Bulletproof Weeks

by Taryn Elliott

  Zeke twisted an invisible button in front of his lips. “Got it.” He looked down at Cody. “Got it?”

  Cody gave a short, loud bark.

  “See? Secret.”

  She rolled her eyes. Secret, my ass. She followed them down to the kitchen. The stereo was on and Journey blared from the music room. Emerson and Julian were belting out the words to “Wheel In the Sky” and passing out plates of jumbo slices of French toast.

  By the oven, she got a peck on the cheek from Julian and a plate shoved in her hands. “Fixings on the table.”

  She spotted Logan at the table and sat down. “I’ll miss the morning production, even if my cholesterol won’t.”

  He leaned over and kissed her and because he tasted like syrup, she lingered a bit before pulling back. He waggled his eyebrows then shoved another bite in his mouth.

  The clang of dishes and silverware and laughter left a pang in her chest. She really was going to miss the chaos. She finished her plate and started collecting empties when the front gate buzzed.

  “If that’s the bacon fairy, take an order. Christian hogged it all.”

  She laughed and headed to the intercom. “Can I help you?”

  “Delivery.”

  “What company?”

  “It’s Mark from Stack Grocery.”

  Logan had mentioned that he did an order. She shrugged. “C’mon in.” She went to the door as the truck pulled up.

  “Hey, Bella. Someone sure likes you. Or maybe he’s in trouble?”

  She smiled at the youngest Stack brother. “Not yet.”

  He leaned into the truck and came out with a huge basket of white dahlias and red roses in an elaborate arrangement.

  “Wow. Guess he needs to go out of town more often if I’m getting this kind of spread.”

  “No kidding.”

  She dug into her hoodie and found a five. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No, thank you. These are lovely. Must have been a special order.”

  “Yeah, there were. Took a whole day to get them from the distributor. Have a nice one, Bella.”

  She took a deep, appreciative smell of the huge white blooms, then to the tight rosebuds. “I could use a hand,” she yelled. Cody came to the door with a yip and ran around her legs. “You’re adorable, but you cannot close the door.” The dog nosed the door closed. “Or you can. That’s a good trick.”

  “He knows many tricks,” Zeke said with a grin. “Here let me—crap.”

  “What? Aren’t they beautiful? I don’t see dahlias too often.”

  Zeke’s crystal blue eyes met hers over the flowers, and they’d lost their sparkle. “Yeah. Unfortunately I do.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Did the delivery guy leave already?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Was that the—” Logan came to the door and his face went from open smiles to a closed-off wall. He brushed by her to look out the window. “Did he leave?”

  “Yes. What’s going on?” She walked into the kitchen and set the basket down on the island. Then she saw the cream-colored card in the blooms.

  “Izzy, don’t—”

  She held up a finger then pulled the card stock out of the envelope.

  I’ve been missing you. Europe just isn’t the same without you. I have this huge place all to myself. The honeymoon suite, of course. You remember how we christened that one in Paris. Every room.

  I can’t wait to do it again.

  Love,

  Me

  She handed off the note to Logan, her gut a slushy combination of ice and acid.

  He didn’t even look at it, just crumpled it in his hand. His eyebrows snapped down as anger flashed in his eyes.

  “You’re not going to read it?”

  “I don’t need to.”

  “Maybe you do.”

  “It’s just some sort of lie or fantasy. It’s all the same.”

  “A honeymoon suite in Paris, christening every room? At least she goes big on the fantasies.”

  Logan’s face went blank.

  “Ah. Not a fantasy this time, huh? So there was a time in Paris?”

  “Izzy, I…”

  “Yeah. Got it.” She scrubbed her hands down her thighs. “Hey, you guys better get on the road, huh? Busy day.”

  “Isabella.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Logan exchanged a look with Zeke. Dammit, she hated when he tried to handle her.

  “Okay, time to file out. Everyone gets one kiss from Izzy B and we’re outtie.” Zeke clapped his hands. “I, however, get first dibs.” He hauled her up into a bear hug and pressed a noisy kiss on her cheek. “We’ll miss you, beautiful.”

  She couldn’t hold out against Zeke or his dog. She hugged him back and gave the dog a good scratch. The guys filed out, each of them hugging her and making a little joke about how they’d miss her.

  When the only one left was Logan, she turned on her heel and headed for the living room. “We don’t have time for this. Go. I’m fine. I promise.”

  “‘I’m fine’ does not mean fine. Every guy knows that.”

  She whirled around. “We haven’t heard from her for months and now she sends this?”

  “It hasn’t been months, really.”

  Sweat sheened her forehead and chest and she could actually feel the heat radiating off her cheeks. “You told me you wouldn’t keep anything from me.”

  “She’s sent flowers since the beginning. I just turn the delivery guy around and have it sent to a nursing home or hospital. Whatever is on their route that day.”

  She clutched her shaking fingers together and pressed them to her lips. “How many times?” When he averted his eyes and opened his mouth, she charged him. “Don’t lie.”

  His green eyes blazed fury. “What do you want to hear? That she ruined my favorite flower—my mother’s favorite flower?”

