Love Song (Rocked by Love #2)

by Susan Scott Shelley

  Hugh blushed deep red. "Hey, guys."

  "How long have you been playing music?"

  "Since I was a kid. Age five for singing, and ten years old for guitar."

  "Cool. And the song you submitted in your demo was Lights Out. We're ready to hear you rock it." He took a seat. "Show me what you've got."

  They waited a full minute. Hugh's hands were shaking and his cheeks flushed scarlet. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Then, he shook himself. "Sorry, guys."

  He rubbed his hands over his face. Took another quick breath, and opened his mouth, but again no words came out.

  Luke nodded. "Relax, bud. It's cool. Try again."

  And... Hugh looked at him, took a breath, opened his mouth, and... nothing.

  Luke exchanged a glance with Ivan and frowned. How serious was this case of stage fright? "You okay, Hugh?"

  "Sorry, I guess it's nerves." Hugh shoved his hair out of his face. "I don't usually get like this. But you're you. I didn't even get this nervous when I met Rob Hawke at his show last month."

  At Rob's name, Audrey flashed into Luke's mind. Just the mention of Rob nearly set him off. If it weren't for Rob, Audrey wouldn't be jaded against him. He had to fix what had happened. Right now. Luke bolted up out of his chair and two sets of eyes pinned him in place. Much as he wanted, no needed, to make things right with Audrey, he couldn't run out on Hugh. Not when the kid reminded him so much of himself.

  "I'm... sorry." The young singer stood at the center of the room, shoulders hunched, staring at the floor.

  Luke murmured to Ivan, "Cut the recording."

  Setting aside his coffee, Luke rose. Zander had recently begun mentoring a young guitarist. Luke was more than happy to do something similar here. "Hugh, you're fine, bud. Take a deep breath, hold it for four counts and then let it out in eight counts. And then do it again. Do you know the words to Cut Down?"

  One of The Fury's most well-known songs, thanks to use in commercials and a popular video game, it had a good beat and would suit Hugh's voice well.

  In the midst of the slow exhale, Hugh nodded.

  "Cool. We're singing it together." He queued it up in his phone, joined Hugh, and patted his shoulder. "If you get nervous, just close your eyes. That always helped me. Then, it isn't any different than singing in the shower."

  "Do you still get nervous?" Interest overtook embarrassment and Hugh looked Luke straight in the eyes.

  "Hell, yeah. I have to do breathing exercises before every show to calm down. Hook me up with your email address and I'll send them to you. I'll also show them to you when we're finished for the day."

  "Thanks, man. I really want this opportunity. I don't usually get nervous, but it's you. You're my idol." Hugh's grateful smile touched off one of his own. Being able to fix something made him feel better.

  When their cue came, he started and Hugh joined in, eyes closed for several beats. The kid had a decent voice. Halfway through, he relaxed enough to look at Luke. Luke smiled and nodded and gave him a thumbs up. Nerves still lurked, but not enough to freeze him. By the time the last note faded, Hugh was grinning.

  So was Luke. "That was awesome, man. Now can you sing Lights Out?"

  Hugh nodded.

  Luke returned to his seat and gestured for Ivan to begin recording again. And Hugh belted out the lyrics in perfect pitch.

  Luke wasn't sure who was more proud when the song finished—Hugh or him. "Fuck yeah, man. Now that's the way to do it."

  Hugh accepted Luke's high-five with a huge grin. "Thanks, Luke. I appreciate the support. Can I take you guys to lunch or something?"

  "Lunch is good. My treat, though." He liked Hugh and wanted some extra time to see if the kid would mesh well with his band mates.

  Throughout lunch, his phone buzzed with message alert after message alert but none were from Audrey. Too many times during the past few days, he'd drafted messages to her only to later delete them. Once he got home, they were going to talk. And like it or not, he wasn't leaving until she listened.

