by Lee, Nadia
This was it. My Fair Molly was the best book I’d written, and had the most extensive publicity and promotion campaigns to push it out into the world. If it failed, I didn’t know what I’d do.
Probably throw up. Then cry. Then consider fleeing the country so I could avoid seeing the ads.
My gaze landed on the lavender flowers Killian had brought yesterday. The purple bouquet smelled amazing. He said I needed to relax, and since it wasn’t easy with so much riding on this book, he decided to bring me something to soothe my nerves.
He was just too damned thoughtful, like he knew exactly what I needed before I even said it. And that made me more optimistic about the decision to go with him to Dallas.
“How come you know how I’m feeling?” I’d asked him.
“Because I feel the same way when we have a new song or album coming out.”
I’d never understood what “my heart melted” meant until then. My exes hadn’t understood. They’d considered me neurotic and paranoid. But not Killian. If
I were writing a perfect boyfriend for myself, Killian would be it.
You have it bad.
Yeah, I did. It was almost enough to make me believe in true love, because true love wasn’t about grand gestures, but everyday things someone did for the person they loved.
My phone pinged.
–Skye: Don’t forget to send me your cover, blurb and links for My Fair Molly. I’m going to post them in my reader group and feature the book in my newsletter.
–Lucy: Ditto.
I smiled with gratitude and affection. Although Skye, Lucy and I didn’t write the exact same type of romance, some of our readers overlapped. And asking them to help me promote the book had been on my to-do list.
–Me: Thank you! I’m just so nervous.
–Skye: Prerelease jitters. You’ll kill it.
–Lucy: Seriously. I used to puke before every soccer match in high school, but I did fine.
That was true. She’d received an athletic scholarship to college. And they both understood what it was like to launch a book themselves, although they’d never had the kind of stakes that I did with this one.
–Skye: Don’t forget to eat and sleep.
–Lucy: Right. We don’t need you nearly passing out again from a lack of sleep like you did with the last release. We have a signing to attend.
Right! I’d almost forgotten in my pre-launch frenzy. We were all going to the signing in San Francisco this weekend. Which would be amazing, since I hadn’t seen Skye and Lucy in months. There was something so exciting and energizing about spending time with like-minded friends who understood everything about the author world. And I loved meeting fans who liked my work enough to take the time to come see me. I knew there were people reading my stuff, but seeing them in person made it feel all so much realer. And when they told me how much my work made them laugh or brightened their day, it made me realize once again why I’d chosen to be a writer—to allow people to escape into a book world I’d created and feel happy.
–Lucy: Blue’s coming. It’s going to be so much fun.
–Skye: So is Zack! The hubs can hang out and amuse each other, while we sign, sign, sign.
I’d known Skye was bringing her husband because her parents-in-law wanted to take the kids for the weekend. But I didn’t realize Lucy was going to bring hers.
Should I ask Killian if he wanted to go? He could see photos of authors and their significant others at the signing, and might feel excluded if I didn’t even ask. But at the same time, I didn’t want to make it seem as though he had to now that I knew how much he disliked flying. It was one of those situations that required a delicate touch.
Then there was the matter of him being a rock star. Unlike other husbands, people would recognize him. Which would then cause a stir and take some of the spotlight away from the authors who showed up. And that would be unfair to them. I didn’t want to do that to my fellow writers.
Maybe there was no point in even bringing it up when I couldn’t really have him come with me anyway. Shit. I should just tell him I was going to San Francisco for a signing and leave it at that.
–Lucy: Blue has a few friends in the Bay Area, so we’re going to spend some time with them, too. Emily, you can join us. Some of them are single.
Lucy the matchmaker. She believed everyone had a soul mate out there, just waiting to be discovered. Unlike me, who thought the whole soul mate thing was an overrated fantasy. But then… Killian shared the same belief as Lucy. He’d told me he believed in everlasting love, like what his parents had shared.
