by Denise Marie
“Karaoke.”
She took a step back, slammed into Cole’s solid chest and a rush of air escaped her, whether from the impact or something more, she didn’t know.
He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and sighed, followed by the most exotic hum of contentment.
His arms anchored her. She held on to him and transferred her gaze from the sign to Drew. He focused on Cole, and from the sight of his furrowed brows and the slight shake of his head, she missed something unsaid. It didn’t have to be. Cole stepped back, and a cold breeze replaced the warmth on her back.
Drew stepped forward, to lead the way with his arm around her shoulders. He glanced back at Cole. “Come on sweetheart, we are dying to see you put on a show for us.”
It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the darkened atmosphere. Subtle glows of gold and blue, the state’s colors, highlighted the popular areas of use—the bar, and the stage. The walls had donned a symbolic motif or autographed portraits of people of significance. Quite a bit of it was tacky, but well-placed to offer a modern style. The light crowd danced and mingled to the vibration of music, however they did pause to stare when she and the men entered the roped off area. Fame did elicit special treatment and attention. Zander left for the bar while everyone took their seat in the booth, her in the center with Cole’s arm draped around her like it were any casual day. She stared down at her twined fingers; it didn’t take much focus to feel the spotlight.
“I’ll get the first round.”
“Make mine a double.” The music ended just in time to make her voice echo. Cole tightened his embrace around her shoulders and chuckled. She giggled too.
Zander returned with empty hands and a killer grin on his face. Yes, they loved their lives. Three beautiful blondes followed him with trays of beer, a bottle of tequila, and many shot glasses ready to be used and abused.
She extracted the first glass from the woman’s hand before she could set it down and drank without coming up for air.
“You boys need anything, and I mean anything, let us know okay?” The well-endowed blonde bent over the table, low enough to display her rack for Cole, and slid him a drink.
Isabelle coughed a fit mid chug at the innuendo.
Tramp.
Brett banged on her back with a firm hand. “No need to choke. If you’re anything on stage like you are in the shower, you will have men making you offers too, hot stuff.”
His wink and smile could melt the panties off any woman.
No wonder.
She sat back as women approached their table, some for autographs and pictures, but most to flirt. The men laughed and joined in, teasing; it didn’t faze them. Within an hour Brett, Zander, and Drew held women on their laps, very comfortable. She stared into her drink whenever one approached Cole. He flirted back and appeared interested in every ridiculous thing they said, but his hand, the one no one could see under the table, stayed twined with hers every time. What was that about? So caught up in the mystery of him, she didn’t notice the man in front of her.
“Hello.”
A beer cap hit her in the chest.
“Damn it, Zander.” She snapped her head in his direction. He tipped his chin up in the other direction and she followed his gaze.
“Hello.”
“Hi.” She smiled wide and leaned forward to shake the attractive man’s hand. The combination of painkillers and alcohol relaxed her. The label told her not to mix the two, but hello, Karaoke.
When she sat back, Cole placed his arm around her, and glared daggers at the man. He stood confident, not bothered by Cole’s back the fuck off vibe. “Save a dance for me?”
His dimples were beautiful. “Sure.”
“The stage is open, folks. Let’s see who can make a scene.”
She snapped her attention back to the stage.
Hoots and hollers sounded and people made their way up front to pick a song they were sure to butcher. The attractive gentleman got the hint and shuffled away when the four men harassed her and ignored his presence. Cole dropped his arm to the table, picked up his beer, and drank all of the amber-colored liquid in one swallow.
“Come on. Get that hot, young ass up there.”
He leaned in to kiss the side of her head. Compliments from Drew, well, from any of them, often resulted in a tender touch and a smile filled with pride. She took a deep breath; her heart raced. “I’ll go last. I want to ensure everyone’s too drunk to notice me.” She straightened her back and practiced the bullheaded glare she’d seen from Cole moments ago, on all of them.
“I’ll always notice you.”
His words in her ear were beyond exciting. Her breath hitched when he tucked his hand under the table, and squeezed her knee before he slid it up her thigh. The denim skirt and tank she changed into before they left allowed for easy access, skin-to-skin contact. He held her legs apart when she clenched her muscles to close them. Heat scorched the path he grazed with his fingers as he continued along her bare skin.
Everyone’s attention was averted to the many novices who took the stage; she sat back and closed her eyes. His seductive ways overwhelmed every one of her senses. Never had she been so uninhibited in public, driven by erotic fantasy. She spread her legs further apart. He teased, traced tiny circles up both of her inner thighs. The wild woman she intended to be would’ve taken charge, directed his hand, and demanded that he please her. A moan escaped her lips just before he hit her sweet spot. She lowered her hand to the hem he’d hiked up, anticipated that he’d drift in another direction once again. Not this time.
“Your turn, Izzy,” Brett hollered over the loud pounding, and the music.
She had vaguely heard the many horrific renditions, but he kept her afloat a cloud of pleasure she didn’t want to come down from.
“Nooo,” she whispered, close to a whine.
Cole chuckled. He smoothed his hand back over the path he forged until it cleared her skirt, and gave her leg a quick tap. “You’re up, darlin’.”
