“If we can get those two to agree on something,” Pete added, throwing an arm around Kym. Bay nodded and was quiet for a time, then, grinning, she raised her eyebrows knowingly.
“They might not agree, but they’re totally going to hook up, right?”
“Totally.”
“I know, right?”
“Who wants to bet on how soon?”
Pete stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, waving them in the air. “I’ll take that bet.”
Emily relaxed back into the seat of Dash’s Mercedes. The car glided smoothly along the highway out to the airport, the air conditioning cold, but welcome. She felt the breeze flow through her thin shirt, making her nipples pucker and harden.
Yes, it’s definitely the air-con, she told herself, and not the temptation of Dash’s long, lean thigh next to hers, his elegant or well-manicured fingers on the steering wheel. She imagined them trailing up the inside of her thigh, stroking her through her panties, slipping inside of her …Jeez, she sat up suddenly. What the hell, girl? You have a gorgeous, sexy boyfriend and Dash Hamilton, however cute, is a complete man-whore.
She stared out of the window of the car, defiantly looking away from his hands, his long, long legs, and his staggeringly handsome profile.
“You okay?”
“Yes, sure. Thanks for the ride.” Even that sounded dirty.
“It’s not a problem.”
“What are you doing in Tacoma this late?”
“Huh?”
She smiled at him. “You said you were going to Tacoma.”
Dash blinked. “Oh, right. Yeah, just some drinks with the guys. What are you going home to?”
“Kid,” she said, suddenly wanting to shock him. It worked. He looked surprised and she took pity. “My nephew lives with me while my sister is on tour.”
Dash looked blank. “Your sister …”
“…is Paige Moore.” She finished for him. He looked at her.
“I never made the connection.”
“Are you sure you work for one of the biggest record companies in the world?” She was laughing at him now and he took it graciously.
“Touché. But that’s so cool. So you look after her kid when she’s on tour?”
“Henry. And it’s more like …he lives with me and she visits. Occasionally,” she added, before she could stop the bitterness in her voice. Dash nodded.
“Got it. How old is Henry?”
“Eight, and he’s just the most wonderful kid. A dream, really, by any parent’s standards. He’s my mini-me.”
Dash smiled at her. “That’s the most animated I’ve ever seen you. You love him.”
She nodded. “I do. It’s weird, because I never wanted kids, but when I imagine my life now, being without—“ She broke off, horrified to find herself choking up. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She felt his hand, so warm and dry, covering hers.
“Hey …”
She brushed away a tear that escaped. “Sorry. Just tired.”
“Tired and emotional. Isn’t that what we say when one of our acts is heading to rehab?” His grin told her he was kidding and she smiled, grateful for his effort to break the tension.
“Excuse me, Mr. Hamilton, none of my acts have ever needed to go to rehab.”
“There’s always time. I saw Pete have two beers earlier.”
“Scandalous.”
Regretfully, she saw they were at the airport, and as Dash pulled up to the drop-off point, she turned to thank him again.
“I told you—no problem.” His smile was gentle and his eyes locked onto hers. A thrill ran through her and a pulse beat between her legs.
“Dash?”
“Yes?”
“You don’t have plans in Tacoma tonight, do you?”
His smile split his face. “Not one.” His humour was so infectious, she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, I appreciate it. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” She got out of the car, but leaned back in when he called her name.
“Say hi to Henry for me.”
She smiled. “I will. Thanks again.”
At the terminal door, she turned to see him still at the curb, watching her. She waved as he did, then watched as he drove away. Her feelings in turmoil, she walked into the airport and went to catch her flight.
Two and a half hours later, she let herself into her apartment to be met by a very worried-looking Maura.
“She knocked …and I couldn’t think how to refuse her. I’m sorry. I let her in.”
Emily looked past her into the living room and her heart sank. Henry sat beside his mother, awkward and uncomfortable, as she hugged him with one hand. As Emily walked into the room, Paige looked up and flashed one of her perfect Hollywood smiles.
“Hey, little sis, surprised to see me?”
Dash drove back into the city, still smiling. Emily Moore was unlike the women he usually had to deal with, both in business and in private. Well, he admitted, how he treated her was different. No posturing and no alpha-male behavior. He found he didn’t want to be anything but be his true self with her. Despite their different views on how to market The 9th & Pine, he found her so comfortable to be with—so easy and natural.
And, God, she was beautiful. Her smile—when she smiled—was infectious and she looked five years younger than her twenty-four. Dash found himself wanting to have grown up with her as the girl next door. He was sure they would have been best friends. Despite her consummate professionalism, he saw that underneath was a woman who hadn’t had nearly the fun she should have had.
Tonight, in the car, it had taken all his self-control to keep from pulling the car over and taking her in his arms. With any other woman, he would have done it. But he had gained far more than a kiss when, because he’d restrained his normal bluff, she’d opened up to him.
At home in his penthouse, he looked out over the city. To be here at his young age was still miraculous to him. After Sam had died and Roman and Tom had come to him, he’d been amazed at how much faith they had put in him. He had been working at a Manhattan PR firm under the tutelage of one of the most feared and respected PR mavens in the fashion business and had already made quite a name for himself due to his outgoing personality and his eye for future trends.
