Rockers After Dark: 6 Book Bundle of Sexy Musicians

by Chase, Deanna

  “You’re not happy, are you?”

  Finally she sighed. “Of course not. Of course I’m not. I won’t lie and say I’d hoped that Angel would wake up to the realities of what he was throwing away. I prayed so hard. But in my heart I always dreaded this might happen. He didn’t appreciate you then, but mija, he seems different this time. I can’t understand…”

  “But I’m pregnant, I can’t undo this, and—”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Who?”

  “The boy? Do you love him?”

  “No. We barely know each other.” I felt great affection for Tor, and the things he did for me—my heart ached for his gentle presence—but that wasn’t love. Right?

  You can’t love someone after barely knowing them. The only thing I was sure of was that I didn’t want him to go anywhere right now.

  “Good, then there is still hope. Angel will just have to learn to accept that he played a part in this.”

  “Whoa.” I held up my hand. “No. No, I’m sorry. But Tor and I are going to try and figure this thing out. I may not love him yet, Ms. Romero, but there are so many things about that man that are amazing. He’s so sweet, and tender, he’s an artist, and painted my wall with a beautiful flower garden. He drove down to see me last night, he’s—”

  She sobbed and I couldn’t understand why. Or maybe I could: I’d just shattered her dreams. This wasn’t easy on any of us. I was as much to blame for how she felt as Angel in all of this. I’d held on, promised them I wouldn’t go anywhere. In the end I would hurt them just as much as their son had.

  “You do love him.” Her voice was small. “I hear it in your words.”

  “No. I barely know him.”

  “But you’re falling in love already, you just don’t know it yet. Promise me something.”

  Biting on my knuckle, I murmured, “What?”

  “Don’t tell Angel. He needs you right now, Jamie, he’s been talking nonstop about you since he’s gotten home. He begins his first therapy session next week and if you could just be there, it would help.”

  I can’t. I can’t. The words screamed in my head. This wasn’t going the way I’d hoped, the way I expected yes, but not the way I’d hoped. “I can’t hide this forever. I’m going to show soon, eventually he’s going to find out.”

  “Then I will be the one to tell him. Please, mija, it would mean a lot to me if you just kept this between us for now. Angel is recovering; this is a setback he doesn’t need. Not now.”

  If not now, then when? When would I be free to live my life on my own terms? When would the responsibility of someone else’s happiness not fall on me? But I couldn’t ask her those things because it wouldn’t be fair; I wasn’t the only one having to put my life on hold. If anyone understood this situation, it was her.

  Ms. Romero, more than anyone else was the reason why I’d stuck this out the way I had. “Fine, I won’t tell him. But I don’t think I can come to physical therapy. I had complications and had to go to the ER today for a little bleeding.”

  “Is the baby okay?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “But I have to take it easy, I can’t really help.”

  “Just being there is help enough. That’s it, just be there to cheer him on and I promise that before you start showing I’ll tell him. Deal?”

  “And Marianna?”

  “Her either. This is between just you and me. I’m not even going to tell Miguel.”

  I didn’t like this, but I didn’t really feel like arguing about it either. Angel was recovering. I doubted he held any true love for me anymore so keeping this a secret didn’t seem like the greatest idea. But it probably wouldn’t hurt to put off the conversation at least for a few more days.

  “Fine. I won’t tell them. But you have to soon.”

  “I will. Now do you want to talk with Angel?”

  I frowned. Why had she sounded so hopeful? “No, I’m not really sure that’s a great idea. Especially not today, I’m exhausted.”

  “Okay, but you will come to his session next week, yes?”

  I agreed with a very heavy heart. By the time we hung up I regretted the promise I’d made her. It didn’t sit well with me to keep my pregnancy hidden. But I was too tired to call back.

  I had to apologize to Tor. The second I’d mentioned Angel’s name in the doctor’s room his face had fallen and I’d known instantly that my priorities were still all wrong. Angel was not my future, like it or not, that ship had sailed.

  Calling Tor, I waited for him to pick up, but it went immediately to his answering machine. I clicked it off before leaving a message. He’d see my number as missed and could call me back if he finally felt like talking to me.

  Why had he shut his phone off? Was he really that mad at me?

  Feeling like I’d just swallowed a bucket of rocks, I dialed Zoe back.

  “Hey,” she said immediately.

  “Is Tor there?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I tried calling his cell,” I sighed. “He must have turned it off.”

  “Yeah, he left about five minutes ago.”

  Sucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I asked, “How did he look?”

  “I don’t know.” I could hear her shrug. “He didn’t say much. Just grabbed a few things from his desk and then he headed out. He was really quiet.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. So tired of feeling guilty about everything in my life, I nodded. “Well, if you see him tell him to call me, okay?”

  “Yeah, hey, did you call them?”

  “Yeah. She didn’t take it well, asked me to hold off on telling Angel for a little bit.”

  “Hmm. I don’t like that. I hope you didn’t agree to it.”

  “Of course I did, Zo. ‘Cause I’m an idiot and she started crying and I didn’t know what to say.”

  “Oh, Jamie. Just get some rest, okay? I’m sure Tor will call you back soon.”

