Rollie & the Rocker (Grace Grayson Security Book 4)

by Elizabeth Stevens

  The closest we came to time alone was the next morning.

  When he arrived at my hotel door to pick me up for the airport, the suit was gone and in its place was a pair of dark jeans and a simple long-sleeved t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

  “When did you have time to pack a bag?” I asked him.

  He grinned a delectable crocked smile. “Tank–”

  “Tank?”

  His smile deepened. “Gavin’s nickname.”

  I nodded thoughtfully. “It suits.”

  “It does. We at Grace Grayson always have a go bag ready.”

  “So, you get hired and don’t even have time to go home before coming on tour with a rockband?” I teased.

  He nodded faux-sorrowfully. “I know. It’s a hard life. But somebody’s got to do it.”

  “What about your girlfriend?” I asked him innocently.

  He scoffed. “No girlfriend.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  He gave me a ‘touché’ look. “No boyfriend, either, sadly.”

  “A dog?”

  “Um, no,” he scoffed, more indignant than before. “Definitely not a dog.”

  “Mother?” I suggested.

  The corner of his lip tipped in humour. “I’m a big boy. I have successfully managed to move out of home and stay there, thanks.”

  I shrugged as I picked up my bag. “How am I supposed to know how much security makes?”

  “Enough, thank you,” he chuckled. “Not as much your line of work, I’ll bet. But it pays the bills…and the vices.”

  “Good to know. Not intimidated by a woman who earns more than you, I hope.”

  “Not at all. Being a kept man is a dream.”

  “Really?” I laughed.

  The eye contact was real. “Darlin’, if I didn’t have to work, I’d have more time to make sure my woman was always fully satisfied.”

  Oh, my.

  Um. Yes, please.

  Outside my head, I kept it a little more put together. “Good to know,” I told him. “I’ll keep that,” I bit my lip for good measure, “in mind.”

  He winked and his smirk was sinfully tempting. “I know I will.”

  Hot dang.

  Everything in me wanted to shut the door and tell Emma we’d get the next flight. Well, almost everything. There was that pesky part of me that would do anything to let the others down – i.e. missing my flight for personal gratification – and another, tiny sliver of a part that had latched onto Ryder the Kept Man idea and wanted to hold onto it, to play with it, a little longer. It wasn’t going to be able to do that if I threw him into my bed the day after I’d met him.

  So, on with the schedule as planned.

  “We ready to move?” Anton called from further up the hallway.

  “Ready,” came a few calls from other rooms, and from Ryder.

  It was the same leaving any hotel. We all make this grand procession, surrounded by staff, like we were something special. Most days, I didn’t feel like something special. I felt like I was doing a job, my job, which I loved.

  It was humorous, then, that returning to the hotel was never the same. Sometimes we’d reverse the exit. Most of the time, we went off to parties or clubs, or the boys got a private car to take them and that night’s someone back to their room. Which is not to say the boys were the only ones who did it.

  “You good?” Ryder asked me and I re-focussed myself and nodded.

  “Good,” I told him.

  “Okay.”

  He stuck close by as we all crowded into the elevator. Five band members, a manager and five security guards. Strictly speaking, while we weren’t above the person limit, I was pretty sure we were above the kg limit. Still, those figures were obviously cautionary because we didn’t all plummet to the ground floor like stones in a sack.

  The drivers had the cars ready. Not for the first time, I hated to think how long other people were waiting because the cars were always there no matter how fast or slow we were to get a move on.

  Ryder held the door of the limo open for me and the boys to climb in.

  We’d started taking limos more for practicality than anything else. A way we could get around and all be in one place. Easier to keep an eye on us that way. Sure, we could all have piled into an SUV, popping the third row down like we were still twelve and car-pooling on the way to a school hockey match. We could have got a van or a mini bus. But the vibe, Mabo. We were a rockband and limo was just more our vibe.

