by V. Vaughn
Aleck
Rocked by the Bear
V. Vaughn
Contents
Copyright
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About the Author
Copyright © 2016 by V. Vaughn
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Croco Designs
Editing by Jodi Henley and Red Adept Publishing
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Foreword
Noel Keating loves her job as talent scout, Link Murphy’s assistant. Traveling to exciting places and searching for the next big star with her boyfriend is the perfect mix of business and pleasure - until they land in Brunswick, Maine. Sent to scope out an underground sensation, Noel meets a Nordic god of a man that rocks her world beyond her wildest dreams. And all she ever wanted is no longer good enough.
Aleck Lindquist lives life behind the scenes. As a talented composer and lyricist, it’s not often he has to deal with more than a few people at a time. But when his brother is thrown into the limelight, fame shines on Aleck too. He’d turn it down in a heartbeat if the deal didn’t include one-on-one time with the sexy brunette that happens to be his true mate. Now he’ll do anything to convince Noel she’s the one.
1
The wheels on my luggage squeak as they roll behind me, and my designer heels tap on the pavement when I walk toward the rental car lot. I just landed at the airport in Portland, Maine, and am on my way to the coastal town of Brunswick. The band Second Sound is playing in a local bar, and I’m here to find out if they’re as good in person as they appear online. Last week I discovered them on YouTube, and judging by the hits and comments on their first video, this band is ripe for the picking. I’m going to pluck them first.
The group is a trifecta of appeal. They’re sexy, talented musicians that compose good songs of their own. I guess they first got their fame on the Internet from the distinctive male members. The three guys are the major part of quadruplets that look like Nordic gods, and when I imagine the products they could sell with their looks alone, my fingers itch to whip out my credit card. There are also two women to capture the male audience with their contrasting dark hair and sexy curves.
Pain shoots through my ankle when my spike heel catches in a crack in the pavement, and I stumble. I suppose wearing a couture skirt and stilettos wasn’t the best choice if I’m going to a podunk town, but one thing I’ve learned is that a woman my age dressed in jeans isn’t taken seriously, and I plan to get the job done tonight.
Cold wind blows hair out of my face as I approach the car in space B32. I sigh when I see the small sedan. Someday I’ll be rich and famous enough that a driver will take me where I need to go. But for now I’m stuck roughing it as I do my best to make my boyfriend and boss, Link Murphy, the best agent in the music business. My Brighton bag bounces on the backseat of the car when I toss it in, and the driver door creaks open when I yank. I wish Link were here with me. When I travel with him, we go in style.
The hard plastic of the steering wheel is ice cold under my palms as I back up, and when I pull out of the lot I hold one hand up to the vent blasting air. In twenty-five minutes I should be at Gideon’s Pub and just in time to see Second Sound’s first set. I think about how excited Link sounded over the phone when I called him about my discovery. But he was too busy on tour with his hot new girl band to come scout with me and begged me to go on my own. So here I am, reliving my college days in a cheap car on my way to a place that likely serves cheap beer too. I can’t wait to get to the point I can leave this behind.
I’m well versed in small-town New England, because I grew up in Northern Maine, where there are more bears than people. The moment I got out of high school, I was off to college in California, where the stars shine, and one day the rock on my finger will too. I landed an internship my senior year as Link Murphy’s assistant, and that’s the day I knew my tide had turned. Suddenly immersed in the world of pop music working for an agent, I was rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous. Since I’m a stickler for details and good with people, it didn’t take long for me to prove my worth to Link.
Within weeks of my graduation he became more than my boss, and we’ve been together for almost a year.
Taillights glow as I weave my way in and out of Portland traffic. Compared to LA, this is child’s play, and I break free from the pack quickly as I head north. I crank up the car’s radio as a pop tune plays, and I imagine Second Sound will be that band soon. And it will all be because of me. I smile to myself, and my glee doesn’t fade when I enter the quaint college town of Brunswick. The pub is located on the main street, and I park in a space that faces a town green. Cold air makes my ears sting as I move quickly toward the bar. Two girls giggle as they flirt with the bouncer at the door, and I wonder if they’re using fake IDs. The crowd’s cheers are audible when he lets them in. I dig in my purse for my driver’s license as I walk, and when I glance up the bouncer grins at me. “You must be new in town, because I’d remember”—he pauses as he gives me the once-over with his eyes and then winks as he says—“you.”
I roll my eyes at him as I thrust out my ID. He doesn’t even glance at it and pulls the door open for me instead. I say, “Thanks,” before I step into steamy heat just in time to see the lead singer jog to the stage. I, like most of the other women around me, gasp at the sight of him. Adrian Lindquist is a massive guy, built of pure muscle. He’s got a mane of white-blond hair I’d love to twist around my finger. Well, if I were into that type. I prefer a cultured-looking man like my boyfriend, Link. He’s the kind of guy that looks good in suits, with his bronze skin and Hollywood smile. Adrian launches into a song, and I watch him interact with the lead singer, a girl named Nessa, whose triplet sister Ginny plays keyboards for the band. I’m not sure how I’m going to work the sibling angle yet, but it’s going to be a great interview question.