  “Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna take a nap.”

  We hung up after that and I wasn’t actually sleepy, I was hungry, but I didn’t want to move from the couch. My stomach was aching still from a mix of hunger and cramping.

  Shoving a pillow under my side, I rolled over and stared at the mural as another tear spilled.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tor

  I’d called and canceled with the band today—I wasn’t in the mood to deal with Zander’s shit—and instead I’d gone to a garage downtown that I’d rented out for myself months ago and decided to play some music just for me. It’s not that I wanted to be away from Jamie right now, but I didn’t want to say something stupid either.

  Pulling out my guitar, I strummed a few chords, losing myself in the slow rhythm of the progression. I wanted to not think about anything for a few hours.

  The responsibilities before me were heavy and daunting. But as I played my mind kept wandering back to that moment in the room when her first thought had been of Angel. To be honest, I was still pissed at her for it. And yet, I couldn’t blame her either.

  What if Ida had lived? What if she’d come back to me as brain-damaged as Angel was? With a completely different personality? Would I have felt good about myself leaving her to pursue my own happiness with someone else?

  I doubted it.

  Gradually my fingers found a pleasing tune, one I’d not played before. It had a sad, haunting quality to it. Beautiful, and yet full of longing and pain.

  And as I played I thought of Jamie. Of her smiles, her touch, her sad, haunted blue eyes. She was this music. I was crafting an image of her soul, what I thought of her when I saw her.

  Her fragility and strength.

  I played with the song for a while. Losing myself in the need to create. Eventually I grew aware of the late hour. I’d left her back in that apartment without a word. Had she tried
to call me?

  I’d turned off my phone not wanting to get into anything with her, not wanting to say something I’d regret. When I turned on the phone I noticed she had called about four hours earlier.

  Setting my guitar down, I moved to pack up. I needed to talk to her. We were going to figure out a way to make this Angel thing work. Not for me, not for Angel, but for her. Because I cared for her deeply, and I wanted to prove to her I was better than this petty jealousy.

  I could, and would, rise above this nonsense.

  I called her. The sound of her voice made my pulse quicken. “Eskelde, I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  There was a long stretch of silence. “Me too.”

  “Can I come over?”

  “Yes,” she rushed out.

  My lips twitched. “Have you eaten?”

  “No, and I’m starving. But my stomach hurts and I’m too afraid to move.”

  Feeling like an asshole, I shoved my fingers through my hair. “I’m going to bring you some food, okay? Anything you like?”

  “Just nothing greasy.” She groaned.

  “I’m coming. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I was getting ready to hang up when she whispered my name.

  “Yeah?”

  “I love my garden.”

  I smiled. I might be an ass, but she still loved the garden.

  ***

  Jamie

  Tor had clearly not known what to get me. He’d come bearing two giant paper sacks stuffed with food from the local Whole Foods. The scents of roasted vegetables made me drool.

  “Please tell me that is roasted squash,” I moaned, closing the door behind him.

  Walking into the kitchen, he nodded. “Yes, and grilled tofu, quinoa salad, steamed salmon and asparagus—”

  Being bold I wrapped my arms around his waist. Well, I tried anyway. My fingers couldn’t quite touch. My Tor was a big man.

  Sitting the bags down on the counter, he turned in my arms, looking down at me with an intensity in his eyes that stole my breath. Fingers fluttering over my cheekbones, he smiled and the barely there dimple that liked to play peekaboo flashed at me.

  “I swear you get better looking each time I see you,” I whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

  Then, before I had a second to brace myself, he was lifting me up. Not even kidding. He grabbed me underneath my arms and picked me up so that our eyes were level. Automatically I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling a level of intimacy with him I’d not felt before with Angel.

  Turning so that my bum now rested on the edge of the counter, he braced his legs wide. Again I was overcome by a sense of security and once more I found myself growing more Zen, less crippled by fear.

  “I’m sorry, Jamie, about this morning.” His voice was thick and gruff and full of emotion.

  My lashes fluttered. “It was because I’d said what I did about Angel, wasn’t it?”

  His jaw clenched. Even now, with the peace offering he’d brought, and how tenderly he held me, I knew that was a sore topic for him. Trying to place myself in his shoes, I could see where I’d be as upset by it if the situation were reversed. Hell, I’d felt the same way about his ex, and the poor woman wasn’t even around anymore.

  Framing his jaw with my hands, I sighed. “I’m glad you came over, because I wanted to tell you in person that I called Angel’s mom. I told her about us, the baby. You.”

  He slid his large palm up my thigh, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

  “You did?” He sounded so young and hopeful and it made me want to chuckle to witness it. It was heady knowing this big, beautiful man felt so powerfully about me.

  I nodded. “I really do want to give this thing a shot, Tor. And not…” I wet my lips.

  “Yes?”

  “Not just for…” I rolled my wrist, “the baby. But for us. For you. What you did for me this weekend, how I feel when you’re around.”

  He moved deeper into me, we were so close that our centers grazed. I felt the thickness of him press against my heat. I wanted Tor.