  Nate, forever with his drumsticks, was whacking them on Brax’s leg. “Next stop, LA!” he shouted with a wide smile.

  He said it every time we headed for the airport because it was the thing he’d said when we’d moved to the States. We’d got lucky and it had become his war cry, his lucky charm. It wouldn’t be a safe flight if he didn’t say it.

  “Get your…” Brax muttered, trying to grab the sticks from his twin.

  Nate was too quick for him. “Get my what?” he asked, just begging for a bruising the rate he was going. “Get my what, Braxton?” he laughed, keeping his sticks just out of his brother’s hands.

  “I swear,” Zach said, “We’re gonna wake up and the band’ll be done ‘cos Brax killed him.”

  Cooper muttered something too low for me to hear and managed to whip Nate’s sticks from him hands in one fluid motion.

  “Oi!” Nate cried, all disappointment his game was over.

  “Oi, yourself,” Coop said. “I’ll bury a body for you shits, but not if it’s one of our own.”

  “Brax won’t actually kill me,” Nate said, assuredly.

  “Won’t I?” Brax drawled.

  Nate shook his head. “Nah. That’d kill you, too.”

  We all looked at him in confusion.

  “Freaky twin shit, eh?” he explained.

  “And I suppose you feel each other’s jerk-offs, too,” Coop said, miming the exact thing between his legs.

  Brax and Nate looked at each other for a second like we’d discovered their greatest secret.

  “Wait a second…” Zach said, leaning forward.

  “Psyche!” Brax and Nate both yelled, pointing at us.

  I shook my head with a smile. It wasn’t often that the boys played on their whole twin thing. They usually spent more time pretending they didn’t know each other at all than making jokes together or giving anyone a glimpse into their lives as not just brothers but twins. Sometimes, I was sure that only the five people in the back of that limo actually had any idea how deep the two men actually loved each other. Most of the time, I was convinced all those tiny moments of love were the joke and they actually did hate each other more than they tolerated each other.

  But what was family if not one giant dysfunction?

  Coop and I had always been divided by the four-year age-gap. We loved each other, we got along, but we didn’t always get each other. We weren’t besties and, outside music, we had no real shared passions or hobbies…unless you counted shagging groupies.

  Now the boys were all in their thirties, the age-gap was becoming less noticeable. Although, I’d always considered my ovaries had given me a handicap in the maturity department and at least, in that respect, I’d always been ahead of the rest of them.

  I wasn’t ready for a white dress or picket fence, but I could imagine them on the horizon far more clearly than Brax, Nate, Zach or Coop. If they’d even considered the barest concept of settling down, I’d eat my guitar strings. Nup. Those guys would be bringing groupie #2,086 to my funeral.

  “Tell me about this new security of yours,” Nate was saying, finally over playing the drums on his brother, as he scooted over to sit next to me.

  I shrugged. “Want me to put in a good word?”

  Nate grinned. “That other guy’s more my type.”

  “Gavin?”

  Nate nodded. “So dreamy,” he teased.

  I elbowed him. “Ryder seems fine.”

  “Ye
ah, finely wrapped in those jeans.”

  “He’s all right.”

  “Oh-ho!” Nate cried. “You do think so!”

  I couldn’t help looking to check the thing was up between us and the front seats.

  Nate snorted. “You do, or you wouldn’t have needed to know if he could hear me.”

  I elbowed him again, a little less gently this time. “Who I’m attracted or not attracted to is none of your business.”

  “I disagree.” Nate flopped back against the seat and looked at me.

  “I disagree with your disagreement,” I told him.

  “Nah, see. It is my business because it’s my job to fuck up a fucker who hurts you.”

  I gave him a questioning look. “You think he’s going to hurt me? Me? Do I need to remind you who you’re talking to?”

  “Even One-Night Nora’s not immune to the mysterious ways of the heart,” he said cryptically.

  “You been watching one of those New Orleans specials again?” I asked him. “Macbeth?”

