her. His new girl. A regular person to take his mind off Remy Rose, who was anything but.
“What?”
“We were interrupted. She received a phone call from a potential client.” He’d seen the siren light of sensuality fade in the excitement of a job opportunity.
“Are you telling me you want her to be your girlfriend? Like for real?”
He coughed. “She’s a nice girl. But the truth is, catering a sixteen-person holiday dinner is more exciting to her than I am. By the time she hung up the call, all she wanted to do was to go home and prep for her first-thing-in-the-morning meeting with the family.” Maybe he actually needed the rock star moves to score.
“So you’re more into her than she is into you?”
Unfortunately. “That’s my take on it.” He punched his pillow and settled back into it.
Haldana’s words came out choppy, as if she hadn’t been sure of what she was going to say. “Are you going to stay?”
He thought of Yakima, kissing her goodbye at the garage door and watching her leave. Leaving, staying, he no longer knew which was best. “Certainly for the holidays. But if my brothers don’t want me around, there’s not much point in staying longer than that.”
“What about your cousins?” Haldana asked. “And what about Yakima? Give her time. It’s hard to start a new business. You have to be patient with her.”
“And give her work so she can stay in business. I’m going to hand deliver the invitations to my big holiday party this Saturday. We’ll see what everyone’s mood is.”
“Who are you inviting?”
“Locals I still know. I thought I’d invite Yakima’s family. And the Ericksons are flying in from California. Maybe some friends from Los Angeles too.”
“I haven’t seen the Ericksons for years. They’re my relatives, not yours, right?”
“Yes, your mother and Beau Erickson were first cousins. His kids are in our age group.”
“I’ve heard the buzz about their new television show. It’s cool to have so much talent in the family. The Battlefield branch is boring.”
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, these celebrity talents. I lost my career when I hurt my wrist, and Beau spent his treasure hunting fortune on his late wife’s cancer treatments. Obviously it wasn’t mega-millions. And I know his son Crowe spent years attempting to prove he had the goods.”
“I guess. Have fun delivering invites. I’ve already talked to Yakima this morning and she said she’d work on your menu after her dinner party meeting. We might end up having two parties to cater the same night, one for her and one for me.”
So Haldana had probably known what had happened last night all along, sneaky brat. “You sound excited. Did she say when she’d tell me about it?”
“I think she’s planning to stop by your house tonight. So maybe you’ll get a second chance to ask her to be your girlfriend.” Haldana made kissing noises, chuckled, and disconnected the call.
Bax rubbed sleep out of his eyes and leaned his head against the rustic wood headboard that had looked nice in the store, but wasn’t so comfortable behind any part of his anatomy. At least it didn’t encourage him to laze around in bed. Time to take a shower and put his humble-face on.
~
An hour later, he watched a few lazy snowflakes drift across the back porch as he drank his second cup of coffee. He closed the lid of his laptop and left it on the table. The weather forecast didn’t make anything of the snow. Around here, any white stuff made everyone hysterical, so he had to assume driving around town would be snow-free.
He glanced at his stack of invites. So retro. But he couldn’t use Evite because he didn’t have most of the locals’ email addresses. So, he picked them up and sorted through, picking out his immediate neighbors, then shrugged into a flannel jacket and a cowboy hat. The area was just rural enough to tolerate the look.
The soil wasn’t rich enough for farming right around here, but it had been flat, so until the population had encroached, turning it into a suburb of a suburb of Portland, cows had dotted the land instead of hybrid SUVs. But there were still plenty of small farms and ranching operations around the edges.
A few neighbors were out, taking advantage of the watery sun to walk animals. Dog lovers were abundant around here and most of the dog walkers had two or more dogs. He exchanged greetings with half a dozen people as he placed invitation envelopes in the dozen upscale houses at his end of the street. It was always wise
to meet your immediate neighbors.
Then, he went back to his garage and drove over to his father’s house and distributed invitations to his neighbors. He stopped at his cousin Rah Rah’s primary school, where she was the special education teacher, and left a stack of invitations so she could invite everyone she wanted to on staff.
Then, he made his way into the cluster of businesses in old town Battlefield. Some of the area had been settled in the 1840s. Battlefield had been tiny as recently as the 1950s, but had become the surrounding area’s shopping district since then. Because he was that rare beast, an actual native, his family knew most of the small business owners.
