by Zoe York
He laughed and tugged on her ponytail.
Dean felt a totally irrational stab of jealousy. Second time in two days. Danger.
West started to deal another hand, but then he took a second look at the stack of chips in front of Andrew’s chair and grabbed the four twenties from the centre of the table. “Hey, you…” he swore under his breath. “This might be why you don’t have more money, you idiot. You walked away from the table with the highest stack.”
“Oh.”
Liana met Dean’s gaze across the table as Andrew doubled back, and they both burst into laughter.
“I think it’s bedtime for everyone,” she said.
Dean started packing up the poker set. “Yeah.”
West shook his head and clapped Andrew on the shoulder as they both headed to their bunks.
Liana took her time moving around the common space. Long enough for West and Andrew to both get tucked in, their bunk partitions closed.
The living room was open to Dwayne in the driver’s seat, but he was playing music, and suddenly, they were pretty close to alone again.
Not really alone, and after what happened the other night, he knew there was a world of difference.
I want to touch you, he thought as he they stood a few feet apart. It physically hurt, how much he wanted her. His palms itched and his chest felt tight.
“How did you know Andrew’s problem was with West?” she asked quietly, her eyes drifting sideways to the couch.
He sat in the middle of it, carefully scoping the line of sight from the driver’s seat and the bunks. The corner of couch was probably pretty private. He gestured toward it with his hand, and she took the hint, settling herself right in the corner so he could slide in next to her.
“Because West parked his ass right in the centre of the storm. I can’t tell you how many times Jake did something to Matt, then sat innocently at the kitchen table while Matt raged around and took it out on Sean. It took me a long time to realize it was Jake being an asshole.”
She frowned. “Your brothers?”
“Yeah.”
“Why…you mean after your mother died? Did it all fall to you?”
“Not all of it.” Just ninety-five percent. “My father’s not…maternal.”
She rolled her head to the side, resting it against the wall as she gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. That’s hard.”
He shrugged. It was in the past now.
“But you guys are close?”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “Even though they’re jackasses, my brothers are my best friends. And Jake’s not an ass anymore. He outgrew that as a teenager. He’s an old soul. Matt and Sean, though…they’re still young bucks.”
She laughed quietly. “Like Andrew and West.”
“Very much so.”
“And you’re the one they go to with everything.” She licked her lips, the pink tip drawing his attention to where he wanted his own mouth to be. “The phone calls.”
“The what?”
She grinned, and he pulled his eyes up to meet hers. “From your brothers. You’ve been gone a few days and at least two of them have called you.”
“Yeah.” He dropped his gaze back to her mouth. “I guess.”
She giggled and slid her leg against his body. “Distracted by something?”
“Maybe.”
* * *
— —
* * *
Liana licked her lips again. “Is this a good idea?”
She’d never get enough of looking at his face. The hard planes of his jaw, his cheekbones, his brow. The expressive little muscles that turned a smirk into a question, a stern frown into a private laugh. The light in his eyes and the softness of his lips. Obviously it’s a genius idea. Why question it?
Because he was a better man than she was used to. And before she got in too deep, she wanted to make sure they were on the same page.
“Depends what this is, maybe.” His hand settled on her calf. He squeezed gently. “I work for you.”
“You work for Hope.”
“That's a technicality.”
“But what would happen if I tried to fire you? Because I would. For another kiss…”
All she got in reply to that was a grin. Did he think she was kidding? She so wasn’t kidding.
So she moved closer to make her point.
“You don’t need to fire me.” Another squeeze on her leg, this time higher. Her knee was on top of his thigh now. If anyone came out of their bunks, this wouldn’t be able to be explained as anything other than an intimate moment.
They should shelve this conversation for another day. Another time.
Instead, she reached out and touched his chest. Against her fingertips, his heart thumped slow and steady, and her stomach did a delicious roll over.
“I’ve done the romantic fantasy thing. Left it in ashes and haven’t looked back,” she whispered. “I’m not going to try and complicate this, I mean. I’m not a delicate flower anymore.”
“Oh, I know. You’re tough as nails, Liana.”
She closed her eyes. Oh, she liked the way he said her name way too much.
His lips against hers were so light she almost thought for a second that she’d imagined it.
Her eyes flew open, and he was right there. She was just out of sight of Dwayne. He covered his lips with his index finger.
Shhhhh.
She nodded.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said quietly, his gaze serious as he looked at her. “You sing like a whiskey-tinged angel. And you’re a smart fucking business person. And I spend nearly every minute of the day thinking about how much I want to kiss you. That you’re trying hard to be sensible about it just makes that hotter, I promise.”
She swayed against him, wanting to wrap her arms around his neck and pull their mouths together again. But the blind spot in the corner of the couch wasn’t big enough for that, and the chances of getting caught were too high. Instead she patted him on the chest and smiled as he shifted away from her.