Four pairs of eyes stared when she crashed back down to earth, and Drew’s wink said it all. “Well now, Izzy, a little frustrated over there? Should make for one hell of a show, although the one we just caught was pretty damn hot.”
She jostled out of her seat, a lot easier to do with alcohol in her blood and the sexual frustration that tormented her body. “You guys are asses.”
They laughed and tipped their beers back. She stormed away.
****
Cole sat up, elbows on the table, and waited while she talked to the DJ. She took his breath away. The women who hit on him tonight and in front of her no less—none compared. He played along, needed to for the band’s sake, but no one could hold a candle to the fiery need that washed over him when he caressed her thigh. He neared the point of no return when it came to her, and it scared him.
She can’t die.
His gaze traveled down her body to her knees as she rubbed them together, uncomfortable. The corner of his mouth rose with curiosity. Did her cooling body crave more of his hand, other parts of him, perhaps? When a brief moment of sadness crossed her face, the urge to shove everyone out of the way to get to her pained him.
Laughter from the guys brought his attention back to the table and the drinks that vibrated along with his knee.
“Hey Cole, man, chill. Got it bad, don’t ya?” Before Drew could finish his inquisition, the music started and all four men froze, their attention stolen by her tenacity. She belted out the words to Nickelback’s If Today Was Your Last Day.
The crowd joined in with the lyrics but the men only mumbled curses. Brett, Zander, and Drew shoved the groupies off their laps, their grumbles at the rejection not even on the men’s radar. Cole glanced at his friends while they stared at the stage and if he presumed right, somewhat in awe of her strength, but also concerned.
He rubbed his thighs, forced himself from the seat, and before it hit him, stood in front of the stage. Her confidence fooled the crowd and maybe t
hat’s what she needed right now, but he didn’t buy it. The dance floor thinned out when her song finished, and the DJ announced last call, but they continued to stare at one another.
A slow song calmed the room around them, set the pace for a dramatic night’s end. He extended his arms, grabbed hold of her waist, and lowered her to the floor in front of him. Her body grazed his on the way down and ignited more friction between them than their clothes alone could produce. “Dance with me?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just seized her beautiful torso and swayed with his chin on top of her head. “You could have picked a song a little more…uplifting.”
She leaned back and peered up at him. “Would you have preferred, Live Like You Were Dying by Tim McGraw?”
He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at her. If their roles were reversed, he’d act the same way, but they weren’t, and that was too far.
“Cole,” she sighed. “I’m trying to cope with the worst news of my entire life for the second time. Cut me some slack.” With her head held high, her gaze lowered to his chest. “Please.”
He’d absorb her pain if that were possible, lessen the agony in her eyes. He’d store it with his own, wear the burden for her. He touched her chin with his hand and their gazes met before resting his forehead to hers.
“Please.”
She didn’t need to plead with him for help to forget. He held her face in his palms, crushed his lips down on hers, and forced his tongue inside. It wasn’t a moment to be gentle; desperation to be in an entranced state of mind overpowered him. He needed to touch her, all of her, but didn’t feel she was ready to delve that deep into her list. She could stop him at any time, and he’d be fine with that, but until then, he’d test her limits. He lowered his hands from her face and down her front, over the swells of her soft breasts. She moaned as he brushed his thumbs over her peaked nipples and continued down to her hips. He urged her backward, to a secluded area. When her back hit the wall he cupped her ass and molded his body to hers, but it wasn’t enough. He broke away from the sweet taste of her mouth and kissed down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. She ran her fingers through his hair and fisted the untamed locks. If she urged him down, he’d oblige her every demand.
“Cole.” The last frayed thread of restraint within him broke at the sound of his name on her lips. He slid his hands down, below the hem of her skirt and massaged up again, raising the material with them. Her legs trembled. “You have to stop me,” he panted. “’Cause I won’t stop until I’m balls deep inside you, and this isn’t the place for that to happen.”
“Damn right, it isn’t.” Drew tapped him on the shoulder and yanked him back. “Derek’s on his way with the car. How about you take it somewhere there aren’t cellphone cameras. We’ve already promised tickets to tomorrow night’s show in order to get people to delete pictures. It’s a sold-out show.”
Cole smiled at her when she panicked, scrambling to fix her skirt but couldn’t do a damn thing about the flush of her skin. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I will pay for the tickets.”
Drew tossed a cocky glance at him before turning back to her. “Relax sweetheart. It isn’t the first bribe for pictures.”
He elbowed Drew. “Did you at least send them to my phone before you deleted them?”
She smacked him. He held his shoulder and pretended to be in pain but couldn’t maintain the charade without a glint of amusement.
“Cole Davies.” Her shriek only incited howls and fist bumps. Drew tugged her from the wall by the hand, toward the exit. “You’ll have to take that up with Zander, buddy. I am pretty sure they’re on his phone though. We’re gonna have to get his number changed—again.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek and winked before he flashed a grin over his shoulder. “Make sure to send me a copy if you get your hands on them. It gave me a hard-on watching.”
