Who Do You Love (Rock Royalty Book 7)

by Christie Ridgway

  “Oh. That’s, um, convenient.”

  “Speaking of prison,” Veronica said, fingertips sliding along the top of the mantel as if her missing items might have buried themselves in the aged-wood ledge, “how is your cousin faring, Eamon?”

  He stilled. “Wick?”

  “I heard he’s in some trouble.”

  His eyes narrowed. “How do you know Wick?”

  “Why you introduced him to me. In your offices.”

  Eamon visibly relaxed. “Right. When I had the mistaken idea he might be able to do some errand work for the firm.”

  “Yes. I saw him there and then again...” Turning away from the fireplace she frowned—or she would have if her Botoxed forehead could make such a move—then sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter where. I remember him telling me that he was living with you here at the time.”

  Next, the older woman’s gaze ran about the room, as if seeking out more places to search. There was an increasingly desperate air about her that made Cami wish she’d stayed in the guest bedroom.

  She cleared her throat, feeling awkward. “Shall I help you look?”

  “No, no.” The older woman sighed. “I think I’m going to have to accept it’s a lost cause.”

  “That’s too bad,” Cami replied. “If you want to describe the pieces for me, I can contact you…” But she let that drift off because she wasn’t going to be around the Malibu house much longer herself. That was the conclusion she’d come to overnight.

  “It’s all right,” Veronica said on another sigh. She crossed to the kitchen island and swooped up the set of keys she must have placed on the granite. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”

  Eamon walked toward her. “Veronica—”

  “I’ll show myself out.”

  “Let me walk you past the guardhouse and through the gate to your car,” he said. “But I’ll take the key to the house first.”

  “Oh, of course.” She flushed and fumbled with the ring.

  “Let me do that,” Eamon said, holding out his hand. “And I’ll be changing the passcode, by the way. If you want to visit again you’ll need to call me first.”

  “Certainly. Yes.” Biting her lip, she watched Eamon remove two keys. “I didn’t realize I had a pair of them.”

  He didn’t respond, just passed the remainder of them over and pocketed the two he’d removed. “Ready?” he asked, already moving toward the front entrance.

  “Yes,” Veronica said, following him. Then she looked over her shoulder, her smile this time much less brilliant. “Um, nice to meet you.”

  Cami offered her own half-smile and lifted her hand in a wave. When the door shut behind them she sprang into action. By the time Eamon returned to the house, she’d have her things gathered, and she’d convince him it was time for them to separate…for good.

  No matter what, she still had to protect her heart, and playing stranger games was not the way to go about it.

  First she retrieved her bag from the car and then rushed about the bedroom to stuff the remainder of her belongings inside. In the living area, she glanced about, looking for any item that might have migrated in that direction. The rooms appeared Cami-free.

  Her phone rang, the tone signaling a call from her brother. She slipped the device from her pocket and stepped onto the balcony, glancing around as she answered. “Hey, Payne.”

  “What the hell’s going on?”

  Her brows flew up, and she perched on the edge of one lounger. “Um, hello to you, too, dear sibling.”

  “What’s going on?” he demanded again.

  She frowned. Ren exuded a brooding intensity. While Payne was driven, too, the blond man usually hid it behind an unruffled exterior. Now he sounded…well, rattled. Possibly angry.

  “I don’t understand.”

  He huffed out a breath. “I had a—a situation. I called Ren to tell him about it, and your name came up. He mentioned you were out of town with your friend Laurie. You told me your R&R jaunt companion was Robin.”

  “Oh.”

  How hare-brained of her not to keep her stories straight. Just something else to blame on Eamon. But as soon as she was out from under his influence—today—her mind would clear. Her life would be her own.

  Just then, the man in question stepped onto the balcony, looking insanely handsome as always, and two words her brother had said finally sank in.

  “Wait.” She frowned. “Situation? What situation?”

  Her brother hesitated.

  “Payne? What situation?”