  Nate was a history buff. Always had been. He didn’t care if it was recent or before the dinosaurs, he wanted to know all about it. If there were mentions of magic, he was even more excitable. His excitement meant we heard a lot about it. It was difficult not to take some of it in.

  “I’m just saying,” Nate said with a shrug.

  “Nothing,” I told him. “You’re just saying nothing.”

  He mimed zipping his lips and went over to annoy my brother for a change.

  All the boys had their roles in the band, I guessed. To the outside world, they were all broody and moody and sexy. In the safety of our own little world, it varied. Nate was the comedian, the one who wasn’t afraid to show his feelings for us, the one who tried to get us interacting as a whole. Zach was the next open, but was still withdrawn in his own little world of books in preference to socialisation. I wasn’t afraid to tell the boys how I felt about them, but I never let them in on how I was feeling about myself. And it was a constant competition between Brax and Coop as to who could be the moodiest dickhead on the planet. Cooper was convinced he was the dirtier of the two, but I knew for a fact that Brax just kept his dirty for more private occasions.

  Nate thankfully didn’t pester me for the rest of the trip, during the wait at the airport, or the flight. It was as uneventful as it always was. Zach had his nose buried in a book. Brax practiced his guitar. Cooper went over setlists. Nate bounced around and made sure no one was bored while giving little impromptu percussion performances. He was always a hit with flight attendants.

  Walking out of the airport to the waiting car had me weirdly on edge. My heart beat just a little faster and my breath caught in my throat a little more than it should have. I was vividly aware of every single noise and every single person around me.

  I flinched when Nate bumped me in excitement.

  I jumped when someone called my name.

  Even Ryder just behind me couldn’t completely assuage me. It wasn’t that I thought having Gavin back would have been better or safer. Despite the way I’d behaved, I’d trusted Gavin. The problem was, I hadn’t believed there’d been enough of an issue to trust him with. Now I was coming around to the problem, I was coming around to the sense in security. Even if the problem didn’t amount to anything more, I was okay with caution. And I trusted Gavin enough to trust him leaving me in Ryder’s hands.

  “Miss Curry,” Ryder said as we approached the car.

  He didn’t touch me, as though he’d noticed how jumpy I was, but his arms were held out and around me in a protective and shielding position. I noticed his eyes scanning quickly around the gathered crowd.

  I looked at him and he nodded to the car.

  As a group, we headed towards it.

  “Step back, please,” Ryder said, his whole body between me and the crowd.

  One woman surged towards me and I was in such a hurry to get away that I stepped on Brax’s foot.

  Instead of berating me or teasing me, I just felt his hands steady me.

  “Don’t make me ask again,” Ryder said, his tone low and commanding.

  For a brief moment, I hoped he was like that in the bedroom. But I only had room for that because he’d got the crowd to back off and I could breathe properly again.

  We were almost to the car. Cooper and Brax were in. Nate was getting in.

  “Would fucking listen to Tank,” I heard Ryder mutter.

  “You kiss your mother with that mouth?” I teased as Zach climbed into the car.

  He gave me a soft lop-sided smile. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

  “That’s not an answer to my question.”

  This time, it was a devilish crooked grin. “You’ll find I don’t mix family and pleasure, Miss Curry,” he said matter-of-fact.

  I liked the sound of that. I kicked my chin towards him. “You want to stay less conspicuous? You’d better start calling me Nora,” I said before I swung into the waiting car and pulled the door closed behind me.

  6

  Ryder

  “Status report?” Chaos said as he picked up the call.

  “Well hello to you, too, fine sir,” I said, faking the indignance.

  “You’ve been missed,” he told me, more to placate me than anything else, I was sure. “How are things?”

  “Good,” I said, looking over to where Nora was signing merchandise with the boys in preparation for their meet and greet the next day.

