by Kacey Shea
“A man. I was prepared to kick our gardener’s ass.”
She shakes her head and pins me with a glare as she hands Tony off to Lex and stomps forward. “One. You need to learn the names of our staff. And two. If I want to see a man, that’s my business, not yours. And you’ll be supportive.”
Nothing like being put in my place by my mother in front of my girlfriend. I sneak a glance at Lexi to find her eyes dancing with quiet laughter. So glad she finds this amusing. “So, you’re not seeing anyone?”
“Trent!” Both Lexi and Mom shout in unison, and I drop my gaze to the floor.
“Sorry, Mom,” I mumble.
“Apology accepted,” she says sternly and then wraps her arms around my waist to squeeze me tightly. “I’m glad you’re home. I’m happy you’re happy. Lexi’s perfect.”
I return her embrace and kiss the top of her head. “Alright, let me see this fluff ball . . .” Slinging my arm around her shoulder, we walk over to Lexi.
“His name’s Tony, but I was thinking of calling him Mr. T.” She gazes at him with adoration. “Ha! Mr. T and Mr. Trent, both of my boys. Isn’t that cute?”
“No!” I shout, meeting Lexi’s alarmed stare.
“What’s wrong with Mr. T?”
“He’s too cute for such a tough nickname.” And I add a grumbled, “And there’s only one Mister in this house.”
I grab the tiny thing from Lexi’s arms. “Aren’t you, Tony? You don’t wear big gold chains, and you’re too tiny to be tough.” It irritates me that I have to fight the urge to drop my voice and coo to this dog like a baby. “What kind of dog is this? Please tell me it grows.”
“He’s a Pekingese, and of course he’ll grow. Another four to six pounds.”
“He looks like a rat.”
“He’s beautiful. I think he looks like a little lion.” She takes him from my hands. “Don’t be jealous of your little brother.”
“He’s a dog.”
“We’ve already established that fact, son.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “You excited for the shows this weekend?”
I stand next to Lexi and weave my fingers with hers. “Of course. You know I love playing the Staples Center. You’re coming tonight and tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” she says and then looks to Lexi. “Lexi, is your mother coming, too?”
Lexi’s fingers tighten around mine for a beat. “I invited her, but I’m not sure. She’s taking my father’s death hard.” That’s an understatement. Unfortunately, we’ve grown used to Lori’s drunken calls, the ones in which she spits vile words and accusations at her daughter, only to follow them the next morning with a sobbing apology and needy, emotionally draining conversation. Lexi refuses to give up on her mother, but she’s also maintaining a safe distance—not an easy task. We still haven’t told her mom about Opal. Lexi’s certain she can’t handle the surprise. But I often wonder if she’s trying to keep Opal safe from Lori’s hate.
My mom nods with understanding, “If you need anything, Lexi. Or if there’s anything I can do to help with your mom, you let me know, okay?”
“Thank you.” Lexi’s hand trembles in mine and I hold her tighter. She still struggles to lean on others, and while my mom would say the same to Sean or Austin, Lexi’s not used to that sort of concern. The kind offered freely without expectation.
“Well, we better head out. Bedo called a band meeting and Lex has sound check first,” I say. Mom nods before coming over to give us each a hug. We say our good-byes and my mom promises to come backstage after the show. When we’re back in the car, I turn my chin to study Lexi’s demeanor.
“She’s nice.” Lexi offers, quickly amending, “Not that I expected anything else.”
“But that dog. He’s ugly, right?”
“What? No! He’s so cute!” she says as if she actually believes the words.
I raise an eyebrow. “Tell me you’re joking. There’s no way. That’s a face only a mother could love.”
“Trent.” She rests her chin atop one hand and her lips pull up with a hint of a smile. “Are you jealous of a puppy?”
“What? No!”
“You are, aren’t you? Can’t handle not being number one. God, you’re such a momma’s boy.” She laughs and shakes her head.
“I have no clue what you mean.” I start the car and turn out of the drive. Her soft laughter pulls her smile wider and I try to keep my own at bay. She laughs again and I finally give in to a grin. “Fine. I admit I’m a little attached to my mother. But I can’t really be blamed. I mean, I’m her one and only, and look at me. I’m practically perfect.”
“Uh huh.” She snickers. “Until Tony came along.”
“He’s a dog!”
“Only makes this more comical.” She leans over the center console and rubs her hand along my thigh. “That’s okay. I still love you, baby.”
“Thank fuck for that,” I say, my eyes on the road while her laughter wraps around my heart like an anchor. One I never want to escape.
We park in the back lot of the arena and Lexi and I make our way inside to find the rest of the band.
“Hey, lovers,” Austin calls down the hallway. Coffee cup in hand, he tips his head to the left. “We’re in there.”
“Thanks, man,” I say and then we he turns to walk away, I shout back. “Where are you going?”
“Got myself a hot date.”
“Right now?” I pull the door open and hold it so Lexi can pass.
Austin turns around, walking backward and flips me the bird. “I’m just taking a shit, dumbass.”
“Here he is! Someone roll out the red carpet!” Bedo jokes, but lately there’s an edge to his teasing. Either that or I’m hypersensitive, on guard after how things went down the day Richie passed.
“I’m on time. You fuckers are early,” I retort and take a seat, pulling Lexi onto my lap before she can take the empty space next to Sean.