  “Where are you now? I went by your house—”

  “I’m not staying there at the moment, but I’m not that far, either. Do you need me to—”

  “I don’t want you back at the salvage yard,” he said. “We’re closing for a few days.”

  Okay, this was just weird. “Tell me what’s going on,” she insisted, glancing over at Eamon. He stood, braced against the balcony railing, all his attention on her.

  He looked alert and concerned and, yes, still insanely handsome.

  “I don’t want to alarm you,” Payne began.

  Cami’s spine shot straight. “That’s not reassuring me.”

  Eamon started forward, and she held out her hand to keep him back.

  “All right,” her brother said in a frustrated tone, and she imagined him forking his hand through his blond hair. “There was an explosion at one of the salvage yards—your yard.”

  “What?” She jumped to her feet. “What kind of explosion?”

  Before her brother could reply, her phone was plucked from her hand and Eamon had it pressed to his own ear. His other arm came around her shoulders, hugging her close.

  “Payne?” he said. “You’ve got Eamon Rooney. Cami’s been staying with me.”

  Even from a distance, Cami could hear her brother’s heated outburst. Eamon’s expression didn’t change, he just stoically bore her brother’s rant. When Payne seemed to wind down, Eamon spoke again.

  “We can get into that later,” he said. “Right now I’m concerned about this explosion you mentioned to Cami. Where, when, why.”

  His calm but determined demeanor seemed to pacify her brother. His voice quieted enough that she couldn’t hear the words from where she stood in the curve of Eamon’s arm. But she knew the facts weren’t reassuring because his hold on her tightened.

  “I have an idea of what’s going on,” Eamon said into the phone. “And yeah, I do bear some of the responsibility.”

  She frowned up at him. That wasn’t true. He wasn’t accountable for his cousin’s actions.

  “All right,” Eamon said. “I agree. But for now I have her in a safe place—a guard house, an excellent alarm system—and I’ll keep her here.”

  What? They were supposed to separate today! Plucking at his sleeve, she shook her head.

  Eamon ignored her. “You have my word no harm will come to her.” Then he handed over the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

  She snatched it up. “Payne—”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “He’s bringing you by tomorrow night. Don’t be late.”

  Grr. He was treating her as if she was ten years old again. “Come on, Payne. I need to know what’s going on.”

  “Get your good buddy Eamon—”

  “He’s not my good buddy.” She didn’t look at him.

  “I did a little digging after the motorcycle show. He’s good enough…for now.”

  Heat rushed up her neck. “That wasn’t your business.”

  “You can yell at me tomorrow.” Payne hung up.

  “Ah!” she said, for a moment considering throwing the phone over the balcony. “He’s maddening.”

  “But he cares a lot about you,” Eamon said. He took her by both forearms and drew her down to the lounger, both of them sitting side-by-side. “And he has reason to worry.”

  She stilled, her gaze searching his serious face. Her heart started to po
und. “Tell me.”

  “Somebody threw a Molotov cocktail at the motorcycle salvage yard’s office this morning.”

  Her eyes rounded. “My office?”

  “Your office.” He glanced away, then looked back at her. “The security camera caught a biker driving off, his cut inside out so the colors weren’t showing.”

  Meaning the culprit was likely trying to hide the identifying MC patches on his leather vest. Cami swallowed as a chill swept over her skin. “Yikes,” she said faintly.

  Eamon’s hands gripped hers. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I won’t let it.”

  Her eyes closed as she recalled her plan to go home and to finally put the necessary distance between them. She was supposed to be protecting her heart! “Eamon…”

  “We’re in this together until the threat is over.”

  Chapter 9

  Cami’s brother Payne lived in the Hollywood Hills, Nichols Canyon specifically, a short distance from the compound where they’d grown up with the Velvet Lemons. It wasn’t far from the Walk of Fame, either, that stretch of Hollywood Boulevard that also included dozens of eateries, souvenir shops, and celebrity map sellers. Not to mention the people roaming in costume hoping to pick up tips by posing for photos with the ever-present throngs of tourists.

