“What?” I was annoyed, and I made no attempt to disguise that fact.
“Nothing. I’m just surprised to see you here this morning.”
“I am on shift with you.”
Dean took a sip before he continued with poorly–disguised sarcasm. “You had a hot date last night. I figured you’d be sleeping over at Alison’s place.”
Oh shit. “Look, Dean, if you have something to say…”
“All I’m saying is that you usually spend the night with Alison when you guys hook up. I figured last night was no different.”
Dean paused and took another leisurely sip of coffee while I waited for the other shoe to drop. When it came, his disapproval made me wince.
“I guess I was wrong about you after all. You rebounded pretty damn quick. I mean, you broke it off with Kit three days ago and then you show up last night with Alison.” Dean fixed me with a level stare that made me squirm. “I was wrong about you not being mercenary enough to handle this whole affair thing. You’re a pro.”
“I didn’t sleep with Alison.”
“Look man, it’s none of my business. You can sleep with whoever you…”
I cut him off. “You’re right. It’s none of your fucking business, but since you decided to stick your nose in anyway, shut up and listen to me.” The silence between us crackled and I took the time to steady my temper. “I didn’t sleep with Alison. Nothing happened. When it came down to it, I couldn’t.”
Dean sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. When he looked at me he had that sad and concerned look that he did so well. I preferred pissed.
“What happened?”
I didn’t even know where to start. I wasn’t even sure what happened last night, only that it ended with Alison pissed and my sleeping alone at the firehouse. Damned if I knew what to say. The women usually waited until after I fucked them to get mad at me.
Dean solved my dilemma by asking what he wanted to know. “Did you go to Alison’s after you left Stoney’s?”
“Yeah. She wanted me to stay over and I thought I was into it. But, I just couldn’t. Nothing felt right with her, and I ended up making a really lame excuse and left. I didn’t want to drive all the way out to my house, so I came here.”
I sat down on the barstool next to Dean. Alison had been really hurt when I bailed on her and that was the last thing I’d wanted to do. But I did it anyway. “I knew the minute I kissed her that it was a no–go.” I decided to say what had been rolling though my head on a constant loop for three days. “I can’t stop thinking about Kit.”
Talk about an understatement.
I’d thought about her every second since she’d left in the cab. I’d reached for the phone to call her so many times that I’d locked it in the glove compartment of my truck to take away the temptation. I dreamed about her and woke up so hard I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I thought about her when I was on calls—something not only dangerous to myself but also to my fellow firefighters.
When Sarah died, work was the only respite from the constant gnawing in my gut. The vision of her lying half in and half out of the car and the last terrible words we spoke to each other showed up in my dreams. But this time, even work wasn’t helping. And as I’d predicted, I couldn’t even listen to goddamn radio without her songs coming on and in this city good luck trying to find a non–country station. I was fucked because there was no getting away from it.
“Call her. Admit you screwed up,” Dean said.
“I can’t.”
“Then figure out how to get over her.”
“I can’t.”
And I don’t want to.
Suddenly, it was clear. No matter how this had started, I needed her in my life. She was everything I wanted and by some fluke of the universe, she wanted me. The morning at the lake, the way she’d known what I needed, known how to soothe the hurt from my shift, had scared the crap out of me. I might run into burning buildings but she was the brave one that day. She’d made herself vulnerable and open to this thing growing between us. I’d seen it in her eyes, heard it in the way she’d said my name, and saw it in her hurt expression when I’d stood in a dirty parking lot and threw it away.
I jumped when Shannon poked her head around the corner. “Max! You’ve got to turn on the TV. Kit’s in trouble. She got in a fight or something.”
Not waiting for her to finish, I grabbed the remote for the kitchen TV. I punched a button and the local country music channel blazed to life with a picture of Kit kissing Tyler. I jerked back. No fucking way.
Shannon touched my arm and murmured, “Ignore that. It’s nothing.”
