Maggie laughed. “I think we’re going to get along just fine, Ms. Tennison.”
“Ah, no. If you’re Maggie, I’m Gwen.” She picked up Maggie’s bags before the bellhop could. “Let’s get you settled in. I’m sure you’ll want to rest for tonight.”
“I’m sure you have far more important things to do than babysit me.” Maggie reached to take her bags back. “I know how this goes. Even now there are three people waiting for you to come and save the day, aren’t there?”
Gwen chuckled. “Well. Maybe two. It’s early yet. The third will come later.”
“Go.” Maggie winked. “I can take care of myself. If I get bored, I can always go harass Lucas.”
Gwen smiled, and hoped it didn’t look tight and wrong. “Well then. I’ll leave you to it. Lucas has my mobile number. Call if you need anything.”
She beat the other crew members to the venue, but only just. Cathy came walking up from the opposite side of the street as she was opening the stage door.
“Hiya,” she said. Her long brown ponytail swayed behind her as she jogged to catch up. “Ready for tonight?”
“Are we ever?” Gwen smiled.
“We will be. We always are.”
***
The first show in D.C. was spectacular. Gwen walked into the green room afterward with a sense of accomplished tiredness—something she’d grown to enjoy. Exhausted, but exhilarated at the same time. The usual rush of chaos and noise in the green room enveloped her, and she only wanted to find something to drink and sit down for an hour or so.
Lucas was already sprawled over one of the couches, taking up seating room for three. Or, well, two, Gwen amended. Maggie sat with Lucas’s head pillowed in her lap. They’d been amazing onstage. The set list for the night had been changed around to include some duets, a few old Altered Oblivion numbers, and a few numbers designed to showcase Maggie’s substantial talent. Gwen never thought she would hear a crowd at a rock concert cheer Bizet, but with Lucas’s instrumentals and Maggie’s vocals, it fit right into the rest of the show. Now she was leaning down to whisper something to Lucas, who laughed and reached up to tug at her long, perfectly wavy hair.
“Sergeant Tennison,” came a familiar voice from behind her. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Gwen turned around, smiling. Lee Wheeler, more casual than the first time she’d seen him—in a dark gray sports jacket worn over a rumpled black T-shirt and well-worn jeans—held out one of the two bottles of lager he carried. “If you keep calling me Sergeant Tennison, I’m going to start calling you Mr. Wheeler.”
“Anything but that.” Lee smiled. It was discombobulating to see Lucas’s sharp, strong features on a clean-shaven face, and not surrounded by a mad fall of thick, wavy hair. Discombobulating, but not in the least bit unpleasant.
“You here for the show?” Gwen took a drink of her beer and looked for a place to sit. She spotted a quiet couple of seats over in the corner and nodded toward them.
“I live in town, so I thought I’d come see my baby brother.” He followed her, and they sat down across from each other.
Gwen said to hell with it and kicked her boots off, tucking her feet up under her in the battered old armchair. Her feet all but groaned in relief. “What’d you think?” The beer was perfectly cold, and she was tired enough that even American beer tasted like heaven.
“It was a great show,” Lee said. “He and Maggie always did work well together.”
“So I’ve heard.” She gave him a wry smile before leaning her elbow against the back of the chair and resting her head against her hand. The sound of Lucas’s laugh carried across to them, and she glanced over. The two of them looked cozy.
“How about you?” Lee asked, leaning forward. “What do you think about touring so far?”
Gwen laughed and tucked her bottle against her thigh. “It’s exhausting, honestly. Long days, moving around, a constant fight against chaos.” She grinned at him. “A lot like active duty. Except the bit about angry locals shooting at me.”
He returned the grin, and not all of the warmth in her face came from the beer. “I wouldn’t rule that out yet,” he teased. “I’ve seen where you’re going.”
Gwen raised her bottle in salute. “Thanks for the warning.” She drank, and they were quiet for a moment. “So are you coming to tomorrow’s show as well?” It was early in the tour, but a two-night run gave them a chance to stop the constant motion for a night.
“I thought I might,” Lee said. “Listen, I had an idea. Are you hungry?”
