To-Do Him List

by Denise Marie

  Hi Cole, I’m here. Let me know where you are so I can catch a cab. Izzy

  She shoved her phone into her pocket and waited for the carousel to reveal Taryn’s, impossible-to-miss lime-green suitcase. Geez, Taryn. Really? She extended her hand to catch the handle. A rather large male hand beat her to it. She jumped.

  “Please, allow me.”

  ****

  Cole glanced from Isabelle to the floor as he paced. Wear marks were sure to become visible soon, but his knee bounced if he sat.

  “Someone special?”

  He stumbled toward the cheerful woman’s voice. With caution, he twisted in her direction and frowned at her. He couldn’t recall her approach, but the lust in her eyes for a “bad boy,” he’d seen right away given his years of experience. “I think so.”

  He’d help Isabelle with her bag, but the idea to check her out from a distance crossed his mind first. Stupid idea. He glared at the man who, by the grin on his face, enjoyed helping her.

  “Goodbye, then.”

  He glanced to his side. The young woman’s sullen words hit him a little too late. She fled with her head down.

  “Ahem”

  He waved off Derek and lowered his ball cap over his face. Otherwise, they wouldn’t make the quick in and out Derek lectured him about on the car ride to the airport. After a deep breath, he stepped toward her and froze when a flush on her skin appeared for the other man. With rigid arms at his side, he balled his hands tight enough to feel the indentations of his fingernails. He tightened his jaw. Her first blush might’ve been for him, if it weren’t for his brilliant ideas.

  Lots of time, Cole. He shook his arms, tilted his head from side to side, and got out his cell phone. The corner of his mouth rose when the slight challenge to compete hit him hard, and not just in the chest.

  That is some blush Izzy. I’m a little jealous over here.

  Send.

  The front of his pants tightened, and he scrambled to adjust himself before his condition became apparent to the observant eye. He held up the paper, guaranteed to get her attention.

  Believe me now Isabelle—Izzy—Chambers?

  Cole rocked front to back with stiff feet, to ease his itch to fidget without her missing him. The paper shook in his hands. She scrambled things around in her arms to search for her phone, and the spasm that tormented his body eased. He stood still for the first time since he’d arrived.

  They were both a mess, a perfect mess. When she found her phone and read the message, she popped her head up, right at him. His pulse raced. For a moment, she dropped her gaze to the floor and back up, before she did it again, blushing.

  “Yes.” Her gaze lowered to the paper and the lust in her eyes disappeared as she bent over in hysterics. People stopped and giggled at the beautiful woman before them.

  He lowered the piece of paper, shook his head, and laughed with her, so hard he had to clench his lips together to prevent a scene. He let out a breath, and a weight lifted from somewhere deep inside. There was a difference between the laughter he experienced every day with the guys and this.

  With the paper tucked into the back of his jeans, he strolled in her direction, thumbs hooked in his pockets. He raised an eyebrow at the ugly green suitcase she picked up. Every inch of her creamy skin sparked desire as she drew closer with a sway of her hips. Her beautiful blonde hair, held back in a ponytail, swung with each step.

  His libido, suppressed for many years with alcohol, sparked to life at the sight of her navy-blue tank top. Well…more so, the beautiful cleavage beneath, enough to be a handful. He bit his bottom lip at the faint evidence of the blush still on her skin, hidden by material he longed to peek under. The tent that formed in his pants made proper introductions difficult, so he closed his eyes and pictured the most repulsive thing. His mother. That did it.

  He stretched his arm out, prepared to take her bags when she stumbled. Sarcastic comments about her clumsiness duly noted, he scooped up her bag and lead her to the private exit, “We better get out of here before people recognize me, Izzy.”

  She placed her hand over her chest and inhaled. “Okay.”

  ****

  A tall, older gentleman with silver-streaked hair appeared out of nowhere and placed his hand over hers. She jumped.

  “Please. Allow me.”

  He winked, removed her carry-on from her grip, and rushed them to the car.

