“Want some company? I was thinking about flying down to meet you.”
Bay groaned. “God, yes, please! I need you, and that also means you get Otis and I can steal Shae away.”
Tom laughed. “Damn, I didn’t think of that …but, yeah, I’m thinking about you too.”
Bay sighed. “It’s really inconvenient of you not to have a private jet. You could be here now. It’s only a hundred miles.”
“A hundred and fifty, and think about the planet.”
“I’m thinking about your cock …”
“Dirty girl.”
“Your cock getting all big and hard and …”
“Bay, I’m still in the office …”
“And it pushing into me so, so deep, my thighs clamped around you …” Bay was grinning, knowing the effect her words would have on him. She heard his breathing become ragged.
“Jesus …”
She dropped her voice lower. “I am so wet for you, baby …can you feel it? I’m so ready for you…”
With a grin, she heard Tom covered the mouthpiece. “Maggie, could you find out when the next flight to Vancouver is? Yes, tonight. Yes, as soon as possible.” There was a pause while Tom waited for Maggie to leave them room. “Could you close the door? Thanks.” Then he was back on the phone, his voice a low growl. “Baijayanthi Tambe, you had better be naked, hot, wet, and ready for me.”
Bay smiled in victory. “And why is that, Mr Meir?”
“Because I’m going to fuck you all night long, woman, in every way we can think of.”
“And we can think of quite a few ways …”
“Be ready.”
“Oh, I will …”
The bar stayed open until three a.m., and so far, Kym had managed to avoid Roman all day. Yes, he’d been in the bar, all day. He wasn’t drinking alcohol, just soda water, but had enjoyed the food on offer—their signature Bourbon burger for one: a half-pound patty with blue cheese, fried onions, and a sticky barbecue sauce made with local bourbon, complete with regular skin-on and sweet potato fries. Kym’s mouth watered. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and she was starving. As she cleaned up, she wondered if she could bribe Acadia, their chef, to make her one before she went home. She went to the kitchen to find her and when she couldn’t, she stuck her head out of the back door where Cal was sneaking a smoke. He grinned at her.
“Acadia gone?” She asked and Cal nodded. “Damn.”
“Hungry?”
“Starved, but never mind, I’ll grab something at home.”
“All done in there?”
“Almost.”
“Leave the rest, sugar lump. Thanks for today. Get home safe, okay?”
Kym went to grab her back and let herself out of the front door, locking it behind her. She now had a blissful forty-eight hours to herself. She breathed in the late-night Louisiana air, cooler now that the sun had set and the heat had had a chance to dissipate—slightly. She grinned to herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been cold.
“Still hungry?”
Kym started violently, skittering away from the voice. His voice. Of course.
“What the fuck, Roman? Are you stalking me?”
Roman smiled and suddenly she noticed how unlike himself he looked. No exquisitely tailored suit, just jeans and a t-shirt, his dark hair curling down below his ears. He looked …relaxed.
“Oh, yes,” he said to her question. “I’m on vacation and who should I run into? My friend, Kym.”
Kym gritted her teeth. “We are not friends, Roman.” But he just grinned again. It was infuriating how that made his darkly handsome face light up.
“Yeah, yeah we are. How do fried catfish and mac and cheese sound?”
Oh, fuck it. Her mouth watered almost uncontrollably and her stomach made a wrenching, growling sound that echoed down the dark street. Roman laughed. “Yes,” he addressed her belly, “I agree. That does sound good. Come on.”
Kym hesitated for a brief second, then hunger won out. “Just this once. And you can tell me what the hell you are doing here.”
The restaurant down on Royal was famed for its late-night food, but still Kym was surprised by how many people were there at three-thirty in the morning. Both she and Roman ordered, and while they waited, she studied him.
“I’m not coming back.”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t asking.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Then why are you here?”
“I needed some time away. I love New Orleans so I thought I’d come hang out.”
“But you knew I was here? I mean you had one of your private dicks find me?”
