This Is Our Song

by Samantha Chase

  Nodding, Riley said, “Two tracks. Got it.”

  “And don’t stress about them. Everything you have on here is freaking amazing. It’s okay to call a few in. Do a cover tune or two. Trust me, the fans are going to love it no matter what because they love you.”

  He hadn’t considered doing any covers, but it was good to know there were some options. Honestly, he preferred to do all his own music—especially for his first solo project. Riley wanted people to know he was talented enough to carry it all on his own without any help. “I’ll think about it,” he said to Mick, “but I was hoping to use all original stuff.”

  “Believe me, we would all love that, but we can’t wait another six months for you to come up with songs. If you have anything you haven’t used yet, let’s hear it and see what the guys can do to flesh it out with you. But if you’re starting from scratch, you gotta know the pressure is on. This album needs to be done by the end of the month, Riley. They’ve already got songwriters on hand who are salivating at the idea of you recording one of their songs.”

  “Mick—”

  “Yeah. I know. It’s my job to let you know what’s going to happen if you don’t wrap this up. I told them you wouldn’t be open to it and their response was…” He shook his head. “Let’s just say you’d be doing us all a favor if you had a few more songs up your sleeve.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  With a nod, Mick grabbed his briefcase. “I’ll see you and Savannah Friday night at Roger’s place. Call me if you need anything.”

  As Mick walked out, his musicians walked in. They were a great bunch of musicians Riley had handpicked for the project. As everyone took their places and began fooling around with their instruments, Riley wondered if he was wrong. If he only needed two songs, why was he killing himself? He had bits and pieces of songs, but they hadn’t gelled yet.

  “Hey,” he said, and everyone quieted. “So…Mick’s telling me we only need two more songs and then we can call this one done.”

  “That’s awesome!” his drummer Tyler said and everyone agreed.

  “Here’s the thing…I don’t have two completed songs, and I don’t know if what I do have is enough to work with. Mick tells me there are a couple of songwriters with songs ready to go for me.”

  “Dude, don’t do it,” Russ, his bass player, said. “Come on. Play what you have and tell us what you want. We can totally do this.”

  Riley smiled as everyone looked at him with excitement and determination written all over their faces. Picking up his guitar, he got himself comfortable and said, “Okay, here’s what I’m thinking…”

  * * *

  Riley was home from the studio by three on Friday. Savannah was waiting for him at his house and had just gotten out of the shower when he walked into the bedroom.

  “Damn,” he said, seeing her wrapped in nothing but a towel. “I was hoping to get home before you did that.”

  “I wasn’t sure what time you’d be back so I wanted to make sure I was done in the shower so you could get ready.”

  With a sexy grin, he stalked her. “I made sure I got home early enough so we could both get ready and shower together.”

  “Riley,” she chuckled, walking backward and holding out a hand to ward him off.

  In a flash, he had her hand in his and hauled her into his arms. “Join me in the shower,” he said as his mouth began travel across her shoulders, licking up the moisture he found there. She sighed his name as his hand came up and tugged the towel away. She gasped and then he had them both in the bathroom.

  “Join me in the shower,” he repeated, his hands skimming up and down her back before resting on her bottom and pulling her snug against him.

  “We really should…oh…we need to get ready,” she panted as Riley placed open-mouth kisses everywhere he could reach.

  “Plenty of time,” he murmured. “Trust me.”

  “I do,” she sighed.

  Raising his head, he gave her a triumphant grin. With his eyes on hers, he turned the hot water on in the shower and stripped. And when he stepped into the huge, spa-like shower and tugged Savannah in with him, she didn’t even pretend to put up a fight.

  * * *

  “So basically, I’m stumped.”

  Savannah was putting the finishing touches on her makeup when Riley made that statement. He was sitting on the bed in nothing but his boxer briefs, and she could see him in the giant mirror in the bathroom. “So all you need is one more song?”

  He nodded. “It shouldn’t be so damn hard, but nothing sounds right. Nothing is saying what I want it to say. Every song on this album is very personal to me.” He looked up at her. “And you haven’t even heard them all because you haven’t been in the studio for over a week.”

  “You’re pouting again,” she reminded him and put her makeup away. Turning toward him, she rested against the vanity. “Besides, I’m just about done with your story, and the only reason I could finish it was because I didn’t go to the studio. And now I get to be surprised along with everyone else when the album hits the stores.”

  He made a face. “I really wanted your input, Savannah. Your opinion is important to me.”

  She sighed. “Okay, look…this last song? Personally I think you’re overthinking it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re looking for something new, something fresh because it’s what you think has to be done.” She shrugged. “I don’t think that’s what it’s all about. This album is about you—Riley Shaughnessy. And if you don’t have something brand-spanking new, then I don’t see a problem with doing a cover.”

  “I don’t want—”

  She held up her hand. “Not just any cover song, but a song that means something to you. Really means something to you. Think about the music you used to play in the garage when you were a teenager. Or songs you used to sing when you used a hairbrush as a microphone and watched your reflection in the mirror.”

  “I never did that,” he grumbled.