  Cole opened the door and raised his hand for her to go ahead. She tensed from his gentle touch on her lower back along with the scent of cologne, anything but scared.

  When the door closed, flashes from cameras blinded them. The car bounced with the slam of the trunk. The nice man hustled in behind the wheel and secured the locks. He extended his arm over the seat. “I’m Derek McRae, driver for the Scandals. Seems you two managed to dodge the paparazzi…somewhat. It’s nice to meet you, Isabelle.” He winked again, shook her hand, and glared at Cole. “Have a hard time with instructions, don’t you.” He rotated back to the front of the car, his attention shifting from mirror to mirror.

  Puzzled about Derek’s anxiousness, she surveyed the commotion out the windows and held her breath. A swarm of people, most of them women, rushed with the car when they drove away. The door handle and seatbelt, secured tight around her, doubled as anchors to grab onto. “Wow, this is a little crazy, hey?”

  Cole shrugged, and she squeezed her thighs together. His presence affected her in the same way, if not more so, as the night she creeped his Twitter profile.

  “I hope you aren’t shy, Izzy, this is nothing. We’ll drive around for a while before we make our way back to the bus. Don’t want to lead the pack home.”

  Derek’s concentration remained on the road while he spoke. Cole sat with his hand fisted on his knee. She focused on Derek in the rearview mirror. Although well aware of the traffic ahead, he glanced in Cole’s direction every few seconds and shook his head. Cole mouthed the words fuck off back at him.

  With her brows furrowed, she gazed out the window. The landscape that passed by was a similar green to Florida, only green though, no other color. At least in Florida there was an array of color added to the city by flowers. Really, Izzy? Unsure of how to start the conversation, she sat as quiet as he was for most of the drive, which dragged out the distance. She rubbed her crossed arms and continued to watch, but couldn’t track where they were going.

  “Cold?”

  She startled back to his curious smile. Her body heat rose in reaction to the provocative excitement it stirred in her. She shoved her laced fingers between her legs. ‌He raised an eyebrow.

  “What? No. Just a little nervous, I guess.”

  When the tour buses in the parking lot ahead came into view, she swallowed hard but the ramble still bubbled up her throat. “Will all the guys be there? Are you sure this is okay? Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

  He laughed and wiped his palms down his thighs. “Breathe, Izzy. See?” He held his hands in the air and pointed his finger down at his legs. They bounced faster than she’d ever seen before. “You rub your arms, I do this. You’re not the only nervous one. And to answer your question, the guys went out to eat but should be back any minute. We have to get back on the road. They are more than okay with you being here, but I have to warn you, the grown men you see on the outside take a back seat when we’re on the road. It can get a little immature in there.”

  He got out of the car first, rubbed his hands down his pants and took her hand. “Derek will get your bags. Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  He opened the door to the bus and stepped aside so she led. The possibility that he struggled with something nagged at her. When she peeked back over her shoulder, he held his hand an inch away from the small of her back without the actual follow through of physical contact. Their gazes locked and he jerked his hand to scratch the back of his head. He didn’t fool her.

  “It may seem big, but it gets claustrophobic really quick.”

  He climbed the s
teps behind her at a safe distance. She held back her sarcasm. They didn’t know each other well enough yet. ‌At the top of the stairs, he pointed to the tall, gray leather driver and passenger seats. “Derek is very much like a father to us on the road. He gives us shit all the time, but there is usually one of us sitting up front getting some type of advice from him. He is our Yoda.”

  “Good to know. Does his wisdom work well on women?”

  His expression changed when he glanced over the seat at a picture of a woman, and a young girl who could be in her early teens. “I’m sure Derek would enjoy some female company again.”

  Sadness covered his face. She bit her lip; it wasn’t her place to ask.

  They continued forward, and he showed her the small lounge in the front. The walls of the bus were cream colored and the furniture a light gray with dark hardwood flooring. It really didn’t appear as small as he’d let on. Still caught up on the elegant, yet manly bus, she was somewhat tuned into his emphasis on the well-stocked bar.