  Chapter Five

  Audrey trudged into her apartment, thoughts as dark as the clouds rolling across the nighttime sky. The scent of impending rain hung heavy in the air. She was in the mood for a good, drenching thunderstorm. A full Saturday spent at the studio, without Renee, had been exhausting. Her assistant was down for the count with a nasty head cold, and she'd been left dealing with last-minute issues for the show, chasing down two misplaced invoices, and working a fourteen-hour day with battered concentration thanks to a construction crew working on the shop next door.

  She cranked up the A/C, shed her work clothes, pulled on a yellow tank top and denim cut-offs, and wound her hair into a messy topknot. Slowly, the tension seeped out of her system.

  Sketchbook in hand, she padded barefoot into the living room and settled onto the chair by the window for her Saturday night ritual of sketching new designs. As raindrops pelted the window, her pencil formed quick lines across the page. Not clothes or more logo designs for Furious Records—a sketch of Luke's face.

  He was due back from Nashville on Sunday afternoon. She'd thought about him constantly since that night at the club. Missing him didn't mean she should contact him, or that being involved was the best thing for them. Best to leave their relationship professional.

  Brendan, Landry, Zander, and Luke had all signed off on one of the logo designs. Luke had forwarded the email to her two days earlier. She still wanted to give them a few more options. Turning to a blank page, she sketched the name in all caps, then added aggressive strokes underneath. Then played with different borders—squares, circles, shaded boxes. Eventually, she'd move to the design software in her computer. But for her, starting by hand was always best.

  The door buzzer sounded, jarring her out of her musing. Who would be out there at ten o'clock at night? She set her sketch pad aside and pressed the talk button. "Yes?"

  "It's me." Luke's voice rumbled through the speaker.

  Her pulse jumped. Her hands flew to her hair and met the hasty knot. Damn it, she wasn't ready. "Come on up."

  She spent the next minute rushing around her apartment, trying to decide whether to straighten up her place or her appearance. Too soon, a knock sounded. Heart beating fast, she opened the door.

  Raindrops dotted Luke's blue t-shirt. His quietly assessing gaze traveled down her body and up in one smooth move. "You're always in heels. I didn't realize how small you are without them."

  She resisted the urge to defend her height or apologize for her super casual appearance. Though, from the way he was looking at her, he didn't seem to mind. "I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow."

  "I was able to get on an earlier flight." He shifted his hold on his travel bag.

  "Oh." She bit her lip then stepped back and gestured to her living room. "Want to come in?"

  "I didn't take a cab all the way over here from the airport just to stand in the hall."

  "If you're going to be sarcastic, you can get back in that cab and leave."

  He inched closer without crossing the threshold and loosely entwined his fingers between hers. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day. A long several days. And a miserable flight. I do want to come in."

  She nodded and stepped back, maintaining their tenuous connection. Keeping hold of her hand, he followed her over the threshold and shut the door at his back.

  "Can I have my hand back now?"

  "I like it where it is." He dropped his bag on the floor and raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed her fingers.

  The sensation traveled all the way to her toes. She couldn't give in to it. "Luke."

  He opened her hand and his lips kissed her palm and then moved to her wrist. The roughness of his beard added to the tingling. "Your pulse is jumping."

  "Maybe I'm angry."

  His blue eyes stared into hers. He lifted an eyebrow and then gave her a half-smile. "Maybe you are. Maybe it's something more. Maybe you want to see what it's like if I k
iss you."

  Her lips parted and her gaze fell to his mouth.

  "Because I want to see what it's like." His other hand caressed the bare skin of her forearm.

  She wanted to back up, but somehow her back was against the door, and he was so wonderfully near. "No."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I might..." They needed to talk. This physical reaction didn't solve anything.

  He shifted until mere inches separated them. "You might what?"

  Hell, she'd have to be honest. "I might not want to stop."

  ***

  Luke stared into the wide blue eyes gazing up at him. Audrey's chest rose and fell in fast breaths. He inhaled, and her subtle spicy floral scent beckoned him closer. "I might not want to stop either. In fact, I know I won't. What's wrong with that?"

  "It's not the answer."

  "Maybe it's the only answer."

