“Where do you do think you’re going?” He rubbed his cheek along the curve of her neck.
“I have to take my meds.” She groaned.
“I know but I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” He pointed to her pill bottles. A pitcher of water and a glass sat on the night table.
She turned and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“Taking your medicine on time is essential to your recovery.” Tate reached over to the night table, poured her a glass of water, and handed her the pills.
Isabelle looked at Tate for a moment. She hadn’t noticed the small scar above his eye before. She ran her thumb over it. “What happened here?”
“Old war wound,” he murmured.
Those probing, hypnotic blues eyes looked as if they had seen so much.
“What is going on in that head of yours, Isabelle Reed?”
“This is not the Tate McGill I imagined.” Isabelle kissed the scar.
Tate drew her closer to him until she was flush against his body. His cock twitched between them. Isabelle took him in hand and gently ran a finger over the tip of his cock. Tate groaned, and his body tensed in response.
In one swift move, Tate had her on her back. Isabelle closed her eyes as Tate took her nipple in his mouth and bit down. Tate parted her legs and began to stroke her with his long, nimble fingers. She reached for his forearm, urging him to burrow deeper within her.
“Isabelle,” he rasped.
She opened her eyes to see his were at least three shades darker. Tate reached into the nightstand and retrieved a condom. Then, without warning, he picked her up by her waist, repositioned the pillows on the bed, and placed her back down on her stomach with her ass slightly up in the air. He made sure the arm in the cast rested on its own pillow.
Tate ripped open a condom packet and slid it on with expert precision. He knelt behind her on the bed, grabbed hold of her waist, and sank into her. They both groaned in unison. She was at a disadvantage with the broken arm, but she got the feeling that was what he wanted—to give her unbridled pleasure on his terms. Tate stopped momentarily to spread her legs farther apart, then continued his long strokes, deepening each time and getting closer to her most sensitive spot. Isabelle’s whole body reacted to him, then he stopped again, this time pulling her up and cupping her breasts with his hands. The stubble from his face scrubbed the back of her neck, sending a tingling sensation through her body. His hands had touched every part of her body. He reached in front of her and rubbed her clit again. Tate leaned her forward and resumed his thrusts, pounding into her. She bit her lip to stifle the scream aching to get out of her lungs as Tate thrust hard one last time and collapsed onto her.
* * *
Around six in the morning, Tate jolted out of his sleep in a cold sweat. He’d had another nightmare. He was back in the kitchen from his childhood, and his parents were arguing. Joe grabbed Lila and shoved her against the wall. Tate ran to the other side of the kitchen to help his mother up off the floor. He reached out to help her up, but it was Isabelle. She was bruised and crying. Tate rolled over on his side, trying to get his bearings straight. He reached over to the other side of the bed to find it empty. Where was Isabelle? When they’d finally fallen asleep after the last lovemaking session, she’d been cuddled beside him.
There was a note on the pillow.
Jake will be up soon. I’ll make breakfast.
Izzy
Tate took a whiff of the pillow that Isabelle had slept on. Her scent still lingered. She was right; Jake usually awoke around six thirty. That would give Tate time to take a shower and straighten up a bit. Seth and Morgan were coming home today. It was hard to believe two weeks had passed. It was even harder to believe he’d only known Izzy for a week and a half, but it felt like forever. Taking care of Jake and spending time with Isabelle had wrecked his chances of writing wicked songs for that salacious new album he had due out in five months. He knew he was not the same man he was when he came to Philadelphia. And he didn’t know what to do about it.
