Eli looks up into his dad’s face, eyes wide. “Daddy sing?”
Danny cracks a grin. “Something like that.”
“Daddy sing!”
With a chuckle, Danny starts to set Eli down, but Eli curls his feet up and clings to his dad. “No! Daddy sing now!”
“Eli,” I interject. “We ask nicely for things, remember.”
“Pweeease.”
With a long-suffering sigh, Danny straightens back up, Eli still in his arms. “How can I say no to that?”
Eli gets a little smile on his face like he already knows how cute he is and how to make the best use of it. But really, I don’t think I could say no to that sweet face either.
Danny sings through a quick version of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,” his low voice tingling through me. If I didn’t already have a crush on him, I would after hearing him sing. I know Marcus is the lead singer and the other guys only sing backup vocals, but Danny could easily carry the band if anything ever happened to Marcus. Or if he decided to go solo.
Once he finishes the song, Eli only protests a little when Danny sets him down, placing another kiss on Eli’s head before nodding to me and leaving the room.
When the guys are on the stage, Blaire comes and gets me, and I carry Eli out, following Blaire to the spot in the wings where we’re allowed to stand and watch. Rather than trying to squirm out of my arms and run on stage like I feared, Eli watches entranced. He wears the ear protection without protest—he got a kick out of the sound muffling when we were in the dressing room. It’s so loud that I’m sure he can hear the music just fine through it. I know I can through mine. The ear protection makes the concert a comfortable volume.
And I’m just as entranced as Eli once I’m able to pay attention, certain that Eli won’t try to get away.
They own the stage. Working the crowd, bringing them along for the ride like only true performers can. The lights flicker and flash, sparks shoot up from the edge of the stage at high points in the singles I recognize. Marcus strips off his shirt, turning his back to the crowd to make a face at Kendra who’s standing next to me. But when he turns back around he’s one hundred percent back in character as the sexy rockstar.
My eyes wander to Danny where he moves in time to the music as he plays the guitar, his hair flopping over his forehead, his tattooed forearms glistening under the hot stage lights. What would it be like if the tour manager got his way and all the guys played shirtless?
My breath catches in my chest as I imagine a shirtless Danny.
Because let’s face it—fighting my attraction to him is as useless as trying to hold back the tides. I can drool and fantasize all alone. He never has to know. It’s not like I’d ever act on it and jeopardize my job …
Eli squirming in my arms drags my attention away from my fantasies of a shirtless Danny and what he’d look like with just those low-slung jeans and tattoos covering his body.
I bounce Eli up on my hip and glance at him as he yawns and tries to lay his head on my shoulder. For the first time since we’ve been out here, he starts pulling at his ear protection, because it’s getting in his way.
And that’s my cue. I grip Kendra’s arm to get her attention and give her a smile before nodding my head toward the dressing rooms. She gives me a thumbs up and a wave.
Carefully, I pick my way through the cords and cables that stretch across the floor behind the stage and head back to the dressing room to get the diaper bag and my phone. Danny made me program in the number of the car service the band is using here so I can get a ride back to the hotel for Eli and me when we’re ready to go. Once inside the dressing room, I pull Eli’s ear muffs off and settle him against me on the couch, where he yawns again and rubs his eyes.
About fifteen minutes later, I get an alert on my phone that the car is waiting outside, and within an hour of leaving the stage, we’re back at the hotel, where I let myself into Danny and Eli’s suite. “Do you want a snack before bed, Eli?”
He yawns again and shakes his head. “No snack. Story.”
“Alright, let’s get PJs on and brush your teeth, then we’ll read a story. Sound good?”
He nods against my shoulder. I drop the diaper bag in the living room and carry him to his bedroom, where I make quick work of changing him into a clean diaper and PJs, then usher him to the bathroom where I brush his teeth and comb his hair. Normally I’d give him a bath too, but it’s too late for that tonight, and he’s obviously tired.
“Alright, do you want to pick a book or do you want me to?”
“Me pick.”
He heads straight for the pile of books on the floor in the corner, moving them around until he finds the one he wants—Green Eggs and Ham.
“Good choice,” I tell him as I take the book from his little hands, picking him up to tuck him into bed before I read to him. Kicking off my shoes, I climb in next to him and sit propped against the headboard so he can see the pictures.
“Again,” he demands around a yawn when I finish.
I chuckle. “Just one story tonight, little man. We’ll read it again tomorrow, okay?”
When I move to get up, his little hand pats my thigh, then grabs my jeans and doesn’t let go. He’s a cuddly little guy, and he doesn’t like to be left alone to go to sleep. Even more so now that he’s sleeping in unfamiliar places. So I pass a hand over his hair and pat his back, settling back into my spot to wait for him to fall asleep.
Once his eyes close and his breathing deepens, I wait a few more minutes before gently lifting his hand from my leg and slipping out of bed, closing the door carefully behind me as I head into the living room to wait for Danny to get back before I return to my own room.
It’s early yet. The concert’s still going on, and after that he’ll have post-show obligations with press and fans. And even though I know he said they don’t party anymore, I’m not sure I believe him entirely. Maybe later in the tour they won’t. But I can’t imagine that they wouldn’t have some kind of celebration after the first concert of a new tour.