At least three-quarters of the people manning the counters at the small salons, pet groomers, chiropractors, restaurants, bars, boutiques, and specialty businesses recognized him. Half of those, he knew, because they hadn’t moved on in the twelve years he’d been gone. Some of the others identified themselves as people he or his family had been to school with.
He recognized one person despite the twelve years since he’d seen him. Quin Wannassay. He’d be thirty-four now, Yakima’s oldest brother. They’d never known each other well as Quin had been out of his family’s home by the time Bax lived next door. He’d hung out some with Jay, the middle sibling.
“Hey,” Bax said, when his turn came at the counter. “This your store, Quin?”
The man’s dark eyes narrowed as he swept Bax up and down, then his shoulders relaxed. “Just opened it last year.”
Bax’s gaze captured the displays of specialty marijuana underneath the glass counter. “How’s business?”
“Can’t complain.”
Bax’s attention settled on the large diamond studs in Quin’s ears. “Doesn’t look like it. And you’re the only person on the street who had clients at the counter when I walked in.”
“We have the biggest sign,” Yakima’s brother said laconically. Successful businessman or not, he didn’t have that slightly hyper, super-positive persona many born salespeople did. Instead, he rocked a more country look, with jeans and a flannel shirt. His hair was long and tied back with a queue, his ancestry apparent in the color of his skin and hair, and a distinctive hawk-like nose.
Bax decided he and Quin didn’t need to spend time catching up. This guy wasn’t going to settle his nerves before he braved the car lot. He pulled an invitation out of his jacket and slapped it on the counter. “For my party, Saturday night. Hope you can come. Plus one.”
“Why are you giving my sister so much work?” Quin asked, his brow furrowing. The skin around his eyes was lined. He must have done outdoor work before opening this business.
“She’s the only caterer in town that I know of,” Bax said. “She hasn’t failed me so far. Why?”
“I’d have thought she’d be the last person you’d want to hang with around here.”
Bax frowned as he stared at the man. In the mirror behind the counter above Quin, he saw two young men enter and go to a display of pipes in the corner. “That makes no sense to me.”
Quin’s eyebrows lifted and his lips curled in derision. “You mean you don’t know?”
“Know what, Quin?” Bax shifted his stance, alert to some kind of threat.
Quin snorted. “You don’t know that Yakima claimed to be pregnant with your child just after you left?”
Bax’s chest rattled with a laugh, his first instinct. “Yakima? My little next-door neighbor? The babysitter?”
“Yes, my sister,” Quin snarled.
“Well, what happened to the baby?”
Quin shrugged as one of the customers brought a selection of vape accessories up to the counter, ignoring Bax. He stepped aside so the man could be rung up. The customer, maybe four or five years younger than Bax, and probably a little stoned based on the glazed, reddened eyes, finally noticed him. He opened his mouth as if to ask a question.
Bax was used to the behavior, the mental processing of people who almost remembered who he was but not quite. Around here, that might not be a celebrity thing even. He might have been friends with a member of the person’s family.
“Bax?” the guy asked, as Quin gave him his change and bagged his purchased.
“That’s me.”
“Huh. I thought you were long gone.” The guy blinked slowly.
Bax kept his expression polite and neutral, not knowing where this was going. Quin wasn’t offering any clues since he hadn’t greeted the man by name.
“You gonna open a nightclub around here or something?”
“Ummm, no,” Bax said. “Why would I do that?”
The guy shrugged. “Isn’t much to do around here and you musicians like the nightlife.”
“If you say so,” Bax said.
The customer glanced at Quin, then back at Bax. “Oh, you’re going to open a cannabis store, right? I saw some celebrities had their own personal shit, am I right?”
Bax did not want to mention his party to this guy. Given Quin’s hostility, he regretted offering the invitation to him as well. But the customer wasn’t moving on. Bax desperately wanted to know what Quin was talking about. Yakima? A pregnancy? She hadn’t mentioned it, nor had his cousins. If it had really happened, it must have long since been forgotten.