“Ravenous,” Gwen admitted. Tonight there hadn’t even been time for her usual pre-show sandwich in the green room. Drinking beer was probably a terrible idea.
“They don’t need you here right now. Want to go grab some dinner?” His eyebrows lifted.
“God, I’d love to, but I’m a mess.” Gwen brushed a hand over her T-shirt, which had some sort of grease stain from helping wrangle equipment earlier.
“Nah, you’re gorgeous,” Lee said, and a flicker of his eyes to hers told her that he meant it. “But if you insist, we can stop by the hotel and I’ll wait downstairs while you change.”
Gwen felt a pleasant tingle down her spine and smiled. “All right then. You’re on.”
As they were on their way out, Gwen caught Lucas staring after her. He didn’t look happy, until he realized she was watching. He smiled a bland smile.
Sally met them at the door. “We’re going out dancing later. Around midnight?”
“Text me where,” Gwen said. She grinned up at Lee. “I hope you can dance.”
He laughed. “I hope I can too.”
There wasn’t time for a full shower, but Gwen cleaned up and messed with her hair before pulling on a new pair of skinny jeans and a sparkling dark blue tank top. She ignored her aching feet and switched out her boots for a pair of heels to give herself a boost against the ridiculously tall Wheeler brothers. She pulled on her black leather jacket and headed back downstairs.
“I had no idea you could get good Indian food over here,” Gwen said over dinner. “This is amazing.”
“We could get some more of the tandoori chicken, if you wanted.”
“Oh God, no.” She couldn’t believe how much of it she’d eaten already. She’d be embarrassed if Lee didn’t seem so charmed.
Talk turned to their respective military service. Lee had been stationed in Iraq in the early 2000s, a year or two before Gwen had shipped out for Afghanistan. He was still cagey about what he did these days. “Private security” was all she could get out of him. Possibly the second beer had been a bad idea.
She laughed more than she’d laughed on any date in years—and this was meant to be a date. Lee was charming in a way that Lucas tended to skip over, and while he made no secret of his interest, Lee also didn’t make any presumptions about it. In the back of her mind, Gwen flashed briefly on the reaction Lucas had on seeing her scarred shoulder. Somehow she doubted Lee would be as shocked. Then again, from the hints she’d gathered from Lucas and from Sam, Lee probably had her entire military record stored somewhere.
“So how is he doing?” Lee asked, a little too casually.
“Lucas? He’s fine.”
“Not giving you any problems?”
Oh. “He hasn’t missed a single call time, is always where he’s supposed to be. Based on what I heard about him before, I think it’s safe to say he’s not using.”
“That transparent, am I?” He toyed with his water glass, giving her a sheepish smile.
“He’s your brother. I get it. I have some recovering addicts in my family.” Only Sam, but she wouldn’t out her sister like that.
“Is he being a gentleman?”
The absurdity of the question made her laugh, and she suspected it made her blush as well.
“Hey, I’m not intruding on anything here, am I?” Lee asked. “I saw Lucas and Maggie on the sofa and assumed—”
“No,” Gwen said quickly. “I mean, not really. He’s a
flirt, is all.”
Her phone buzzed. Thank God. Sally had sent her the name and address of the club. She grinned and showed him her phone. “Ready to go dancing?”
Lee stood and gave her a hand up. “I should apologize to your toes in advance.”
***
Lights strobed around the otherwise darkened dance floor and music throbbed through Lucas’s body. Maggie danced with him, still wearing her costume, a striped little microdress and fishnet stockings. They both loved putting on a show, and they were getting plenty of attention, dancing close and dirty. She always had known exactly how to make him crazy—that much hadn’t changed.
What they’d had before was done now; if he tried to get her to come back to his room, she’d laugh at him.
During one close pass, Maggie leaned in to shout over the music, “Your brother just came in with Gwen.” Whatever showed on his face, she laughed. “He seems pretty taken with her.”
Damn him anyway. Lee had never taken an interest in coming to one of Lucas’s gigs before, but Lucas had heard him tell Gwen he planned to be at tomorrow night’s too. Now he understood why. Lucas caught Maggie around the waist and swung her around while grinding their hips together, the better to see the table where the others were sitting.
