by Eden Summers
“For now.” He had plans for later. Many plans.
There was a grumble, then the television cut completely.
Leah remained against him, her fingernail tracing intricate lines over his chest as the others prepared for bed. Toilets flushed, doors slammed, curtains were slung back and forth. Then the lights were off. The hum of the engine the only sound apart from the whisper of her breath.
“Good night.” She lifted her chin and grazed tempting lips against his.
“Night, gorgeous.”
She rolled over, her body spooning into his, chest to back, ass to crotch, thigh to thigh. He could feel her everywhere, against his skin, even under it.
His love for her was pulsing through his chest, affecting every breath. He leaned his forehead against her shoulder trying to deny how destroyed he would be if he ever lost her. There was no way back from here. No peace without her. No hope if she wasn’t in his arms.
There was only her. Only them.
And he was going to make sure it stayed that way.
Chapter Eighteen
Leah was the first awake in the morning. Ryan was breathing heavy beside her, his arm wrapped around her back, her face nestled against his chest. He had her cocooned in his embrace, kept safe and warm from the reality on the other side of the curtain.
They hadn’t slept much. Not between the silent lovemaking and whispered conversations as they flittered in and out of consciousness. She was finally done with fighting. This was her life now. With him. All they had to do was make it work.
All in good time.
She inched forward, holding her breath in an effort not to wake him.
“Where are you going?” he mumbled against her shoulder.
She smiled, loving every aspect of waking up beside him—his heat, his security, his graveled tone. “Coffee.”
He clutched tighter, making her chuckle.
“I’ll only be gone for ten minutes. I promise.”
“Not a minute longer.” His voice was rough from sleep, dark and devilish.
She eased his hand from her waist, kissed his knuckles, and slipped under the screen. After a quick trip to the storage cupboard to retrieve her clothes and cell, she changed and freshened up in the bathroom. She’d been in there for five minutes max. but the sweet sound of Ryan’s slumber greeted her when she returned to the aisle.
She inched the curtain across and stared at him. Her man. Her love. There was no looking back now. No need or desire. There was only determination to move forward. To secure her boss’s approval, kick Julie from their lives, and slink away from the Slicker publicity.
The first hurdle was her boss, and without a plan in place, it would come down to good ol’ fashioned pleading. All she could bank on was her feminine wiles and a track history of bringing successful men to heel. She wouldn’t be able to admit they were already together. Those details would only work harshly against her. But if she acted as though she was seeking approval before making a move, maybe her boss would take pity on her.
She released the bunk cover and exited the curtained sleeping area to drink in the sight of a barely waking Kansas City.
An orange glow crept along buildings, turning night into day. Darkness into sunshine. She gave Pat a finger-wave through the rearview mirror as she approached and he flicked out his earphones with a smile.
“Mornin’.”
“Morning.” She sank onto the corner of the booth seat, placed her cell on the table, and hunched toward him to take in the view.
“How long until we’re at the stadium?”
“Twenty minutes if the traffic is good. But we’ll be in the secure parking area if you want to catch a few more hours sleep.”
“I’m good.” The confinement of the bunk wasn’t conducive for slumber. Neither was the erection that had nuzzled against her ass on and off all night. “Want a coffee?”
“Nah. I stopped a few hours ago and bought some gas station sludge. It’ll keep me going for a while.”
“Poor thing. Let me know if you need anything. I’m going to get some work done while there’s peace and quiet.”
“No problem.” He nudged his earphones back in place and focused on the traffic as she made her way to the compact kitchen to switch on the drip machine. While she waited for liquid goodness, she checked social media, scanning the usual blogs and headlines to make sure the Reckless world was stable. Apart from an increase in questions regarding Mason’s sexuality, everything was quiet on the band-front. Slicker were still a major topic of discussion, with Ryan’s involvement highlighting most tweets and posts.
Once her coffee was ready, she slid into the booth and started brainstorming. Ryan was doing well to keep his relationship in the spotlight, but there needed to be more. More hype, more publicity, more sales. She no longer wanted to sit on the sidelines and watch him manipulate the media. She needed to take charge. To grab the promo stunt by the horns sooner rather than later to get the rabid Grander monkey off their back.
Ideas came to her in quick succession and she ended up having to scavenge through cupboards for a notebook because her typing fingers couldn’t keep up. Page after page of garbled notes were scribbled. All they needed was a chart topper. One measly chart which would’ve been a cinch for Reckless and would end up being a miracle for the lesser-known Slicker.
She was preparing to make a second coffee when the bus slowed and turned into the stadium entrance.
“It looks like security are already here and waiting.” Pat pulled the bus to a stop and cut the ignition. “I’m going to stretch my legs and have a smoke. You good?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll close the door once I’m out, so y’all can have some privacy and catch some more sleep.” He descended the stairs, the doors closing seconds later.
Someone groaned from the bunks, followed by the rustle of sheets, then silence. The guys wouldn’t wake for hours, giving her more time to concoct one of the many necessary plans. And with the planning came excitement. She was pumped to speak to her boss. Figuring out a way to gain her wildest dreams was making her giddy… Or maybe that was the caffeine.