Chapter Seven
Isabelle would remember that night for the rest of her life. But she hadn’t wanted to face Tate the morning after, so she slipped out while he was asleep. After leaving her note, she jumped into the shower to get ready for Morgan and Seth’s homecoming. The days had flown by in a whirlwind, and she was sad to see them end. Next weekend was Dana’s wedding, and then she would be going back home to Georgia. She didn’t know when Tate was leaving. The subject hadn’t come up. Would he leave as soon as Morgan and Seth arrived? Had he planned to stay for a while? The prospect of an extended stay both excited and scared her. Each day she spent with him, the attraction between them grew. So what would they do now that they’d slept together? She wasn’t very sophisticated about the ways of hooking up, but she knew Tate was probably an expert. The idea of being just friends made her heart sink. She’d given him a piece of her soul last night, and it wouldn’t be that easy to pretend that it didn’t mean anything. But Tate did this all the time. The last thing she wanted to do was sit across from him like a love sick puppy while he moved on to his next conquest.
Isabelle got dressed and went into the kitchen to start breakfast. God bless him, Jake was like a natural alarm clock. The past week and a half she’d bonded with him and Tate, and they felt like a family. Plenty of strangers assumed they were a couple with a son, and it made her feel good that someone would think she was a mother. She was going to miss that connection.
Tate walked into the kitchen with Jake in his arms. He wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that said Bright Star Saloon. He looked good, refreshed even.
“Good morning, Isabelle.” Tate smiled and put Jake in his chair.
“Good morning.” She put Jake’s cereal bowl on the table. “Jake, mommy and daddy will be home today!”
“Yay!” Jake clapped.
Tate walked toward her, and suddenly she felt nervous. Was he going to kiss her? No, he went to the fridge to get out the orange juice.
“I hope you like waffles and bacon,” she mumbled, disappointed he didn’t try to sneak a kiss.
“That sounds great,” he said as he got two glasses from the cupboard.
Tate’s cell phone rang. Isabelle nearly jumped out of her skin; she wasn’t used to hearing it. Instead of letting it go to voicemail like he usually did, Tate took the call.
“Excuse me.” He dashed out of the kitchen. “Hey, Sheree…”
Isabelle heard him mention the woman’s name as he left the kitchen. Perhaps it was someone he worked with, but the way he’d jumped up like his pants were on fire, it was probably some woman he’d been seeing. She waited ten minutes, then started without him. By the time he came back into the room, she and Jake were almost done.
“Sorry about that. That was my manager, Cyril.” He sat down at the table.
She rose from the table with her plate. He’d just lied right to her face. She needed to get out of there before the morning got any worse. “No problem. So I guess you’ll be back on the road and focusing on your album now that your babysitting duties are over.”
“That’s the plan.” He winked at her.
Clearly he didn’t want to talk about last night. Surely they wouldn’t have pillow talk in front of Jake, but she was beginning to feel as though she’d dreamt the whole thing. This morning’s Tate McGill was that charming rogue that graced the front of his CD covers, and she didn’t like it one bit.
Isabelle rinsed her plate and put it in the dishwasher. “Speaking of plans, I have some place I need to be this morning. Do you mind if I leave you alone with Jake?”
“You’re going out?” His hand went still on the syrup.
“Yes.” Isabelle began cleaning Jake up since he was done with his cereal.
“Going to look for that dress for the wedding?” Tate asked.
“No, Morgan and I are going shopping tomorrow. So will you be OK with Jake?” She felt asinine for asking. Of course the man could handle a one-year-old for
a few hours. They’d just been doing everything together, and it felt rude to leave him in an imaginary lurch.
“Sure, but you didn’t mention you had plans yesterday.”
“Funny thing about plans—they change all the time.” She shrugged.
“OK…when will you be back?”
Isabelle gave Jake a final once over and kissed him on the cheek. “Probably in the afternoon.”
Isabelle scurried to her room and retrieved her bag. She needed to get the hell out of the penthouse before she started to cry.
* * *
Tate looked at his phone for the third time in twenty minutes, trying to decide if he should call her. Isabelle had been gone for five hours, and he was beginning to worry. It irked him that she didn’t want to reveal where she was going, and he silenced the voice in his head that told him it was none of his business. Walking into that kitchen with Jake and seeing her put breakfast on the table had suddenly become too real and comfortable to him. They had been living Morgan and Seth’s lives for over a week, and then they had to go and make love. The intimacy that filled the room had made him angry. This wasn’t his life. His life was touring, drinking, and loose women. It wasn’t sharing meals with a beautiful, sophisticated woman and a great kid. It was the life he was sure he could never have, and there it was mocking him.