He just smiled. “How are you finding living here?”
Kym felt like snapping at him, but then their food arrived and it was so good, so utterly delicious, that for a few minutes she just swooned over it. She had to admit it was worth putting up with Roman Ford for this.
“Why are you here? Really? Be honest, please, Roman, just this once.”
He shrugged, but leaned forward. “I wanted to see you. I miss our nights together.”
She hooted. “All those scintillating conversations we had? Oh yes, me too. Bullshit, Roman.”
She pushed her plate away and sighed. “Why can’t you just accept that I don’t want that life anymore. I’ve moved on?”
“I would if you had, Kym. But look at you, trying desperately to run away, to be someone that you’re not. Don’t get me wrong—I like the nerdy librarian look, but even now the rock goddess inside of you is trying to get out. Look at your shirt.”
Kym didn’t need to. Alice in Chains 1992 tour. “It’s just the first one I pulled off the laundry pile.” She waved her hand dismissively and looked away from his intense gaze. Those eyes. Jesus, they made her legs quiver and her sex pulse. Stop it. You’re tired and pissed off, that’s all.
She changed tack. “Look, neither Bay nor Pete has tried to get in contact with me. Did you tell them you found me?”
“No.”
Kym let out a relieved breath. “Good. They’re doing fine on their own.”
Roman, having finished his food, started on her leftovers. Jeez, did he have hollow legs?
“You watched the interviews?”
She looked away again. “It’s late. I’m tired.”
“I’ll walk you home.”
She wanted to object, but really, she was glad of the company. Not that she couldn’t look after herself. Since working in the bar, she’d found a great self-defense class and four months of hauling kegs had improved her fighting strength no small amount.
Roman looked up at her apartment building. “Nice.”
“Thanks. You know, I didn’t take anything of Quartet’s, if that’s why you’re here.”
Roman smiled. “You really don’t trust my motives at all, do you?”
Her return smile was chilly. “I haven’t had reason to trust many people, Roman.”
He was quiet for a moment, then held out his hand. She shook it and he nodded. “Maybe I’ll be one of those you can trust. Goodnight, Kym.”
“Goodnight.”
She watched him disappear around the corner before she let herself into the building and in her apartment. Something made her open one of the large shutters at her window and look out. She couldn’t see him anymore, but she followed the direction of where he must have gone when he left her. Then, abruptly, she shook herself. What the hell? Her irritation at Roman being in New Orleans came flooding back. Just when she was moving on …
…was she, though? Was he right? Was she just running away?
Shut up, she told herself fiercely, going into her bedroom and stripping her clothes off. She fell onto the bed and closed her eyes. It was nearly dawn. Thank god she had the next two days off. She pulled a pillow over her head and tried not to think about Roman Ford.
“What have you done to him?” Bay stage-whispered to Shae Groves, who was trying to keep a straight face. They were sitting in a gorgeous Portland restaurant, h
aving just eaten the most wonderful meal Bay thought she’d ever eaten. Tom, relaxed and happy after last night’s “epic fucking” as Bay so bluntly put it, had his arm across the back of her chair, his fingers drifting gently up her neck. They’d flown down from Vancouver together, checking into the hotel and making love again before Bay had to go to her press events. Now, with Otis and Shae, Bay felt more relaxed, knowing the press tour was over—for now.
She was ribbing Shae about the changes in Otis since they’d started dating. And he had changed …gone was the arrogant, prissy Otis, in favor of this laid-back, relaxed man—a man so clearly bewitched by his brilliant and beautiful girlfriend that it was obvious. Bay grinned at him as he took her teasing with a shy incline of the head.
The men started talking and Shae took the opportunity to ask how Bay was, physically.
“Never better,” Bay smiled. “I mean, I still get some back and leg pain when I’ve been …active, shall we say.” The woman both laughed.
“Worth it.”
“Totally.”