With the volume turned down low so I don’t wake Eli, I find something to watch on TV, ordering room service when I get hungry.
Several hours later, there’s a knock at the door, and I wonder if Danny forgot his key card. I check my phone to see if he texted, but I have no missed alerts. Huh.
Standing, I head to the door and pull it wide, only to close it most of the way again when I see two women in tiny dresses—like, I’ve worn shirts longer than those dresses. The brunette has large circles cut out on the sides, so that the red “dress” covers her boobs (mostly), a thin strip goes down her torso, and then goes back to circling her body when it gets to her hips. And there’s a slit on either side. The other one, the blonde, has a more modest dress on, though that’s hardly saying anything since the pink fabric is so tight it looks painted on and barely covers her ass, the halter top cut so deep I can see her sternum all the way to the bottom of her rib cage.
“Can I help you?” I can’t help the frostiness icing my tone. Are they lost?
The blonde giggles. “Danny told us to come wait for him while he finishes up after the show.”
Jaw clenching, I examine them. This is what Danny goes for, huh? “He said that, did he?”
The brunette nods, looking me up and down, a smirk of dismissal on her face at the leggings and T-shirt I changed into after we got back to the hotel. “You must be the nanny. He said you’d be here.” She leans in close and whispers like I’m a co-conspirator. “We’ll be quiet so we don’t bother his son.”
I’ve had my phone with me the whole night. Surely Danny would’ve texted if he was sending … company to his room for the night?
But I don’t actually know him all that well, do I? He’s my boss, not my friend, even if we did spend too much time watching TV together at his condo in LA.
And here I’ve been fantasizing about him, crushing on him, imagining what life might be like if I were more than just the nanny.
/> Stupid me.
Even if he were attracted to me at some point, I’m the nanny. He’s not going to mess that up. Finding a replacement for me while on tour would be a nightmare if he started something and then we broke up.
Maybe he doesn’t party like he did before Eli came along. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still want female company. And I obviously don’t count.
And even if my platonic company were enough for a while, no one knows better than me that men get tired of the familiar and like to try someone new. That’s all I was for Grayson, after all.
For Danny, I’m familiar. And off limits …
Maybe I’m the one with the problem. I thought maybe it was that I attracted men who were off limits. But I’m the one who keeps getting attracted to men I shouldn’t. I’m the common denominator.
My thoughts swirl in my head, trying to distract myself from the base emotion underneath it all. I’m pissed. Pissed that he sent women—plural—to his room in the suite he shares with his son. Knowing that I’d be here waiting for him to get home.
It feels like a slap in the face.
Is he going to expect me to hang around and take care of Eli if he wakes up while Danny has his fun?
With a barely suppressed growl, I make a decision, open the door, and step back. “If Danny sent you, then come on in. His room is the one on the left.”
They brush past me, looking me over again. Some part of me wants to throw the safety bolt and lock Danny out, but I also can’t wait for him to get back so I can give him a piece of my mind.
Giggling softly, the women whisper and plot on their way to his room, obviously no longer concerned with my presence. The words “condom” and “holes” escape before they close the door and cut themselves off from the living room.
Returning to my spot on the couch, I suppress a bitter chuckle. It’d serve him right if he knocked up two more groupies on the first night of his tour this time too.
Chapter Nineteen
Danny
I’m floating on the remains of my adrenaline high, exhaustion tugging at the edges of my cloud. I’ll crash soon, but at least I’m almost back to my room. I’m sure Eli’s asleep already, but Ava will be waiting in the living room. Will she want to watch something like we did before the tour started? Hang out for a while?
Even with the adrenaline crash, it takes time for me to unwind enough to shower off the sweat and millions of handprints from fans wanting selfies and autographs after a killer show and go to bed.
Last tour, I’d hang with the guys for a while after. But with Kendra on the tour, Marcus is understandably eager to get back to his room. And I have Eli and Ava waiting for me. Even if I wanted to party with Aaron, Mason, Blaire and whoever else might want to join in, I’d feel bad leaving Ava on her own with Eli for longer than necessary.
This tour is going to be a much calmer affair, I can already tell. No unexpected pregnancies to pop up and disrupt things either. Which should make our PR people happy. They had a hell of a time navigating the craziness of women’s rights, abortion rights, and the pro-life politics that all came out of the woodwork when I told Eli’s mom that I’d pay for all her upkeep during the pregnancy and take full custody of the baby when she made it clear she had no desire to be a mom.
I was attacked and lauded simultaneously. But I’m not some kind of pro-life hero or anti-feminist asshole. I was raised to take responsibility for the consequences of my actions. That’s all I was trying to do. I hadn’t really planned on being a dad, especially not in these circumstances, but I have the money to make it work.
Eli’s mom was happy with the way things worked out, so it’s not like I forced her to have a baby against her will.
Hints of that still come up every once in a while when certain outlets publish stories about us. The fact that I refused to give any interviews, despite my PR team’s encouragement to give at least one to a trusted reporter, didn’t help anything. I still maintain that even if I’d given an interview, I would’ve come out looking bad either way.