  She paced away with a curse. “Logan, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, this woman has hit all the high points. She sends me that arrangement every week. I didn’t even think about letting you go to the door because she’d already sent one this week.”

  “So, what? Eight times? We’ve been living together for two months and you didn’t tell me?”

  “No. Henry had been turning it away in New York for me. These just started coming two weeks ago.”

  “So she figured out you’re in Winchester Falls?”

  “Evidently.”

  “Do you think she knows about us?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I’m getting your bodyguard back up here.”

  “No. No, you are not. I’m perfectly safe here. She’s in Europe.”

  “So the note says. She could be lying.”

  “Well, she wasn’t lying about you fucking on every surface of some hotel suite, now was she?” She fisted her hands and swung away from him. “Dammit.” She hadn’t meant to say that.

  “Babe, I—”

  She shrugged off his touch. “Just don’t. I’m just mad at myself. It’s not like I don’t have a past. I’ve done some hotel banging myself, buddy. You just don’t get it thrown in your face on classy card stock.”

  He crossed his arms. “Well, I can say the idea of you banging anyone but me makes me mildly murderous. So, I get it.”

  She bent at the waist and laughed, then growled. It so wasn’t funny, but she was so freaking pissed she couldn’t even breathe around it. At him for keeping it from her, but most especially at Aimee Collen. “God, that woman makes me want to tear every little strand of her stupid streaky hair out of her head and feed it to her.”

  He stood in front of her and she quickly wiped at the tears she hadn’t realized had fallen. He blew out a breath and hauled her into his arms.

  “This was why I didn’t want to tell you.” He wrapped his arms around her.

  She clutched the front of his shirt. “Denying that she’s still pulling her shit doesn’t make it go away. It just makes me feel
stupid when I get blindsided like that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She lifted her hand to his jaw. “I know you are.”

  “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

  “I told you I’m going—”

  “I know, the store. Can you go now? Follow us down?”

  She sighed and nodded because his eyes were so haunted. Dammit, she wanted this over with. That possibility felt further from the truth than ever.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “You gotta relax.”

  “I’m not going to fucking relax.”

  “She’s fine. She’s been checking in every hour.”

  Zeke’s rational side was going to get him a black eye if she didn’t shut the hell up. Logan paced the length of the elegant waiting room for the umpteenth time. Between the Izzy situation and having the label listening to the record behind closed doors, he was ready to smash something.

  Christ, he hadn’t been this keyed up since shopping the first All the King’s Men album nearly twenty years ago. He rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up and peeked at his watch.

  “It’s about two minutes since the last time you checked.”

  “You are not helping matters, Z.”

  “They’re either going to love it or hate it. There’s no real wiggle room for this album and you know it.”

  Logan cracked his knuckles. “I know. I’m not changing a word though.”

  “I know. And I’m behind you on that.” Zeke stood up. “We’ve been with the label for a good long time now.”

  “That means shit these days.”

  Zeke scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m just going to sit down and not say anything since both pep talks and tough love are obviously not working.”

  “Good.” And because he couldn’t stand himself he walked down the hall to the stairs and shot through the door. He climbed the stairs two at a time to the roof. Atlas Records was in the theater district and overlooked the edges of Central Park.

  Busy streets glittered with a sheen of rain and the marching ants of yellow cabs pushing their way around streets bulging with too many people. Spring fever was officially upon most of New York. Everyone wanted out, rain or not.

  He leaned on the brick ledge and let the misty rain soak into him. He was pretty sure he’d set of some sort of alarm. There were far too many people that still got bad news at this agency. Creative types, both on the stage and behind it, were still prone to a swan dive to make a statement. But he’d never been the kind to think that death was the way out.

  He turned away from city and found three security people at the doorway. “Just getting some air.”

  “You can’t be up here, sir.”

  “All right, no need to get twitchy.” The kid looked positively terrified, but Logan followed him to the elevator without another word. When the doors opened on six, Zeke was waiting with a smile.

  “Fucking jackpot.”

  Logan strode down the hall. Charlie was outside the office shaking hands with a trio of people that Logan knew still had the power to make or break careers. The woman in the icy gray suit turned to him and gave him a small nod before she disappeared back into the office.

  He smiled for the first time since that morning. Belinda Atlas liked their shit. Fuckin’ A.

  Charlie turned to him. “Where have you been hiding that gold, King?”

  “Winchester Falls, man.”

  “Well get back there and soak up more magic. Last week in April we take to the late night talk show circuit and heavy radio rotation.”

  Zeke mimed a three-point basket. “Hell, yeah.”

  “Get some rest boys. It’s time for old Charlie to work his mojo now.”

  He checked in with Izzy and allowed himself to get swept up into talk of celebration and a visit to a club on Broadway. Four hours later he was deposited onto a small airstrip where a helicopter waited for him.

  Logan had just enough good whiskey running through his veins to make a production of his return. He texted Izzy when he was twenty minutes out from their cabin. It wasn’t his any longer. The cabin was theirs and he wanted to celebrate with his woman.

  He’d checked in with Marcus and Aimee was still located at some party village in the Mediterranean. Tonight would be nothing but them.

