Say You're Mine (The Gallaghers Book 1)

by Layla Hagen

  Josie: How was the party? I need details. Pleaaaaase.

  Tess: Can you tell us who your guy is now?

  Skye: So I did some research on the band. It’s Brayden, isn’t it?

  Damn, Skye knew me well.

  Grinning, I made a group, adding all the girls, and named it The Curious Club.

  Isabelle: Since you’re all asking about the same thing, we might as well have a group.

  Josie: Hell yes.

  I also noticed a message from Brayden. He’d sent it late last night.

  Brayden: Did you get home safe?

  It was endearing to me that he always double-checked.

  Isabelle: Sorry, I fell asleep right away and just woke up.

  Brayden: I figured as much.

  Isabelle: Already in Nashville?

  He called me the next second. I put a palm on my belly, barely able to contain my joy.

  “Yes. We already have a radio interview lined up. Starts in ten minutes. Then we have a photo shoot.”

  “Poor you. I plan to be lazy all day.”

  “I’d love to be lazy with you.”

  “Brayden...”

  “Wait, don’t finish that thought. We’ll talk when I’m back, okay? Face-to-face.”

  I smiled, drumming my fingers on my stomach. I wasn’t ready to stop this flirty thing we had going on, so I said, “Okay.”

  “I’ve got to go. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  Damn. If he said swoon-worthy things like that when we met, I was done for.

  As soon as the call ended, I glanced at the screen. The Curious Club was alight with messages.

  Time to bring my girls up to date.

  ***

  My lazy Sunday turned out to be exactly what I needed to recharge, but the next morning, I still barely dragged myself out of bed. I was a bit slow on Mondays in general. I took a cup from the cupboard that said “Just another fabulous Monday” on it and filled it with steamy hot coffee. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I checked my phone. I had a message from Brayden.

  Brayden: I have an idea.

  Isabelle: Holy shit, so early in the day? I’m barely sipping my first coffee.

  Brayden: Good.

  I chuckled.

  Isabelle: You think chatting me up on a Monday morning before I’ve even finished drinking my first cup of coffee is a good idea? You’re in for a surprise, mister. I need at least two to stop being grouchy.

  Brayden: Then I’ll wait until you’ve had two.

  I grinned at my phone, dying to know what he wanted to say. It took me all of five minutes to drink both coffees. I’d never been that fast. And it amused me that he waited for me to actually do it.

  Isabelle: I’m done.

  Brayden: Someone’s in a hurry.

  Isabelle: You made me curious.

  Brayden: Sasha scheduled a meeting for us with you on Friday. I want you just for me after that.

  Warmth coursed through me, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I wanted to say yes. I very much wanted to, but was it a good idea? I laughed at my silliness. Why was I overthinking this? It was harmless flirting. And a few smoking-hot kisses.

  Isabelle: Why?

  Brayden: You know why. Can I call you, or are you in a session already?

  Isabelle: No, but I’m running late. I need to be out the door in a few minutes.

  Brayden: What’s your schedule like?

  Isabelle: I have back-to-back sessions from nine to six in the evening. We can talk after?

  Brayden: That’s when I’m attending the talk shows. Mornings?

  Isabelle: During my coffee wake-up time? You like to live dangerously.

  Brayden: Always.

  Isabelle: Okay. But starting tomorrow, right? I’m already running late today.

  Brayden: Tomorrow.

  I grinned, hurrying to the bathroom and getting ready in record time. On the way to my office in Brooklyn, I got a headache. It happened a lot because mid-July in New York was horribly humid and the AC in the subway was freezing. On the bright side, I got a few more messages from Brayden. The only problem with my apartment was the horribly long commute, but it was worth it because the rent wasn’t high.

  I felt like I was in high school again for the rest of the day, waiting for the boy I liked to text me. I checked my phone constantly, though I was discreet during sessions with clients—only checking my smartwatch for notifications of messages. If I got a message, I was so excited to read it that I completely blocked out what the client was saying. If I didn’t get a message, I was wondering what he was up to. And that had to stop, as I was doing a disservice to my clients.

