Life Rewritten

by Margaret Watson

  “For selfish reasons. I want to get to know them.” She wanted Sam to get to know them, too. He’d be a part of their lives much longer than she would.

  “Heather won’t be happy about that. About the kids spending time with you.”

  She shrugged. “Not my problem. If you want those CDs, you have to stay here. I’ll have my agent contact the Redheads’ recording company and tell them I have some demos that Diesel and I did. I’m sure they’ll be interested. It’ll take a while to decide which ones to use, longer to get them ready for release.”

  “You’re doing this because you think you can make Leo, Rennie and me into a happy little family,” he said, his voice flat.

  She wasn’t going to admit that to Sam.

  “I’m doing it for myself.” That was also true. She wanted to do it for herself and Diesel.

  “You’re full of crap.” Sam kicked at one of the poles in the center of the barn. “You’re trying to force me to be part of their lives.”

  “I’m giving you what you want. The demos will mean lots of money for Leo and Rennie.”

  “I can’t take care of them.” Desperation tinged Sam’s voice.

  “Why not? You rearranged your whole life to come up here. You already have a house, and I’m sure the Ryersons will be thrilled to extend the lease. You can enroll Leo and Rennie in school in Otter Tail.” Better to quarrel with Sam than to think about the implications of what she was about to do. The chance she was about to take. She would have to trust Sam to keep his word about not exposing her. Would he? “I’m caving, and you’re getting cold feet?”

  “You’re asking too much of me, Delaney.”

  “You’re not asking enough of yourself.”

  He shoved his hand through his hair. “Okay, forget about Leo and Rennie for a moment. You told me releasing those demos would destroy you.”

  “If I had to do publicity. If I don’t have to give interviews or appearances, it shouldn’t be a problem.” People had been looking for her ever since she’d disappeared into rehab. Every once in a while, there was a story about someone who claimed they’d seen Chantal. Sam was the only one who’d succeeded in finding her. “Your choice, Sam. You can get what you want. But you have to pay a price.”

  She’d pay a price, too, if she got to know Diesel’s kids, fell in love with them, and then they left. Maybe that would be her penance.

  She picked up the broom and began sweeping the floor, pretending to ignore him. Hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

  He didn’t, of course. He simply moved out of her way.

  Finally, when she dumped the dust and sawdust into a garbage can, he took the broom out of her hand.

  “There must be something else you want. Something I can give you for the demos.”

  “There isn’t.”

  “I can’t give you what you’re asking for,” he said. “I’m just not that man.”

  She took the broom away from him and snapped it into the bracket on the wall. “Why are you afraid of them?”

  “I’m not…” He shook his head. “I’m afraid for them. I’m not a reliable person, Delaney. You saw what happened the other day. I got involved in my work and Rennie ran away. I didn’t even notice. I don’t have room in my life for kids.”

  “You’re telling me you can’t change? I think that’s bull, too.”

  She watched him steadily, and his cheeks darkened. “What about you?” he said, a thread of desperation in his voice. “What if someone slips and the press finds out where you are? Aren’t you afraid that might happen?”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  “Your stubbornness isn’t going to change anything,” he said. “I can’t give Leo and Rennie what you think they need.”

  She stared out the window. Dust motes dancing in the sunlight blurred and wavered in front of her. She remembered her childhood, being shuffled from one nanny to another, savoring every tiny scrap of attention her parents gave her. Acting out just to get their attention. “Leo and Rennie need someone who loves them.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Kids need someone to hold on to.”

  “It sounds as if you’re speaking from experience.”

  His voice was too understanding.

  She moved away. “We’re not discussing me.”

  “You’re trying to force me to do something I don’t want to do.” He stepped in front of her. “You’re trying to blackmail me into living with them. Taking responsibility for them. Loving them.”

  “I can’t force you to love anyone. Emotional blackmail never works, and resentment doesn’t make a good parent.” She tried to back away. “I just want you to give it a chance.”

  “What if I hurt them?” he whispered. “Made it worse.”