  If she’d have him.

  She stood in the soft glow of the lights of his backyard as the helicopter landed on the rarely used helipad on the edges of his property. He signed off on the pilot’s papers and hopped out.

  The whirling blades kicked up remnants of snow and mud from the March thaw. Nothing mattered but getting across the yard to her. She had her arms crossed with a huge cardigan protecting her from the late night air.

  He stopped at the edge of the slate stonework that ringed his pool area and slowly walked up the steps. This was what he wanted for the rest of his days. Izzy waiting in the welcoming light.

  He didn’t want the darkness anymore.

  When he got to the top step, she gave him a half smile and he crushed her to him, lifting her off her feet. “Damn, I love you.”

  She hooked her arm around his shoulders. “That was quite the entrance.”

  “I had good news.”

  Her eyes were shining in the warm glow of home. “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He caught her mouth in a hot, wild kiss and carried her inside. Things were looking up and that’s what he was going to focus on.

  ∞ ♦ ∞

  Isabella slid another glossy shot into the refuse pile. She’d asked Logan to send over some shots from the new tour so she could get going on the Summer Festival poster. It was only six weeks away and she needed to get artwork to the printer. She’d been expecting a digital landslide of pictures via email, not an actual mailer full of shots from his tour photographer.

  Atlas Records had gone all out on the Caged Soul Tour. The fact that All the King’s Men were selling out arenas and had been named the hottest tour of the summer certainly didn’t hurt either. The more money they made for the label, the more they threw at them.

  The album release had been one of the top sellers of the year. Somehow, in the midst of all the chaos, Logan had stayed true to his word. Every two weeks they had a full three days together, even if he had to spend one day traveling to get to her.

  And he did it without complaint. In fact, he’d been infused with an energy she hadn’t ever seen in him before. Aimee was still attending his shows, but not even her limitless money could get around the massive ticket deficit. Tickets sold out before the thirty minute mark on the sale days and the scalpers were making a fortune.

  Zeke checked in with her now and again and verified that Logan had found a way to ignore her presence during the shows. It helped that the crowds were just too huge. Now that she couldn’t get the same seat at every venue, her ability to get into Logan’s head had been been taken away.

  The handful of concerts Isabella had been able to attend backed up Zeke and Logan’s claims. Her man was on fire. He and the band owned the stage and brought on a rotating schedule of opening acts that had only increased their visibility. Right now, All the King’s Men could do no wrong.

  And their relationship was tighter than ever.

  Maybe this dating a rockstar thing wasn’t going to ruin her life after all.

  “Where’s your wine thingie?”

  Bella grinned. “Top drawer under the microwave.”

  “Aha! Got it.” A mechanical whirring came from the kitchen. “Holy shit, it does it for you?”

  “Just bring the wine, woman.”

  Nic came in with two bowl-sized glasses of white wine. She handed her one and then settled herself across from Bella.

  “Find big enough glasses?”

  Nic cupped the glass from the bottom. “Hey, your boyfriend had them.”

  Bella took a sip and set hers on the coffee table. “What do you think of this one?”

  Nic’s eyes widened and she snatched the picture. “Whoa. He wear
s too many clothes when he’s home.”

  Bella plucked the photo out of her hand. Logan was wearing his typical black, but the skintight t-shirt had ridden up, showing a slash of tightly muscled belly. “Never mind. Not using that one.”

  Nic grabbed the picture again. “Honestly.”

  “Stop drooling over Logan. Adam will get jealous.”

  “Adam needs to start working out with Logan. Holy crap.”

  Bella tried not to smile. Logan getting into tour shape and Logan in tour shape were two different beasts. He’d leaned down again thanks to sweating his ass off five nights a week and now was…well, he was certainly full of energy.

  “Stop smirking.”

  “I’m not,” she said around a laugh.

  “You so are. How is it that I always had the musician boyfriend crushes and you are the one that actually ended up with one?”

  “Because you met your true love at age…what was it?”

  “Seven.”

  Bella reached for the pic and Nic gripped it tight. “Drop it.”

  “Ooh.” With a disgusted noise, she let her take the photo. She took a hefty sip of her wine. “At least put it in the maybe pile.”

  “Okay. That I can do. But if it goes missing, I will find you.”

  Nic stuck out her tongue and pushed through the pile between them. “What about this one?”

  Bella looked up from the two she had in her hands. She dropped both. “Oh, you little goddess.” It was a live shot of Zeke and Logan at the microphone. Since they were both headlining The Barn for the festival, with another group of Logan’s friends tagging along, it was just what she needed for one of the posters. “Perfect.”

  “That’s right. I am the goddess. You may bow.”

  Bella held up her glass and they clinked.

  “So does that mean we can watch Pretty in Pink now?”

  “Yes. It absolutely means we can watch Pretty in Pink.”

  Thirty minutes into the movie her best friend was passed out on her couch. Bella texted Adam that his wife was out for the count and tucked a blanket around her. She moved around the cabin and made sure everything was locked. She doublechecked the security settings and curled into the wide leather chair beside Nic to watch the prom scene ending.