Too Good at Goodbyes

by RC Boldt

  Less than an hour later, Vance and Jed have secured a rental car and are settled in at the rental house. Similarly to Rachel, if the men sensed anything changed between Kane and me, they hid it well, maintaining their ever-present professionalism.

  Now, as Kane and Foster carry our bags up the steps and inside the modest-sized house overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, Kane’s friend continues filling him in on whatever he’s missed since being on tour with me.

  “I stocked your fridge so you wouldn’t have to go anywhere. Figured you’d want to lie low and all. But Noelle’s insisting we get together for dinner while you’re here.”

  I drink in every single ounce of my surroundings, eager to see the home of the man who’s come to mean so much to me in such a short time. The house is clean—very neat—and I wonder if it’s a habit from his military days or if he’s always been like this.

  The entryway has a built-in wooden seat for taking off shoes, a pretty blue carpet beside it which now hosts Kane’s shoes and Foster’s flip-flops, so I quickly follow suit with my own shoes. Four coat hooks are fixed above the wooden seat, and there’s a hoodie draped over one while a key chain with a lone key hangs over another hook.

  As we venture farther inside, down the hallway with crown molding along the bottom and top of the blueish-gray walls that lead to an open-concept layout of the kitchen, living room, and dining room, I can’t help but be impressed by this. It’s surprisingly homey, without having that in-your-face masculine, a dude lives here feel to it.

  The kitchen has stainless steel appliances and beautiful granite countertops with a good-sized island. The dining room table fits the beach house theme, wooden and stylishly worn in various places. Even the living room looks comfortable and inviting, with a large brown leather sectional and a few extremely soft-looking, neatly folded throw blankets placed at each end.

  “I’ll let you get Miss King situated in the guest room.” Foster leans back against the couch, shoving his hands in the pockets of his khakis, and smirks at Kane as if he’s purposely antagonizing him.

  Kane ignores his friend and turns to me. He tips his head in the direction of the hallway leading to where I assume are the bedrooms. “This way.” Once I step in place beside him, his palm finds the base of my spine and settles there comfortably, nudging me forward.

  I walk down the hall, peering in the first open door we pass—a bathroom—and pause at the next door, which is clearly a spare bedroom. It lacks much personality, yet it’s still inviting. The light coral hue of the walls and the chest of drawers with silver handles in the shape of seashells suit the room perfectly.

  I hover in the doorway, glancing back at Kane in question, my lips parting.

  He nudges me forward with that possessive palm at my back and says in a low murmur, “Down a little farther.”

  I swear I hear a faint chuckle from the living room, where Foster waits.

  We pass another room that obviously serves as a little office with a desk and two large bookshelves stuffed with paperbacks and some hardbacks. I’ll definitely have to venture in there later and peruse his collection. Finally, we come to the end of the hallway, and I stutter at the sight before me.

  Oh, boy. The rest of the house may not exude blatant masculinity, but that’s only because it’s all contained right here in this room.

  A massive king-size bed sits snug against the far wall, neatly made with a blue and white comforter with a large dresser along the wall. I step inside the room, slowly surveying the space before I venture into the adjoining master bath.

  An enormous alcove houses his shower with multiple rain heads, a large built-in bench on one side, and various shades of gray tile throughout. Instantly, I’m bombarded with an erotic image of Kane pressing me against the wall of this very shower and having his way with me. Or of Kane seated on that bench with me riding him hard.

  “Whatever you’re thinkin’, yes.”

  A smile colors his husky voice, and I startle, my head whipping around to peer at him with wide eyes. Heat floods my cheeks, and I bite my lip, suddenly unsure of what to say.

  His lips slowly form a grin that transforms his normally somber face into one that’s devastatingly handsome. It causes my heart to lurch within my chest, serving as yet another reminder that it’s bewitched by him.