Either way, she was optimistic for a future with Ryan. The pleasure in her chest couldn’t be denied. If she could make this work, she’d have everything she’d ever wanted—the career, the future, the love.
But…
If…
How…
When…
She shook away the confronting questions and took another gulp of coffee. Her cell began to move, the vibrations signaling an incoming call. Bruce. She wondered if her thoughts had been loud enough to wake her boss.
“Hey,” she whispered. “You’ve hit the grindstone early.”
“Not by choice.”
“And why is that?”
“I just got off the phone from some no-name blogger who warned me of a podcast she uploaded last night. Apparently, it’s starting to gain traction and local radio stations are airing snippets in their gossip news—”
“Hold up. What blogger? What snippets? I’ve already scanned social media this morning and nothing triggered my radar.”
Another ring tone sounded from the bunks, followed by the clearing of a throat and Ryan’s gravelly voice.
“I can’t remember the name but I’ve got the details in an email along with a link to the podcast. She wants you to contact her about an opportunity to respond to the claims.”
When the third ringtone sounded she stood, her stomach flipping at the sudden influx of communication. One call at this hour was understandable. Two was a coincidence. But three signaled trouble.
Big trouble.
“What claims?”
“I haven’t listened to the interview yet. I wanted to contact you first, but she said there’s some controversial stuff in there about Reckless.”
“Who did the blogger interview?” Felicity better not have opened her damn mouth. Or Hannah. Fuck, if it was Scott she’d kill him.
“It’s the disgruntled wife of
your guitarist. Apparently, she’s flinging accusations at her husband, the band, and you.”
Fuck.
“Can you forward me the information?”
“I did, two seconds before I connected the call. And if this blogger is to be trusted, the information would’ve been shared minutes ago, after the last news update.”
Leah closed her eyes. Judging by the phone calls taking over the bus, the manipulator hadn’t lied.
“After all these years in my employment, I hate having to ask you this, but…” He paused and she knew exactly what would come next, the disappointment, the questioning. “Have you crossed a line? Is there something I should be worried about?”
Images from last night flooded her. Ryan’s cock in her mouth, his tongue on her breast, his fingers in her pussy. “I don’t know why Julie would involve me, but she’s been stalling with the divorce. It could be some sort of power play.”
“Band drama is inevitable, Leah. We both know that. I do, however, get antsy when my managers hit headlines. It’s not the look I want for my company.”
“Give me half an hour to see what we’re up against—”
“I will. But if this is trouble, you need to shut it down. You’re supposed to blend into the shadows. And if you can’t do that, maybe it’s time to take a vacation. Recharge and let someone else take over for a bit.”
“You don’t even know what she’s said.”
“No, I only know you took your first emergency leave a few months back because of something Ryan did.”
A kiss. That kiss.
“Bruce, I disclosed all the information about that situation with you. You know I wasn’t to blame. You trusted my judgment and the promise it would never happen again.” Only it had, and now her argument was killing any chance she had to renegotiate her contract. “I took a break when I needed it back then. You need to continue to trust that I know what I’m doing.” Even when she didn’t trust herself.
“I trust you. I just don’t like hearing about more drama from your camp. It’s not like you to drop one ball, let alone two.”
“I haven’t dropped anything,” she grated. “Let see what the mess is and I’ll call you back.”
She waited for his muttered agreement before she disconnected the call and rushed to her bag to retrieve her earphones. Ryan was still talking. Mason, too. Both conversations heated and angry.
As she returned to the booth, she navigated to her emails, found the link, and turned up the volume.
“Welcome listeners. Tonight we have Julie Bennett joining us from the comfort of her Manhattan apartment. Good evening, Julie.”
Leah scanned forward, bypassing the introductions as she slumped in her seat.
“—been married to Ryan for how long now?” the announcer asked.
“We started dating in school and married a few years after graduation. I was with him before Reckless was born and stayed with him throughout the trials and scandals.”
“But Ryan’s the charmer of the group, right? How many trials and scandals could there have been?”
Leah held her breath. Held it tight until her chest hammered with impending collapse.
“None that were publicized. But there were many behind the scenes. I was constantly fighting with him over his relationship with his band manager. That woman has been trying to sink her claws into Ryan for years.”
The hostaged breath escaped, all of it, every last ounce to leave her completely hollow.
“You’re talking about Leah Gorman?”
“Yes. She was a plague on our marriage and I suspect she’ll continue to do the same for Ryan moving forward.”
Leah cradled her head in her hand as the diatribe filtered into her ears. So much for begging Bruce for a change in her contract. So much for tying loose ends in an effort to gain peace with Ryan. So much for turning daydreams into reality. His ex had just placed months, if not years between Leah and a happy resolution with the man she loved.
“Leah is a narcissistic, power-hungry viper who will stop at nothing to get what she wants... I’m sure she tried to seduce my husband… She’s a manipulator… She’s the reason for our divorce…”
The words became garbled, each syllable intertwining with the next to increase the static in her head. She paused the podcast, removed the earphones and slid the cell away to wade through the mental carnage.