  “Everyone did that,” she retorted. “Even those of us who cannot carry a tune to save our lives sang into a hairbrush and then accepted our Grammy award in the form of a can of hair spray. Deal with it.”

  He stood and walked over to her and placed a gentle kiss on her nose. “So you really sang into a hairbrush?” he teased.

  She nodded with a grin. “Pat Benatar’s ‘Invincible’ was a favorite.”

  “Nice.”

  With a quick kiss on the cheek, Savannah walked back out to the bedroom. “Everyone starts somewhere, and I think putting a song on the album that has a special meaning for you and your music career can be a great addition to the playlist.” Looking over her shoulder at him, she smiled. “But that’s just me. If you’re that against it—”

  “It’s not that,” he said quickly and then growled with frustration. “I feel like if I do that, then I’m giving up. Calling it in. Not…creative enough to finish the damn thing.”

  Savannah’s shoulders sagged and she turned, went back to him, and hugged him close. “Riley, what is going on? Why is this such a big deal?”

  “I want this album to be the best. I want all those critics who thought I was some sort of no-talent hack to see they were wrong.”

  Guilt swamped her because she knew not so long ago she had been one of those critics. “You have nothing to prove,” she said quietly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “You are incredibly talented. Your talent astounds me. And anyone who can’t see that and appreciate it isn’t worth your time.”

  “Now you sound like Mick.”

  She smiled and kissed him. “That’s good because he’s a pretty smart guy.”

  “Yeah but—”

  “No. No more negative talk. In the end you have to do what feels right to you. It’s your name on the album and you need to have music on there that you’r
e proud of. So take a little time to think about it. But not tonight. Tonight we get to go out on a real date!” She let out a little squeal of excitement. “No disguises. No hiding out. Tonight you get to be yourself. We get to dress up and go out and eat yummy food and have some champagne… I’ve been excited about this night all week!”

  Riley looked at his reflection in the mirror and frowned. “I need a haircut. I should have done that before today.”

  Fishing through her makeup bag, Savannah pulled out a pair of hair scissors and held them up for Riley to see.

  “Seriously? You carry a pair of scissors around with you?”

  “Tools of the trade,” she said happily. “Come on. I’ll give you a quick trim before we get dressed.”

  He grinned. “Will you do it naked?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “No, perv,” she said but couldn’t help the giggle that went with it. “But if you’re good, I’ll take my robe off and do it in my underwear.”

  Riley sprinted from the room and came back with one of the stools from the breakfast nook and then made a zipping motion over his lips. He sat down and looked at Savannah expectantly.

  “Such a weirdo,” she muttered and began finger combing his hair to get a feel for it. “I don’t think we need to do a lot, but I’ll clean it up a bit for you.”

  He smiled and nodded but didn’t utter a word. Then he pointedly looked at her robe and then up to her eyes and back again.

  “Oh, for crying out loud.” She sighed and shrugged off her robe, letting it pool at her feet before kicking it aside. “There. Happy now?”

  Another enthusiastic nod.

  Savannah walked around him, trimming his hair and then combing through it to get the look she knew he favored. When she came back to stand in front of him, she stopped between his legs and was pleased with the results. Reaching past him, she put the scissors down and then used both hands to comb through his hair. “All done.”

  Riley’s hands instantly went to her waist and squeezed as he stood up. “That was the hottest haircut ever.”

  She giggled. “Stop.”

  “I don’t think I could ever let anyone else cut my hair again. Promise me you’ll always do it for me and always be in your underwear.” His hot gaze raked over her. “You look exceptional in purple silk and lace.”

  “You said the exact same thing about the red set I wore yesterday,” she teased and tried to step out of his grasp, but he held firm.

  “You look exceptional in everything you wear, Savannah,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

  “You think so?” she asked, sighing as she leaned in and kissed his chest.

  “I do.”

  “I think you look exceptional too, Riley. Particularly like this.”

  He groaned and hugged her tight. “If we didn’t need to be at this party, I’d thank you properly for the compliment.”

  “How about a rain check? You can thank me properly after the party,” she purred.

  “You’re on.”

  * * *

  In her career as a writer, Savannah had found herself in many different social settings, but this party at Roger Gray’s house was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. She’d been to parties and dinners with rock stars and, at the time, thought nothing could be more decadent.

  She was wrong.

  Gray’s estate seemed to take up a city block and was decorated like something out of a movie set. She was almost afraid to touch anything. Riley must have sensed it because he kept chuckling at her.

  “It’s okay you know,” he whispered in her ear.

  “What is?”

  “You’re allowed to touch things. You can’t juggle with them, but it’s okay to get close to them.”

  “One of those plates probably cost more than my car,” Savannah whispered back to him. “I’d hate to get noticed because I broke something.”

  He kissed her cheek. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

  “Not the way I like to make an impression.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “Sweetheart, this dress is a great impression. I’m the envy of every man in this room.”

  She blushed. “Somehow I doubt it. Isn’t that Christina Jenkins over there? You know she was on the cover of Cosmo last month.”