Cole held the door open and composed himself into the perfect gentleman, albeit an overdramatic one.
“Pfft.” She elbowed him on the way by.
She stared out the window of the car, very quiet. Did he go too far? He didn’t regret it. He was falling for her, hard. He let his head tip back to the seat and sighed when he laced their fingers, and she didn’t stop him.
The cool night air didn’t fix a thing, he was still hard enough to pound nails, and her scent lingered on his skin.
The guys climbed the stairs of the bus first, and he’d followed their lead, until she squeezed his hand to hold him back. “Cole, we need to talk.”
“Yes Isabelle, we do. You said something at the bar, about getting news for a second time. What did you mean?” He raised her hand up to his mouth for a kiss, but this time she rejected him.
When he took a step forward, she held her hand up between them. “Well, the news of my diagnosis was terrible. It changed my life.”
He nodded and fisted his hands. It hurt to see her glance anywhere but at him. He’d tell her she could trust him with anything, but more experienced than most, trust didn’t always come easy.
“I’m married.”
Now he stepped back.
She held her hands in the air. “David Chambers is my husband, or, was my husband. Not so long ago a police officer, and family friend, showed up at my door.” She lowered her rigid arms to her sides, hands also fisted. “David was killed in a motor vehicle accident. We were only married for two years.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek. He stepped to her with his hand raised, not quite sure if wiping the moisture from her face would do any good. Could any act of empathy erase that kind of loss? Before he could try, she shoved him away, but this time it hit him more like a punch to the heart.
“I need to fulfill this list before I get on the operating table. Never in a million years did I imagine this—” She pointed from him to her. “—would happen. I want to continue, but without all these feelings. I refuse to leave behind more loved ones than I have to.” She darted onto the bus before he could respond.
Did she just imply that she could love me?
Chapter Eight
Dear Diary,
With the depth of his gaze, the weight of his words, how could I not?
Cole rubbed the back of his neck as he trod the stairs of the bus. Could this get any more complicated?
Derek mumbled, but he ignored it, plucked a beer from the fridge, and continued to the back of the bus. If space was what she required, he’d give her some, but the grief in her eyes damn near killed him. His suspicion she’d built a familiar barrier between them was confirmed when he stood in the doorway. Only the guys were there.
“She went to bed.” Drew held out another drink after he downed the first in one long swallow. “You okay?” He didn’t let go even though Cole now gripped it too. Temptation to go after her nagged at him, the anchor helped. “No.”
Drew let go and nudged his head toward the lounge.
When he glanced at her bunk, the pale light glowed behind the curtain and he could hear the faint turn of a page. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he stepped in to join the guys, and closed the door behind him.
****
The bus slowed to a stop, and the driver who’d taken over so Derek could get some sleep yawned. Ohio. He didn’t check the time when they crashed, but it couldn’t have been long ago. The hum of the road didn’t drown out the many text message alerts from her phone, and it took all his willpower not to slide the curtain back and demand he be the one she talked to. She consumed him now, much like last night, and he didn’t know how to stop the free fall. His father’s words kept coming back to him.
If you find her Cole, fight like hell to keep her.
His father regretted he hadn’t done that for his mother, but how could he fight for someone who didn’t belong to him, wasn’t guaranteed long term?
“I may not be able to fight for her, but I will fight with her.” A rush of adrenaline hit him when the idea of her failing to complete the list made his own life feel incomp
lete. He glanced down at himself, shook his head, and rushed out of the bus with his phone. Arrangements for her list, with his resources, could be fast-tracked.
****
Cole skipped up the stairs a little lighter on his feet, until his gaze fell on Drew propped against her bunk, rubbing her back. His heart raced. With all she’d confessed so far, any number of things could be wrong. He ran to her in a fog much like the slow motion of a horror movie. The bottle of water and acetaminophen came into view, so he lightened his steps and winced. “Another headache?”
He glared at Drew’s smugness, a little too amused, seeing his best friend fall apart over a girl.
“Hangover.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, and over exaggerated his exhale. “Izzy dear, you are aging me. I have a rock star image to maintain. That won’t be easy with a cane.” He smoothed her hair back so he could see her beautiful eyes and leaned forward, to place a light kiss on her forehead. She groaned. He chuckled so deep, his entire upper torso shook with it.
“Ugh, not so loud. How the hell do you guys do it? Do you have the tolerance of elephants?”
When she let her eyes drift closed at his touch, a piece of the wall he built around himself for years crumbled. Drew patted his shoulder and edged away. She opened her eyes again, with a glint of something he couldn’t define. Need, maybe? Being on the road for years with a group of men didn’t offer much opportunity to take care of someone, to feel needed. The real kind of needed.
He bit his bottom lip. What happened last night still lay heavily on his mind but he didn’t want to provoke her into giving him all he longed for, to know everything about her. He’d been so focused on a label for his attraction to her he neglected to consider what type of baggage she brought with her. To know she had baggage, much like the rest of them, only made the desire to know her stronger. He kissed her forehead once more. His plans for tonight might offer them the opportunity to discover more, in many ways.
“I have a surprise for you.”