  “Wait. You do drink, right? I mean, you’re not some kind of recovering alcoholic or anything, are ya?”

  She couldn’t resist. “You know, admitting you have a problem is the first step.”

  The charade couldn’t be maintained with the panic on his face. She turned her head away from him, the laughter bubbled over.

  He hip checked her and moved on. “You’re gonna fit in here just fine, beautiful.”

  Her fingertips drained of color as she gripped onto the counter beside her. She didn’t want to make anything of what had to be an error in words.

  “Pfft.” She waved her hand in the air and urged her feet to follow him. “How do you think I concocted the list? Alcohol can be as therapeutic as it can be damaging.”

  “Very true. I often lie back on the couch and sing my woes out to Dr. Jack Daniels.” He opened a narrow door and took a quick peek inside. “Yes.” He flung it agape and pointed in. “The bathroom isn’t big, but does have a shower. I hope you are familiar with short showers. The supply of hot water sucks. If you want hot, you will need to beat me to the shower.” He winked and raised his eyebrows with all kinds of suggestion as he strolled away.

  She stopped at the doorway and stared at the radiant white shower with a clear glass door, no longer empty. Her skin warmed.

  Cole stood under the stream of water and tipped his head back to wet his hair. The blond strands darkened to a rich shade of brown. She stood in front of him, and splashes of water from his movements sprinkled her bare skin. She smoothed her hand up his muscled chest. “Touch me, Cole.”

  He met her gaze, stepped forward with one arm around her lower back, and guided her until the cold tile wall met her heated skin. He used his free hand to raise her chin, and lowered his mouth to hers. “My pleasure.”

  The air of his breath drifted against her lips before he consumed her with his need. She pressed her body into his and he responded. He massaged his hands down her body and cupped her behind to lift her higher and braced her against the wall. At that height, his swollen crown touched her opening. He inched forward.

  “Something interesting caught your attention?”

  His voice was distant, and the image vanished. Now more aware of her stance, frozen in lust, she closed the door with a little more force than intended. “No…um…just. Never mind, what were you saying?” She crossed her arms and spun in his direction, already down the aisle. He slid back a bunk curtain, but given the gleam in his eyes, his curiosity pestered at him to ask. She was in trouble.

  “This here will be the only place you have for privacy, outside of the bathroom, of course.”

  For her size, the bunk appeared spacious, but for the men, like a coffin. “Do you guys really fit in these?”

  He laughed and yanked back the curtain to the one she assumed was his, and climbed in. It also happened to be right below hers. “It’s not bad, although we do enjoy the occasional novelty of a hotel bed. You will have to step here on my bunk in order to haul yourself up into yours, I hope that’s okay?”

  He dug his phone from his pocket at the sound of a beep and read a message. He rolled his eyes and scooted to the edge. Instinctively, she offered her hand for support. His grasp swallowed hers, but somehow it still fit perfectly. They both stared at their joined hands, speechless.

  He tugged her toward the back of the bus. “Come on, only one more room to show you. The guys are here. This is the room we spend most of our time in.”

  He opened the last door and strolled in like he’d come to rest at a familiar place. From the large, well-used couch he sprawled out on with a sigh, she figured he had. It was big enough all the guys could relax and stretch out a little.

  A big-screen TV hung in the corner with a stand below that held the largest DVD collection she’d ever seen. On the other side of the room was a small table with well-used playing cards thrown about. She’d invaded a man cave.

  She scurried in and sat beside him when loud voices rumbled from the other end of the bus. Her heart raced. What would the other guys think of her?

  Sitting next to Cole, a somewhat friend in progress, should have eased her nerves. It didn’t. His proximity and the affect he had on her, accelerated him past the friend zone, and right into the fuck me now zone. The picture he’d sent her didn’t capture all of his best features. His sculpted physique, obvious through his snug shirt, was built to embrace a woman. She held her breath, refused to take in the cologne and his natural scent that did wonderful things to her body. If she didn’t, the temptation to nuzzle up close wouldn’t be satiated until she straddled his lap.

