Wrecked (Blind Man's Alibi #1)

by Sarah Grimm

  “And you still know how to tell a girl what she wants to hear.” There it was—his crooked smile. Emma hadn’t realized just how much she missed it until that very moment. “You’re looking pretty good yourself.”

  He grimaced. “I look like five kilometers of bad road.”

  “Now that you mention it,” she said, and was rewarded with another smile. “You look tired. Which makes sense if you just finished a ninety-minute set.

  “The crowd tonight was fierce. We fed off their energy and pushed harder, played longer.”

  As he told of his night, Emma shifted this way, then that. It had nothing to do with not being interested in what he had to say; and everything to do with finding a comfortable position.

  It was a moment before she realized he’d gone quiet. Her gaze returned to his image on her screen.

  “Emma? What are you wearing?”

  There was something in his tone. Something she couldn’t name. “Don’t get overly excited, it’s nothing sexy. Just a t-shirt.”

  “My t-shirt.”

  She glanced away.

  “It’s my t-shirt, isn’t it? The one I gave you outside the stadium. You’re wearing my t-shirt.” His grin turned cocky. “Were you missing me tonight, Sunshine?”

  “Yes.” Her answer pushed the teasing light from his eyes. “I didn’t feel good and was looking for some comfort.”

  “How does my shirt bring you comfort?”

  “It smells like you,” she admitted softly.

  Joe swore. “Now I feel even more like a piece of…” His words ended in a sigh. “About last night. I’m…I’m sorry.”

  Emma grinned. “Was that painful? Because it looked like it caused you actual physical pain.”

  He shrugged.

  “You’re not used to having to apologize for your actions, are you?”

  “No. But that’s not it…” He shifted a little then scrubbed his hands over his face. A move that told her he’d propped his phone against something, instead of holding it as she was hers. “Look, Em, I was a righteous shit last night and when you rang off, I…Well, I smashed my mobile to bits.”

  “Because you were mad at me.”

  He hissed a breath then locked his gaze with hers, an intensity in his eyes that had her heart skipping a few beats. “I wasn’t. Not with you. I was angry with myself. I had driven you away and that’s the last thing I ever want to do.”

  The ache inside her grew. The calls and texts that brought them closer in spirit, only amplified the physical distance between them. That distance was never more apparent than right then, as she wished, above all else, she could touch him.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated, the words coming easier to him this time. “Forgive me.”

  Her heart climbed into her throat. “I already did,” she admitted softly. “Earlier today, when I came home to a condo filled with flowers. How did you manage to round up that many in less than a day?”

  “Marvin. He’s the reason I have a new mobile, as well.”

  His manager. Of course.

  Joe’s mouth curved in a slow smile. “Were there lots of them? I asked for lots of them. A few lots actually.”

  “I think you went overboard.”

  “Probably. Everything past threatening to kick Gare’s ass is a bit of a blur.”

  “You didn’t!” She burst out laughing. “He’d fold you in half and stuff you in the luggage compartment of your tour bus.”

  “I’ll have you know I can hold my own in the sparring ring.” His expression suggested she’d somehow questioned his manhood.

  “Maybe in a sparring ring.” She left out the part about him needing to be sober.

  “Damn. It’s a good thing my ego is—”

  “Inflated?”

  “—healthy. You know how to wound a man.”

  “Gary’s bigger, looks to be stronger, and has a completely different skill set than you.” One that included hand-to-hand combat, if the way he held himself was anything to go by. “He’s obviously more level-headed than you, too or, believe me, you’d be in the luggage compartment.”

  “And to think I sent you flowers,” he said with a laugh.

  “Yeah, you did.” She smiled, her gaze holding his. She seemed to have no control over how her voice had gone all soft on her. “Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome.” His had gone all soft too. Wasn’t that interesting? “Are you going to show me?”

  Her mind skittered in a million different directions. “Show you what?”

  “Your flowers.”

