Steady Beat

by Lexxie Couper

  Nope. Had to be reality. She would have been wearing some kind of lacy Victoria’s Secret outfit if it was a dream, not be naked from the waist down, still wearing her work boots and T-shirt.

  At the sound of running water from the bathroom, she sat up, unlaced her boots and tossed them on the floor. Her shirt followed.

  There wasn’t any strength left in her body to make love to Noah again, but goddamn it, when he stepped out of the bathroom he was going to find a naked woman waiting for him, not one half-dressed in work attire.

  If nothing else, she wanted to be held in his arms with nothing between their bodies while they waited for their energy levels to—

  “Pretty certain I told you not to move.”

  His warm chuckle jerked her head up. He stood before her, still naked, his cock now condomless, its length semi-rigid.

  “You did.” She shifted on the chaise, brushing her fingertips over the tip of her right nipple. “I just thought it was time I got rid of the work clothes.”

  He hummed, expression contemplative as he straddled her thighs, his knees pressing into the soft cushion either side of her hips. “Good move. Makes it easy for the third verse.”

  And with a grin, he pressed his hands to her shoulders, flattened her to her back and captured her right nipple with his mouth.

  Noah rolled onto his side, smoothing his arm around Pepper’s waist and snugging into the curve of her body. “We’ll make it to the bed next time,” he promised with a chuckle.

  She slid her hand over his arm, her fingers finding his. “The floor and chaise work well, wouldn’t you say?”

  He nipped her earlobe with his lips. “True. But I do think I may have carpet burn on my arse.”

  Her body shook gently with her soft laugh. “In that case, the bed it is.”

  He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the back of her head. His cock, now finally flaccid after three mind-blowing orgasms, nestled against the crevice of her arse, and even though his body was replete, his mind told him exactly how intimate and wonderful the position was. It wouldn’t take long to be ready again. Which was, in his opinion, too long and just the right length of time. He’d never been one for holding his past lovers for long after sex. Not even Heather. He’d get up, shower, fool around with channel surfing on cable, maybe even wander into the soundproof room kitted out with his gear and pound out some rolls and splashes, listening to his soul to see what new sounds it gave him. But with Pepper, Noah wanted to lie with her in his arms until his body grew tight with need for her again. Nothing else but that. Be still, be close, be calm and talk.

  The realization sent a wave of giddy heat through him.

  He swallowed. He was in love with her.

  He loved her and was in love with her. Not just a passing fancy. Not just a rebound fling. His heart clenched when he thought of her and broke when he thought of not being with her. She made him calm and relaxed and happy and everything he’d never experienced before.

  Burying his face into her hair, he pressed his hand flat to her stomach and inched her closer to his body. “I have to tell you something,” he murmured.

  A subtle tension filled Pepper’s muscles. “What?”

  He sighed, inching her onto her back so he could see her beautiful face. “I have issues keeping my attention on anything for long,” he said, picking his words carefully. “I’ve lived with my manic mind my whole life. I know it drives people crazy. From my first day in kindergarten right through to high school, I was constantly getting in trouble for not paying attention. For being hyper. I can’t sit still for long. Mum and Dad hoped I’d grow out of it, but I never did. The only time I ever felt calm and focused was when I was playing the drums.” A wry snort escaped him. “Which probably explains why I became a professional drummer. I think I would have gone crazy by now if I didn’t have something to centre me. I guess it’s a good thing I’m not that bad at playing them, right?”

  Pepper frowned at him. Her teeth played with her bottom lip.

  He let out another sigh, scared and hopeful at the same time. “What I’m trying to say, in a really fucked-up way, is that I’m not easy to be with. I frustrate most people. Heather hated that I bounced from one thing to another. That I couldn’t sit in a chair without my knee jiggling up and down. That I constantly fiddled with things if I didn’t have my sticks in my hands. It gets to me sometimes too, but only because I feel like I’ve failed something.” He paused, searching her eyes. When he saw no contempt or censure, he continued, letting his fingers draw soft patterns around her navel. “I’m not easy to be with,” he repeated, “but I’m in love with you and hope you’re willing to try.”

