Captivated

by Susan Scott Shelley

“You think?” She shook her head. “The story is that you'd strained your voice, so you needed to rest it. But you're better now."

  "Right."

  She pressed her lips together. Annoyance flared in her stomach. "I don't care what happens on the rest of this tour, but if you ever walk out of a show again, I won't even try to get the guys to keep you in the band.”

  "The guys talked about replacing me?"

  He deserved the truth. "We didn't know where you were, or if you'd left the band for good. Zander’s making some calls, in case we need someone to fill in for you for the remainder of the tour, or permanently."

  "Fuck that. I'm the singer of this band. I started it with him." The air snapped with his anger.

  Her own temper boiled over. She shoved her hair behind her ears. "Then act like the lead singer. Act like you give a damn about the band and your fans. I'm tired of batting cleanup for you guys."

  A smirk twisted his features. "Batting cleanup? Really?"

  Heat flushed into her cheeks. "It's a saying."

  "Since you're such a baseball buff now, you know the first thing that happens to a baseball team when things start falling apart? They fire the manager."

  Pain twisted in her chest. Her mouth dropped open and she gaped at him, rooted to her spot. “You want to fire me?”

  For a long moment, he stared at her, chest heaving. Then he rubbed his hand over his face and sighed. “It’s late. Just go home. Just forget I said anything.”

  “No. You said it. Let’s put it all out there.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Her foot tapped the tile floor in rapid-fire beats.

  With a deep expulsion of breath, he leaned against the wall and looked at the ceiling. “I didn’t mean it and I shouldn’t have said it. You’re the only one who’s always been there for us. You’re not just a manager, you’re a part of the family. I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

  She joined him. “What’s going on with you lately? You seem like you’re always in a bad mood. It’s not like you.”

  "I'm not happy."

  "I get that. You guys need to work things out better."

  "No, it's…" He shook his head. "Never mind."

  "What?"

  "Nothing."

  She rested her fingers on his forearm. “You were there for me when I needed a hand to hold at the charity event. Let me be here for you now. Talk to me.”

  He looked at her for a long moment. She'd have paid anything to be privy to the thoughts running in his head.

  The doorbell chimed, and the hint of vulnerability disappeared from his features. “Let me guess, the guys?”

  “They were on their way over here. But wait, you were going to say something.”

  He pushed away from the wall. "Don’t worry about it. I'm fine."

  She gripped her hands together and studied his stiff posture. He obviously wasn't fine. "All right, but if you change your mind, I'll be here.”

  Luke nodded, sober and stoic. “Thanks.” He pulled the door open.

  “What the hell?” Landry stalked by him, followed by Brendan. And, to her surprise, Zander and Jayne.

  Her brother whipped around and faced Luke. “We want an explanation.”

  “I shouldn’t have walked off.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and ended his statement with a shrug.

  “Damn straight.” Zander’s eyes glittered. Well and truly pissed, and ready for a fight.

  “We need you onstage, not in a fucking bar when we’re in the middle of a goddamn show.” Landry pushed up his jacket sleeves.

  Luke glared at him. “I already said I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up. Fire whoever you hired. No one’s taking my place.”

  “You think so, huh?” Zander edged closer.

  “Yeah. I do.” Luke squared off, rolling his shoulders.

  “Come on, guys.” Irisa jumped up and put herself in the middle of the standoff.

  “Stand down.” Brendan joined her. “If one of you messes up your hands, you might not be playing tomorrow night. Cool it. He apologized. Yeah, we’re all still ticked off at each other, but let’s not make this even worse.”

  “Come on, Zander. Let’s go.” Jayne’s clear voice cut through the grumblings. “Let’s just forget tonight happened.”

  “Pretty hard to forget.” But he backed away. When he reached the door, he turned back. “You better show up tomorrow night.”

  “I’ll be there.” Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “Count on it.” He faced Landry and Brendan and promised the same thing.