  “You’re protecting them from yourself?” She finally got it. Pain for all three of them swept over her, and she cupped his face in her hands. “That’s insane, Sam.”

  “I’m not good for them.”

  “You can be. You’re trying to protect Leo and Rennie. That’s a start.” The rough stubble on his cheeks scraped her fingers. “You’re even trying to protect me.”

  “Why do you sound so surprised?”

  “I can fight my own battles.” She dropped her hands from his face, but he grabbed them and pressed their palms together. Without thinking, she twined her fingers with his. He smiled.

  “Why do you want to protect me, Sam?”

  His fingers tightened on hers. “Last night, I asked you to stop by my house on your way home. Why wouldn’t you do that?”

  “I didn’t think you wanted to talk.” She hadn’t, either. And she’d known what would happen if she went to him after she performed.

  The same thing that would happen now, in her barn, if she didn’t move. Heat from his body poured through hers, warming her. Softening her. His gray eyes gleamed like silver, hot and molten.

  “I did, actually.” His lips curved, and she wanted to touch the vulnerable corner of his mouth. To feel his tongue against her finger. She gripped his hands more tightly. “I wanted to tell you I wasn’t writing the article. But it sounded as if you were protecting me. From you.”

  Desire had been a drumbeat in her blood last night. She’d wanted to push him against the wall, cover his mouth with hers and taste him. Touch him. Lose herself in him.

  She’d thought it was performance adrenaline. That she’d be sane in the light of day.

  Apparently, she’d been wrong.

  “It would have been late,” she said. There would have been no talking if she’d shown up at his house that night. Only hands and bodies, mouths and tongues.

  “I thought about you after we got home. Waited for you.” He leaned closer, until his breath feathered against her mouth. “Wanted you.”

  He let her hands go, one finger at a time, and cupped her face in his palms. “Did you want me last night, Delaney? Were you thinking about me as you sang?”

  She struggled for sanity. For control. “I think about a lot of things when I’m playing.”

  “Did you think about this?” He slid one finger slowly across her mouth, as if he was memorizing every dip and swell of her lips, gauging every tiny shiver she made. Her lips parted and the pad of his finger grazed the sensitive inner surface. She couldn’t suppress the hitch in her breath.

  “How about this?” He slid his hands into her hair, tracing the contours of her skull, letting the short strands slip through his fingers like water.

  One palm drifted to her nape, drawing her closer. “I wanted to know what you tasted like. How your body would feel against mine.”

  His mouth followed the path his finger had traced, then he bit lightly on her lower lip. When she shuddered, he smiled against her mouth.

  “Tell me I’m not the only one who wanted last night, Delaney. Tell me you felt it, too.”

  Surrender weakened her knees. “I did. I do.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. But instead of deepening the kiss, he tasted his way acro
ss her cheek and nibbled on her neck, just below her ear.

  His fingers danced over her back, touching the bumps of her spine, shaping her hips. When he cupped her rear in his hands and squeezed gently, she heard herself moan.

  If she didn’t kiss him, she would die. She rose onto her toes and fused her mouth to his. Not satisfied, wanting so much more, she shifted against him, trying to get closer. She needed to feel every inch of his long body, every hard muscle, every sharp angle. Desire throbbed in a frantic rhythm through her blood, obliterating everything else. It had been far too long since she’d kissed a man. Far too long since she’d tasted a man’s passion, allowed herself to want.

  When his tongue teased her lips, she didn’t even try to stifle her moan. He tasted of coffee and chocolate and sin, and she was beyond thinking.

  His arms tightened around her, and she felt a vague sense of movement. She realized her back was against the wall, and he’d lifted her up so his erection was exactly where she wanted it.

  He took his mouth from hers and she turned blindly, seeking it. Then he tugged on the buckles of her overalls and the front dropped away. Cool air puckered her nipples beneath the thin tank top.

  “I’ve wanted to do that since the night you gave Rennie a bath.” He put his hand over one breast. “You weren’t wearing a bra, were you?”

