Definitely a thought that warmed her. Pressing her palms to his shoulders, she gave him a shove. When he thudded to the bed, she wiggled from her side. “Get up, lazybones. I’m quite sure they have coffee out there, and I want some.”
Jen didn’t quite make it to the bathroom before she was scooped up in his arms. The shriek was pure reflex, as was wrapping her arms tight around his neck. “What the hell are you doing?”
“We are taking a shower. Then we will get coffee and food. If we have to order more we’ll do it,” he said. He set her on her feet in front of the vanity and passed her her toothbrush. “I plan on giving you a real, toe-curling kiss soon. To that end, you’d better take care of business.”
Smacking his arm she took the toothbrush. Then she got a look of her hair. “Damn,” she muttered. After getting some paste on the toothbrush, she shoved it in her mouth and got to work on finger combing her hair. By the time Lance had shaved, brushed his teeth, and got the water to temp, she had it under a bit more control.
She’d have to give it a good brushing later. No way in hell was she going out looking like Medusa. Wrenching it up, she found a clip in the drawer, pinned it, and joined him under the spray of water once she finished cleaning her teeth.
“All minty fresh,” she reported.
Lance leaned in to brush his lips over hers, and then kissed her. “Mm, that you are,” he said a moment later. “Turn around please. I want to wash your back.”
“Do I get to wash yours?”
“Seems only fair.”
Biting her lip, she soon let out a moan at the slight massage he was giving her with the help of the slick bubbles. Oh yeah. A girl could definitely get used to this.
Chapter Fourteen
Two weeks later—Miami
Lance was chatting with Jennifer while they waited for the sound engineers to ferret out a glitch. The sight of Christine marching their way, full steam ahead, and that kill or be killed look had a chill of foreboding sliding down his spine. He figured he should likely head her off at the pass. To that end, he excused himself and made a beeline for her.
He got in front of her, holding his hands up to stall her and asked, “What’s wrong?”
For his effort, he was smacked with a newspaper. Fumbling a bit, he managed to catch it. The front-page headline had his eyes trying to bug out. “What the fuck is this?” It screamed Lead Singer of Victorious is my baby daddy! Underneath was a fuzzy picture showing Lance posing for a picture with a woman and another arm.
The badly cropped image was from backstage at one of the many venues they’d played over the years. Lance recognized the particular shade of purple curtains of the wings from a location in upper New York.
“You can’t possibly think this is real?” he asked. Shooting Christine a look, he saw something that sent another chill through him.
“According to her and her attorney’s, it’s quite real. Where’s Jeremy?”
“In the dressing room. He felt a headache coming on and went to lay down while they fixed our glitch.” The words came out without thought. Lance felt numb, and a mildly sick. Like him, he knew Jeremy was super paranoid about protection. But nothing was 100 percent, as everyone knew.
Christine snatched the paper from him and stormed off. Her heels clicking furiously across the surface of the stage as she navigated the wires and roadies going about their assigned tasks.
A warm touch to his lower back had Lance jerking his head around. Jennifer was looking at him in concern. Turning, he wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t care who saw, didn’t care what anyone said, he needed to feel her in his arms.
She made no protest, merely wrapped her own arms around him and began to rub his back. After a time, he felt himself settle again. Loosening his hold, he looked around before giving her what he was sure would be a guilty look. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she whispered. The roadies gave them a couple of curious looks but kept on working. There wasn’t anyone else in the venue except for security, and none of them were in the immediate area. “What’s got you out of sorts?”
“Trouble, big trouble I think. Come on, I need to find Christine and Jeremy. See what the hell is going on and make sure they’re not at one another’s throats.”
To her credit, Jennifer said nothing and slipped her hand into his. She stayed quiet as he pulled her through the backstage area. When they approached the band’s dressing room, he could hear the raised voices.
“...don’t know her!” Jeremy shouted.
“Do you honestly expect me to think you can remember them all?”
“The ones I actually fucking sleep with, fuck yeah. I’m not a fucking monk, Christine, but I do remember what they look like and their damn names. Jesus, nice image you have of me.”
Jennifer tugged on his hand to pull him to a stop. “Maybe I should stay out here. This obviously should be between you guys.”
Lance didn’t hesitate a moment. “I need you in there with me. Please?”
Her gaze softened, and she stepped in closer to press a kiss to his chin. “Whatever you need.”
Squeezing his eyelids tightly shut for a second, he leaned into her. Then he tugged her into the dressing room with him. The sound of the door slamming had the two combatants turning their way.
“She shouldn’t be in here,” Christine said.
“I want her here.” He said it sharper than he’d meant to. He could see he’d stunned Christine. Jeremy looked a wreck.
Jennifer went to Jeremy’s side and touched his arm. She said something softly to him that had the man visibly relaxing and giving her a tight lopsided smile. Then she confronted Christine. “I’m here for them, not the damn article. What is going on, and if you could keep the decibels down too that would be wonderful.”
Christine whipped the newspaper out in a manner that Jennifer could read the headline. Her expression screamed shock, and then she snatched the paper from their manager’s hand. He watched her lips moving silently as she read the story before her lips pursed tightly.