  Her eyes widened. Her breath caught.

  “I’ll see a shrink or a doc or an expert on ADHD if you want. I’ll start yoga or tai chi or whatever it takes. Hell, I’ll mainline Ritalin if that’s what they tell me I need to do. I’ll do it all, because I think you are the most amazing, wonderful, beautiful, talented woman I’ve met and I don’t want to drive you away.”

  He stopped, his heart thumping in his ears like an insane solo riff.

  Pepper stared up at him, motionless.

  “I love you, Pepper.” His chest ached. His head thrummed. “And I’m hoping one day you’ll love me. Do you think—”

  The sound of the Star Wars theme vibrated from Pepper’s shorts where they lay discarded on the floor a few feet away.

  They both started at the noise, a nervous chuckle bubbling from Noah’s chest.

  Pepper parted her lips. Closed them. Licked them. Frowned.

  John William’s iconic theme grew louder.

  Noah slid his hand from her belly, his own stomach knotting. He gave her a warm smile. “Get that first. I can wait.”

  She studied him, not moving.

  He nudged her with his hip. “Serious. Whatever you’ve got to say to my outpouring can wait.” He grinned, even as a heavy weight settled on his chest. “It’ll give you time to get the wording right.”

  She returned his smile. “You think I’m going to reject you, don’t you?”

  He forced a shrug to his shoulders. Christ, he felt like he was five.

  “Oh, Noah.” She cupped the side of his face with her warm palm. “You have no—”

  Her phone fell silent.

  He flicked her crumpled hot pants a quick look. “Well, there goes your chance to think.”

  She brushed her thumb along his bottom lip. “I don’t need it. I know—”

  The Star Wars theme started again.

  Noah laughed. Pepper rolled her eyes.

  “Get it,” he said, leaning backward. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  The smile that curled her lips made his pulse pound. As did the emotion shining in her eyes. He couldn’t stop his own smile in return. Elation radiated though him, warm and tight and blissfully wonderful. He didn’t know what she was going to say to him when finished with her caller, but there was no way in hell she could look at him like that without feeling the same as he felt for her.

  No way.

  Grinning, he watched her crawl across the rose-petal smattered floor to her hot pants. His pulse kicked up a notch at the sight of her bare butt. His cock twitched against his thigh.

  He closed his eyes, pulling a deep breath. When he entered her again, it would be knowing how she felt for him. He couldn’t think of anything more—

  “What’s going on, Frank? You sound worried.”

  Pepper’s serious tone jerked open Noah’s eyes. He levered himself up onto his elbows, frowning at her.

  She sat next to her hot pants, her phone to her ear, her back to him. “Of course I’m with Noah. Why?”

  Silence followed her answer for a moment. Noah’s gut clenched. He studied her back, unable to miss the way her shoulders tensed. What was Frank telling her?

  “I don’t like how mysterious you’re being, Frank,” she muttered, glancing at Noah over her shoulder.

  She turned away from him again
, nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll look. But I wish you’d just tell me.”

  More silence. Pepper brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes. Okay. I will. Bye.”

  Noah’s throat grew tight when, without turning to look at him, she lowered the phone to her lap and tapped her thumb over its screen.

  “Pepper?”

  She didn’t respond to his call.

  Instead, she stared at her screen. Instead, her spine and shoulders straightened.

  Instead, she lifted her other hand to her face.

  “Pepper?” He scrambled to his knees as she abruptly stood. “What’s going on?”

  She crossed to the closest chair, a few steps from where she’d sat on the floor, and dropped into it, her stare still on her phone.

  “Pepper?”

  She wanted to hug herself. Or run away. Or climb into a hole.

  She wanted to cry. To throw something. To ask the world why it was so goddamn mean.

  Hot tears prickled at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She wouldn’t cry about this. She had no right to cry.

  Not over this.

  “Pepper, please tell me what’s happened.”