  Her gaze jumped from his eyes to his mouth, then back and forth again. She lifted her hand to his chest and her fingers tightened, gripping his shirt. Vulnerability swirled in her eyes and she bit her lip. He knew that look—hesitation and consideration. He lowered their joined hands to his side and raised his other hand to cup her cheek.

  Audrey's lips parted and her head tilted into his palm.

  He leaned down, until they were a breath apart, and then hovered, savoring the anticipation. He'd been waiting three years for this moment. They'd only get one first kiss.

  Her hand tugged on his shirt, pulling him in. Luke closed the distance. Audrey's lips were as soft as silk and as warm as spiced cider. He tasted a trace of vanilla. Like his favorite double-shot espresso coffee, she spiked his blood. When her tongue met his, he groaned and slanted his lips, seeking more access. Wet strokes drove his need higher, and then Audrey dragged his lower lip between her teeth. He leaned more of his weight into her, desperate to get closer.

  Her body, warm and lush, molded to his form. With a soft sigh, she released his shirt to touch his neck, and then dug her fingers into his hair. Her other hand traced patterns on his back as she explored his muscles.

  The light touches and firmer holds drove him crazy. He needed more. Now.

  His hand glided from her cheek, down her side, bypassing the curves he intended to slowly uncover when need wasn't wrecking his concentration. He found the small of her back and the strip of skin where her waistband met the bottom hem of her shirt. A teasing bit of skin. Soft. Warm. Sexy.

  Audrey went lax when his fingers stroked that spot. She broke the kiss and leaned her head against the door. "So good."

  He lifted his gaze from the pulse jumping in her neck and smiled at the blissed-out ease in her expression. He flexed his hand, fingers spread wide, over her skin, covering more of that satin-softness. She arched her back, pressing her torso into his, and he didn't try to hide how much she'd affected him—from the full length of his arousal, to his shaking hands, and his racing heartbeat.

  On a moan, her eyes opened. She watched him as her hips lifted and pressed into his. He held her there while his pulse throbbed and his blood hummed.

  She'd completely rocked his world with that kiss. Could she really walk away from their connection? Before things went too far, he needed to make sure they were on the same page. He eased back, until they were no longer touching anywhere except the hands joined at his side. "We need to talk."

  "We do." She looked as dazed as he felt. "Want some wine?"

  He nodded and followed her through her tiny apartment. Audrey's space was exactly like her—understated and elegant. An oversize open bookcase filled with tons of design books and colored glass bowls split the room in half, dividing living room and bedroom. Gauzy pale pink curtains surrounding the bed allowed even more privacy for her sleeping space.

  Through the curtains, the bed, soft and white like a cloud, was covered with pale pink pillows. He pictured them on the bed, enclosed in the sheer seclusion, as he worshiped her body. But they'd never get there if they didn't hash out their problem here.

  As his body reacted to his horizontal fantasy, he turned his attention back to the living room. Several dark frames in various sizes decorated the white walls. Throw pillows dotted with sequins lined the deep brown couch. His fantasy switched to them laying on the couch. Damn it, he could picture them together everywhere. He adjusted his jeans and followed her into the kitchen.

  The kitchenette was one-tenth the size of the kitchen in his home. Audrey poured white wine into two stemless wine glasses. On the counter, a large bouquet of red roses spilled out of an overfilled crystal vase. The sweet fragrance filled the small space.

  "Who sent you the flowers? A satisfied client?" Shit. He'd never sent flowers after she'd designed something for him. Paid promptly—always. Recommended her to others—all the time. Extra thanks through flowers—no.

  A blush crept into her cheeks and then she frowned at the vase. "Not exactly. But it's not a big deal."

  He didn't like that answer. Without waiting for her to offer more information, he plucked the card from the blooms and read the note. Love can grow. - Dante

  Muscles tensed, he fought to release his tight jaw. He dropped the note on the counter and pictured finding the guy and shoving the thorny stems down his throat. "Why is he sending you flowers?"

  "I don't know. They arrived yesterday. I haven't spoken to him since we broke up."