When Kit pulled away from Tyler, with a horrified look on her face, I let out the breath I’d been holding. In the next second, I lost all ability to speak as Kit launched herself at a reporter and clocked him with a right jab to his jaw. The man fell to his knees, but instead of backing off, he snarled something at Kit which caused her to hit the guy repeatedly until Josef pulled her off and took her away from public view.
What the hell?
“She’s got a nice right hook,” Dean said. I ignored him.
The TV program reverted to two reporters speaking animatedly, while a mug shot of a woman—a woman who looked like an older, tired version of Kit—was displayed on the screen. I turned up the volume, and focused on the screen and the perky, female anchor.
“… breaking news regarding county music star, Kit Landry. Last night at a label press party, Kit was approached by a reporter who disclosed that her mother has been institutionalized for the past five years. This news comes as a shock to the star’s fans as it was commonly reported that her mother passed away several years before she came to Nashville. The usually cool and collected singer was removed by security after she physically attacked the reporter.”
A male anchor picked up the story while a photo of Kit flashed onto the screen. “That’s right, Tammy. The story, which appeared in this morning’s edition of the Daily Scoop, states that Elizabeth Landry was repeatedly arrested for drug possession, drug dealing, and prostitution while Kit was growing up. According to the article, she finally suffered an overdose which left her mentally disabled one year after Kit’s father died in an accident. It also reports that Kit took over her care and moved her to a private sanitarium just after her first record deal was signed. The real question is why Kit lied about her mother for all this time.”
Tammy nodded vigorously as she responded, “Well, Jim, the singer is holding a press conference at her label headquarters in about an hour and her team says she’ll answer everyone’s questions. Her publicist also announced that her manager, Ron Trent, has been fired and her previous manager, Paul Brandt, is coming out of retirement to take over until a permanent replacement can be found. All of this is right on the heels of Kit’s return after a stint in rehab after a year of erratic emotional behavior leading many to ask if the singer suffers from the same illness as her mother. Stay tuned. We’ll carry the entire press conference live in an hour.”
I turned off the TV and rubbed my hand over my face. My mind reeled with all the information. Kit had been carrying around some serious secrets the past few years. Secrets she couldn’t share with me since I’d given her no reason to think I’d stick around. That was going to change.
I pushed through the crowd of people coming into the kitchen and headed towards the door and my truck. Just as I turned the doorknob, a hand closed around my arm, pulling me back. It was Dean.
“You going where I think you’re going?”
“Yeah. I’m going to see Kit. I don’t know how I’m going to get to her, but I’ve got to try.” And then I remembered—I was on duty today. “Shit. You’ll tell the captain and get someone to cover for me?”
“You know I will.” Dean reached around, opened the door, and pushed me out the door. “Go get her, man. And don’t take no for an answer. She needs you and you need her.”
I nodded and, in spite of the angst twisting in my gut, I sprinted
across the parking lot, jumped in my truck, and pulled out. I wasn’t entirely sure Kit would see me. Reaching for my phone, I pulled up Bridget’s number and hit the “send” button. If Kit had her phone off or wouldn’t take the call, Bridget was my best bet.
She picked up on the third ring and did nothing to hide her surprise. “Max?”
I pulled out onto the road and headed towards downtown Nashville. “Yeah, Bridget; it’s me.”
She didn’t hesitate to let me know where I stood. “Look Max, this isn’t a good time right now. I need to get back to Kit and you’re the last person I want to talk to right now.”
I cut her off before she got wound up and hung up on me. “I’ll cut to the chase then. I’m coming to the press conference and I need you to get me in. I need to see Kit.”
Bridget laughed into the phone and I could picture her shaking her head in disbelief.
“Max, you broke it off with her because you couldn’t handle whatever was happening between the two of you. Now the shit has really hit the fan. Why would I let you within ten feet of her?”
“You’re right. I was a chicken–shit and bailed on her. I’m not gonna argue—”
“Thanks for your honesty. I’m hanging up now.”