  The frustrated worry in Noah’s voice scraped at her fraying nerves. She lifted her stare from her phone and looked for her clothes. She needed to get dressed. This couldn’t happen while she was naked.

  It was wrong.

  Not seeing her shirt anywhere, she snared the cushion behind her and hugged it to her belly. It would have to do. At least she wasn’t naked.

  “Pepper?”

  Drawing in a slow breath, she turned her stare to Noah.

  He still knelt where she’d left him, confusion etched on his face. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “When was the last time you were with Heather?” Damn it, when had her throat become so dry?

  Noah’s expression registered his shock. “Heather? She left me three months ago. I told you that. Why?”

  Pepper ticked over the numbers in her head, her belly churning. Three months. Twelve weeks.

  Pushing himself to his feet, Noah crossed to where she sat. “Why?”

  She looked up at him, hugging the cushion to her body. Her grip on her cell grew tighter. Hateful. If she’d never answered the goddamn thing, never looked at the website Frank had directed her to she’d be in Noah’s arms right now. Telling him she was in love with him as well. Telling him he was perfect the way he was, that she didn’t want him to change. Instead, she was perched on the edge of a chair, feeling like she was balancing on the edge of a razor blade with sanity mocking her from below.

  Noah lowered into a crouch before her, smoothing his palms over her knees, up the outside of her thighs. His touch sent a shiver through her. God, why had she answered her phone?

  “What did Frank say?” he asked, holding her stare with his. “What did he…what did he tell you to look at on your phone?”

  She swallowed. Her throat clicked. Hot pain splintered her heart. She blinked back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes again. She’d let herself into this situation, goddamn it. This world. She shouldn’t be surprised when it leapt up and bit her on the ass.

  The very second she realized she was in love with Noah, she should have run. Should have put as much distance between them as possible. She wasn’t angry at him. She couldn’t be. The pain gnawing at her soul wasn’t his fault. It was hers. For believing in something beyond her.

  Dropping her focus to the phone in her hand, she woke it up. The website Frank had sent her to confronted her straight away, main headline like acid on an open wound.

  Heather Lang Announces She Is Pregnant With Noah Holden’s Baby.

  Without a word, she handed her cell to Noah. What could she say? The headline said it all.

  Noah took it, his stare on her face. Confusion and worry swam in his eyes, and then he lowered his attention to her phone and she watched his shoulders tense.

  She watched him press his thumb to the embedded clip on the celebrity gossip website’s home page.

  Heather’s face filled the small rectangle, the perfection of her stunning visage unaffected by the tears slipping over her high cheekbones.

  Pepper swung her stare away, unable to look at the model Noah had lived with for eight years.

  “Yes, I’m pregnant,” Heather said, the words leaving the tiny speaker of Pepper’s phone with mocking clarity. “Yes, it’s Noah’s baby. Yes, I’m keeping it. And yes, I do still love—”

  Sudden silence filled the suite, broken by Noah’s choked, “Jesus.”

  Pepper squeezed her eyes shut. She swallowed, her mouth dry. Catching her bottom lip with her teeth, she hugged the cushion tighter.

  “Jesus.”

  She turned back to Noah, numb. Reaching out, she retrieved her phone from his hand, glancing at the weeping image of Heather—paused mid-clip—on its screen. “I think I need to go now.”

  He didn’t answer. Didn’t move.

  She sighed. God, she ached. All over. Lowering the cushion to the floor, she shifted on the seat, preparing to stand.

  Noah’s hands on her knees stopped her. “Don’t go.”

  She looked down at him, her heart breaking at the sight of his lowered head, his slumped shoulders. “You have people to speak to, Noah. And I…” She faltered. She what? What exactly did she have now? Shaking her head on the bleak question, she rose to her feet. “I have to not be here.”

  Her shift in position caused Noah’s hands to slide from her knees. His stare found her eyes. “What if it’s not mine?”

  Pepper couldn’t keep the sorrow from her smile. “What if it is?”