Shae studied her friend. “What about emotionally? It’s not unheard of that survivors of violence can feel the shock hit them months or years after the event. So watch out for that.”
Bay chewed her lip. “What, so, I should feel that I’m getting depressed …”
“It can manifest like that, yes. But other times, for other people, it can hit you like a freight train; a panic attack, a blackout, hypersensitivity, OCD, hyper sexuality.”
“No office talk,” interrupted Otis, breaking off from his conversation with Tom. He waved a finger at Shae and she grinned.
“Yes, boss.” She rolled her eyes at the other two, making them laugh, then she and Otis shared a look. They seemed to be making a silent agreement on something and Bay looked at them.
“What? Are you to up to something?”
Shae grinned at Otis, who sat forward. “So, here’s the thing,” he said, smiling at them both. “We have some news. We kind of …got married yesterday.”
Tom nearly spat his drink out. He choked, then laughed, clapping Otis on the back. “Congrats, guys.”
Bay was hugging Shae. “I’m so happy for you both …when did you decide?”
“In the middle of surgery,” Shae deadpanned, “I was about to resect some torn ligaments and he decides then would be the best time to pop the question.”
“Plus,” Otis added gleefully as Shae poked him. “There was a roomful of other people staring at her, so she couldn’t say no.” He took his new wife’s hand. “Best surgery ever.”
“Thankfully,” Shae turned back to them. “The patient thought so too.”
Later, back at the hotel, Bay lay naked in Tom’s arms and stroked his face. “Do you wish that had been us, getting married on a whim?”
Tom smiled. “A part of me, yes. But then I have the anticipation of you saying yes and us doing something impetuous like that. So …”
Bay shook her head. “You are perfect, do you know that?”
Tom snorted. “Glad you think so because …”
He rolled her onto her back, burying his face in her neck, and kissing her throat. Bay slid her toes up and down his calves as his mouth found her breasts.
“I can’t ever imagine getting enough of this,” she whispered, gasping as his teeth grazed her nipple. His tongue was tracing a pattern across her belly now. “Wait,” she said as he moved lower, “I want to go on top tonight.”
He smiled up at her. “And so you shall …after I’ve done this.”
With his mouth, he brought her to the point of orgasm, then flipping onto his back, lifted her, and she guided him inside her, his cock so hard, so big, and so ready that she shuddered and moaned as he impaled her on it. She rode him gently at first, never taking her eyes from his as his fingers stroked her belly, caressed her thighs, and cupped her breasts, massaging and molding them with his hands.
“And you say I’m perfect,” he murmured, gazing up at her, and at that moment Bay had never felt more beautiful or more loved.
Later, when Tom was asleep, she lay awake. Was she right to make him wait to get married? The truth was both that marriage was never something she had aspired to before Tom and that she already felt like they were married. Now, all they needed was the legal part and maybe a party for all of their friends.
And that was the final sticking point. She didn’t want to get married to the love of her life without her oldest, closest friend.
She didn’t want to get married without Kym there.
Roman was waiting, as had become habit, outside of the bar when it closed. She would nod at him and they would walk to what had become their regular restaurant. Kym had gotten so used to him being around now …what had it been? Three weeks? It was like when she was in that apartment in San Diego again. They would eat and he would walk her home. The only difference was that now they talked while they ate.
To her surprise, he was funny and erudite—a great conversationalist …which made her wonder why he hadn’t been like that before the trial. She couldn’t make that part of him out. On the rare occasion that either of them eluded to the shooting, he would change the subject. It confused her …surely he was here to try and talk her into going back to Seattle?
But, aside from that first night, he never did. He talked to her about her plans, sure, but it was if he were more interested in seeing that she was happy than getting closure.
She opened up to him about her parents; the neglect, the apathy, the insincerity. “I’m not saying I had it worse than anyone else—not by a long shot—but it would have been nice, occasionally, to not feel like a disappointment or to feel like they gave a shit.”