  As Eamon turned off the Boulevard and headed into the canyon, Cami glanced over her shoulder with a fond smile for the circus atmosphere along those blocks.

  “Bet you don’t know that I spent a summer as one of the sidewalk characters trolling the Walk of Fame.”

  “You’re kidding.” He shot her a surprised look. “What were you dressed as? A Storm Trooper? Spiderman?”

  “Nah. Belle. Of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. I had a friend who donned the hairy costume, and we busked for bills twelve hours a day.”

  “Why on earth…?”

  “It was good money, actually, though the next year I figured I made more by playing my guitar.” She grinned at him. “I opened the case right on top of the Lemons’ star. Got a big kick out of that.”

  “What did your dad think?”

  She shrugged. “He didn’t know. I moved out when I was seventeen. Finished high school and the next day was gone from the compound. Ren was already living in Europe, but Payne gave me crashing rights to his couch for a few weeks until I found my own place.”

  “And then…?”

  “Then I put myself through college—don’t laugh, I was an English major—by continuing to play on street corners, and later, a few paying gigs here and there.”

  He was shaking his head. “I…well, I don’t know what I thought, but I’m surprised.”

  A wave of shame warmed her cheeks. “We didn’t get too personal before, as you’ve mentioned.” Intimate, yes, personal, no. That was on her as much as on him, she reminded herself. She’d been all-in with the mysterious stranger fantasy.

  No reason to feel a bit used, like she’d just been a casual plaything he visited late at night on a whim.

  Because he’d been her plaything, too. So there.

  “What’s the frown about?”

  “Not a thing,” she said, her tone offhand. Then she pointed. “That’s Payne’s house.”

  It was two stories of angles and glass, and before her brother had met Rose, Cami had considered it the ultimate bachelor pad. But now there was a dark-red glazed planter filled with flowers by the front door and a twig wreath with berry pips on the gate leading to the side yard. As they walked up to the entrance, she noted a brand new welcome mat, too. It made her laugh because once she’d threatened to place a trucker’s naked girl mud-flap there.

  Payne had been a dog.

  Now, it seemed Rose had domesticated him.

  Though when he pulled open the door he didn’t look very friendly. Glancing past him, Cami realized that tonight’s dinner included the rest of the Rock Royalty and their significant others, too. The group was assembled in Payne’s spacious living room, their expressions varying between curious and murderous.

  Cami glared at her brother. “You set me up. You set us up.”

  “Come in,” he said, ignoring her accusation and stepping aside.

  She hesitated. Then Eamon took her hand in his.

  Her heart jolted and the world tilted beneath her feet. After Payne’s disturbing call the day before, she’d managed to find a measure of tranquility. Though Eamon had worked at the Malibu house, she’d kept a decided distance from him, playing guitar in her room or stretching out on the balcony to stare at the endless ocean. By the time she’d climbed into Eamon’s car tonight, she’d felt centered and like her strong, independent self. Now, though, with just that simple sign of support, she’d gone unsteady all over again.

  Because his touch seemed to offer team-like support—We’re in this together until the threat is over—and she couldn’t afford to get accustomed to that.

  Still, her fingers reflexively tightened on his—then she noticed the others’ attention on their linked hands. Damn.

  Slipping free of Eamon’s grasp, she strode across the threshold, schooling her expression so that it gave nothing away. It wouldn’t do for the Rock Royalty to get the wrong idea about them just because they’d arrived as a couple.

  They might think she’d fallen for him again when she was actually on the upswing from that.

  “Sit down,” Payne said, gesturing to one of the couches. “It’s time for us to chat.”

  Rolling her eyes, Rose strolled up. “Can we at least offer them something to drink first?”

  “I’ll get it,” Ren said. “Beer,” he decided aloud. “Sauvignon blanc for Cami.”