–Skye: Ooh. Are they cute?
–Lucy: Unless the pictures are photoshopped, some of them are totally cute. Blue said they’re great dancers too. You know dancers have good moves in bed. I can vouch for that from experience.
I thought of Killian—the way he’d shone on stage and electrified the crowd. The way he kissed me and set me on fire that night and every night since. My heart throbbed at the memory, my breathing growing slightly shallow. No man had mesmerized me the way he did, and I doubted anybody would again.
I should let my friends know I was unavailable before Lucy wasted energy trying to set me up with someone. And withhold as much info as possible about Killian.
–Me: No, thanks. I’m seeing someone now.
–Lucy: WHAT?
–Skye: Since when? How come you never told us?
–Me: It’s sort of recent. And I’ve been busy.
That was a terrible partial lie. I just hadn’t been able to figure out how to say I was dating, because then they’d want to know every detail, and I knew I couldn’t tell them everything, especially when Killian had made it clear he wanted his privacy. But Lucy and Skye were persistent—you couldn’t make it in the writing business if you weren’t—and I didn’t want to deal with an inquisition. I didn’t think they’d sell the info to some trashy tabloid, but they might let something slip. And Skye’s daughter was totally into music, so she would recognize Killian for sure.
–Skye: You are NEVER too busy to talk about a new man in your life!
–Lucy: Details!
–Skye: Hold on. I’m calling. This requires a real convo, not just texting. Gimme a sec.
Torn between amusement and a pinch of dread, I waited. Skye always claimed she and technology didn’t get along. But when she needed to gossip, suddenly she became a tech magician.
And there it was. A three-way video call from her. Since her kids were in school right at the moment, she was doing it all on her own.
Skye’s wide brown eyes filled the screen. “Okay, you have to tell us everything. I can’t believe you found the time to write, edit, plan a release and find a man, all at the same time!”
Lucy nodded, tendrils escaping her messy topknot. “Seriously.”
“It’s my neighbor,” I said, trying not to give too much information.
“The one who drummed?” Skye said.
“And borrowed your hot water?” Lucy asked.
“I guess he didn’t poison you…”
“Yes, yes, yes,” I said. “Yes to everything.”
“Are we going to meet him soon? Like…in the next week?” Skye asked.
“I…doubt it.”
Lucy’s face fell. “He couldn’t take time off?”
“It’s not about taking time off. He doesn’t like flying. And it’s a long way to San Francisco.”
“That’s true, but…” Skye sighed. “That’s too bad.”
“Is it not serious enough that he wants to ignore his flying phobia to support you in San Francisco?” Lucy asked.
Crap. “No, it isn’t like that. We’re pretty serious. I’m planning to go to Dallas to be with him.”
“For real?” Skye said, her jaw slack.
“About ninety-nine percent certain.” I reserved one percent just in case.
Skye and Lucy both formed perfect Os with their mouths.
Skye laughed first. “Oh my God! You’re in love!”
“Am not,” I said quickly, even as my belly started cartwheeling inside me. Love sounded way too serious and much, much too soon. “It’s just a trial. I’m not selling my place in Virginia.”
“Yeah, but you’re thinking about moving to another state for him!” Lucy said, her eyes bright. “I think it’s amazing. Like a romance novel. Instalove with an irritating but super-hot next-door neighbor.”
“And it’s perfect because you don’t have to give up your job or anything. The best happy ending,” Skye added.
“This is real life, not a book. It’s a lot more complicated,” I said, because it had to be more complicated. Otherwise nobody would be cheating on their spouse or getting divorced or crying their heart out over a broken relationship.
“How complicated can it be? He sounds like a decent guy,” Skye said.
“What do you mean, ‘sounds like’? I haven’t told you anything about him.”
“He cooks.” In her mind, any guy who cooked for a woman was a great catch.
“Well…yeah. He does cook. He also reads my books,” I said.
“Does he enjoy them?” Lucy asked.