“If they were disappointed, then they’re idiots,” he’d said fiercely. She could have kissed him.
She could have kissed him. God help her, she knew she was falling for him, but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—show it. Never. She was already at a disadvantage with him. He made friends easily and now that he was a regular at the Hot Tin Roof, Cal and Lee and the other bar staff all knew him and were friendly. Lee even nudged her once while she washed glasses in the kitchen, “You should get on that, girl, before some other missy comes along.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “We’re just friends, dude.”
“Hot friends.”
“Shut up.”
But they were spending more and more time together. On her days off, they would go out of the city, explore the swamps and bayous, and do the tourist thing. Kym had fallen for Louisiana hard. Roman seemed less enamored. “It’s too damn hot here,” he grumbled as she laughed at him, swatting flies away.
“If you’re too hot, take your shirt off,” she said without thinking, then blushed furiously. He had grinned, but not said anything. Later, when they were driving back into the city, she looked over at him.
“I never asked …where are you staying?”
Roman looked uncomfortable. “With a friend.”
That had hurt more than she cared to admit. “Cool,” she said lightly and didn’t press the subject. Later, alone, she thought, so why is he is spending his free time with me if there’s someone else? This was when she needed someone to call and talk about this stuff with. The one person she wanted to call—Bay—she had exiled herself from, and right now, tonight, she couldn’t understand why.
Kym pushed back the sheet and padded into her living room to find her phone. It was a new phone, a burner, so Bay wouldn’t recognize her number. She could call, just to hear her voice, and then hang up. She looked at her watch. Eleven thirty in New Orleans, nine thirty in Seattle. She dialed the number she knew better than her own, her heart thumping and her hands shaking.
Two rings. “Hello?” Soft, warm. Kym opened her mouth to speak, but found her throat wouldn’t cooperate.
“Hello? Look, whoever this is, I can’t hear you, so I’m going to hang up now, okay? Take care.” So like Bay to be friendly in this situation.
“No …” Kym’s voice was gruf
f. There was silence on the other end of the phone. Kym could hear Bay’s intake of breath.
“Kym?” Bay’s voice cracked along with Kym’s heart.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. I thought I could do this. I just wanted …”
“I miss you.” She barely heard Bay’s words, so low was her whisper.
Kym couldn’t help the sob that escaped her then.
“Oh, Kymmy …” She knew Bay was crying too. She wondered if she was alone. “Kym …if you need more time, I understand. If you never want to see me again …I under...” – Bay broke off then and Kym heard her cover the mouthpiece and sob quietly.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Kym said now. “I just needed to hear your voice.”
”Okay.” Bay choked out the words, then gave a sigh, calming herself.
“Roman is here.”
“I’m glad …wherever here is. I’m glad you have someone.” Kym was grateful her friend didn’t push her for details.
“I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. For everything. For Stu, for that night, for what he did to you. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Kym. Nothing. You have to stop blaming yourself.”
“I wish I could. Look …I have to go before I break down, just …”
“Wait, Kymmy? Listen to me. One day, if you ever decided to come back, there’ll always be a place for you here. With me. With all of us.”
Kym didn’t know what else to say, her emotions a raging, roiling sea inside of her. “I have to go.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“Love you too, bubbaloo.” She heard Bay’s soft chuckle. “Bye.”
“Bye, sweetie. Call me whenever. Or not. Up to you.”
Kym laughed then. “Bye.”
She was okay for a good ten seconds before the heartbreak hit her and she sank to the floor, hyperventilating, the hole in her chest growing larger and overwhelming her until all she could do was sob silently.
Eventually her sobs died down and she lay on the cool, wooden floor, just breathing and letting the pain run through her body. She didn’t know how long she lay there, but when she heard a gentle tapping at her door, she glanced at the clock in astonishment. Just after midnight. She got to her feet and went to the door. She didn’t have a peephole, so she called out, “Who is it?”
Rockstar Untamed: A Single Dad Virgin Romance Page 96