  “And no cyanide additives, please,” she called to his retreating back.

  Nobody laughed.

  Double damn.

  When her older brother returned, he handed the beverages to her and Eamon and they sat on the indicated couch. Everybody else in the room took seats, too, except for Ren and Payne, who continued standing, their arms crossed over their chests like warriors.

  Oh, geez. “Look,” she began.

  “I want to hear it from him,” Ren said, nodding to her companion.

  She frowned. “No—”

  “Yes,” Eamon said, folding his hand over hers again. “This situation is something I brought you into.”

  “Not on purpose!”

  “In any case.” He gave her hand a little shake, then dropped it.

  Glancing around the room, he brought the group up to speed—including the fact that his cousin had apparently been beaten up in jail, something she hadn’t known until now.

  “It will be over in a few days,” he concluded. “Once Wick either signs the plea agreement or the deadline for him to sign passes, the Savage Sons won’t have any incentive to involve me.”

  “You mean Cami,” Ren growled out.

  Eamon’s jaw went hard. “I know. I can’t tell you how much I regret what’s happened.”

  He sounded sincerely remorseful, and somehow the genuineness of the admission only served to lower her mood. She bet he wished he’d never hooked up with her in the first place.

  “You regret it,” Payne said, “but not enough to turn to your club for help? You said you’ve not informed them of what’s gone on.”

  “First, the Unruly Assassins is not technically my club.” He hesitated. “I’m not a member. But my father does head it up and, yeah, I’ve tried to keep them out of it. But now I’m going to have a meeting with him about this.”

  Ren didn’t appear satisfied. “I don’t pretend to know everything about the biker club culture—”

  “All you need to know is that the club looks out for family—first, last, and always.”

  “But you didn’t go to them right away,” Payne pointed out.

  “I had my reasons…mainly because I didn’t want a minor situation to escalate needlessly into a major one that could have wider ramifications.” He rubbed his jaw with his hand. “I thought it was just a few guys, low on the Sons’
totem pole, trying to prove something—mostly to themselves. I figured if I kept her out of sight for a short time…”

  “She’d be out of mind,” Payne finished for him. “But you screwed up.”

  Cami straightened her spine, driven to defend Eamon. “Wait a minute—”

  “Yeah. I screwed up.”

  “Can we save the donning of the hair shirt for later?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at her brothers.

  Eamon acted as if he hadn’t heard her speak. “I’ll have that meet-up with my father and some of the other brothers tomorrow night. Cami will come, too. When I tell them she’s with me—that will mean something.”

  Her gaze jumped to him. “But I’m not with you.”

  “You are now,” he said, his tone implacable. “Until the situation with Wick is resolved.”

  “But—”

  Ren put out his hand, halting her rebuttal. “All right. But you need to understand something else, Rooney.”

  “What’s that?”

  Her older brother wore his scary expression that only Cilla had the ability to soften. “We look out for Cami, too. First, last, and always.”

  Eamon’s expression went as stony as Ren’s. “I hope you mean that.”

  “And on that, um, note of accord,” Cilla piped up, jumping to her feet, “why don’t we see if we can get some dinner going?”

  Before Cami knew what hit her, the determined Rock Royalty princess had pulled her from the couch and was towing her toward the kitchen.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she told her sister-in-law-to-be.

  “Nonsense. The guys will be more civil with food in their stomachs.”

  Cami went up on her toes to gaze out the back windows. “They’re taking him to the barbecue. There are sharp tools out there.”

  “Well I’m not sure he doesn’t deserve a poke or two,” Ashlynn said, pulling a salad out of the refrigerator. “We all saw how he rejected you at the roadhouse that night.”

  As if Cami needed a reminder. She waved her hand and pretended the memory still didn’t bite. “Old news.”

  Rose suddenly frowned, a handful of utensils in her grip. “Wait a minute. Now we know why he did that, don’t we? To protect you. So word wouldn’t get back that you two were an item.”