  ***

  On Tuesday, I woke up with a solution: I’d just leave both my phone and my smartwatch in my purse. But right now, I had Brayden on my mind. We’d agreed to talk at seven thirty.

  I snapped a picture after the second coffee, sending it to him along with the caption “I’m ready.”

  I sat on my fluffy couch, staring at my phone. My face exploded into a grin when the screen lit up with his name.

  “So punctual,” I teased.

  “I don’t want to waste a minute.”

  “How come you get up so early?”

  “We have a gym routine.”

  “Now that I’d love to see.” Holy shit, did I say that out loud?

  Brayden chuckled. “Always happy to give you a private show.”

  I groaned. “Maybe we should rethink this talking in the morning thing. My thoughts are even more unfiltered.”

  “I like that.”

  We chatted about everything from my breakfast to his plan for the day. Before I knew it, I had to leave.

  “I want to hear your voice tonight. Let’s talk after my TV appearance,” he said. “This wasn’t enough.”

  “Okay,” I whispered, knowing I was going to think about the phone call the whole day.

  ***

  During every break, I rushed to the closet where I kept my bag, checking both my watch and phone to see if I had any messages..

  I was so excited, I couldn’t even explain it, especially since we hadn’t talked about the elephant in the room. I didn’t bring it up, and neither did he. But I was enjoying talking to him too much. Perhaps we could get this flirting out of our system by the time he returned, and then we’d behave.

  At lunch, Sasha texted to ask if I could meet her for drinks after work so we could discuss the next steps. I agreed to it because I had no plans.

  They’d done another Facebook live video yesterday from Nashville. I’d looked through the comments and wanted to discuss them with her. The talk show they went on yesterday was also streamed on YouTube, so I read the comments there as well. They weren’t as enlightening as the Facebook lives, because the band didn’t have control over the content.

  I met Sasha in the lobby of the Plaza Hotel, smack-dab in Manhattan. I knew the building from my guided tours, as it appeared in a lot of movies, like Home Alone 2 and Sex and the City, but I’d never been inside. It was all plush expensive carpets, crystal chandeliers, and golden accents. The place dripped with old luxury.

  Sasha was wearing a knockout black cocktail dress. I’d only ever seen her in office clothes before and noticed how lovely she looked tonight. I hadn’t wanted to change at the office, so I’d dressed casual chic this morning, with a knee-length red dress that had a deep V neckline. My favorite part was the black belt around my middle.

  Just to be on the safe side, I left my phone in my purse, on mute, so I wouldn’t be tempted to look if I heard a message. I wasn’t sure how she’d feel about this thing between Brayden and me, and until I knew what it was, it made no sense to bring it up now.

  “How come you’re not away with the band?” I asked after the waiter brought us peanuts and the menus.

  “Good God, I don’t always travel with them. It would be so exhausting. They don’t need me with them in person. I’m always available on the phone anyway. I’ll travel with them during the first
part of their tour, but I don’t go away every time. Now, let’s see what you’ve got before we start on the cocktails.”

  “Sure.” I took the iPad out of my purse, and of course I couldn’t resist and also checked my phone. My stomach bottomed out. I didn’t have any new messages. Then I remembered the talk show had started. God, I was in trouble.

  I showed Sasha the psychological profiling I’d done on the band and their fans and highlighted what they had in common. I’d also made a list of topics they could tackle during their live videos, or even in interviews, if the host was cooperative. It was all designed to fill in that gap the label had identified—the fans wanted personal tidbits from the band, not promo material thrown at them. And if they responded well to this communication strategy, I was certain sales would go up. I also thought they’d reach a new audience—younger consumers who spent all their time on social media and didn’t respond well to ads.