  I clear my throat, attempting to mentally shake off the lovestruck stupor. “So, um, this is a beautiful place. Great room.” My words come out rushed, and I inwardly cringe at the nervousness evident in them. Gesturing to my large duffel bag he has slung over his shoulder, I avoid his eyes. “So, where should we set my stuff?”

  The slow slide of the bag’s strap echoes within the bathroom before it settles on the floor with a soft thump. A second joins it, sounding lighter. His bag. I studiously peer around at anything, everything, except for the tall, imposing man before me.

  “Simone.” He draws closer.

  “Hmm?” I attempt a casual tone, but my breath whooshes out when he crowds me against the outer glass panel of the shower. Strong, slightly callused fingers grip my chin gently, forcing me to meet his eyes. Another hand braces against the glass, palm splayed flat.

  Dark blond eyebrows furrow, his expression troubled. “You don’t wanna stay with me?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  I focus on the fastened button of his dress shirt, second from the top. “I, uh, just wasn’t sure, you know…because we’re here in your house, and your friends will probably find out and—”

  Strong fingers nudge my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze again. I watch as confusion settles over his face. “You think I wouldn’t want you in my bed now that we’re here?”

  I shrug and force a laugh. “My reputation isn’t that stellar, you know. Just didn’t want your friends to give you a hard time about me.”

  His expression turns ferocious, mouth leveling into a flat line. “You think I’d let my friends talk shit about you?”

  Eyes wide, I rush to explain. “No! I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure they’re awesome. I was just worried about you, and what they might think and—”

  Whatever else I’d planned to say is lost when his mouth crashes down on mine. The hand he’s had on my chin grips my nape, steering me to allow him to take possession of my mouth. I instantly arch into his touch, my tongue sparring with his, and I swear he kisses me until I’m barely cognizant of my name.

  Once he finally draws back slightly, I blink my eyes open, still dazed.

  “You’re stayin’ in my room. Got it?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before he lowers his head, snagging my bottom lip between his teeth and tugging slightly. “Didn’t hear you, Princess.”

  A breathless, “Got it,” is all I can manage.

  He grunts and trails a line of kisses along my jaw before leaning back. His eyes blaze with an intensity that heats me from within. “No more negative talk. They’ll all love you.”

  Before I realize it, I’m blurting out, “How do you know?”

  Jesus, Simone. Way to be needy as hell.

  But this is important. These are Kane’s friends. People who matter to him. On the flight here, he entertained me with countless stories about them, and the pure adoration, the heartfelt affection in his tone was tangible. They sound nothing like the so-called friends the men I’ve dated in the past have ever introduced me to. These people won’t be the type to salivate over gossip, ready to sell any tidbit to the press for money and acknowledgment.

  I wait for Kane’s response, and when he offers me a soft smile, I find myself hoping—so desperately hoping—that he’ll answer with, “Because I love you.”

  Of course, because my hope is just that—a mere hope—he doesn’t. Instead, he drops a tender kiss on my lips and says, “Because you’re Simone King.”

  I have to muster up a smile in response and force my expression not to show my disappointment. Luckily, it works because Kane backs away, his eyes filled with so much wa
rm affection.

  “Make yourself at home. I’m gonna get rid of Fos so we can relax and kick back.” He winks before turning and leaving the large master bath.

  And I force myself not to search the pristine tile floor for the heart I’m convinced that just plummeted there.

  33

  Kane

  When I head down the hallway, I find Fos standing at the sliding glass doors with his back to me, eyes trained on the view of the ocean a few hundred yards away at the end of the wooden walkway attached to the deck. I know he hears me approach since we all swear he’s got superhuman hearing, but he doesn’t turn. Instead, he waits for me to sidle up beside him.

  “She’s not what I expected.” Even though his voice is hushed, I’m grateful I closed the bedroom door when I left Simone back there.

  My spine stiffens as defensiveness surges to the forefront. “She’s not like they—”

  His head whips around, and he cuts me a sharp look. “I know.”