Yes, that time was responsible for making his name, but it was when he joined Quartet that his career took off into the stratosphere.
Tom had laid out his vision for the company, saying that he wanted it to be progressive and embrace the changes in the music business in a way that their rivals still tried to avoid.
“Those kids who are illegally downloading the music still go to the gigs and still spend hard-earned money on the bands’ merchandize. If we championed singers who can actually sing and bands who can actually play, instead of spending millions on plasticizing a generation of girls who should still be playing with their Malibu Barbie’s instead of wearing false lashes and singing about giving head … well, you get the picture.”
Dash did get it and he’d steered Quartet’s artists on paths that snaked between traditional marketing and original, genre specific plans.
So why had he fought Emily so hard when she insisted on marketing The 9th & Pine for their talents alone? When they had such rich qualities to exploit—Bay’s beauty, Kym’s famous parents, and Pete’s immense size and presence? He had no clue, except that he loved arguing with her, seeing those dark hazel eyes flash with annoyance, and watching the pink flush in her cheeks deepen to that delicious scarlet. He wanted to keep that connection between them, the back and forth. He needed it because if they had fallen silent for even a second, he would have grabbed her and kissed her so hard her head would have spun.
God, he wanted her. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, but for all his reputation for being an “eager puppy” something told him that this time he needed to be patient. Play the long game.
He drained his beer and headed to bed. Soon, he thought, if I play this r
ight, I won’t be alone.
Emily Moore was worth waiting for.
Emily closed Henry’s bedroom door, then went to face her sister. She hadn’t wanted a confrontation in front of the child so, after Maura left, she’d ordered pizza and they’d eaten as Paige held court, telling them stories from the road. Henry kept looking between the two of them and Emily could see the conflict in his eyes. Some of Paige’s stories were made to impress him and Emily could see they did have an effect, but then he would look at Emily apologetically, as if by being interested in what his mother was telling him he was somehow betraying Emily. It broke her heart.
Now she busied herself, clearing up as Paige watched her. “You know, you could sit down and talk to me.”
Emily’s fists flexed. “What is it you want me to say, Paige? You come back, Henry goes to live with you, and then you decide you need to express yourself again? Same old story.”
Paige sighed. “Not this time, Ems. I’m tired, I’m sore, and I want my family back. Not just Henry, but you too. You used to idolize me. Now it’s as if you can’t stand to be in the same room.”
Emily laughed hollowly. “So you need your ego stroked. Is that it? Didn’t you get enough of that from your adoring fans?”
Paige rocked back from the anger in her sister’s voice. “If that’s how you see me …”
“I don’t know how I see you, Paige, I don’t know who you are anymore. The sister I knew would never have abandoned her child.”
Emily felt sorry as soon as the words came out, betraying the resentment she’d been holding back for four years. Paige’s eyes filled with tears and she looked away from her sister, reaching to grab her glass of wine. Emily wanted to apologize, but stopped herself. It was better they sorted this out once and for all. She did sit down opposite her, though, grabbing her own wine glass and curling her legs up under herself. She wished Maura was still here, or even Dash …wait, what? She checked herself. Why would Dash Hamilton being here be of any help? She didn’t know, she just …
“I do love him, you know,” Paige interrupted her thoughts. “I wouldn’t change my decision to have him. It was just …I wasn’t ready to give up my life and my career. It all happened so quickly.”
Emily stayed silent, digging her fingernails into her palms to stop from snapping at her sister. She just studied her—the dyed jet black hair and the thick eyeliner that would look ridiculous on Emily but seemed to work on Paige. The kohl-rimmed eyes were weary, though, Emily realized, and her sister’s whole demeanor was riddled with exhaustion.
“What is it you think is going to happen now?” she asked, keeping her tone even. Paige drained her wine glass.
“I’m having my people look for houses here—gated communities. Safe places for Henry to live and play. Somewhere he can invite his friends over or somewhere for him to play sports.”
Emily smothered a grin. “You really have no idea what Henry likes, do you?”
Paige’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Perhaps because neither of you tell me! When I call, all I get is that Henry is doing well in school and that he’s healthy.”
“Perhaps if you asked about him rather than telling us about how your life is so wonderful,” Emily snapped back. Paige sighed.
“We’re not getting anywhere here.”
“No. You can’t just swan back into Henry’s life and turn it upside down. I won’t permit it.”
“You won’t permit it? I’m his mother.”
“And a piss-poor job you did of it.” Emily’s temper finally burst through. “In case you forgot, I am his legal guardian and there is no way I’m letting you rip him from the life we’ve built. He is happy.”
“With the babysitter? How often are you home late, Ems? How often do you go to Seattle and leave him in the care of your assistant?”
Emily stood up. “You need to go now, Paige, before we say things we can’t take back.”
Paige got up, grabbing her leather jacket and heading for the front door. Before she left, she turned and met her sister’s gaze, her expression hard.
“I want my son back, Emily, and I will do anything to make that happen.”
Emily met her gaze defiantly. “I will fight you every step of the way, Paige.”