  We’d flown into our first stop the day before and then been hanging out at the hotel around soundcheck. The night before at the hotel had been uneventful. I’d left Nora in her room, which was next to mine with an adjoining door, and she’d still been there the next morning. Overnight, I’d checked up on her until the second time I’d woken her up and deemed her not likely going anywhere.

  “I’ve seen the pictures,” Chaos said.

  I couldn’t quite tell from his tone whether that was good or bad.

  “You look like you’re fitting in,” he finished and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  I was a confident man, bordering on arrogant. I thought I was top shit at the things I did and avoided the stuff I knew I sucked at. I knew I was good at my job. I knew I could get done whatever needed doing. But, when your boss agrees with you, it feels good. Not going to lie. A mark of the arrogant was the desperate need for validation, especially when I knew I wasn’t the first pick for the gig.

  For all my epically good traits – or flaws, if you listened to Nico – I knew who and what I was. I liked shiny things. I got excited about VIPs. I wanted the famous people jobs. I didn’t want fame, but rubbing shoulders was always fun. Being able to dip my toe into their world and not commit anything was the ultimate in experiences.

  “I figured the job called for something a little more laid back,” I said. “Tank parading around in his suit like he’s protecting the president, or Falkner.”

  Chaos laughed roughly. “You can do the job differently without it being wrong.”

  “Isn’t that just what I said?” I asked with a grin.

  “How’s it actually going?”

  I nodded. “Fine. No sign of her trying to give me the slip–”

  “What about you giving her the slip?” Chaos butted in.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, pretending to be offended.

  “Tank told me you two had…chemistry.”

  “I’ll bet he did, the devil. You tell him that, if he wants this booty, he’s gotta put a ring on it first. I’m just not that kind of boy.”

  “The hell you’re not,” he muttered, and I heard the smile in his voice. “You and Miss Curry, Rollie…” he said when I didn’t offer any more information.

  “Strictly profesh, bossman. Swear on my life.”

  “And how long’s that going to last?”

  I couldn’t help grinning. “You going to reassign me, too?”

  “Not
if you get the job done. But, Rollie…”

  I nodded. “I know, mate. Job first. You know I know.”

  “I know. But I like to check. It’s not your name on the building.”

  “Well, no. My name’d make us sound like some kind of lawyers or something.”

  “You’d also have to be more mature.”

  I crossed myself, even knowing Chaos couldn’t see me. “Say it isn’t so.”

  “Nico would blow us all before letting your name on the building.”

  “Oh, Chaos, behave,” I teased.

  “I walked into that one.”

  “Rookie mistake. Hate to see it.”

  “You try running a company and see how well your brain works.”

  “You seemed fine before you had Bert to get home to.”

  “What are you saying about my relationship?”

  I shrugged. “Nah, I think it looks good on you. We could all stand to have more than just the job to keep us warm at night.”

  “Rollie, you ok–?”

  “I’d best go. Shit security spend all day on their phones. I’ll check in again in a couple of days.”

  “All right–”

  I hung up on him and shoved my phone in my pocket.

  We could all do with more than the job to keep us warm at night, I’d stand by that statement. I wasn’t ashamed of it. I’d tell anyone who wanted to know. But that didn’t mean I wanted to talk about it beyond the statement. It didn’t need explaining.

  What did need explaining was why I looked at Nora while I was thinking about it.

  “Because I’m doing my job,” I told myself. “Not because I’m open to the idea of my first serious relationship being with someone who lives on the other side of the world.”

  And I’d be damned if I didn’t believe it.

  “Oi, Ryder,” Nate called to me.

  “Yeah?” I asked as I went over.

  He held a t-shirt up towards me. “What size are you?”

  “Bit personal,” I joked and he laughed.

  I liked Nate. He reminded me a bit of Hawk when Hawk was being easily led along on my shenanigans. He had the humour. He had the timing. He knew how to diffuse or lighten a situation with a bit of good old comic relief. Actually, thinking about it, he was the me of Valjean.