I wince at the sound of a group of girls singing badly near me as I watch the band. It appears the college kids of this town love Second Sound, and I work my way to the edge of the room to keep from being jostled around by the gyrating bodies. I notice another tall blond near the edge of the stage, and I guess he’s the fourth Lindquist. While his features are like the lead singer, this guy is almost nerdy. And man, what a sexy nerd he is. He’s seen a gym, judging by the width of his shoulders. I wonder if he’s the band’s manager, and I lick my lips as I imagine he’ll appeal to a different kind of girl than his brothers do. My pulse races with my excitement about finding a band that is almost too good to be true. I imagine the posters and magazine articles I can arrange to whip the female teen population into a frenzy.
My phone is slick in my hand as I take it out of my purse to record a video clip for Link. Just as I start, Adrian yanks a girl up on the stage. He dances with her for a minute before she gets handed off to the bass player. I think every girl in the place wishes she were the one that got to dance with two of the band members. I almost do. I focus my attention on the playback of the video I took, and now my joy can barely be contained, because I think this band is my ticket to fame. I send it to Link. His reply is quick, and I look
down at the text that reads, “Get me a meeting in Boston on Wednesday.”
I glance up from my phone in time to see the mystery brother walking toward the bar. He intrigues me, and I decide to follow him. He approaches the bartender and orders something that I can’t hear. It’s always good to know what kind of substances a potential band ingests, so I watch intently. I notice this brother’s hair is cut in a serious style that begs to be mussed up. At first glance he appears to be a normal guy, but upon further inspection there’s nothing average about him. He reaches up to scratch his head and flexes a forearm that makes my knees weak with the way the muscles ripple. He turns toward me, and while he doesn’t look directly at me, the crystal-blue eyes of his gaze mesmerize me anyway. Wow. I’m not sure how he does it, but the sex appeal he radiates is like a magnet, and I want to slam my body against his. I clear my throat to get a hold of myself. I have a boyfriend, after all.
The bartender hands him two large pitchers of what appears to be ice water, and I’m relieved. They’re still a wholesome group, and I plan to keep them that way. The wall I’m leaning against is hard on my hands as I push myself off it and approach the guy. When he reaches for the tray of glasses I speak loudly. “Let me help you with that.”
He turns his gaze toward me, and for a moment I’m completely starstruck. If it’s possible, he’s even more magnetic up close. “Thanks,” he says.
I pull myself together and answer a bit too abruptly, “Anytime.” I grab the tray and lift it above my head with the skill I honed waiting tables during college summers. The guy stares at me for a moment as if what I did is amazing and then moves to clear a path through the crowd for us to the stage. We climb a few steps that are off to the side, and the pitchers he was holding thump when he sets them down on a small table before turning to me. I have a sudden urge to touch him, and I horrify myself when I brush my hand against his as he takes the tray.
Our brief contact sends a pulse of heat through me, and I swear his fingers are hotter than humanly possible. He must have felt something weird too because he freezes to stare at me. I smile as the heat of a flush creeps up my neck. But the guy blinks, hands me the tray, and turns away before I can say anything. It’s as if the warmth of the sun is suddenly blocked by a cloud, because I’m let down. I realize he has no idea who I am and probably thinks I work here. It makes me chuckle to myself as I walk away. The mystery brother is about to find out I’m going to change his life, and if I get my way, he and his band are going to make me rich.
2
As much as I want to approach the serious brother about the band, I think it’s best to talk to the lead singer, Adrian, instead. Once the band finishes their last song I wait patiently for the crowd to clear. It’s not hard, because the display of muscle as the Lindquist brothers break down their equipment isn’t a bad encore. I blink when the lights flip on, and slide off my stool to approach the stage. The brother I’m attracted to is lifting an amp, and I tear my eyes away from the sight as I focus my attention on the lead singer. “Adrian Lindquist?”
He glances up. “Yes?”
I hold out my business card as my heels tap up the wood steps to the stage. “Noel Keating, Link Murphy’s assistant.”
Adrian frowns and takes the card from me to read it. He glances up at me to ask, “You’re a talent scout?”
“I am. And I have to tell you, you guys are even better in person than you are on video. My boss would like to meet with you.”
I have to hand it to this guy, because he’s not impressed, and that makes me think he’s smart. He squints at me with what I guess is skepticism. He asks, “Really? Why?”
I decide to go with candor, so I say, “Earlier I sent him a video of your performance tonight, and he’s impressed. Most likely he’ll want to offer to be your agent and woo you with an all-expenses-paid trip to California to record a demo, which he’ll use to sign you with a record label.”
His large hand swallows my card. “I’ll tell the manager. Thanks.”
I nod. If I have it right, the serious brother will research me, Link, and the agency, and when he discovers Link’s not only legit but highly sought after, they’ll be interested. I say, “Call me.”