“Jennifer?” Lance had the distinct impression she’d picked up on something.
She held a finger up as her gaze darted back and forth while she kept reading. A minute later she tipped her head, her gaze unfocused as she frowned at nothing.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked her after another couple of seconds.
“I don’t know,” she said slowly. Looking to Jeremy she reached out to touch his arm. “Hey, we’ll figure this out.”
Jeremy gave a look that clearly said he wasn’t buying it. Turning, he went to the bathroom. Across the room, Christine was talking in rapid-fire mode to someone on her cell. Lance took Jennifer’s hand to tug her over to the sofa. “Talk to me, Jennifer.”
She sat beside him when he drew her down to the cushion, but her attention was on the article again. “Something doesn’t feel right about this. Why wait nearly four years before coming out with this? Why wouldn’t she have contacted him if it is actually his child? What type of woman would keep a baby from his father?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe she tried. Christine and her people are extremely protective of us, but I can’t think of why they wouldn’t at least say something to Jeremy. Unless it slipped through the cracks. If it did heads will roll.” He shot a look to their manager who looked ready to blow at any second. “If this woman ever contacted the agency we’ll know soon enough. If she didn’t, then Christine will be getting someone to do a lot of digging into her life.”
Jennifer was chewing on her lip when he looked her way again. “Do you think she’d be okay with me if I made a couple of calls on this? Not about the woman, but I want to know about the picture. I swear I’ve seen it somewhere, and it’s not sitting right with me.”
“We can only ask.”
When Christine got off the phone ten minutes later, Lance called her over. Jennifer explained she wanted to reach out to a few of her contacts in regards to the picture. Christine seemed to m
ull it over for a time before finally nodding. “Do it. Let me know as soon as you find anything out.”
“Absolutely,” Jennifer said. Christine’s phone rang, and the woman was barking out questions to the caller barely a breath later. “She’s completely terrifying.”
Chuckling, Lance wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “She does have her moments. But we find if you feed her fine cuisine and give her a couple fingers of ten-year-old Scotch in the evenings it helps to keep her mellow.”
Jennifer shook her head with a smile. “I’m totally writing that down in the event I need to remember it. I have the feeling I may.”
Rubbing his hand to her arm, he pressed a kiss to her temple. He knew better. Christine liked Jennifer, thought she had spunk, and approved of her. Not that he shared that. Jennifer would realize soon enough that the Victorious manager might be extremely gruff on the outside, but inside she was a marshmallow. A mostly crusty one, but she did still have some softness to her.
While Jennifer started to make calls to her contacts, Lance decided to check on Jeremy. His friend had looked completely shaken by the article. Knocking lightly on the bathroom door he gave it a push when the other man unlocked it. “You okay?”
Jeremy shook his head. “I don’t know, bro. I swear to God I don’t know that woman. You know me,” he said. “I may not be the type to settle down, but I know the names of the women I’ve been with.”
He put his hands on his friend’s shoulders. Giving a squeeze, he stared into Jeremy’s eyes. “No matter what, we’ll all be right there with you. Christine is working to figure out if something slipped through the cracks at her end. Jennifer’s also looking into it too. We will get through this.”
“Yeah, but at what cost?”
That he couldn’t answer. Pulling his friend in for a hug, he let out a breath and stepped back. “One step at a time. Are you going to be able to perform tonight?” If not, they’d have to do something fast.
“When have I not been able to perform?”
“Jeremy, you had the rug ripped out from under your feet. I can see you reeling, bro. Be honest with me, are you good to go out there?” Lance asked, staring at him hard.
After a pause of maybe two heartbeats, their lead singer gave a firm, if grim nod. “I’m not going to let this throw me. I’ll be ready to go out there with the rest of you, on time.”
“Good enough for me,” Lance said. They spoke a few more minutes, during which Jeremy seemed to relax a bit more. When Lance was sure the other man would be okay, he left him be. Settling back down next to Jennifer, he wrapped an arm around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. Her spicy scent wrapped around him to help calm him.
He didn’t know what shit storm might be headed their way, but he knew that they’d be standing together as a united front. With Jennifer at his side, Lance could tackle anything. She was his rock. She was absolutely everything he could ever want, or need in life. It was at that time he realized something else. He loved her.
Chapter Fifteen
After Miami, the band had four days downtime. Lance had been acting mildly peculiar for two of those days as they all got some sleep and some sun as well. Nothing Jennifer could actually put her finger on, but she’d caught him giving her looks that she couldn’t quite describe. They were a strange mix of worry, fear, and awe with maybe a bit of something softer.
At first she’d thought it might have to do with the worry over what was going on in Jeremy’s life. Especially since other news outlets had begun to pick up the “baby daddy” story. But she didn’t think it actually had anything to do with the other man. It would have potentially worried her if not for the fact that they continued on with growing their relationship and getting to know one another better. That and their sex life only got hotter and hotter each time they slid between the sheets.
Lance, the smooth-talking devil, convinced her to take him for a trip to visit her parents. Since they were in Miami anyway, it seemed only right she pop by. Her mom had been thrilled to meet Lance, the first “boy” Jen willingly brought home to meet the parents. Her father, on the other hand, interrogated the poor guy for two hours until her mother stepped in.