“I think so.”
“Total winner! Is he better than Scott in bed?” Skye demanded.
“Scott who?” I didn’t have any ex named Scott. Neither did Skye or Lucy as far as I knew.
“Your hero from That Hot Night. His book has the best sex you’ve ever written,” she said. “And the hero was hung like a stallion, with endless stamina.”
Lucy nodded. “That’s true. In one romance group I’m in, he got voted ‘hero I’d most want to bone’ last year.”
I knew which one she was talking about. I’d been so flattered when the group admin emailed me a banner to put on my social media and website. And I put it up proudly.
“So. Better or worse?” Skye of the one-track mind asked.
“Better,” I said immediately. Scott was my imagination. Killian was not. And he was incredibly enthusiastic in bed. With great technique and raw power. And endurance.
Skye and Lucy let out loud squeals.
Lucy fanned herself. “You have to bring him to the signing!”
“Totally! I’ll pay for his airfare! And enough Xanax to chill him out!”
“A man who can give you better-than-Scott sex is totally worth going to Dallas for,” Lucy said. “He might even give you better-than-Scott romance, too!”
I laughed softly. I’d had similar thoughts about Killian. Optimism began to bloom.
I could totally give the relationship a few months. And if it was still good, then… Well, then it’d be love.
The door opened.
“I’m home!” Killian said brightly.
I perked up, but the need to end the call surged. I didn’t want Skye or Lucy to catch Killian in the background accidentally. Or recognize his voice. “Gotta go,” I said. “Dinner’s here.”
“Isn’t it a little early?” Skye said.
“Skipped lunch. See ya!”
“Don’t skip! Eat. Enjoy!” Lucy said.
“Happy early release day!” Skye said.
We hung up. Killian dropped something off in the kitchen, then came to the table with a cheese pizza and a bottle of Riesling. “Still in that shirt?”
He looked at the loose Axelrod shirt I’d filched from his closet a couple of days earlier. It was so large that I wore it like a mini dress.
“Didn’t get a chance to change,” I said with a shrug. Then I gave him a long, assessing look. “Want me to get out of it?”
“Yeah, totally. We shouldn’t wear clothes at home. Can we make that our relationship rule, like what the hero and heroine did in The Dating Rules?”
I laughed at his hopeful expression. Of course he’d remember that from the book and bring it up at the first opportunity. But it was partially my fault for not phrasing things correctly. My brain was foggy with the lack of sleep and food, but I was too wired to sleep. “I meant do you want me to put something else on?”
“Of course not. If I can’t have you naked, I’d rather have you in my shirt. Gets me super excited, like you’re all mine.”
Warm, tingling sensations moved through me and made me smile.
He kissed me. “Ready to rock and roll tomorrow?”
I nodded, then stretched my neck to relieve the tension. “Yeah. I checked off everything on my list.”
“Awesome.” He grinned. “And I brought us an early dinner, since you worked through lunch.” He frowned. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“I just lost track of time, Mom.”
“Hey, somebody’s gotta take care of you. Otherwise you’d eat nothing but crackers all day long.”
No point arguing that. Animal crackers and Hop Hop Hooray had sustained me last time I had a book out. Actually, they generally kept me going most of the time. But not for this book, because Killian was determined to make me eat like a responsible adult.
He set everything on the table, including two wine glasses, then sat down and opened the box. I stared at the steaming pizza. My brain said I needed the fuel, but my stomach said no. Not because I didn’t like pizza—I was a well-adjusted, normal human being—but because my belly felt tight and slightly acidic from not having eaten since breakfast.
“Come on,” he said, handing me a slice on a paper plate.
I took it, but instead of biting into it, I sipped some of the crisp wine. Killian took a piece and finished it in five big bites. I finally started nibbling on mine.
“Not in the mood for pizza?” he asked.
“No, it’s fine. I’m just… My stomach feels a little weird.”
“You need something?”