  Irisa hung back until the other guys had left. “I’m leaving. Drink some tea. All that yelling tonight isn’t good.”

  “I will.” Luke opened the door for her, then dropped his hand on her shoulder. “I really am sorry about what I said.”

  Squeezing his hand, she smiled. “Then make it up to me by putting on a good show tomorrow.”

  She drove home just after midnight. Her stomach churned. Emotions wouldn’t quiet. Her thoughts jumbled with images of the guys and words hurled in anger. Maybe a drink would help settle her. A peek in the pub confirmed Dom wasn’t there. If things were better, she could talk to him about the horrible night, and he’d get her to laugh or give her a massage. Liam’s words rang in her head. He doesn’t lie. He doesn’t cheat…with anything.

  She walked in, smiled at Steve behind the crowded bar, and asked for a table in the shadowed back of the room. A glass of wine to calm her nerves. And maybe it would help her think of a way to talk to Dom.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The text from Steve lit his phone screen. She’s here.

  Dom grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet, and jogged to his elevator. Tipping Steve to give him a heads-up when Irisa came into the bar had paid off. They needed to talk. He walked into the bar and caught the bartender’s gaze. Steve nodded, then inclined his head toward the left. Dom’s pulse ratcheted up a notch. As always, she was stunning. Irisa sat at a table near the back, cradling a glass of wine and gazing out the window. He sent her a chocolate martini to soften the surprise of him showing up at her table.

  Brows arching, she accepted the drink from the waitress and her gaze scanned the bar, finally landing on him. His heart hitched in his chest as he approached, beer in hand.

  Wide, wounded eyes, quickly shuttered, met his. “Thank you for the drink.”

  “Can I join you?” He gripped the back of the chair.

  Her chest rose and fell in steady movements. “Sure.”

  Thank God. He dropped into the seat. Her scent, so familiar and so near, overwhelmed him. He wanted to touch her, but hadn’t yet earned back that right. “I’d like a chance to explain.”

  She folded her hands in front of her. “All right.”

  Dom spread his hands wide, palms upturned on the table. “You said Oliver kept his real self hidden. Natalie masked hers pretty well, too. I hope you can trust me when I say nothing’s there. She’s not the kind of person I want to be around. Hell, until she showed up here two weeks ago, I hadn’t even seen her in a year.”

  Her hands tightened, turning white at the knuckles. “A year?”

  “A year. Not since we broke up. I swear.” He nodded and inched his hand closer to hers. “She pounced on me in the lobby, thrust the demo at me, and kept begging me to say yes. I only took it so she’d leave. The perfume and lipstick transferred when she hugged me. And no, I didn’t want her hugging me.”

  “I met her at the party. She’s…intense.”

  “She talked to you? I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was coming. Her name wasn’t on the list. She showed up as someone’s guest.”

  “We had an interesting conversation.”

  Shit. “I’ll bet. What did she say?”

  “Did you read the letter she included with the demo? The bit about how you offered to put us in touch with each other.”

  Annoyance filled him and anger heated his blood. “That’s a lie on her part.”

  “Last night, she said that
you got bent out of shape when she asked you to pass along the demo.”

  “That’s the truth. I did.”

  “So I have two conflicting stories.”

  The crack in Natalie’s lie would help to show the truth. He grasped her hand. “I’ve never lied to you. I’m telling you now, she showed up out of the blue, said she’d seen us photographed together, and threw the demo at me. That’s the truth.”

  She glanced at their joined hands. Her fingers trembled under his. “This is so hard for me. After what happened with Oliver, I can’t help wondering. He managed to plan this elaborate ruse…”

  “I’m not like him. I’ve never had to pretend to be interested or anything like that. Did you really think I could fake my responses, my body’s responses to you?”

  Her eyes widened and then her lips pressed together. Her gaze shifted to the table and her shoulders lifted in a shrug.

  Frustration forced him forward. Gripping her hand, he leaned over the table. “What can I do to show you I’m telling the truth?”