  “No bras when I’m working.” Delaney kissed him again, tangled her tongue with his as she pressed her breast into his palm.

  “No?” His hand tightened, then he stroked his thumb over her nipple. She arched back, silently begging him to do it again. As his finger circled, she pushed his jacket down his arms. It slid to the floor and she burrowed beneath his sweater.

  His abdomen was hard with muscle, and he tensed when she touched him. She shoved the sweater out of the way and pressed her mouth to his chest, swirling her tongue around his flat male nipple. He tasted salty, like sweat and musk and man.

  He pulled her away from the wall and laid her on one of the desks. Then he yanked up the flimsy tank and looked at her.

  “Perfect,” he said, cupping her breasts. “Beautiful.” He bent and took one nipple in his mouth, and she whimpered helplessly.

  He tried to tug the overalls down, but she was lying on them. Frustrated, he lifted her off the desk.

  “Your house,” he managed to say, tasting her again. “Bed.”

  Her house. If he kept kissing her, touching her, in a few moments they’d be having sex.

  Delaney grabbed his hands and held them. “Sam. Stop.”

  “Why?” He stared at her pebbled nipples. “You want me.” He swallowed. “I want you.”

  For one insane moment, she leaned closer and inhaled his scent. Wanted to run her hands down his ribs, over his flat belly. Lower.

  She released him and stumbled backward. “Sam, we can’t do this. I’m…Chantal. Your brother’s lover.”

  His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire. “I know who you are.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE SUN-DRENCHED BARN WAS a cocoon of intimacy, and Delaney’s hands shook as she pulled down her tank top and rebuckled her overalls. Sam had stripped away far more than a thin cotton shirt. She’d been emotionally naked in front of him, completely exposed.

  “I wasn’t kissing Chantal.” He skimmed his fingers down her cheek, and she wanted to press against his hand. “I want to make love with you, Delaney. The woman who plays a table saw like a virtuoso. Who breaks hearts when she sings. Leo and Rennie’s champion.”“You don’t know me,” she whispered. She was afraid she’d let him see far too much.

  “Then let me in. You hide behind thick walls, but they cracked a little last night. A little more this morning.” He took her hand and drew her closer. “Enough to catch a glimpse of a dazzling woman.”

  His heat warmed the cold places inside her. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder and let that warmth fill her. She wanted to surround herself with Sam.

  The impulse terrified her. She hadn’t let anyone get close to her since Diesel. She wasn’t sure she could anymore. Grief and guilt had encircled her heart with a thicket of thorns. Nothing got in. Or out.

  “It was the music last night.” She freed her hand from his. “It’s emotional. Sensual. It’s supposed to draw you in, make you feel.” She tried to smile. “I guess it worked. For both of us.”

  “You think it’s only music in my head?” He touched his fingers to her mouth, stirring the embers back into a flame. “Not the music. You. But maybe this is the wrong place and time.” He glanced at the maple cabinet in the corner. “There’ll be a better one.”

  “Sam, that happens when I’m playing.” She sounded desperate. “It’s the adrenaline. I want…I need to have…”

  “Drumming turns you on? Is that what you’re trying to say?” He didn’t look offended. He didn’t look like a man who’d just been told he was being used. He looked amused. “Good to know. I’ll make sure I’m around whenever you’re playing. To help you out with that.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she started to say, but he pressed a finger to her mouth.

  “I know what you were trying to say—that you would have wanted anyone last night.” He shook his head, still smiling. “Nice try, but there was no one else in the pub last night for you. Or for me. And this morning?” He brushed his hand over the desk behind her. “You weren’t playing the drums when I came in.”

  He knew her too well. After a week. Bone-deep scared, she said, “Sam, I…”

  “I have to go, Delaney. The kids will be home soon.” He looked around for his jacket, and she saw it spread out on the floor where she’d let it drop. The sleeves were flung wide, as if welcoming her in.