“Oh my God, you’re obvious.” Maggie laughed. “You’ve got it bad.”
“I do not.” Still, he resisted when Maggie tried to turn him away. Gwen and Lee sat at a tiny, high table with Craig, Sally, and Cathy. Gwen looked so good that his mouth watered. He’d gotten so used to seeing her in her work clothes: jeans, baggy shirts, boots. She made it easy to forget how fantastic her body was. Lee didn’t have his arm around her yet, but they were bumping shoulders.
“Oh please,” Maggie said. “If you were any more interested, we’d have to put a sign that says ‘Property of Gwen Tennison’ on your chest.”
“I am not hung up on her,” Lucas insisted.
“You should dance with her.” Maggie grinned up at him.
Before he had the chance, the song ended, and a new one started. Lee took Gwen’s hand and led her onto the dance floor. Gwen started dancing with her arms overhead, hips swinging. His bastard brother followed her lead, keeping his hands to himself—for now.
Lucas turned to say something to Maggie, but she was gone, threading through the crowd back to their table. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see a guy almost too pretty to be real, with a pouty pair of lips and heavy-lidded blue eyes lined in smudged black. He was wearing one of Lucas’s concert T-shirts a size too small and a ripped pair of skintight jeans. “Looks like you lost your partner,” he said with a tip of his head.
What the hell. Lucas gave him a smile in return. “Not if you’re volunteering.” They started dancing together, and he slithered against Lucas. Lucas slid his hand around to press firmly in the small of the man’s back, keeping him there. He pulled him close and their eyes locked as they started to circle together, hips pressing. “What’s your name?”
“Liam,” he said, probably lying through his teeth, but that was fine. A glance over Liam’s shoulder confirmed that Gwen had spotted them, so he turned his attention to Liam. He leaned in and spoke in his ear. “Nice name. I’m guessing I don’t have to tell you who I am.”
Liam shook his head and grinned. Any other time, Lucas would already be looking for an excuse to drag him off the dance floor to find someplace a little more private. Guys like Liam had always been his weakness. He was pretty, probably a little bit high, and one hundred percent trouble. Lucas could smell it on him, along with the scents of clean sweat and faint cologne.
If he got Liam alone, they’d have frantic, enjoyable sex in a corner somewhere, he’d probably offer Lucas some of whatever he’d been taking, and the whole thing would end up in a hotel room (maybe his, maybe not) with him snorting coke off Liam’s chest.
Liam grabbed a handful of Lucas’s ass, and Lucas rested his chin on his shoulder. Sure he was turned on, but distracted too. Gwen and Lee had their arms around each other, and as he watched, she pulled him down and kissed him.
Damn it. She looked over, and when she realized he was watching, quickly turned away. Fine. He was Lucas Wheeler, for god’s sake—he never had to go home alone if he didn’t want to. And right now, he didn’t want to. He slid one hand around the back of Liam’s neck and tilted his head so he could kiss that full, inviting mouth.
It didn’t have to end the way it always did before. It wasn’t like he could go through the rest of his life and never have sex again for fear of using drugs. He had to learn to disassociate the two, and he could start right here.
The return kiss was eager but not too eager, and Lucas felt a tingle of desire starting in his belly. They parted, but before Lucas could say anything, Maggie popped around his shoulder and said brightly, “Lucas, you weren’t going to share? You greedy thing.” She batted her eyelashes at Liam, who lit up like a goddamn pinball machine, looking between Lucas and Maggie.
Maggie had other ideas, and she pushed Lucas away as the songs changed. “Go find another partner.” Her eyes flicked over to Gwen. “I’m stealing this one for now.”
Lucas caught her by the arm and leaned down to whisper, “Subtle, Creighton. Real subtle.”
“You are not going home with a club kid groupie. When has that ever ended well for you?” She shooed him away and turned to smile at Liam.
The new song was slow and dark, bass and drums punctuated by the singer’s growls and gasps. Lucas made his way over to Gwen and Lee. “Mind if I cut in?”