“You heard?” Ryan’s voice carried from her side.
She nodded.
“Is it bad?”
She continued to nod as she stared at the table. In comparison, it didn’t hold the weight of Blake’s drug addiction scandal or Mason’s leaked sex tape. It was a bitter attack. A defensive, soon-to-be ex-wife lashing out. But this time it was personal. The assault was aimed at Leah’s career. Her future. Her happiness. And Julie had successfully struck gold.
“What did she say?” Ryan crouched beside her, his hands resting on her thigh.
The touch shot through her, the sensation painful in its pleasure. “The day you were handed the divorce papers, you said I was the cause of your failed marriage.” She gave a derisive laugh. “I thought you were attacking me in an attempt to release your anger. But you weren’t, were you? I did ruin your marriage. I’m the reason the two of you were never happy.”
“She said that?”
“Yes, she did.” Leah met his gaze, those wide eyes staring back at her. “On a popular podcast that is now being distributed to god knows how many radio stations.”
“Fucking hell.”
“Don’t ignore the question, Ryan.” She turned to him and tried to read his expression. What was done, was done. There was still no looking back. But she needed to know if she’d been kidding herself about her superior level of professionalism. Had her feelings been obvious? Had she wordlessly convinced him to sabotage his marriage? “Am I really the reason Julie asked for a divorce?”
“Yes.” His unreserved response stabbed through her stomach as the hand on her thigh tightened. “I fell out of love with her because I was in love with you. Because I wanted to be with you. Because I couldn’t stop imagining how great we’d be together. So yes, you are the reason for the divorce, and I’m not going to feel guilty, because she fell out of love with me years before I gave up on the marriage.”
“But we haven’t been close since Australia. We’ve barely been friends.”
He nodded. “And she knew that. She also knew being at odds with you had changed my mood more than any argument with her ever had.”
A brief flicker of adoration sparked and was soon smothered by shame. There was no denying she’d crossed a line. A big, fat line her boss wouldn’t approve of. But the threat to her career wasn’t what hurt the most. It was the amassing destruction she’d caused.
Ryan’s divorce was her fault. Even though she’d tried to hide her feelings, she’d cost him his marriage.
“Don’t feel guilty, Leah.” His eyes turned lethal. “I welcome the divorce. I don’t want to be with her.”
“You didn’t always feel that way. I was there when the document was handed over. I witnessed the devastation on your face.”
“You witnessed my shock at being blindsided. And my anger at being a failure. You didn’t witness heartache over her leaving me. We stopped being in love a long time ago. We’d merely been going through the motions.”
“Then why did you stay?” His jaw flexed, his nostrils flared, and the unmistakable loosening of his palm on her thigh told her he was contemplating a lie. “Tell me the truth.”
“I will.” He nodded. Cringed. “I wanted a family. I wanted to be a father. And she kept promising we’d make a start. It wasn’t like I could be with you. And no other woman has ever tempted me. So I stuck around in the hopes a baby might revive the marriage.”
“You would’ve stayed with her if it meant having children?”
His lips parted, the brutal words poised to devastate her when Mason pulled the curtain back from the bunk area and strode forward.
“I just got off the phone to Sid.” His hair was tangled, his face creased from sleep. “She said we have another nightmare on our hands.”
“Yeah.” Ryan stood, forgetting their interrupted conversation. “How did she find out?”
“She heard something on the radio and wanted to give me a heads up.”
“Who told you?” Leah stared at Ryan.
“My lawyer. That guy is making a mint because of Julie’s bullshit.”
Silence descended, the weight of indecision settling between them.
“You won’t let this affect what you’ve got going on, will you?” Mason eyed her. “The two of you are still good, right?”
She sucked in a breath, held it, and became strengthened by her impending response. “Ye—”
“Julie’s not going to bring us down.” Ryan tugged her to her feet. “I won’t let it happen.”
His determination starved her shame and she went willingly into his arms. “It’s going to make things harder, though. We’ll need to lay low. I can’t take any more trips on your bus. There’ll be no more hiding in plain sight.”
“Changing your routine will only make you look guilty.” Mason rested a hand against the back of the booth seat. “I’m not saying you should shake the bus walls every night, because frankly, that shit was traumatizing, but if you keep your distance, there’s going to be more questions to answer.”
“I prefer questions to being caught red-handed and losing my job.”
“Hey.” Ryan got in her face, gripping her upper arms. “Nobody is losing their job. I promise you.”
Why did she believe him? There was no justification. No reasoning. But yet she became reassured by his words. Strengthened.
“We’ll pull through.”
She stared into those eyes, drowning in their warmth. Her pessimistic thoughts wanted to rebel, it was her heart that clung to his promise.
“We’ve got this.” He kissed her forehead. “Trust me.”
She nodded and sank against him, breathing in his scent. “I need to call Bruce back.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I’ll tell him the truth—Julie has been hassling your lawyers for weeks, trying to get a rise out of you. It wasn’t like we weren’t expecting the drama. We just didn’t know the shape it would come in.”