  Her heart pounded harder as deep male voices neared the lounge. She jerked her knees up in front of her, and wrapped her arms tight around them. Cole’s panic reflected hers, only his stiff posture and the rapid bounce of his knee appeared more out of concern. About her? He placed his arm on the back of the couch, around her shoulders. They both tensed.

  “Cole, where are you? Get your lazy ass out here and help with the groceries before—” A bald, tanned, liberally tattooed, and easy-on-the-eyes man stumbled through the door as if he’d been forced to move. He spun to give someone the finger behind him.

  “Shit. Sorry Izzy, nice to meet you.”

  His first impression she’d expected, tattoos and all, but the nipple piercings that poked through his snug T-shirt when he neared—wow.

  “I’m Zander Wells, bass guitarist and the talent behind the band.” He shook her hand. “Glad you’re here. Maybe you can help Cole get the pole out of his ass.”

  She snapped her attention back to Cole, who glared at Zander.

  “And when she does, she can stick it right up your ass. I’m sure you can find some lube in any of the bunks, Izzy, maybe even some cuffs if you search Zander’s.”

  Zander winked. “That and more, sweetheart.”

  Between the sex talk and terms of endearment, her skin warmed and if she predicted right, deepened to a bright shade of red. There was something different about Zander, even more so when he sauntered out of the room. He carried himself with a class that didn’t match his appearance.

  Caught in a stare, Cole nudged her. She shimmied to get her knees in closer and put her forehead down to hide.

  He leaned in close to whisper. “That blush is going to kill me, Izzy. I’m going to go help put the groceries away. There should be a certain box of cookies to hide in my bunk before these losers get their hands on them.”

  She’d offer to help, but all those men, at once—not a chance. Hell, Zander Wells, by himself, took her breath away.

  “Second thoughts already?”

  The tender voice calmed her, and drew her from her jitters without a startle. However, not enough to chance the glance up from her hidden position, and check out the source.

  “I’m Drew Michaels, Lead guitarist and long-time friend of Cole’s.”

  She grabbed onto the edge of the cushion when the couch sank, and a new male scent joined her. Her eyes widened as
she lifted her head, much higher than she had to with Cole, to check him out. Dark-haired, slender, and pale compared to Cole and Zander, but no less attractive. So tall his shoulder towered above her when he sat, he appeared more humble than scary.

  “Holy shit, you’re tall.” She held out her hand and giggled. “Nice to meet you, Drew. No second thoughts. Just not quite acclimatized to the atmosphere yet, if you know what I mean. Zander is a very unique guy.”

  Drew’s deep laugh could make any woman’s panties combust but when he smiled, it was as provocative as his dark hair against his light-colored skin. “Ha. Guys are already acting like two-year olds?”

  She put her feet on the floor once again, and folded her hands between her thighs. “Oh, I would give them a little more credit. Maybe more like the five-year olds I teach.”

  Her body vibrated from his boisterous laugh. She relaxed a little and joined him.

  The roar of the engine shocked her from that comfort, and she fixed her gaze out the window. The empty parking lot outside provided nothing, not even a car she could pretend to be interested in. An increase in the commotion outside the lounge drew her attention from the onset of nausea. Cole, Zander, and Brett Young paraded through the door, captivated by something funny enough to make them bump fists.

  “We’re heading out now, Izzy, sink or swim?” Cole stuffed his hands in his back pockets, focused on her.

  She straightened her back and challenged the hesitation in his eye. “I’m pretty sure if I can handle a room full of kindergarten kids, I can handle you guys.”

  The men laughed and got comfortable in what seemed like claimed seats.

  “We’re heading out, boys. Try not to scare the little lady, would ya?” Derek appeared in the doorway and offered a father-like smile. “If you need a break, and trust me you will, come on up front, sugar. It won’t take too long to get to the venue from here. Relax and get comfortable with the boys.” He pierced the men with his gaze. “Stay on the bus for the rest of the night, please. I don’t have the energy to hunt ya’s down.”