In a panic, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. “No, don’t hang up! I’m the one. That’s why you have to let me in. I’m the one!”
“The one what?”
The words rushed out of me so easily, I knew it was the truth. “Remember, when I asked you who took care of Kit and you told me nobody took care of her? Then you asked me if I was the one who would do it and I couldn’t answer you?” When she didn’t say anything I plowed on. “Well, I’m the one. I’m the one to take care of her. And you’ve got get me in there so I can prove it to her. Please. Help me.”
The silence stretched across the line for what seemed like hours. Come on, Bridget; you know I’m right. Just help me out. I turned on to the block that held the office of her music label and faltered at all of the news personnel and fans milling around the street. I found a spot and pulled the truck over, my hands remaining in a death grip on the steering wheel.
Bridget sighed. “Come around the back and I’ll get you in.” Just before she ended the call, her voice took on a warning tone. “But Max, if you hurt her again, I’ll kill you.”
I jumped out of the truck and sprinted across the street toward the woman who made me break all of my own rules. My heart pounded with adrenaline, the rush similar to what I experienced when I entered a burning building. There was no fire here but I knew my life was at stake—and God help me—this was scarier.
CHAPTER TWENTY–FOUR
Kit
It was times like this that I really missed my daddy.
I looked around the waiting room set up adjacent to the place where I would hold a press conference in less than an hour. It bustled with people from my staff and the record label—all focused on fixing the train wreck formerly known as my career. Liam Connor shot nasty looks at me from across the room and I had to dig deep into the grown–up part of me to resist flipping him the bird. Calm down. All you have to do is bare your soul to a roomful of strangers. Piece of cake.
I hadn’t slept in twenty–four hours. I was running on fumes, ibuprofen, and a Red Bull Bridget had shoved into my hands about two hours ago. Breakfast of champions. Even though this was stressful, I was more than a little relieved that my secret was out and I didn’t have to carry it around anymore. Ron had done me a favor when he’d spilled the beans about my mother, but I still hated his guts. I still didn’t understand why he hadn’t told all about me but I wasn’t going to wait for that other shoe to drop.
I’d talked to Lilah an hour ago and my mother was in her room with extra meds to keep her from getting upset. While security kept the reporters out of the Shady Grove Assisted Living Facility, the additional noise and bustle agitated my mom and the other patients.
I’d taken care of one responsibility—on to the next couple hundred obligations.
I looked around and couldn’t find one person I wasn’t responsible for in this room. Even Bridget was both a friend and an employee, and I was terrified of letting them down. I’d already jeopardized everything by trusting Ron.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
I jumped as a big hand settled on my shoulder. Turning around, I looked up into the clear, blue eyes of Paul Brandt—the man who had been my father figure, my boss, the biggest pain in my ass, and my biggest supporter. God, I loved him. I was humbled that he, with no questions asked, had left Texas to help me.
He tapped me on the nose in that way he did to cheer me up. “It wasn’t your fault. You trusted him and he betrayed you. Nobody blames you and you shouldn’t blame yourself.”
I broke eye contact, the shame leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. “Paul, I should have known.”
He cursed under his breath before grabbing my elbow and leading me away from prying ears. His eyes laser–locked on my face until I was forced to look him in the eye.
“Kitten, you listen to me and take it as the gospel truth. This was not your fault. You had a viper in your camp and didn’t even know it. You’ve always taken responsibility for everyone around you, but you can’t control the bad choices that other people make.” He towered over me, and leaned in close and gentled his tone. “I love you and you’re the bravest kid I know. You took care of your grandparents, your dad and, then, you took care of your mother whenever she strolled back into town to get clean.” Pain flashed in his eyes as he recounted the sad details of my life as if I didn’t already know them. “You’ve spent your life taking care of other people and let your own needs fall by the wayside.”
I was irrationally defensive and angry at his words. “Paul, I worked hard to make things better for the ones I love. I’m not going to apologize for doing what was right.”