But he didn’t go far. He caught her wrist as he slide over, and he held her hand between them long enough for the warmth of his body to dance through her fingers and up her arm, filling her with a bright, light heat.
Like maybe holding hands was even better than kissing.
Then he looked at her mouth and the heat twisted inside her, the flames licking higher. Okay, maybe not. But damn…both were pretty incredible.
Sensible.
Sure. They could pretend that they would be sensible about this.
Chapter Sixteen
DEAN thought he’d like the outdoor festival, but like the concert in Washington, it was jam-packed full of other performers, and unlike Washington, they were all arriving and leaving at different times. Liana almost got hit by a tour bus tearing out of the parking lot, and even before they got backstage, he was on edge.
Their crew had gone ahead, setting up in the prep area just behind the mainstage. There wasn’t a green room or dressing area, so Brad radioed to one of her roadies and they got the heads up when it was time to head to the stage—which all sounded good in theory, but it meant that Liana was majorly stressed by the time she was five minutes out from performing.
Dean wanted to pull her aside and give her a hug. Wrap her in his arms and shut out the noise. Well, he couldn’t hug and kiss her, but he could physically block it out. He hooked his fingers gently around her upper arm and turned her around, tucking her into the shadow behind a stack of speakers. With him standing in front of her, she was essentially alone for at least the moment.
“Close your eyes,” he said quietly.
“Visualize my success?” she asked, her lips turning up slightly at the corners. He tried not to think about other, more effective ways of making her smile. Sigh. Moan.
“Exactly.” The word was rougher than his first instruction, and she blinked up at him.
“Close them.”
“But that sounded like you might be thinking about something dirty.”
“Shush.”
“Tell me later?”
“Definitely. Now think about that crowd. They’re totally into your song. You own them.” He pictured himself as he watched her, and his voice got lower, rougher, more raw. “You hold them in thrall. You’re a queen.”
She inhaled, more deeply this time, and held it for a second. A slow exhale followed, and then again, in and out, twice more. When she fluttered her eyes open, she was smiling with her entire face.
She wiggled to a beat that only she could hear and he stepped back.
“Good to go.”
“Uh huh.” She looked him up and down. “In thrall?”
She was going to use that against him later. He couldn’t wait. He tucked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans and winked at her. “Definitely.”
That got him a secret smile and a whispered thanks as she slipped by.
* * *
— —
* * *
Liana grabbed her water bottle from where she’d set it on the speaker and gave Jackie an all’s good thumbs up. It wasn’t, really. After two good shows, she was suddenly wound tight again.
Plus now she had the worry about tensions flaring in other directions as well.
Jackie might still be mad at Andrew—with good reason—but she’d leave it off stage.
Could Liana do the same?
Fucking anxiety.
She tried to breathe as West led the prayer. In and out. Then the boys were gone, onstage and ready for her.
Jackie gave her a quick nod as they still stood in the shadow of the side stage, then played the familiar start to ‘River Bed Lullaby’ before walking on stage. This was most impressive in an arena, where the spotlight would follow her all the way across to the far side, then split into two, the second light tracking back to pick up Liana as she walked into view.
But even though it was mid-afternoon and they didn’t have the theatric lighting effects, she still felt the crowd shift to her as she prowled into view.
Come to me, she thought as she growled out the aching lyrics.
They usually did this song at the mid-point of the show, but for an outdoor festival, the setlist was different—they didn’t have a captive audience, and most of these people weren’t necessarily there to see her. They started with a powerhouse ballad and then they’d build from there, doing all the party anthems in her catalogue before ending with Cravings.
But first, she had to do a little flirting.
“Hello, Louisville!” she said into the mic as she ran to the front of the stage and leaned out into the crowd, waving at the fans who held up signs with her name on them. “You are looking beautiful this afternoon, I gotta say. Yes, you. Stunning.”
She grinned, then pressed her hand to her chest. “Anyone feeling a little sad right now? Anyone here need to escape, maybe? Yes? You?” She blew a kiss to those who’d hollered yes. “I know. Me too. But there’s joy to be found in music, right?”
That was West’s cue, and the rest of the set went perfectly by the book.
Until she glanced into the crowd during “Cravings” and found a man sneering at her. Her head immediately tried to minimize it—because this happened, especially at big, multi-performer concerts. He was here to see a good ol’ country boy, and she wasn’t that.
It was fine. And if it was a dark arena, she’d never have seen him.
But the mocking look on his face, like he was laughing at her, reminded her too much of Track.
She stumbled over the lyrics, then tore her gaze away from the stranger in the crowd because fuck him, but the damage was done.
This wasn’t as bad as Savannah, but as the song ended, she knew her reprieve from doubt was over.
* * *
— —
* * *
They were staying in a hotel that night because St. Louis wasn’t a far drive. After the shaky performance, she needed a good night’s sleep.
Part of her was desperate to get alone with Dean, too. But another part wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. Of course that part fell mute when, after they checked in, everyone else ended up in the other wing.