  “I told her I’m not passing along the demo.” Hazel eyes lifted to his, almost in challenge.

  “Good. I’ve already trashed it anyway. I trashed that shirt, too.”

  “Why the shirt?”

  “Because I didn’t want to keep anything around that would make you upset.” He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.

  Her eyebrows rose and her gaze darted to their hands. “I think I’m generous about a lot of things, but not when it comes to sharing someone I’m seeing.”

  “Me neither. It ticked me off to see Luke holding your hand yesterday. I’m a one-woman guy and I expect the same.”

  Her face crinkled for a moment. “I want to believe you.”

  “All I’m asking for is a chance.” He held tight, willing her to agree.

  At her nod, the tension in his chest eased. He leaned back in his chair and tried to relax, to act normal, all while his insides thrummed with excitement. He hadn’t lost her. “So, how have you been?”

  “All right. You?” So careful and polite, almost like they were strangers.

  “Better now. I’ve been waiting to talk to you for days.” He swallowed his beer, itching to touch her again.

  She sipped the martini. Her nearly full wine glass sat abandoned in the center of the table. They watched each other, quiet as conversations swirled around them. He’d give anything to ease the awkwardness.

  “How’s the band?”

  “Chaos as usual.” Her fingers twirled the stem of the glass. “Tonight’s show was pretty bad. Luke walked out minutes before it started. Fans threw trash and beer at the guys, and they were booed off the stage.”

  The strained quiet in her voice and the stiff way she held her shoulders told him more than mere words could convey. He let his hand cover hers again. Immediately, he felt better. Hopefully, she did too. “I’m sorry.”

  “I think it’s patched up for now. I just came from Luke’s house.” She seemed so small. He wanted to fold her into a hug and kiss away the strain. He settled for moving his chair closer to hers.

  “I’m sure they’ll be fine. They held it together to perform last night.” He caught her gaze again. “Speaking of last night, you looked beautiful.”

  A blush touched her cheeks and a smile touched her lips. “Thank you.”

  There. The connection hadn’t dimmed. Warmth fanned out from their joined hands. His world righted.

  She set her empty glass on the table. “I should head upstairs. I’m pretty tired.”

  “I’ll go up with you.” He released her hand and pushed away from the table, and then shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her again.

  He managed to keep his hands to himself until they reached her door. “I’m leaving on a road trip tomorrow, but I’ll be back on Friday. Can I see you Friday night?”

  “I think that will work.” She pulled her keys from her purse. “Well, good night.”

  He hated seeing that lingering vulnerability, the little hint showing that, however unintentionally, he’d hurt her deeply. He traced his fingertip down her cheek. Her eyes stayed open, stayed on his as he lowered his head. Slow, savoring, memorizing every detail of her face and hitch of her breath. His lips tingled in anticipation. Hers parted. Finally, they touched. Sweet satisfaction swelled.

  A murmur of approval hummed low in his throat. Irisa’s hands slipped to his chest. He reveled in her touch. Two weeks apart had felt like a lifetime. He shifted closer and delved deeper. She eased her lips away from his, but stayed close enough to share breath. Her gaze intent on his, as though searching for secrets.

  Letting go of her and returning to his lonely apartment wasn’t how he wanted the night to end. He skimmed her hair behind her ear. “I missed you.”

  Her hand caught his and held his palm to her cheek. “Maybe call me while you’re gone?”

  Hell yes. “I don’t want to say good night yet.”

  She paused for a minute, studying him. “Come in. I’ll make some coffee."

  Her place was a reflection of her—colorful, elegant, and put together. He followed her into the kitchen. One counter held a large bowl of chocolate candy and a realtor’s business card and house brochure. What the…? He picked it up. “What’s this?”

  “I made an offer on a house a few days ago.” She measured out decaf, added water, and turned on the coffeemaker.

  He tried to quell panic at the thought of her leaving. She hadn’t ever mentioned wanting to move. Had he brought her to do this? “Why now?”