  His body, his passions, he’d awakened a hunger in me. A fire that I desperately wanted to explore. I wanted to know him and be known by him.

  “How do you feel?” he asked. The clean, soapy scent of him was like my crack. I was never going to be able to smell this again without thinking of him, in my kitchen, soulful blue-eyed gaze penetrating right through me.

  His hands were warm as they slid around my waist, hugging me tight. Every inch of me tingled.

  “Safe.”

  His kiss was sweet and gentle. Just a tender press against my own. But it was enough to turn my insides to liquid. To make me wish the doctor hadn’t told us we couldn’t go back to my room right now and seal the official start of us with fevered whispers of passion.

  Curling my fingers around his neck, I toyed with the tip of his knotted hair.

  “Let’s serve ourselves,” he whispered, “and then lay the ground rules.”

  “You think we need them?”

  “Of course.” He nodded.

  Dumb question. Of course we needed them. I needed to know where he stood; he needed to know where I stood. This thing could only work if we did it together. That much at least I’d learned from my failed time with Angel.

  Everything was still steaming and hot when we served. Grabbing a thick wedge of teriyaki glazed tofu and nice scoop of quinoa salad with roasted summer veggies, I followed him to the couch.

  At some point I was going to have to get a dining room table. At the bare minimum. A lot of things were going to have to change in a very quick amount of time. A little daunted by the task, I sat.

  Moving a box with his knee, until he’d pressed it against the couch, he put one of my many throw pillows on top of it and patted it. “For your legs.”

  I hope I never got used to his thoughtfulness so that I’d never fail to appreciate it. “Thank you.” I smiled.

  Sitting next to me, he crossed his leg over his knee and cut into his salmon steak with his fork. “What did Angel say about us?” he asked me around a bite of fish.

  Fluffing the salad, I scooped some into my mouth, moaning in appreciation at the toasted nuttiness. “Don’t hate me, but I didn’t tell Angel.” Rushing on before he could say anything, I grimaced. “I swear I called to let him know, let all of them know. But Ms. Romero feels that with Angel starting physical therapy so soon it could be detrimental to his mental state.”

  I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. Tor just chewed, swallowed, and forked in another bite. His breathing was even, and though he didn’t seem terribly happy to hear it, he also wasn’t going nuclear.

  That, at least, was promising.

  “When are you going to tell him?” he finally asked, looking at me head-on.

  Unable to hold his stare long, I dug into my tofu. “I told her we have to do it soon. I mean, I’m pregnant, right. The cat can only stay in the bag for so long.”

  “True.” He nodded. “I need some water, you want any?”

  “Yes, please.” I nodded when he got up. “Are you mad?” I asked him when he pulled down the cups.

  Grabbing a pitcher of water from the fridge, he poured for us. “No, Eskelde. Not at you. I was at my garage playing for hours, trying to understand how to handle this thing between you and Angel.”

  Coming back in, he sat down and handed me a cup. I placed it on the floor beside me.

  “We really need to make this place a little bit more habitable,” he said, noting my drink.

  I sighed. “I know, but I’m so overwhelmed. I don’t know where to even start.”

  Shoulder bumping me, he gave me a grin. “Well, you’re not alone anymore. I’m going to help you get things done before the baby comes.”

  Giving a nervous laugh, I shook my head. “Thi
s feels so surreal. I can’t believe you and I are going to be parents. Together.”

  He snorted, slipping some roasted eggplant in his mouth. “Not the way I would have scripted things, for sure. Mm.” He chewed, pointing at his plate with his fork. “This is very good. Have you had it yet?”

  “No.”

  “Here.” Scooping some onto his fork, he lifted it toward me.

  A little shy, I kept my eyes down as I took from his fork. He was right; it was good. Soaked in brine and sautéed in olive oil. “Yes.” I covered my mouth giving him wide eyes before throwing a thumbs-up at him.

  “Right.” He winked.

  My heart totally melted as he reclined back on the couch. Chewing contentedly. Was it possible things could really be this easy? It felt so natural with him. Not only did I feel like I could fall in love with the guy, but for sure I wanted to be his friend. I liked being around Tor, seeing him laugh and smile, hear him call me his beloved, try new things with him.

  I guess if I had to have a baby with somebody I’d not been planning on doing it with, I could have done much, much worse than Tor Boler.

  “She wants me to come to the physical therapy session next week,” I muttered loud enough that he could hear me.

  He shifted, giving me a raised brow. “And how do you feel? Do you want to? You know what the doctor said.”

  “I know.” I dragged the fork through my salad. “I’m not going to get as physical with him this time. In fact, I plan to sit the whole time I’m there.”

  Finishing up his plate, he set it aside before grabbing his cup. “But you didn’t really answer the question. Do you want to go?”

  “Do I want to go? No.” I thinned my lips, being honest for the first time about this whole situation. “I know everybody thinks I’m still infatuated with Angel, and honestly, I’m not. But there’s a lot of guilt mixed up into this whole thing. I might be ready to walk away from him, I’m not ready, or even wanting, to walk away from his family. For years they were the only ones ever really there for me. Besides Zoe.”

  “Where is your family? I thought they were here.”