  “Right! The flowers. Of course. I sent you a photo earlier.”

  “Man, I would love to know where your mind just ran off to.”

  “I bet you would,” she whispered under her breath.

  “What was that?” When she didn’t answer, his mouth curved in a knowing smile. “You sent me a snap of one vase. I did better than just one vase.”

  He most certainly did. Easing out of the bed, Emma turned her phone around so he was looking in the same direction as she. Without a word, she exited her bedroom and headed down the hall, flicking on lights as she went. Once in her living room, she made a slow sweep left, then right so he could get the full effect.

  When Joe made a comment she didn’t quite catch, she turned the phone so the camera once again faced her. “What was that?”

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t say a word, just closed his eyes. He kept them closed for a good thirty seconds while his nostrils flared and his jaw tightened. Finally, he snapped them back open to reveal a look so hot, it scorched her through the phone.

  “Fuck me dead,” he muttered harshly.

  Caught off guard, Emma gasped. “What?” His gaze was locked on something to her right and behind her.

  Trying to figure out what he was reacting to, she looked over her shoulder, and was met with a reflection of her lace and silk covered ass. Thanks to the oversized mirror leaning against the wall and the fact all her shifting around on her bed had caused his shirt to become wedged in her waistband, Joe had the perfect view of white floral undies trimmed in turquoise lace. This particular pair was cut high in the back, designed in a way that left the bottom half of her cheeks exposed.

  “Shit!” Emma slapped her free hand over her butt and turned so the mirror was no longer in view.

  “Don’t you dare,” Joe whispered, his voice low and rough. “Turn back around, give me another look.”

  She hesitated.

  “Come on, Sunshine. Don’t make me beg.”

  She turned.

  “Awe, Fuck.” His gaze locked onto the mirror behind her. His eyes were completely on fire.

  Her nipples hardened. And thanks to her wearing nothing but his shirt there was no mistaking it. Good thing he was still focused on her ass.

  “You’re not wearing pants,” he said with just a hint of accusation.

  “You woke me from a sound sleep. What did you expect?”

  He looked down, leaving her staring at the top of his head. There was a rasping sound, followed by a sigh.

  Holy shit, did he just unzip?

  “Christ, now I’m going to spend the night with the imprint of my zipper permanently tattooed on the side of my cock.”

  His voice, deep and full of arousal, was the stuff fantasies were spun around. Her fantasies, at least. She squeezed her thighs together in response.

  A low groan ripped from the back of his throat. He leaned in, closer to the screen, and said gruffly, “Sunshine, it’s time to move away from the mirror and prop me on the side table so we can end this night the right way.”

  “Why do you want me to prop you on the side table?” she asked, her voice almost as hoarse as his.

  “So I can watch you touch yourself.”

  Her breathing hitched. His gaze held her prisoner. More tempted than she ever would have imagined, she whispered, “Why would I need to touch myself when I’ve got your voice?”

  “Christ.”

  “You have a v
oice made for sin, Joe. If you ever give up music, you could make a killing as a phone sex operator. Men do that, too, right?”

  The look he gave her was priceless and went a long way in distracting her from her own arousal. “Better yet, for your next release, just make a record that is nothing but sex talk. Naughty words of encouragement and promise in that sexy as hell accent. My God, you’d have a platinum seller overnight, with just the single women snatching it up to masturbate to. I bet even the ones with lovers would get on board. Just pop their earbuds in and get naked with their man while your voice drives them to the best orgasm of their life.”

  He scowled, and she had to laugh. “Are you blushing? It’s hard to tell with your beard but…You are! You’re blushing!”

  “I don’t think so.”

  He most definitely was. “I’m serious. The accent, that growling sound you make when singing that has every heterosexual woman who has ever heard you wondering if you make the same noise while having sex. Your voice alone could…” Emma shivered in delight.

  His eyes burned. His crooked smile made an appearance. “My voice alone could what, Sunshine? Bring you to climax?”