  “Oh, this is wonderful,” Sasha exclaimed. “I kept forgetting to ask you about it.”

  “I thought it might be useful.”

  I loved giving my clients an actionable plan, and it was easy in this case. I always preferred specific instructions over vague ones.

  “You know, I was antsy when I first came up with this idea. But I’m so glad I followed that instinct.”

  “I am too. It’s by far the most exciting assignment I’ve done in a while.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. Want to come by the cottage on Friday afternoon once they land? You could discuss this with them. I’m sure they’d love to hear it from you.”

  I hoped my poker face was on so she wouldn’t realize that I already knew of their arrival—thanks to Brayden, of course.

  “Sure.”

  “Perfect. And now, no more talk of the band. I asked you out here to say thanks for taking on the project. Drinks are on me.”

  “Oh, that’s very generous of you. Thanks.”

  We ended up ordering white wine instead of cocktails, plus a cheese platter to go with it so we wouldn’t drink on an empty stomach. I liked Sasha. She was fun and easygoing.

  “We were so lucky that Brayden liked you right away. Otherwise, there would have been no convincing the others.”

  “I kind of got that. They listen to him.”

  “He’s always been in charge. At least for as long as I’ve been with them. Thomas is easier to deal with since he’s gotten married. He was a bit of a wild card before, but now he’s calmed down and is settling into family life. I only wish the rest of the boys would find someone, but I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon.”

  “Why is that?” I tried not to sound too curious.

  “They’re all enjoying bachelorhood too much. And Brayden especially is wary after how his last serious relationship turned out.”

  I bit my lip to keep from asking more. I didn’t want Sasha to get suspicious.

  “He’s been very private ever since. I don’t even know where he lives, outside of their cottage, that is. I’ve never been to his place.”

  We spoke a little about our families while devouring the cheese. She was a born and bred New Yorker, and her entire family was here. I became melancholic as I told her about Mom and Dad back in Montana.

  At around nine o’clock, she kept checking her watch. I pestered her until she told me that her husband had promised to pick her up on his way home.

  “Go, really. It’s no problem.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’m going to stay here a while longer, enjoy the view. And finish my wine.” I was on my second glass and feeling rested.

  “Okay. But we have to do this again soon.”

  “Sure.”

  A smile played on my lips after she left. I hoped she couldn’t tell that I’d been thrilled she was cutting our date short, because I had a phone date with a certain sexy rock star in half an hour. I’d already wondered how I could slip away from her before she told me of her plans. I hadn’t wanted to postpone the call—I longed to hear his voice.

  Damn, damn, damn. I really thought we were going to get the flirting out of our system? That was going to be impossible.

  ***

  Brayden

  Late-night shows were my favorite. The hosts were looking to entertain audiences with a mix of humor and music. They rarely put us on the spot with annoying questions, and I appreciated it. A car picked us up from the studio once the show was over.

  “Let’s get drinks at our usual place,” Lars suggested. It was a bar close to the hotel with a generous back room they rented to us when we were in Nashville. Usually I was all for drinks after a show, but the phone call with Isabelle was coming up in fifteen minutes, and I’d be damned if I was going to miss it.

  “You all go. Drop me off at the hotel.”

  Lars cocked a brow. “Are you sick?”

  “Fuck off.”

  He held up his hands in mock defense. “You’ve never said no to going out for drinks and picking up women.”

  “I’m not interested,” I said.

  Harvey tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “Something’s definitely up with him. But what?”

  Thomas smirked. “I know the signs. No desire for late-night drinks or picking up women. You’re seeing someone and haven’t told us about it.”

  Lars groaned. “Hell no. We don’t need to lose more band members to marital bliss. No offense, man. I’m happy for you, but I hope Harvey and Brayden don’t want to follow in your footsteps.”

  “Lars, stop giving me crap,” I said calmly.

  He ran a hand through his hair, looking perplexed. “Shit, Thomas is right, isn’t he? Who is it?”