He bore it well. Smiling and being his usual adorably charming self. Lance was relaxed around them too which had helped. He’d even sacrificed himself to helping her mother in the kitchen to get dinner ready. At which point her father took her aside.
“He’s a good boy, Jenny. But I feel like I should know him from somewhere.”
Doubtful given her father’s idea of music was the oldies, but goodies like Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, and Roy Orbison. Victorious was definitely outside his wheelhouse. Not that she discounted the fact he may have seen Lance’s face on TV at some point or other. While he might not be up on the latest in the rock and roll world, he still had a sharp as tacks memory left over from his days as a journalist.
“He’s a drummer in the band I’m touring with to write the article for,” she said. Relieved she’d discussed it with Christine before their trip, the manager had agreed Jen could reveal a bit but not too much to her parents should they inquire.
Her dad seemed to mull that over for a few seconds. “I must have seen him on TV or something like that.”
“Quite possibly. The press does tend to hound them,” she said. “Don’t go telling anyone please.”
“Who am I going to tell?” Then he squinted at her. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“We’re still finding our way, and we’re avoiding all the media that hounds them. We don’t want it out there yet. Besides the band and their manager, you’re the first ones we’ve told.”
He made a low humming sound as he clearly thought about it. Then he shrugged and smiled. “Everyone has a right to privacy. Too many of these young idiot reporters and paparazzi don’t understand that. My lips are sealed until I read about it in the paper. After that, you should know all bets are off.”
Laughing, she threw her arms around him. “I can live with that. Thank you, Daddy.”
He’d hugged her back, and given her a noisy kiss on her cheek. “Anything for my baby girl.”
The memory of their conversation had her lips curling into a grin as she relaxed next to Lance. They had Dennis as their driver, the same wonderful guy she’d had for her arrival in L.A., which meant they were able to sit close to one another without worry about their secret getting out.
“What’s that for?” Lance asked while tracing the curve of her mouth.
“Thinking about my parents. They adored you, by the way.”
“I rather liked them myself. Your mother is quite the taskmaster in the kitchen. Has she always been like that?”
Laughing, Jen nodded. “Try growing up as the only child of that particular woman. Pretty sure she could have been a drill sergeant had she ever had the inclination. She’s always been able to get Daddy to jump when she told him too. Despite his claims to his buddies he’s the man of the house and what he says goes.” Lance laughed at her poor impression of her father’s baritone. Which reminded her. “What did Daddy interrogate you about for two hours?”
Lance shrugged, but the color on his cheeks had her curiosity peaking. “He wanted to know about me, my background, friends, schooling, and a bunch of other stuff. I gave him a few pieces of information but told him that as a private individual I didn’t feel comfortable sharing all those details with someone I’d only met. He then turned it around on me to give me the speech.”
“Oh no,” she groaned. Smacking a hand over her mouth Jennifer shook her head. “How bad was it?”
“Not all bad. He did threaten to use some of his old contacts from his days at the Times, apparently folks he interviewed or met, to ensure my body is never found.”
“Don’t listen to him. He’s pulling your leg.”
“Oh babe, I don’t think he was. There was his look in his eyes, and then the assured and devious smirk he gave me tells me he wasn’t kidding. While they may not be of Capone’s
stature, I get the distinct impression they could deal out a world of hurt.”
“I will be talking to that man. I cannot believe he threatened you.” Frankly she was horrified her father would do that.
“Don’t worry about it, Jennifer. Take it as a good sign. Dads only drag out the heavy guns of threats when it’s a guy they like and that their baby girl does as well. Hell, you should probably take it as a compliment.”
“Not feeling it,” she muttered. Wrinkling up her nose, Jen pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I can’t believe you’re taking it this well.”
“Why wouldn’t I? He obviously knows you’re happy and in his book that’s a good thing. You are happy right?”
Giving him a smile, she stared up into his green eyes. “Most definitely,” she assured him.
“Good.” With a soft laugh, he lowered his head to press a kiss to her lips. “Now tell me what’s on your mind. Something is. You have a bit of a worried look going on.”
Amazed that he could read her well already she gave him a smile. “I’m getting ahead of myself I think.”
“How do you mean?”
Jen wasn’t sure she was ready to admit the doubts, and worries starting to pick up steam in her head. Why she was worrying already, she didn’t know, but she also couldn’t seem to stop it. “What ifs and such,” she muttered.
Lance frowned at her, clearly confused. He shot a look to Dennis and then hugged her closer. “We’ll talk when we get back to the hotel, okay?”
She gave him a squeeze. “Okay.” Hopefully, she’d have her thoughts in order by then otherwise she’d likely sound psychotic and off-balance. Tucking her head against his chest, Jen snuggled close. The sound of his heart beating a steady rhythm under her ear soothed some of her ragged nerves. Along with the hum of the tires to the asphalt, and the low music coming from the car system helped to relax her.
Right up to the instant they got to the hotel.
“Go around the block, Dennis.”
The Rhythm Page 8