  She was already halfway there. “Yes.”

  The growl he released curled her toes. He turned away, Adams apple bobbing, then with a muttered curse, he remet her gaze. “We’ll be in Baton Rouge tomorrow. The Capital Center Hilton.”

  “Joe?” He couldn’t possibly be asking her to come to him. Could he? Her heart turned over in her chest. It was a moment before she could draw enough oxygen into her lungs to speak. Telling her what city they would be—or currently were—in was nothing new. But he had never, not once, told her what hotel he was staying at while performing in that city. “I’m leaving for New York tomorrow.”

  “Work?”

  “No.” During one of their first telephone conversations she’d told him she was a self-employed graphic artist. What she hadn’t told him was that she’d completed her final design. “From there I catch a flight to Scotland.”

  “Why the fuck would you want to go there?” Suddenly he was walking, she could tell by the way the scenery behind him kept changing.

  When he finally stopped, Emma caught the flash of a bottle as he raised it toward his lips. “Joe.”

  He sighed and set the bottle down. As he looked back at her, the wounds she’d glimpsed that very first night were there again.

  Tell me you don’t want me to go.

  She’d change her plans in a heartbeat if he asked. Which was crazy, really, but being with him, even if it wasn’t in a foreign destination she’d only dreamt about, was better than being alone. She was tired of being alone, of wanting something—him—and not being able to have it. If the look in his eyes was any indication, he was tired of it, too.

  “When will you be back?” he asked, his voice completely devoid of expression.

  “I don’t know.”

  Tell me you want me to come to you. Say it.

  He just watched her silently. Minutes ticked by and still, he said nothing.

  “Joe.” She repeated softly.

  “You should…”

  Oh, God. Her heart actually skipped a beat.

  “You should go to England. Far classier lads to be found there.”

  Disappointment nearly choked her. No worries. She was being foolish, thinking this thing between them could be anything more.

  “Yeah. I will.” It was hard to get the words past her dry throat. “I have to get up early tomorrow, so…”

  “Right. Sure.” A shadow fell across his face, but he still didn’t give voice to the words she was so desperate to hear. “Have a good trip, Sunshine.”

  Joe disconnected.

  Emma returned to her bed and cried herself back to sleep.

  Alison stood beside Emma in the airport check-in line, fiddling with her phone. “I can’t believe you’re really going through with this.”

  Emma sighed. “Didn’t we go over this yesterday?”

  “Yes, but that was before you received enough flowers to brighten the day of patients all over the city.”

  The line moved forward two steps. Alison’s attention was still on her phone so Emma took hold of her elbow and pulled her along. “Thank you for doing that, by the way, for delivering them to the local oncology wards.”

  Alison shrugged like it was no big deal, but Emma knew otherwise. Gifts of any kind helped to lift patients’ spirits. But those most appreciated were the ones that brought beauty to a drab, white-washed hospital room.

  “I’m serious, Al, thank you.”

  “You know I would do anything for you. And what is the alternative, just leaving them in your condo?” She was quiet a moment, still staring at her damn phone. “Just so you know, I’m not giving them all away. I’m taking one or two home with me.”

  “Good.” The line shifted again. Emma looked back at Alison with a frown. “Ahem.”

  Alison glanced up and stepped forward.

  “What is it with you and that phone, anyway?”

  “I’m looking at pictures of us.” Al tipped the phone so Emma could see the screen. “Look! Here we are at high school graduation.” She flipped to the next photo. “At my twenty-first birthday party.” One more flip and Emma’s stomach dropped to her toes. “And here we are at the Blind Man’s Alibi concert.”

  “I’m coming back, you know,” Emma reassured, her throat tight. “You’re going to see me again.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it. It feels more like…”

  “More like, what?”

  “Listen to me,” Alison commanded softly. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” Emma agreed.

  “Don’t just say okay, hear what I’m saying to you.”

  “All right. Yes.”