  I rear back, confused. “What do you mean, you know?”

  His look is one of pure exasperation. “Windham, you might’ve been duped once, but that doesn’t mean you’d shack up with a total bitch.”

  I let out a weary groan and scrub a hand over the back of my neck, gripping the tense muscles that feel like they’re made of granite right now. “Can we not do this?”

  He shrugs, hands still in his pockets. “Not doing anything.” Turning back to focus on the view outside, he hums thoughtfully. “Just sayin’. She’s had quite an effect on you.”

  I don’t respond. I know him well enough to know there’s more where that came from.

  “She’s pretty damn crazy about you. You picked up on that, right?” He tosses me a glance, an eyebrow raised.

  Unease settles through me. I don’t like talking about her when she’s not here. But it’s more than that. Something holds me back from saying more. “We’re just—”

  Fos whips around, fixing me with a hard glare. Leaning close, he hisses, “Don’t. Don’t say whatever you were about to say. Because I know, sure as shit, you were about to water down whatever this is between the two of you.”

  I match his glare with my own, but when I part my lips to fire back at him, he cuts me off.

  “That woman in there brought you back to fucking life. So, don’t give me a load of bullshit.”

  All the oxygen is sucked from the room, and I clamp my lips shut. This is none of his goddamn business, and he needs to quit sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.

  I focus on the view outside, willing my anger to subside before I grit out, “What time should we head over for dinner?”

  There’s a long pause. “Seven good for you?”

  “Yep.” I still don’t look at him. “Want us to bring anythin’?”

  “Nah, Noelle’s got it all handled.” At the mention of his wife, my friend’s voice loses the hard edginess. “She’s been hardcore with the nesting shit.”

  I huff out a short laugh. “I bet.”

  “She’ll be happy to see you,” he offers quietly. “Everyone will.”

  I swallow hard and nod. I’ve missed the hell out of everybody.

  There’s another beat of silence before he grips my shoulder and nods. “See you tonight.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He takes a few steps then stops, and I sense his hesitation before he speaks, his voice muted. “Just…be smart. Hate to see you ruin something great.”

  With that said, he exits the house quietly, leaving me to mull over his words.

  Later that night…

  “Are you sure I’m dressed okay?” Simone asks me for the hundredth time as I pull into Fos and Noelle’s driveway.

  Without a word, I put my Jeep in park and unfasten my seat belt before reaching over and undoing hers. With my palm cradling the back of her head, I guide her mouth to mine. I mean for it to be a quick kiss, but it gets out of control the instant she clutches at my forearms and parts her lips beneath mine.

  Her little moan has me deepening the kiss, and blood rushes straight to my cock. Fuck, I can’t get enough of her taste.

  An obnoxiously loud thump-thump-thump on my driver’s side window has us jumping apart.

  When I turn to see which asshole interrupted us, Miller Vaughn’s shit-eating grin greets me. I flip him the bird. He just tips his head back with a loud laugh before pressing his key fob to lock his vehicle, the lights flashing in response. Then he slings an arm around his wife, Tate, who mouths, “I’m sorry,” before they walk up to the house.

  I let out a small laugh before I turn to Simone and find her watching me. A mixture of curiosity and amusement lines her face. “Another friend of yours?”

  “More like a pain in my ass.”

  “They’re funny.”

  “You think that’s funny, just wait,” I mutter, exiting the vehicle to come around and open her door. When I offer a hand to help her out, she steps down, her eyes studying me thoughtfully.

  “Thank you for tonight.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t been subjected to the craziness that’s waitin’ inside.” I wave a hand, gesturing to the house. “And we’re gettin’ off easy since a bunch of them are out of town or had other things already planned.”

  Simone steps closer, settling a palm on the center of my chest with an earnest expression. “I’m serious. Thank you for this. For letting me be here and introducing me to your friends.” She ducks her head, suddenly fascinated by the paved surface of the driveway. “I don’t get to hang out with normal people, so this is a treat.”