I didn’t do it for the notoriety. I just wanted to do right by my kid.
And here we are.
Slipping into the room, I’m a little surprised to find that the TV isn’t on. Is Ava asleep on the couch? Or is she reading? I’m torn between wanting to watch her sleep like a creeper—just for a few minutes, because I imagine she’s even softer and sweeter that way—and hoping she’s awake so I can hang out with her. I don’t like being alone for the adrenaline crash, but I don’t want to hang with the guys, either. Not that it’s an option anyway.
She pops up from the couch and whirls to face me, arms crossed, nostrils flaring, jaw clenching. If her hair were loose and flowing around her shoulders instead of pulled into a ponytail that’s falling down, she’d look like an avenging angel—beautiful and terrifying. That brings me up short.
“Hey.” I clear my throat and stuff my hands in my pockets, feeling like a little kid about to get lectured. Which is awkward for many reasons. My growing feelings for her, for one. And the fact that I’m her employer, not the other way around. “Is something wrong?”
She snorts, almost a laugh, but not quite. “Just be sure to use your own condoms, unless you want even more groupies coming after you for money to have your babies.”
“What?” I understand her words, but they have no context to help me make sense of them. “What are you talking about?”
She gestures at the door to my room. “The entertainment you sent up for the evening. I hope you don’t expect me to stay while you have your private party, though. That’s not in my job description.”
“My … what?” I no longer feel like a little kid. I’m just totally lost.
She points at my door, and a giggle drifts out. My stomach plummets, and understanding dawns.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter, striding across the living room and flinging open my door.
Two naked women sit on my bed, letting out fake little shrieks of surprise, not even trying to cover their inflated tits. One lays a hand over her chest, pretending to be breathing hard. “Oh, Danny,” she says, her voice all breathy and high pitched, “you startled us. But come here and make it all better.”
Anger bubbles up inside me, but I manage to keep my voice calm. “Get. Out.”
The blonde, the one who’d spoken, smirks. “Please. You don’t mean that.”
God. This is why I’m so glad to be done with groupies. They only care about themselves. “I do. My son is asleep in the next room. Leave. Now.” I turn my head slightly, but don’t take my eyes off the women, keeping the same hard edge to my voice so no one thinks I’m softening. “Ava. Call security from the room phone. Now, please.”
At first we’re all locked in a staring contest, no sounds, no movements, then Ava’s feet shuffle across the plush carpet, and she picks up the phone.
The other two women scramble off the bed, picking up their dresses from the floor and shimmying back into them, their lips pinched in irritation or anger. I don’t care. I’m just trying to keep calm in the face of this blatant invasion of privacy.
And what was Ava thinking letting them in here?
Her voice is hushed as she talks to the operator, a pause before she’s connected to security. But my focus is more on the now-clothed—but just barely—women fluffing their hair and adjusting their tits, still obviously trying to convince me to let them stay and warm my bed. It has the opposite effect on me.
I dial up my innate surliness, scowling and crossing my arms, standing firm as they brush past me, holding up a hand to fend off the brunette when she presses her tits against my arm and tries to kiss me on the cheek. She pokes out her lower lip in a pout at my brush-off, stomping off in her sky-high heels behind her friend.
“Security is on its way up,” says Ava from behind me. I nod in acknowledgement.
The women stop at the door, the blonde resting one hand on the handle. “Your loss,” she tosses at me, her eyes raking down my body. “W
e coulda been the best night of your life.”
Ava snorts behind me, and the blonde sneers at her over my shoulder before yanking the door open and stomping out. The brunette tosses her hair over her shoulder and marches out too.
Silence descends after the door closes, and I stand staring at it for a long moment, my jaw clenching, not sure what to do now. I’m pissed at those women. And I’m furious that Ava let them in. What the hell was she thinking?
The growing tension is broken by a loud knock on the door.
“Dang it,” whispers Ava, still behind me. “They’re going to wake Eli.”
Pressing my lips together and taking a deep breath to remain calm, I stride to the door and pull it open. A man in a black suit and a gold and black tie stands on the other side, the wire coming out of his collar to his earpiece and his high and tight haircut giving him away as security.
“Mr. Samberg? I’m Martin Capps with hotel security. I just wanted to assure you that we intercepted the women you called about and are making sure they won’t enter the hotel again. They were wandering the halls discussing which rooms likely belonged to your band mates. Thank you for alerting us to their presence.”
“No problem. Thanks for responding so quickly.”
He gives a short nod. “Let us know if you need anything else. Goodnight, Mr. Samberg.”
“Goodnight.”
I keep one hand pressed against the door after letting it close behind him, staring blankly at the cream colored paint, breathing deep, trying to calm myself and figure out how best to handle this.
Ava clears her throat behind me and shifts her feet. “Since you’re home, I’ll just head back to my room. Eli’s been asleep for a while. If you need me to come early so you can get enough rest, let me know.”
Turning to face her, I can’t wipe the glare off my face. I feel a little bad seeing her shift her feet nervously, dropping her eyes to her hands twisting in front of her. But not bad enough to quit glaring.
Shouldn't Want You (Cataclysm Book 2) Page 10