  “I know you’ve always wanted to travel—”

  “That’s what I’m doing.”

  “—but I’m not convinced that’s what you’re doing.”

  Emma raised a brow.

  “I think you’re running. Heck, I know you are because you admitted it to me just yesterday. Running from your prognosis, from your feelings for Joe. Emma, you said you were going to live. Instead you’re running away to die.”

  What the hell? Where did she get that from? Emma stood in stunned silence for a moment. “That’s not true.”

  Alison shoved her phone in Emma’s face. “Look at him, Em. Look!”

  Joe onstage, staring down into the audience. Staring at her. While she had been busy feeding lines to him, Alison had obviously been snapping photos. Emma couldn’t help herself. She curled her fingers around the phone and brought Joe’s image closer.

  “You don’t even want to go to Europe. It’s written all over your face.”

  Alison was right, she didn’t want to go. Emma had spent her morning re-packing her bag over and over while surreptitiously checking her phone. But no matter how much she wished he would, Joe hadn’t called.

  It was hard to pack a bag while crying.

  Even harder to ignore the truth while it was staring her in the face.

  “I’m so damn tired of being alone,” Emma whispered.

  “I know you are,” Alison replied with terrifying gentleness. “Here’s the thing, you don’t have to be alone. Not if you choose to live.”

  Emma shook her head.

  Alison shifted to stand at her side, pointing at the photo. “Look at the picture, Emma. Do you see his expression?”

  “He looks…” She had no idea how to describe it.

  “He looks like he’s been waiting his whole life to find you and suddenly there you are.”

  “No.”

  Alison sighed and rested her head on Emma’s shoulder. “I’ve looked at this picture over and over these past few weeks. That is exactly what his expression says.” When Emma didn’t respond, Alison continued. “Do me a favor.”

  “What?”

  “Go to him. If you want to travel, travel with Joe. If you want to grab life by the balls, grab�
�”

  “Joe by the balls?”

  Alison snorted. Then she glanced at the people around them, all of whom had suddenly fallen silent, and snorted again.

  Suddenly they were both laughing and it felt good. It felt really, very good.

  Emma sobered first. “And if he turns me away?”

  “Then you hop a flight to Scotland and see the world. Just…don’t stay gone too long.”

  She was tempted. So tempted. “God, Al.”

  Alison raised her eyebrow, challenge gleaming in her eyes. “One thing about you that has never changed, not since we first met, is the way you run headfirst into any situation no matter how complicated it is. You don’t back down. You’ve never backed down, Emma! Why would you start now?”

  Heart double-timing in her chest, Emma shoved her ticket into her satchel. She turned to the woman behind the counter. “I need a ticket to Baton Rouge, please.”

  “That’s my girl,” Alison whispered. She took her phone away from Emma.

  The attendant smiled. “First class or—”

  “Whatever is available on the first flight out.”

  “We’ve got a seat in coach on flight 1226 which departs from Concourse B Gate 3 in ninety minutes.”

  “That’s fine.” Emma handed over her credit card.

  Alison started bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I’m so happy you’re doing this. You’re going to send me lots of pictures, right? So I can live vicariously through you?”

  “You have Kevin,” Emma said pointedly.

  “Right. Sorry.” She cleared her throat then grinned. “I still want photos.”

  “Fine.”

  “Lots of them.”

  Emma took her ticket from the attendant and started walking. Alison matched her pace, which wasn’t difficult to do since she stood only three inches taller than Emma’s own five foot five. They moved to Concourse B and stopped just outside the line waiting to go through the security scan.

  Alison gave her a fast hug. “I’m going to miss you. More than you know.”

  “I’m going to miss you, too.”

  “Nah, you’ll be too busy living the rock star lifestyle.”

  Emma grinned and dug through her satchel. “I have something for you.” She pulled out the gift she’d purchased only three days ago. “For you and Kevin. Sort of a…wedding present, I suppose.”