  “Why not?” Her response made him smile. “I decided it was time, that’s all.”

  “So you weren’t doing it to get away from me?”

  “That would be a pretty drastic tactic. And no. I saw it and something clicked, like it was waiting for me.”

  Just like something had clicked when he’d first met her. But if he told her now, she might not believe him. He opened the brochure again. “Looks like it doesn’t need much work. Hey, it has your staircase.”

  “That was the key.” She grabbed bright blue mugs from a cabinet. “Anyway, I hope to hear something soon.”

  “It’s going to be weird not having you under me.” He set the papers aside and moved toward her. “I like having you under me.”

  “Dom.” Her hand rested on his chest before he could touch her the way he wanted.

  Too soon. All wasn’t forgotten. But was he paying for his own mistake, or the deceptions of her previous relationships? “I know I messed up with you. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not that. I want to apologize. I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to hit you that day. I feel so bad about what happened with your black eye, and you losing out on those games with your team.”

  The words warmed him. He covered her hand with his. Holding her to his chest. Holding her to his heart. “I survived.”

  “I didn’t realize you’d missed out on other games too, thanks to the bar fight. I’m sorry my band was a magnet for chaos. You got in trouble because you were with us, when you should’ve been rewarded for easing the tension. You must’ve been pretty angry with me.”

  “Not at you. At the situation. But that’s behind us. It’s okay.” He didn’t want to talk about the past.

  She rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then turned away to deal with the coffee. Cup in hand, she led him to the living room and settled on a white couch strewn with jewel-toned pillows.

  Dom sat beside her, took the chance, and linked their fingers together. He didn’t try to go any further. She’d set the pace when she’d kissed him at her door and in the kitchen. Go slow. She’d need it until he’d earned her trust, and he needed it, so he’d have the chance to savor having her back in his life.

  He’d asked for a chance. She’d granted his request. Now he just had to show her how much that meant to him.

  He’d never been more ready to return from a road trip in his life. Dom rushed in the apartment building, eager to s
ee Irisa. He’d thought about sending her flowers while he was away, but with her, there was only one choice—chocolate. He’d sent her texts at random hours and called her every night. Showing he cared was all that mattered.

  Wanting to see her took precedence over going home and unpacking. He went straight to her apartment. He hadn’t called first. Hadn’t thought to do it. She better be home.

  The clicking of locks, the twist of the door handle, and then finally, the door swung open. And Zander stood in the frame. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”

  Disappointment sagged through him, but Dom smiled. “Hi.”

  Rather than allowing him to enter, Zander motioned for him to step further into the hall. He closed the door at their backs. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “All right.” Dom shifted his bag on his shoulder. After the way the band had closed ranks around Irisa, he had no doubt they all knew about Natalie and the demo and the t-shirt. If Zander wanted to hit him for hurting his sister, he’d take the punch.

  “My sister’s a private person, but she shares things with me. I think I have a fair idea of what really happened with your ex, and more importantly, I think my sister does, too. But if you make her cry again, I’ll be really tempted to smash my guitar over your head.”

  He hated hearing he’d made her cry. “I never wanted to hurt your sister. I promise I’ll do my best to make her happy.”

  Zander nodded. “Then we’re cool. Come on in. Everyone’s in the dining room.”

  Dom followed him inside and set his travel bag on the floor. Wait… “What do you mean, everyone?”

  “Zander? Who was at the door?” Irisa turned the corner and stopped in her tracks. Her face lit up in a smile. “Hey you. I didn’t think you were getting back until later tonight.”

  “Hi.” Four damn days since he’d touched her. Too damn long. Talking on the phone, texting, and gifts were pale substitutes for holding her in his arms. He crossed the room and slid his arms around her. Her curves molded into him. It was good to be home.

  She kissed him, too light and quick for his preference, and then slipped from his embrace. Color touched her cheeks. “Listen, I should tell you—”