Where was she? Did she run off and call Ned? Was there someone else in her life? He’d never bothered to ask if she was seeing someone back home. He usually had finely tuned radar for women who belonged to someone else, and he didn’t get that feeling from her. She’d been in a pretty good rush to get out of the penthouse, but he’d just lied to her. He didn’t have to accept that call from Sheree. Sheree had been calling him for over two weeks now. When he’d walked into the kitchen, the first thing he’d wanted to do was take Isabelle in his arms and kiss her senseless. That was about all he could have done with Jake in the room. Instead he’d taken the low road and intentionally tried to hurt her feelings in order to avoid feeling anything himself.
They needed to talk. Tate looked at his nephew, who must have thought he was nuts for moving his play area to the foyer. He felt like an idiot, but he wanted to make sure she couldn’t escape to her room when she returned home. The ping of the elevator signaled someone was coming to the penthouse. The doors opens and Isabelle stepped out with shopping bags in her hand. She had on an entirely different outfit, a blue sundress that fell just above the knee, and she’d done something to her hair.
Tate gave her an appreciative once over. “You look nice.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“Izzy pretty!” Jake reached for her.
“Thank you, Jake. You are going to break some hearts when you grow up.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Poor Morgan is going to be hiding in bushes with a shotgun for the rest of her life.”
“Seth has a plan in place.” Tate waggled his eyebrows.
“I bet he does.” Isabelle took a deep breath. “Tate, about last night.”
He didn’t want to hear what she was about to say. So, she’d gotten some retail therapy while she was out. He wasn’t ready to be dismissed from her life despite what an ass he’d been earlier. Tate stuck his hand in her nest of curls then leaned in and silenced her with a kiss.
The door opened and startled both of them. Morgan and Seth were home.
Tate wanted to strangle Seth for getting back on time. He was sure Seth had seen the kiss because he had momentarily distracted Morgan by removing her tote bag from her arm, giving Tate and Isabelle time to break apart.
“Hi, Mommy!” Jake yelled.
“How’s my baby! I missed you so much!” Morgan pulled Jake out of Tate’s arms.
“Uncle Tate Izzy kissed!” Jake’s gleeful shout sounded like a cannon going off in the room.
Tate started coughing, trying to cover it up.
Morgan wrapped her arms around Isabelle. “Izzy!”
Isabelle returned Morgan’s hearty hug. A few minutes later Morgan, Isabelle, and Jake went into the living room. Tate turned to follow, but Seth grabbed his arm and guided him to the kitchen.
“So how was the vacation?” Tate grinned as he leaned against the kitchen counter.
“We had a great time. Morgan loved Pebble Beach.” Seth rubbed the back of his neck and got a bottle of water from the fridge. “How were things here?”
Tate shrugged. “Jake was an angel. Not a bit of trouble.”
“Any new developments?”
Tate hung his head. “There was one.”
“I know. I saw you kissing her.” Seth smirked.
“Isabelle and I have been getting acquainted.” His cheeks burned.
“You two took a CPR class together?” Seth raised an eyebrow.
“No.”
“Good. Because I don’t remember slipping somebody your tongue as part of the procedure.”
“Funny.” Tate threw a spatula at him.
Seth ducked out of the way. “I told you to tread lightly. You cannot have one of your scandalous adventures with Morgan’s favorite cousin.”
“I heard what you said loud and clear. But it’s not like that with me and Isabelle. She’s beautiful and classy. She even let me play her violin.”
“Is that some sort of musician’s lingo for hitting the sheets?” Seth scratched his head.
“No.” Tate folded his arms across his chest. “She’s very attached to her violin. Musicians get that way about their instruments.”
“That’s right. Loulabelle is off limits to everyone.” Seth laughed.