  Riley shook his head. “I don’t care. All I can see is you.”

  It was impossible to stop the girly sigh. The man certainly had a way with words. “If you keep talking like that we’ll never get the opportunity for you to schmooze and make your donation.” She playfully tugged at his shirt. “Because I’ll drag you out of here and have my way with you.”

  He hummed against her. “I hate to break it to you, but all you’re doing is encouraging me. Mick might get pissed because I didn’t stay, but it would be totally worth it.”

  She laughed. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Come on, let’s mingle.” Taking his hand in hers, Savannah did her best to put a little distance between them but she already missed the heat of his body.

  They roamed the room, making small talk with the people they encountered. Savannah marveled at how Riley seemed to know the exact thing to say to everyone. He seemed to have something in common with everyone, and by the time they moved on, the people they had just spoken to were almost gushing over him.

  To his credit, Riley never left her side. Whenever possible, his arm was banded around her waist or he was holding her hand, and he never missed an opportunity to introduce her to people and include her in the conversation. Truth be told, he was the most perfect and attentive date she’d ever had.

  Mick walked over with a big smile on his face. “You’ve got everyone in this room eating out of the palm of your hand,” he said so only they could hear. “I’ve been approached by about a dozen different people wanting to schedule interviews and appearances with you.”

  “That’s great, Mick,” Riley said.

  “Savannah,” Mick began, “do you know what the release date is going to be for the magazine?”

  “Tommy and I talked about it being a multi-issue thing. He’s waiting for me to finish editing before he’ll commit to which date it’s going to come out. The sooner the better as far as he’s concerned.”

  “Perfect,” Mick said with a huge smile. “If it’s all right with you, I’m going to call him in the morning and get things moving. How soon until your edits are done?”

  A wave of panic threatened to overwhelm her. She didn’t like to be rushed, but she knew why Mick was anxious to get things moving. “Um…I…maybe by the end of next week?”

  He nodded. “That sounds good. I’ll talk to Tommy tomorrow.” Reaching over, he patted Riley on the back. “Tonight is your night, my friend. Work the crowd a little more and in about twenty minutes we’ll present your donation and then…” He winked. “You’re free to go.”

  Riley pulled her a little tighter against him. “Thanks, Mick.” After his manager walked away, Riley snagged them both a glass of champagne. “The way I see it, we can easily be out of here in about thirty minutes.” His gaze met hers. “And then…there was talk of a rain check, I believe.”

  Blushing, Savannah looked around to make sure nobody could hear them. “I do believe we mentioned something about—”

  “Riley Shaughnessy…the man of the hour.”

  They turned and saw Marshall Hall coming to stand beside them. He was a well-known television producer who specialized in working with MTV and VH1.

  Riley held out his hand to shake Marshall’s, and Savannah couldn’t help but wonder where she’d met Marshall before. Everyone knew who he was, but she couldn’t recall where it was they might have met.

  “Good to see you, Marshall,” Riley said easily, but Savannah could sense some tension in him.

  “I’m hearing a lot of buzz about this upcoming album,” Marshall replied. “Any chance we’re going
to hear any of it tonight?”

  Riley shook his head. “Tonight’s all about Roger and what he’s doing for the ASPCA. I’m only here as a supporter.”

  Marshall chuckled. “Sure. That’s why we’re all here.”

  Savannah sensed the double meaning as well as the implied barb.

  “Marshall, this is Savannah Daly,” Riley said, clearly choosing to ignore the man’s comment. “Savannah works for Tommy Vaughn.”

  Marshall’s eyes went wide. “Wait…you’re a reporter?”

  Savannah nodded, but before she could speak, Marshall was talking again.

  “You and I met a little over a year ago. I was doing a segment for VH1 Classics on Aerosmith and you were there to do a piece on Joe Perry. We talked over a cup of coffee while the crew was trying to get the lighting problems fixed.”

  She smiled. “Oh, yeah…now I remember. That turned out to be a fun piece. They’re a great bunch of guys.”

  “Definitely,” Marshall agreed. “But I must say, I’m surprised to see the two of you here together.”

  Riley frowned as he looked from Marshall to Savannah and back again and asked, “Why?”

  Marshall chuckled nervously. “Well, at the time, Savannah was a little—shall we say—vocal about Shaughnessy and how you measured up to other bands who’ve stood the test of time. Like Aerosmith.”

  If Savannah thought Riley was tense a minute ago, he was like granite now.

  “I don’t recall ever trying to compare myself to guys like that. I mean, how could I? They’ve been around forty years longer than I have.”

  Marshall seemed to relax a little. “That’s what I said, but we were talking about the documentary I was getting ready to do and we were going to do a segment on the next generation of rock stars—who were going to be the next Aerosmith or the Stones—and when your name came up…” He shrugged. “Let’s just say she helped me narrow my choices down.”

  Everything in Savannah went hot and then instantly cold. Son of a bitch! It all came flooding back to her—the conversation, the interview, and how much of a condescending prick Marshall Hall was. It was one thing for them to have had the conversation, but there was no reason for him to bring it up now right in front of Riley.