I shook my head. “It’s just stress. I shouldn’t be feeling it. I checked my to-do list three times. I’ve already scheduled everything, so my newsletters and social media updates should go out automatically over the next seven days.”
He nodded and squeezed my hand warmly. “There you go. So now it’s time to sit back and give yourself a break.”
I managed to chew and swallow a few more mouthfuls for his benefit, then had more wine, although I knew alcohol wouldn’t help much. It never did.
He watched me, his eyes dark with concern. Then, wiping his hands on a napkin, he got up and moved behind me. He slowly rubbed my neck and shoulders. I sighed as his fingers dug into my muscles, loosening kinks that were now a couple of days old.
“That feels really good,” I said after a moment.
“You’re really tense.”
“I’m always like this. Well, this time more so.”
“You have a lot riding on this one. I heard about the bet from your mother.”
“She told you?”
“Yeah.”
I sighed, wishing Mom hadn’t said anything. The wager was mortifying. Hell, the entire drama with my dad was humiliating. It was awful enough that Killian knew the situation with my dad’s affairs, but now he had to know what a bad father Dad was, too?
“He’s not going to win, Emily. Karma’s going to come bite him in the ass sooner or later.”
“I hope it’s sooner, for my sake,” I grumbled.
A moment of hesitation. “Is there anything I can do to help? I could mention it on my profile or something.”
I turned around, surprised at the offer. He’d made it clear he hated people using him, and honestly, the idea of asking him to promote my book on his social media accounts had never crossed my mind.
“No, thank you.” I added a smile to let him know I appreciated the offer. “You’re already doing enough to help. Just keep rubbing.”
Killian laughed and continued to massage me, and I closed my eyes to enjoy it. But my mind wouldn’t relax. Now the stakes felt bigger, especially with Killian knowing about the bet. Losing with him watching would be extra humiliating. Should I re-check the images Mom and I had selected for the promotion? What if I rewrote the newsletter?
“You’re the only person I know who can tense up more whi
le getting a massage,” Killian said.
“Sorry. I’m just…distracted.” I patted his arm, feeling like a failure for not responding to the nice rub like a regular human being. Just ask anybody what they’d do if a hot rock star brought home an early dinner and rubbed their back. It wouldn’t be “think about marketing.”
A determined gleam lit his gaze as he looked into my eyes. “You’re such a challenge at times.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Nope. Makes me like you more.”
He turned the chair around and kissed me, wrapping his hand around my neck. I kissed him back, our mouths fusing, our tongues stroking each other. He tasted like wine and lust. My blood rushed through my head, slowly drowning out the shouldn’t you try to do… voice screaming to be heard. The man knew exactly how I liked to have my mouth ravished, how I wanted to be touched.
His other hand traveled lower…cupping a breast through the shirt. He groaned. “I love it when you work braless.”
I let out a breathless laugh. “It’s cumbersome when I’m just home alone.”
“When you’re alone?” he murmured. “You know how much it gets in my way?”
He rubbed his thumb over the hard tip. Sparks of excitement shot through me, heating me inside out. He continued to tease my nipple, then bent to nip it, the shirt blunting the sharp edge of his teeth.
God. I didn’t want to feel him through the cloth. I wanted his mouth on my bare skin. I pulled the shirt up greedily, and he laughed, the sound wicked and satisfied. He closed his mouth around my nipple, directly this time. I arched my back, gripping the edge of the seat as he sucked, sending streaks of white-hot pleasure through me.
He moved to the other breast. I watched him lick my other nipple while he pulled my hips until I was perched on the edge of the chair, his shoulders between my spread thighs.
He touched me through my thong, and I hissed out a breath. I was already so wet there. My clit was pulsing with need. Could he feel it?
He pulled the thong aside, his mouth still on my breast, then pushed two fingers inside. I arched into him, moaning and wanting more. He didn’t hesitate as he lowered his face between my legs.