Gwen glanced at Lee, who shrugged. “Okay,” she said. Two bright spots of color glowed in her cheeks; she was a little drunk. He hadn’t seen her like this before, relaxed and warm and loose-limbed. “Shall we?”
“Sure,” he said, and she stepped into his arms. He wrapped an arm around her back and held her tight against him. “Having a good time?”
“I am. Your brother is very charming.”
Lucas tried to keep from wrinkling his nose. “Yes. He does ‘charming’ very well.”
She grinned up at him. “You looked like you were having fun.”
He gave her his best Cheshire cat smile. “I always have fun.” Feeling her body against his was distracting, with its hard, honed muscle beneath feminine curves. He had his hand in the small of her back and fought the sudden urge to cup her ass and bring her in tight against him. He still had on the leather pants he’d worn onstage, which left little room for him to get an erection. His body hadn’t gotten that message.
She knew it too, from the way her smile changed to a wicked smirk. “Is that for me, or are you thinking about your friend over there dancing with Maggie?” She started dancing not so much with him as on him, turning her back and shimmying down the length of his body like he was a pole onstage. It took an enormous effort of will not to pull her up and carry her off the dance floor. When she stood up, he pulled her tight against him, daring her to pull away.
She closed her eyes and leaned back, giving him a luscious view of the line of her neck and torso as she rubbed her ass tight against his body. When she lifted her arm and curled her hand back around his neck, he bent over her in a repeat of the first time they’d danced, his mouth hovering over her throat.
He could feel her breathing, smell her skin: sweet soap with a perfume underneath he couldn’t quite place. He wanted to eat her up, right there. He wanted her. The desire he thought he’d felt for the club kid was burned clear away. At first it had been pure physical attraction, the same spark that still drove him mad every time she touched him, by accident or otherwise. Getting to know her had only made it worse. Maggie was right. He had it bad.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and they spent the remainder of the song not so much dancing as embracing. When it ended, she turned around. Her eyes were dark and the tip of her tongue darted against her bottom lip. He lowered his mouth to her ear. “Why are you fighting this? We could be so good together.”
“I’m
not sure about that.”
“I am,” he said. He leaned down again to murmur in her ear and, if he was honest, to get closer. “I want you so bad I can’t think straight. Do you really not feel the same?” He felt her shiver against him and knew she did.
She looked up at him, uncertainty and desire evident on her face. “I really can’t,” she said. “I—I should go.”
He caught her by the arm. “You can’t keep running from this forever.”
She twisted loose and pushed away from him, her cheeks flaming red. He tried to follow, but her smaller size gave her an advantage at running through the crowds. She disappeared into the darkness of the club.
Chapter Five
Gwen made it into the ladies’ and found an empty stall. She closed the door and leaned against the cold metal until her breathing stilled. The pounding in her head had nothing to do with the music outside, nor with the beer she’d drunk—no, any trace of tipsiness had vanished, leaving her exhausted.
What the hell had she been doing? That first night, she’d panicked. The noise, the heat, it hadn’t been entirely about Lucas. Tonight, though—it wasn’t fear that made her run, but the lack of it. Dancing with Lucas was one thing, but she’d been ready to crawl into his pants. Had Lee seen her?
Lee was charming, and every bit as gorgeous as his brother, but dancing with him had been fun, nothing more. A little flirty. Watching Lucas dancing with another man had given her a sick twist in her stomach she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager, watching her crush flirt with her best friend. She’d kissed Lee because she’d wanted to, but she’d wanted to because Lucas was watching her. It was a stupid stunt, and she owed Lee an apology.
Lucas was abrasive and often rude and she hadn’t actually kissed him while they were dancing because she wouldn’t have stopped there. I want you so bad I can’t think straight. That voice in her ear, dark and smoky and low, tied her stomach in knots and sent a rush of heat between her legs. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted someone with such frantic immediacy. It hadn’t just been jealousy she’d felt when Lucas kissed that guy. She’d rather be standing in a desert with men shooting at her. It was just as terrifying, but at least she understood it. At least it was familiar.
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