She was breathlessly aware of Dean following her down the quiet hotel hallway to her room. All alone, and in three, two, one second, she’d have a chance to invite him into her room.
“Thank you for today,” she said quietly as she slid her keycard into the door. She didn’t look at him.
“Of course.”
She pushed the door open and stepped into the dark of her room. Dean reached past her at the same moment she stretched for the light switch, and their fingers brushed.
“Let me get that,” he said quietly and she moved further into the room as it lit up.
The door shut behind them.
She started to undo the buttons on her blouse. She had a black tank top underneath. It wasn’t indecent…but it was direct in a way she suddenly couldn’t find the words to say.
“Liana…” Yes, she liked her name rolling off his tongue. Even when it was accompanied by a wary—but definitely interested, thank goodness—narrowing of his eyes as she turned around.
“Yes, Dean?”
He grinned at her. “What are you doing?”
“Getting a bit more comfortable. No reason not to, right? We’re all alone.”
“So we are.”
She tipped her head to the side as she dropped her blouse on her bed. “First time for that.”
“We were alone the other night.” When he’d almost kissed her.
“I was tired and emotional then.” And you’re a good guy.
“And now?”
“Now I’m…” She shrugged. “Okay, still tired and emotional.”
“I should let you get some rest.”
See? Good guy. Phffft. “Ah.” Well, he wasn’t wrong on that count. “In a minute.”
She prowled closer to him. He was so tall and broad. She wanted to pet him all over. That would be an excellent distraction.
“That’s a dangerous way to look at me,” he said quietly.
“Are you saying I’m not safe with you?” she asked breathlessly, fluttering her hands against her chest. That would be a fun game to play.
He gave her a lazy, dirty grin that said he knew exactly what she meant. Oh, God, that look was a panty-melter for sure. “Definitely don’t assume you’re safe with me.”
Ha. So not completely a good guy. That was just fine by her. She leaned in, close enough to breathe in the scent of him. She caught the hint of a sharp, masculine body wash, but mostly he smelled like a warm, sexy man. She wanted him with a burning intensity that shocked her to the core. “You want to take advantage of me, Dean?”
“No comment. I think you should go to bed.”
“Yes…bed.” She reached for his hand and he laced his fingers through hers. “Tuck me in?”
He groaned as she moved them closer to the bed, but stopped her before they got all the way there. Spoilsport. She moved closer and pressed her hands against his chest. He was warm and hard and strong all over.
He circled her wrist with his fingers, then tugged her hand off his body. But he didn’t let go. “I want you like crazy, Liana. You know that.”
“But…”
He gave her a pained look and tugged her a little closer.
Not close enough.
Not by a long shot.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, brushing his other hand against her cheek. Just a glance. Just a tease.
She shivered. “Don’t overthink this. Maybe it's just a really good way to spend the next six weeks. Or ten minutes. I don't expect anything.”
He shook his head, and when he looked at her again, his eyes were softer. Green flecks glinted at her as he searched her face, first with his gaze, then again with his fingers. He touched her jaw, her cheekbone, and down to the edge of her mouth.
She parted her flushed lips and res
isted the urge to lick them.
His fingers drifted down her neck, over her throat, making her swallow hard, and around to the shadow at the nape, where he tangled his hand gently in her hair.
“Here’s the thing, princess. You had a rough day today.”
“I’m a big girl,” she protested.
“No doubt. But I don’t want you burning my t-shirt, either. I want to kiss you again, but I don’t want to hurt you.”
He had no idea how close he was to treading on sensitive ground, but now wasn’t the time for that. He wanted her and she oh so much wanted him. Her messed-up head and stupid ex didn’t get to be a part of this moment. She could push past that and just take what she wanted without it getting complicated.
“You want to kiss me.” She grinned. “Let’s focus on that.”
“Is that all you heard?” He groaned again, this time weaker, and she laughed as he wrapped his arms around her. “You were amazing today, you know? Even though you wobbled a bit. You were still brave and strong. And for that, you get a goodnight kiss. But that’s it. I’m heading to my room in a few minutes to have a very cold shower.”
“That’s no fun,” she said softly. Warmly, though, too, because that didn’t sound like a bad idea, actually.
She had six weeks to wear down his defences. Six weeks of teasing him into kisses in dark corners.
It was a refreshing change to not feel pressured into anything more, and she wouldn’t dwell on how much she wanted more more more with Dean.
His lips brushed hers, his breath warm against her mouth. “Good night, princess.”
“Good night…” she started to say, trailing off as he teased her lips slightly apart with the tip of his tongue before easing back to scan her face one last time. If he was looking for permission, he had it in spades.
The full, warm press of his mouth against hers, more firmly this time, was enough to make her head spin. His hands were hot everywhere he touched, and she was ready to crawl out of her skin with need when he cupped her face and held her still.
Anticipation burst into delicious, disorienting pulls of his lips, commanding slides of his tongue against skin, just a lick at first, a question against her bottom lip.