Adrian smiles down at me as though I’m amusing, and I let him, because I want Second Sound as much as they’re going to want us.
Once I’ve left the bar and am in my rental waiting for the heat to kick in, I check my phone. I was hoping for a call or text from Link but don’t find one. I frown at the bright light of my cell glaring up at me as I blow out frosty air. Link and I used to speak every day, no matter how busy he was. But the new band he’s representing is crumbling under the pressure of fame, and he tells me they need his constant attention. My car clunks into gear as I pull out of my spot and head toward the local motel where I’m staying. I’d shake off my worry, but a recent article in the tabloids with incriminating pictures of Link and Sheila, the lead singer of the girl band, is making it hard to believe he isn’t cheating on me. But I refuse to make myself crazy until I learn the truth, so I turn my thoughts to Second Sound and fantasize about all the ways we’re going to make each other famous.
The next morning I wake up feeling refreshed but uneasy. I still haven’t received a text from Link, but I won’t contact him again and be the clingy girlfriend. I huddle down under the covers, and the slippery feel of the polyester bedspread makes me grimace. I glance at the wood-veneer desk. If I were in a nice hotel, I’d work from the room as I eat breakfast, but this motel is beginning to make my skin crawl, so I decide to go find a local coffee shop instead. I’m staying on the east coast until Link flies in to meet with Second Sound on Wednesday, and thank god I’m booked in a four-star hotel in Boston tonight. I reserved a suite with the hope that Link could get away a day early.
I shower quickly, making sure not to touch the walls, and then check out for a morning of stale pastries and too much coffee in the local café. I try to work, but to no avail, because I give myself whiplash glancing up every time the door opens, hoping to see the serious Lindquist brother again. Although I’m not sure what I would do if I did, considering I’m not available. I chide myself for being foolish. Link might be arriving in Boston tonight, so I’d better get moving.
I let myself check my phone when I get to the car in case I didn’t notice a text or call from Link. After an hour of driving I finally break down and call. The phone rings as cars whoosh by me on the interstate. My stomach is in knots as I wonder if I’m going to voicemail.
“Noel,” says Link. “Hey, I’m glad you called.”
The sound of his voice doesn’t make me smile the way it usually does. My stomach rolls with an uneasy feeling I don’t want to identify. “You must be busy.” I bite my tongue before I say I miss him. I’m beginning to wonder if he’s missing me.
He sighs, and I picture him flexing his fingers as he paces. “You have no idea. Look, I’m not going to get to Boston until Wednesday morning.” I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood, because I really want to yell at Link right now. He says, “I know you booked a suite for us, and baby, I’d love to be there, but I just can’t. Not with the way things are going down here.”
I recall the tabloid pictures and imagine Sheila is what’s really going down on him right now before I force the vision out of my head. “Okay.” A horn blares as I try to merge right and cut someone off. I wave my hand in apology, but they’ve sped too far past me to notice. My heart is in my throat as I ask a question I’m afraid I know the answer to. “Would you like me to fly there and help?”
“No,” he says a little too quickly, and now I’m sure he’s hiding something. “No. I feel bad about this. Keep the suite, and we’ll do something special Wednesday night, baby. I promise.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat to control my urge to sob as tears burn in my eyes, creating a watery veil. “Sure.” My blinker ticks as I slow down to pull over at a rest stop. “I’ve got to go.” I click the phone off just before my voice g
ives me away. I’m not a stupid girl, and I don’t need to actually catch Link cheating to know that’s what’s happening.
The engine of my car ticks when I turn it off, and I stare at the vehicles parked in the lot but don’t see them. A paper napkin is rough on my nose as I wipe it, and I take a deep breath. I did see this coming, and the truth is things haven’t been that great with us for a while now. And if my recent thoughts are invaded by a blond whose name I don’t even know, then this is probably for the best.
But it hurts that Link would cheat instead of breaking things off first. I wonder if maybe he’s afraid he’ll lose me as an assistant. And it’s a valid concern, because I hope breaking up doesn’t mean he’ll fire me. I know I’m damn good at my job, and training a new assistant is a lot of work, but then I never thought Link was the kind of guy to cheat, so maybe my employment is in danger. Panic makes my blood run cold, and anger sets in. I’ve got a golden egg dangling from my fingers, and it’s mine. I need a plan. I pull back onto the interstate with the ironclad determination that got me my job in the first place.
Unfortunately my heart didn’t get the memo, and when I check into the suite I fall apart. I guess giving up my dream as the woman on Link Murphy’s arm isn’t so easy to let go after all. So I order every dessert off the overpriced room service menu and drown my sorrows in sugar and chick flicks as I wallow in self-pity for the evening.
I don’t bother to set my alarm, and the next morning my phone ringing wakes me from a dead sleep. Gravel rumbles in my voice as I answer without checking the number. “Noel Keating.”
“Hi, Noel. This is Aleck Lindquist.” The serious brother. His voice spreads warmth through me, and I don’t speak when he pauses. “From Second Sound.”