  She walked past him, the suite’s cool air making her all too aware she was naked. The velvet-soft sensation of rose petals under her bare feet sent shards of bittersweet pain through her. She had little doubt she’d never be able to look at a rose again without her heart weeping. For one wonderful, amazing moment, she’d lived, truly lived. For one brief breath in time, Noah had given her everything. Romance beyond her comprehension. She would cling to the moment for the rest of her life.

  Cherish it.

  And hope every night to find it again.

  Finding her clothes, she tugged on her hot pants and shucked her shirt over her head. She had no idea where her undergarments were and didn’t care. The longer she stayed in Noah’s suite, the greater the pain tearing her raw.

  She picked up her boots, watching a rose petal float to the floor.

  “Pepper?”

  Noah’s low voice sank into her resolve. Threatened it. She turned to him, her heart fast.

  He stared at her from the floor. Wretched confusion etched on his face. His fingers tapped his knees in a blurring tattoo. “I…” He stopped, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down his throat.

  Pepper smiled, even as the damn tears stung at her eyes once again. “I know. Perhaps this is the way it’s meant to be. Fleetwood Mac and all, right?”

  Pain pulled at his eyes.

  With a short nod, she walked to the door and wrapped her fingers around the knob. “You’ll make an amazing dad, Noah. I know you will. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  And before he could say a word, she opened the door and slipped through it.

  Noah watched the door close with Pepper on the other side, walking away from him. He slammed his fist into the armchair’s seat cushion, his head screaming.

  Prickling heat razed every inch of his flesh, like a million fire ants crawling all over his body. His blood roared in his ears. His gut twisted. He leapt to his feet and stormed the suite, the heady scent of roses filling his breath. He snarled. Fisted his hands in his hair and pulled.

  Pain lanced his scalp, pitiful against the confusion raging within him.

  Heather was pregnant.

  He spun, looking for what he didn’t know. His stare fell on the king-size bed, its immaculate, crumple-free duvet mocking him.

  “We’ll make it to the bed next time,” he
’d whispered in Pepper’s ear only moments ago, the thought of her in it with him almost too wonderful to imagine. But the bed sat there now untouched, its pristine gold and white satin cover a cruel jibe. As if the world, after giving him something so perfect, goaded him with its removal.

  A hoarse cry ripped from his chest. His soul.

  He hooked his fingers into the bedding, yanked it from the mattress and tossed it across the room. It struck a lamp, knocking it to the floor with a dull thud.

  He stood at the foot of the bed, his chest tight, his breathing wild. He stared at the upended light, the rose petals scattered around it looking like fat drops of blood on the carpet.

  Heather was pregnant.

  He was going to be a father.

  He pictured a baby in his arms. Thought of the spare room in his home—only three of the four walls painted. Thought of the stairs to the second floor. Pictured a toddler falling down them because he hadn’t installed a gate. Christ, how much would he fuck up a kid? He was fucked up himself, a mental excuse for an adult, what would he do to a child?

  He closed his eyes, dragging an image of Heather from the darkness of his mind. Did he go back to her? Should he ever have let her go in the first place? Shouldn’t he have fought for her? But if he hadn’t let her leave him he never would have met Pepper.

  Pepper.

  God, he loved her. Not just with his heart but with every molecule in his body. Her voice, her heart, her warmth. She calmed him. Completed him.

  And yet he couldn’t turn his back on his child. Only a wanker would do that, which meant he couldn’t turn his back on Heather either, right? Right? But why hadn’t she called him before now? How fucking sad to discover this way, via a gossip website. Was it a publicity stunt? Heather always was one for the dramatics. She loved the attention. Her career had skyrocketed when they’d shacked up together, the paparazzi crazy for a wild celebrity couple. Was that what this was all about? Or was she really regretful and thought this was the only way to get to him? Why didn’t she tell him before going public? Why now? When he’d just found Pepper?

  The thoughts and questions lashed at him, a turbulent storm of harrowing confusion, wild and frenzied and crippling.