He smiled mysteriously, half-lifted his hand in a casual goodbye, and walked out of the shop, figuring he was as likely to come off as enigmatic as anything else. But mostly, he’d just gone numb. He’d thought his family would be his biggest problem around here, not the former neighbors.
~
“Bax isn’t home,” Yakima said into her cell phone at six p.m. that evening. “Any idea where he is, Haldana?”
“Did you have plans?” Bax’s cousin asked.
“I said I’d stop by with the menu for his party. I told you. I wanted to go to Costco to shop tomorrow. I texted him but he isn’t answering.”
“I’ll give you the garage code,” Haldana said, reeling off the digits. “You’re dating, right? I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“I don’t know if dating is what we’re doing, exactly. Hanging out.”
“Less formal but still the real deal,” Haldana said cheerily. “Anyway, go in through the garage. I doubt he locks the door into the kitchen.”
“Why isn’t he getting back to me?” Yakima didn’t like her own tone of voice. Too needy.
“Probably let his cell battery die. Guys, right?”
She squared her shoulders. “Okay, getting out of my van now.”
“Have fun, but don’t tell me about it. He’s my cousin. Ewww.” With a giggle, Haldana terminated the call.
Yakima left her van and tried the garage door code. The door shuddered and began to rise. She left her van in the driveway so that he’d know she was there, and went inside. The house felt empty, the only sounds a hum from the refrigerator and a hiss from an iPod player that had been left on. She noted a new sign of habitation. A metal Santa Claus, stick-thin and grinning cheerily, had appeared in the center of the pristine counter to the left of the stove. Slowly, the house transformed, becoming more than a designer house set.
After she placed her notes on the kitchen table, she peered in the refrigerator. Bax would probably love it if she made him dinner.
About twenty minutes later, she had a mushroom quesadilla on the stove when the doorbell rang. Bax was nowhere to be found, despite his popularity that evening. The house phone had rung a couple of times as well.
She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and went to answer the door. In this town, she could assume she’d know anyone at any door, but the reason she recognized the woman there was not because they were a neighbor, a fellow shopper at the Kroger, or someone her brothers had been to school with.
Remy Rose, the woman at the door, owed her recognition to global stardom. Yakima didn’t know how old she was, around twenty-five probably, but the jet black hair cascading to her collarbones, the famous green eyes, and pointed face, would be recognizable to just about anyone under forty. She’d been famous fo
r nearly a decade already.
“Hi,” Yakima said. She felt underdressed, competitive, in a strange sort of way. While she had better hair, and it was undeniably her hair and not a piece, she certainly didn’t have the perfect porcelain skin or those amazing eyes.
Remy Rose pointed a lacquered blue fingernail downward. Yakima followed the finger to a small Louis Vuitton suitcase. “You can take this in now.”
Yakima glanced into the driveway to see a limousine parked in front of the other bay. A uniformed chauffeur was removing cases from the trunk.
“He’ll bring the cases to the door. You’ll have to take them from there,” Remy explained. “Unless Bax has more employees? I don’t know if he’s been here long enough to hire enough help.”
Yakima’s eyes widened. “I’m not Bax’s employee.”
Remy tilted her head, her hair cascading from one shoulder to the other. “Then what are you doing in his house?”
“I was making dinner for him.”
“So you are his employee.”
“No, a,” she paused, feeling vulnerable. Maybe Haldana shouldn’t have told her how to get in. Maybe she shouldn’t be here. “A friend. An old friend.”
“Hmmpf,” Remy said, and sidled past her into the house. She knocked against an evergreen wreath, newly placed on the door. Yakima straightened it, releasing fragrant tree scent, as the chauffeur came up the walkway, duck-walking under a load of designer suitcases.
“Are you expected?” Yakima asked, turning around. Now, roles reversed, she was in the doorway, and the pop star was in the hall.
Remy stood, hands on her tiny hips, which were covered in a black leather pencil skirt. “I’m his girlfriend. It’s not like I have to schedule.”
Yakima’s stomach growled, but it was dismay, not hunger. She wanted to be sick. Bax had been romancing her when he had a girlfriend back in Los Angeles or wherever someone like Remy Rose lived.
The Rock Star's Christmas Reunion: contemporary holiday romance (A Charisma series novel, The Connollys Book 1) Page 7