Her sister slammed the door and Emily cursed, knowing the sound would have woken Henry. When she went to check on him, however, it was obvious he hadn’t been asleep at all and that he had heard every word. His little face was pinched and white, his body curled up in a tight ball.
“Come here, you little fraggle,” Emily said gently and he crawled into her arms. “I’m sorry if we upset you. Sisters fighting.”
“What did Mommy want?” He looked at her and she could see he already knew. He just wanted confirmation.
“She wants you to live with her again. But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I want you to know that you can live here with me forever if you want.”
Henry didn’t say anything, but she felt his body shaking, and to her horror, tears started to dribble down his face.
“Hey, hey, hey …” She rocked him gently “There’s nothing for you to worry about, Henry, I promise. Whatever she and I fight about isn’t your fault.”
“I hate her,” Henry mumbled, his face buried in her shoulder, and she felt her heart crack.
“Don’t say that, pumpkin. You don’t mean it. Whatever she and I fight about, we both really, really love you, you know?”
It took another hour before she could get the exhausted child to fall asleep and by that time, she could barely keep her own eyes open. She changed into her bedtime shorts and t-shirt and fell onto her bed. For a moment she just lay there. The Californian evening still warm, but a soothing breeze floated into the room and closed her eyes.
Then her cell phone bleeped and she groaned. Not now. Not tonight. But when she looked at the message, a smile crept across her face and her whole body relaxed.
Hope you got home okay, Ems. Can’t wait for Friday when we can resume our battle. Sleep tight, warrior. D.
Kym Clayton moved the last of her boxes out to her car and then took one last look around the small apartment she had shared with Stuart Lawson. Shed still been in the hospital recovering from the beating he’d dealt to her when he’d vanished from Seattle. Something had happened between him and Bay, but Bay wouldn’t tell her what—just that Stu was gone and wasn’t ever coming back.
But she’d seen the cuts and bruises on Bay’s face and body and fear had gripped her. What had her friend done to protect her? She tried to get the truth from Tom, but his love and loyalty for Bay prevented him from saying too much. “It was bad, but it’s over,” was all she had gotten out of him.
Now, Quartet had advanced her enough to move somewhere else—somewhere far away from the memory—and she was glad, feeling a weight lift from her. She felt optimistic in a way she hadn’t for a long time. Since her hospitalization, her relationship with her parents had improved too, although her dad’s mutterings of “I told you about that sonofabitch” didn’t go unnoticed.
“Hey.”
Kym started as Bay appeared behind her. She grinned at her friend.
“Thought you could do with some help.”
Kym laughed, rolling her eyes. “And just as I’d finished packing. Exquisite timing.”
Bay grinned. “Hey, look, you still have to move in. I can help out there.”
Kym locked the door to the apartment and posted the keys through the letter box. Bay watched her. “Gonna miss the place?”
“Not even one little bit. Come on, let’s go see my new palace.”
Her new apartment overlooked Elliott Bay and was twice the size of her old one. Bay whistled. “Very, very nice.”
“Says the woman living in a gazillion dollar houseboat on Lake Washington.”
Bay conceded the point, but added, “It’s not mine, though.”
“I think Tom would say differently. That man would walk over razorblades for you.”
> “Which is why I’m careful not to take advantage. The sisterhood would kill me.”
Kym winced. “Dude, let the man spoil you. You deserve it.”
Bay grinned. “He does—I get to climb all over that beautiful body of his. That’s all I want. Everything else is just stuff.”
Kym laughed and hugged her friend. “I’m so happy for you. I really am. You two are perfect together.”
They flopped down onto the plastic-covered couch and surveyed the boxes they had just lugged from the car. “Yeoch,” Kym said and Bay laughed.
“So, what about you, Kymmy? Anyone on your radar?”
Kym shook her head. “God, no. I just want to be alone for a long, long time. Chill out, make music with my besties, earn some decent money, and not worry about men.”
Bay high-fived her. “I’ll buy you a Rabbit,” she promised, straight-faced, and Kym laughed.
“Girl, what makes you think I haven’t already got a drawer full of vibrators?”
Bay considered. “I’ll buy you a new Rabbit.”
“That’s better. But not the neon one.”
“God, is that a thing? Why?”
They both giggled, and then Kym sighed, looking at her friend. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened to make Stu disappear?”
Bay’s expression became closed. “You don’t need to know, Kym. Trust me. He’s gone.”
Kym hesitated, and then asked the question she’d been dying to ask. “Did he hurt you?”
Bay half-smiled and took Kym’s hand. “Not as much as he hurt you. Seriously, Kym, it’s over. You have nothing to worry about.”
She leaned over and kissed her friend’s cheek. “Come on, doofus. Let’s get this place looking like a home.”
Emily felt ridiculously school-girly and shy when she knew she was going to see Dash again the following Friday. They had texted back and forth constantly over the previous forty-eight hours—ideas for the band, joking, and flirting—and as she showered on Friday morning, she couldn’t help closing her eyes and imagining that her hands running all over her soapy, wet body were his hands, sweeping over her curves, teasing her nipples, and slipping between her legs.
Rockstar Untamed: A Single Dad Virgin Romance Page 82