  When she finally raises her chin, eyes lifting to mine, I cup her face in my hands and skim my lips over hers. “Tonight’s gonna be great. I promise.”

  “Yeah?” She looks so hopeful I can’t help but smile down at her.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  When I told Simone earlier that tonight would be great, I lied. Well, partially. I’m sure it’s been great for her.

  For me, however, it’s a whole other story.

  “My favorite was when the topic You are what you eat came up, and Kane goes”—Miller deepens his voice, evidently trying to impersonate me—“‘Now, I don’t believe that ‘cause I don’t recall eatin’ a sexy beast.’”

  My buddy cracks up along with the others. I have to say, it doesn’t bother me even though they’ve been ragging on me for nearly the entire time, and that’s mainly because Simone’s laughing right along with them.

  There’s a light in her eyes, a content smile that’s stayed on her face tonight, and I’m proud to have played a part in putting it there.

  “Ooh! I almost forgot.” Noelle rests a hand on her large pregnant belly and tells Simone, “Be sure to make him whip up a batch of his famous seafood gumbo.” She lets out a dreamy sigh. “So delicious.”

  Fos gives her side-eye. “You used to have that tone when you talked about me and my—”

  Noelle covers his mouth with her hand, eyes sparkling with humor. “Not in front of the children.”

  The entire dining room falls silent as we glance around at one another before narrowing our gazes on the couple.

  Miller’s the first one to pipe up with, “Children? As in plural?”

  Noelle’s eyes go wide as if she only now realized what she said. “Uh…Fos? Some help here?”

  My buddy leans back in his chair, practically preening, and drapes an arm along the back of Noelle’s chair. “Because I have such incredible sperm—”

  Noelle tosses up her hands in exasperation. “Oh my gosh! Foster Bryant Kavanaugh! It’s not always about your freaking sperm!”

  Fos grins wide, completely unfazed by her outburst, and gestures with his bottle of beer toward her belly with a cocky wink. “Pretty sure it’s what did all that gorgeousness.”

  Noelle softens. “I’ll let it slide because of the gorgeousness part.”

  He leans in close and plants a kiss on her cheek. “You know you’re always gorgeous.” As he settles back in h
is chair, his grin can only be described as proud as fuck. “We’re having twins.”

  Everyone pipes up with their surprise and congratulations, and it takes a moment for the excitement to settle down a bit.

  “Speaking of making babies…” Miller starts off, focusing on me. “Do we need to recap for you two how babies are made, or are you practicing safe sex?”

  Fos snickers while Miller studies me with an exaggerated innocent expression. The only thing that gives him away is the slight crinkling at the edges of his eyes.

  Fucker.

  But I’m not angry because I have to admit I missed this. The shit-talking. The harassment. Just being around good people and having good times. This is my family right here, and I realize just how lost I’ve been without them when I shut myself off from everyone.

  With a shake of my head, I take a drink of my beer while discreetly flipping Miller off.

  Everyone laughs, so maybe it’s not so discreet.

  “How long are you here for, Simone?” Noelle asks.

  “Oh, just a few days until we know more about the situation in Miami. Otherwise, I’ll head to the final tour stops before we’re due to fly overseas.”

  “Wow. That must be fun. Sounds exhausting, though, too.”

  Simone nods politely. “It can be pretty tiresome. But it’s for the fans, and they’re worth it.” She hesitates, appearing unsure before offering, “If any of you would ever like to see a concert, just let me know. I’d be more than happy to give you VIP passes.” Then she rushes on with, “But no pressure, of course.”

  “That would be awesome,” Tate remarks. “I’ve never been to one of your shows before.”

  “Kane has my manager’s contact info, and she handles those requests, so just get in touch with her, and she’ll make it happen.”

  “Simone actually performs upside down and spins from…” I turn to her, as I rack my brain to recall the name of the long ribbons of fabric she dangles and twists from. “What are those things called again?”