  What if his actions at the club caused her to want to run back to Dante? His gut twisted at the idea of life without her again. But if that was what she wanted, he'd have to find a way to let her go. "Answer me this—do you want to get back together with him?"

  She shook her head without hesitation. "No."

  The tension in his chest eased. "Then why keep the flowers?"

  "I like flowers and it seemed a waste to throw them away."

  "You don't have a neighbor who might enjoy them?" He realized he was being a dick the second the words left his mouth.

  A frustrated sound worked free from her throat. "Except for the day you arrived, I've been working fourteen-hour days for the past two weeks. Excuse me for being too exhausted for that idea to occur to me." Abandoning the wine, she stepped around him and stalked into the living room.

  He followed, and then stopped at the sight of her sitting on the couch, rubbing her temples. She looked exhausted. How had he missed the dark circles under her eyes? The anger drained out of him. "I don't want to fight with you."

  "Me either." With a sigh, she lowered her hands. "I'm sorry the roses upset you. I'll get rid of them in the morning."

  That sounded promising... He sank onto the cushion beside her. "Does that mean you've had time to think about us?"

  "With the way we left things the other night... Even up until tonight, I really didn't know what to do. I don't want to hurt either of us. I couldn't say much of anything at the club because I was in front of the fans and didn't want my words splashed all over the internet. But we're alone now. I want the man I'm with to actually be with me. What the heck am I supposed to do if you keep putting the fans first?"

  "I should've done a better job about keeping you with me. I also should've been better about cutting short the time I spent with the fans. It's not an excuse, but after all that happened on the last tour, I'm afraid of doing something that might further strain the fans' relationship with the band." He shrugged and then sighed. "And, I always think about how there might be one person who really needs to see me, and how it might really matter that we talked. Fans have told us as much, and I like feeling like I've made a positive difference, especially when I've been in the headlines too many times for the wrong reasons."

  Hands clasped, she studied him for a long moment. "I feel sort of the same way when someone tells me that something I've designed makes them feel the best they've ever felt about themselves. You do make a difference with your music. You touch a lot of people. I don't want to stand in your way or stop you from doing what you need to do. But I also need to feel like I'm a priority in your life. You kn
ow what happened with Rob. I won't go through that again. "

  He rested his hand over hers on her lap. "In trying to fix my mistakes with the fans, I keep creating more with you. You're more important than anyone else. I promise to be better about keeping our time as our time."

  "I'm going to hold you to that. A relationship means putting each other first. Yes, we both have demanding jobs and obligations, but we need to put each other first. If we don't, that's a deal breaker for me."

  "I want to be the man you need. Please let me show you that I can be." He wanted to see her smile, and fuck, he needed to hold her again. "Next time, I'll handcuff myself to you so the mob can't come between us. Or if we really need some privacy, we can wear disguises."

  Her lips curved in the start of a smile. "When you say that, I'm picturing you in a fedora and trench coat, like one of those hard-boiled detectives in a nineteen-thirties movie."

  "I wouldn't mind seeing you in a trench coat, especially if you wore nothing underneath it." He wiggled his brows at her and she tossed one of her throw pillows at his head. Pale pink sequins attached to the fuzzy pillow struck his chin and tangled in his beard.

  He counter-attacked, lobbing a pillow in her direction, and landing a hit. She came at him with a one-two punch, a pillow in each hand, scoring a hit on his head and stomach. A blur of arcing pillows followed, raining down upon him. He counted at least ten—how many did she have? He gave as good as he got, tossing the soft missiles back as soon as they landed.

  Laughing, panting, Audrey spun away and snatched a large white pillow from the chair by the window. She launched onto the couch, aiming for his side.

  In defense, Luke grabbed her around the waist and rolled her beneath him. He locked his hands around her wrists and pressed her arms over her head, into the pillows he'd stockpiled at the end of the couch. "Give up."

  She blew a stray hair out of her face and gave a defiant toss of her head. "Never."

  He grinned down at her as lightning flashed outside the window and rain battered the windows and thunder rumbled across the sky. "I missed you, Sunshine."