  She snatched it up and brushed off the sawdust, then handed it to him. He shrugged it on without taking his gaze off her.

  “Are you…are you staying in Otter Tail?” That sounded too needy. “I have to know if I should call the record company,” she added hastily.

  “I’m staying.” He bent close and kissed her again, and God help her, she sank into him for a moment. Then she caught herself and pulled away.

  When she stepped back, he began to follow her, then stopped.

  “We’ll talk about the demos later,” he said.

  “Nothing to talk about.” This was more solid ground. Fewer dangerous places. “We made a deal. If you stay here with Leo and Rennie, I’ll release the demos.”

  “I’m staying.”

  “All right.” Her throat felt as if she’d inhaled sawdust. “Good.”

  “Don’t do anything with them yet. Not until we figure out a plan to keep you hidden.”

  “Goodbye, Sam.” She herded him toward the door, afraid that if he stayed longer, she’d lose her tenuous control.

  He glanced at his watch. “Yeah. I have to go.” He kissed her again and lingered for a moment, a promise of more. Then he walked out of the barn. His car door opened, and moments later, his Jeep disappeared around the bend in her driveway.

  She leaned her head against the window, staring at the opening in the trees. She heard the engine hesitate, then it accelerated and faded away.

  Thank God she’d had enough presence of mind to stop herself. She’d almost led him into her house, into her bedroom.

  She couldn’t do that. She wanted something from Sam, too. She wanted Leo and Rennie. And she wouldn’t use her body to get them.

  Taking a deep breath, she began to weave through the furniture in the showroom, her legs still wobbly. Sam’s scent clung to her, and she wanted to wrap her arms around herself to hold it close. Instead, she grabbed a dust rag and wiped off the desk. But it was impossible to get rid of the memories.

  He thought she wasn’t Chantal anymore, but he was wrong. Chantal still lurked inside her, waiting for a chance to come out of hiding. Delaney fought with Chantal every single day. Sometimes, when she played, she was afraid Chantal was winning.

  She stood in front of the maple cabinet, her hands clammy, her heart racing. E
very time she opened this cabinet, Chantal stirred. When she showed Sam the pictures, the bitch had hovered over her shoulder, reminding her what it was like to feel that rush from the drugs. The burn in her blood from the vodka.

  Her hand shook as she reached for the key, and the sound of it turning in the lock shuddered through her like a crack of thunder.

  She swung the door open and saw the guitar on the bottom shelf. Waiting.

  She picked up the box of CDs. Touched each jewel case as the songs played in her head. She remembered writing and recording them with Diesel. Finally, she dug her phone out of her pocket and opened it.

  SAM WAS HALFWAY DOWN Delaney’s driveway when he hesitated. He didn’t want to leave. Delaney was running scared. He’d seen the shock in her eyes when she realized what she’d done, what she’d revealed. She’d scrambled to cover herself, but it had been too late.

  This wasn’t the time to press her. He touched the gas pedal again.It hadn’t been performance adrenaline. It wasn’t random. What had happened between them was damn personal. It was Sam and Delaney, not rocker and groupie. She could deny it all she wanted, but it didn’t matter.

  He knew.

  And so did she. That’s why she was so scared.

  Although he had to admit, playing the Diesel card had been brilliant, reminding him that she was the woman he’d blamed for his brother’s death. She’d probably expected him to recoil from her in horror.

  He turned onto the road that led to his house. She didn’t know him very well.

  He’d never been interested in Chantal. Even when most of the rock world had been panting over her—brash, sexy, outrageous Chantal—he’d felt nothing but distaste.

  Delaney was no longer that woman. He’d had glimpses of the rocker—the incandescent performer who’d held every eye in the pub. Poured out her heart when she sang.

  But Delaney was the woman he knew, the one who’d emerged after all of Chantal’s excesses had been stripped away, leaving only the best of the rocker.

  As he walked into the house and absently petted Fluffy, he glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. He had twenty minutes until Leo and Rennie were due home from the party. He should try to get a little work done on his current thriller.