“Honey, it ain’t right if it makes you take responsibility for something that you didn’t see coming. Kitten, I’ve watched you give and give and not take anything for yourself.” Paul counted his points off on his fingers. “You don’t go on vacation. You haven’t tried any of the new projects that have been offered to you because they don’t fit your current image. Hell, you gave up Jake because you thought that he deserved to be happy more than you do.”
I opened my mouth to argue with him, but he was right. I’d been afraid to want things for myself when, one day, they’d be gone. I lived on the fringes of my own life. But I didn’t know if I had the strength to do it differently in the future. Max had been the biggest risk I’d taken in a long time and look how that had turned out.
Hugging Paul tightly, I mumbled against his chest. “Have you been watching Oprah again?”
“Dr. Phil.” When I raised an eyebrow at him he protested, “What? The man’s a genius.”
Laughing, I released him and turned towards the mirror mounted on the wall behind me to fix my makeup which was probably messed up from all the emotional crap going down today. “I promise I’ll think about what you said.” I pulled out my makeup. I could still feel him watching me and knew my answer didn’t satisfy him.
“Think about it? Kitten, you need to get a life. A life that includes a man who loves you and is looking out for you.” He paused. “Bridget said there was someone who she thought might be that guy.”
I froze mid–swipe. “Bridget talks too much.”
Paul laughed. “Maybe so. But you don’t tell me squat, so I’m glad she does.” He sidled up next to me and leaned back against the table, his arms crossed casually in front of his chest. He wasn’t fooling me.
“So, he wasn’t the guy?”
I dug into my bag looking for my mascara and maybe avoiding looking at him. “Didn’t Bridget fill you in?
“I’d rather hear it from you.”
I gave up and put down the tube of makeup. “He wasn’t interested in a relationship. Not a bad decision, considering my rock–n–roll lifestyle. He ran for the hills.
Smart man.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t want him to be so smart. Did ya?”
I ignored the question. I’d dodged the same questions from Bridget for two days after Max had broken things off. Max wanted out and getting back together with him wasn’t up to me. For once, none of my celebrity perks could get me what I wanted, because celebrity was exactly what he didn’t want.
Paul rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled softly as I resumed applying my make–up.
“So, this guy… was he a blonde or brunette?”
“Brunette. Why do you want to know?
“Just curious.” He shrugged and stroked a hand along his jaw. “Bridget said he was a firefighter, so he must have been a big guy. About 6’3”? Broad shoulders and biceps as big as my thigh?”
I dropped the lipstick tube in my hand and leveled a look at Paul. “How could you know that?”
With a slow grin he jutted his chin in a direction over my shoulder. “Because I think he just walked through the door.”
Spinning around, my eyes scanned the crowd until I zoned in on the tall figure walking towards me with Bridget.
Max.
His face was blank, but his eyes were the same—golden topaz and filled with simmering heat that caused my heart to go all squishy. Sweet Lord, I’d missed him.
Too much.
I backed up against the table and crossed my arms in front of my chest as he came to a stop right in front of me. My body instinctively leaned towards him and I clenched my hands into fists to keep from touching him. He’s just here because of his hero complex.
Looking at his handsome face, my emotions bounced from anger, to hurt, to hope, and to relief at just seeing him one more time. And that made me mad all over again.
I swallowed hard and turned loose the first words that came to mind. “What the hell are you doing here?”
CHAPTER TWENTY–FIVE
Max
I had expected her to hit me.
I drank in everything about Kit. I was close enough to smell her perfume and feel the heat of her body. She was rigid with hostility, so I resisted the urge to drag her into my arms and bury my face in her glossy curls. I let my eyes linger on her face, her beautiful face, her graceful neck, and the creamy swell of her breasts in the V–neck of the dress she wore. Finally, my gaze drifted back up to her eyes and when one eyebrow quirked up in a silent inquiry, I remembered that she was still waiting for me to answer her question.
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