  I slid down the partition to the driver, instructing him to stop by the hotel before taking the group to the bar.

  Lars was still looking at me expectantly. I said nothing. I didn’t want them to treat Isabelle any differently, and besides, I had no idea what was going on between us anyway. The only thing I knew was I’d been looking forward to this call all day.

  Lars was still looking a bit lost as I got out of the car at the back entrance of the hotel. It was almost comical.

  I’d grown up with parents who’d always been loyal to each other. They were the perfect example of marital bliss and insisted life was better when you had a partner by your side. But it wasn’t my experience. It was easier to keep a wall between myself and the rest of the world. I’d never wanted to let anyone close, until I met Isabelle.

  She was real. Talking with her was like talking with an old friend who I liked a lot. She was normal, didn’t care I was famous or any of that crap—she legitimately liked me for me. She was beautiful, her red hair was gorgeous, and her smile did something to me. The woman was special, and I couldn’t wait to find out more about her, to be with her.

  The back entrance was empty, though it was late enough that I probably could have used the main one. The lobby wouldn’t be crowded at this time of night, but I didn’t want to risk it. The chance of being recognized was higher here in Nashville, where everyone and their grandmother were involved in the music industry.

  I arrived in my room with a few minutes to spare. Sitting in the brown leather armchair next to the window, I called Isabelle five minutes before our set time.

  “Hello, handsome,” she answered.

  I smiled right away at the sound of her voice.

  “Isabelle.”

  “Just so you know, I’m in public, so don’t make me blush or anything.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  She laughed. “No you won’t. I can tell from your voice.”

  “Why are you in public?”

  “I met with Sasha for drinks, and it lasted longer than I thought it would.”

  “She’s there now?”

  “No, she’s gone already. I didn’t want to leave and risk not getting home in time.”

  It pleased me that she’d been looking forward to our call as much as I had.

  “I didn’t know you two were me
eting tonight.”

  “It was spontaneous. We talked a bit about the response to the Facebook live videos, then about you.”

  “Me? What did she say?”

  “It’s a secret.” She laughed throatily. The sound sent a jolt below my belt.

  “Tell. Me.”

  “So bossy.”

  She had no idea how bossy I wanted to get with her. I’d tell her exactly where I wanted her and how I wanted her. I’d map her entire body with my mouth. I was getting hard imagining her reactions, the way she’d open up to me. I’d bring her to the edge, until she begged. Only then would I give her an orgasm before starting all over again.

  “Always.”

  “You know that saying, ‘I don’t take orders. I barely follow suggestions’?”

  That was true. I’d sensed that about her since the day we met.

  “You’d enjoy following mine. I promise you that.”

  “Oh, Brayden, Brayden, Brayden. What am I going to do with you?”

  “You have time to decide until Friday. Right now, why don’t you tell me about your day?”

  “Well, I had back-to-back sessions. On my lunch break, I tried to get a reservation at my brothers’ favorite Chinese restaurant to celebrate a huge deal they closed, but they were fully booked until summer. I want to surprise my brothers, so I’ll try again tomorrow.”

  “What restaurant? I’ll make it happen.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t want to sound cocky, but I can make it happen.” I wanted to make her happy, and this was important for her.

  “That would be great, honestly. Thanks. I don’t want to miss this chance to celebrate.”

  “Consider it done. I’ll get you a table for tomorrow.”

  “Oh my God, are you serious? That’s amazing! I’ll text you the name and number. They both really love it. They’ll be so happy. They like surprising me with stuff all the time, so I can’t wait to actually pull it off this time.”

  Hearing the excitement in Isabelle’s voice did things to me. I’d have Paul follow up on it tonight. He wasn’t just my driver but also my assistant.

  “How do they surprise you?”

  “Well, when I moved to New York, they came to help me with the furniture and stuff. They lived in Washington back then. And now they take me out to dinner, or drop by my apartment to check if I need anything. They’re great brothers.”