Tate shook his head. Damn right, no one touched his guitar. “Exactly. We started talking about music, and things just clicked from there. I even helped her out with her music class.”
“That was nice of you. Isabelle is a great person with a big heart. So how was your first brush with domestic life?” Seth sifted through the mail on the counter.
Tate scratched at his beard. “It wasn’t that bad. As a matter of fact…it was better than I’d thought it would be. Isabelle and I managed quite well.”
Seth looked up. “What?”
Tate closed his eyes. He’d just made a big mistake.
“Baby! Can you come here for a minute?” Seth yelled.
Tate rushed over to Seth. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I can’t be the only person to hear this in case you recant it later.”
Tate put him in a headlock. “Seth Blake, if you breathe a word of this to Morgan I will kill you. Besides, I didn’t say anything.”
“There was a pause. I heard a pause, and you look guilty as hell. This is big news!” Seth tried to shimmy out of Tate’s grasp.
“I don’t care if you are a three-time MVP, I will mop the floor with you if you go in there and tell Morgan. I heard about the way she reacted to Tyler and Michelle sharing a ride on the Ferris wheel at Jake’s party.”
“That’s different.”
“How so?” Tate stilled.
“Tyler and Michelle are a happy mixture of horny chaos. Clearly you and Isabelle are two rational people.”
“OK.” Tate cringed. He hadn’t been acting rational this morning when he’d played the role of nonchalant jerk. “I’d still like to keep this under wraps for the time being.”
“If Morgan thinks I hid this from her, I won’t be getting that football team.”
“Please, you two hump like rabbits. I’d like to know what it would take for you two not to do it.”
“Not much.” Seth grinned then got a horrified look on his face. “Did you have sex?”
“Jake was asleep. He didn’t see anything. I promise.”
“Sorry, I can’t keep this to myself.” Seth tried to scramble past him.
Tate and Seth were wrestling when Morgan and Isabelle came into the kitchen with Jake. They both straightened up. Tate tried to play it cool and put his arm around Seth’s shoulders.
“You two really missed each other, huh?” Morgan scrunched her forehead.
“Morgan, you said Tate and Seth were close, but I didn’t know it was this close.” Isabelle raised an eyebrow.
Seth gave Tate a hard slap on the cheek. “We were just catching up.”
“Tate, thank you for taking care of Jake and being such a great host to my cousin while I was away,” Morgan said as she opened the fridge, looking for something to drink. “I hope you showed her that great southern hospitality of yours.”
“That’s not all he showed her,” Seth mumbled under his breath.
Tate slapped him on the back and was pretty sure he left his handprint there.
Morgan handed off Jake to Seth. “Take your son. It’s time for that sports recap show you two watch. I am stealing Isabelle so we can catch up while I unpack.”
Tate furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re going to unpack the day you get home?”
“It relaxes me.” Morgan laughed. “When you two stop fondling each other, how about you figure out what’s for dinner?”
Isabelle followed Morgan out of the kitchen. Jake was rubbing his cheek against Seth’s five o’clock shadow, so he was temporarily distracted.
Tate took a deep breath. “I have to talk to Isabelle. Give me twenty-four hours and I’ll babysit for a whole year. I’ll even take Jake on tour if I have to.”
“Deal.” Seth held out his hand.
Tate was left alone in the kitchen. Everyone had just gotten what they wanted except him. The talk with Isabelle about last night would have to wait.
* * *
When Morgan told her she was taking her shopping for a new dress, Isabelle had assumed they would be going to a department store, not some ritzy boutique that served appetizers and champagne when you walked through the door. Normally she shied away from stuffy places like that, afraid one look at a price tag would blow her budget wide open. The sales clerks almost tripped over one another when they entered, and one of them even hugged Morgan and asked about Jake. Morgan told the clerks she and Isabelle needed to look exceptional for a wedding and the clerks sprang into action, pulling dresses and setting up dressing rooms for them, but Morgan told them only one would be necessary since she needed to help Isabelle.
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