Bedo’s lips pull into a grin that won’t leave his face, while his leg bounces and the gold of his chain jingles against his chest.
“What gives? You look happier than a kid in a candy store.” I’ve never seen Bedo like this. He doesn’t even have his phone in hand. I’m not sure aliens haven’t taken over his body.
“We wait for Austin.” He reaches in his back pocket and produces a stick of gum, unwrapping it to chew with an annoying smack.
“Do you want me to leave?” Lexi asks, because she’s considerate of the band and the need to give us space.
“No.” Bedo works the gum. “You stay.”
Lexi turns her chin so Bedo doesn’t see when she rolls her eyes, and Sean chuckles. Despite Bedo’s weirdness there’s a lightness about today. After being on tour for three months, it feels amazing to be back in LA for our final two shows. I booked a suite at the Ritz for the next three nights, wanting Lexi all to myself before she heads to Texas for a month of recording.
The door groans open and Austin swaggers inside.
Bedo stands from his chair. “Jesus. That took you long enough,” he mutters. The gold ring on his right hand catches the light when he motions for Austin to take a seat.
“Didn’t know I was being timed,” Austin complains.
Bedo clears his throat, his eyes widen with his smile, and he commands all our attention when he speaks. “How do you guys feel about the Grammys?”
“You’re shitting us,” Sean says.
“No. Don’t be a tease.” Austin shakes his head.
“Nothing’s official, but keep February clear. I’d bet my first born son you’ll be performing.”
Lexi squeezes my hand when I laugh and call him out, “Bedo, you don’t have any children.”
He claps his hands together, pointing them at me. “But if I did, I’d bet them. That’s how sure I am.”
“Wow.” I lean back into my seat, not even knowing how to process this.
“Fuck,” Austin swears.
“That’s amazing.” Lexi grins. “Congrat
s.” Her joy is unbridled, without jealousy or envy.
“But that’s not all.” Bedo’s smile stretches so wide I’m afraid his face might break. “There’ve been rumors . . .”
“The good kind or did they catch on to Austin’s fetish for wearing high heels,” Sean shouts out.
“Fuck you. I like my heels on my hookers.” Austin punches Sean’s arm.
“You all are idiots,” Lexi mutters.
“We are. But you love us, Lexi.” Sean blows her a kiss.
“I love Trent. I tolerate your dumb asses.” She rolls her eyes.
“She’s such an angel when she talks like that.” I kiss her neck, brushing my tongue along the skin. She shivers, pushing away my head with a glare that warns me to save it for later.
“Okay, okay, enough clowning around,” Bedo says and he’s back. The phone is out like an extra appendage as he swipes the screen. “Just thought you’d be interested to know you guys are serious contenders.”
“For what, exactly?” Austin leans forward, his arms resting on his knees.
“A Grammy nomination.”
Wait. What? There’s a rustle as we all sit up straight, perking at even the mention.
“Which single is getting the buzz?” Austin asks.
“Think bigger,” Bedo pops.
I shake my head, my hand raking through my hair as I try to wrap my mind around the prospect. “Shit. I’m almost scared to say it. Isn’t that bad luck.”
Bedo grins, again, glancing up from his cell. “I told you I had good news. And the label wants to push harder, capitalize on the opportunity. I know you thought you had a month off before we take this tour overseas, but instead we’ll be recording a new single.”
Shit. That’s not gonna go over well. We’ve been working hard, but we also need some time apart, especially before we spend a solid two months together again. Bedo’s eyes widen, and I’m sure he’s expecting a chorus of applause, but it’s hard to get excited about being locked in a studio right now. We all had trips planned. I was going to surprise Lexi one of the weekends.
A glance around the group confirms I’m not the only one who feels this way. “Dude. Bedo, I’m happy, but we need a break,” I say.
“Seriously, you don’t understand what it’s like to listen to those two go at it every night.” Austin points and Lexi pulls away from my touch.
“Damn it, Austin, I told you guys to use headphones,” I say.
“You could hear us?” Lexi covers her face with her hands. “Oh, God.”
“Yeah, and you sounded just like that. On repeat.” A chuckle leaves Sean’s lips.
“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God! Yes, Trent!” Austin mimics in an exaggerated pitchy scream.
I reach for the first thing I find, a water bottle, and chuck it at him.
“Fuck!” he cries when it smacks his chest.
“Fine!” Bedo shouts. “Two weeks off. Then you’re in the studio. It’s only one single. Shouldn’t take you too long. But there’s one other thing . . .”
There’s a collective groan because Bedo’s not smiling at all this time, and I’m not sure what anvil he’s got left to drop.
“The bad news.” His lips pinch together as he meets my stare. “Off Track Records wants a permanent drummer. I’ve been putting off the issue for months, but they’re done waiting. We need to make a decision.”
Austin groans. “Dude. That’s major. Even if we start looking now, it basically eats up our entire break.”
“I booked a trip to Maui.” Sean sinks into his chair with a frown.
Austin nods. “Yeah, that’s not cool.”
“What about Iz?” I interrupt.
Bedo tilts his head. “I thought he was off the table.”
“He was, before this tour. But I think he’s more than proven himself. He might be an ugly fucker, but the man can play. I think he’s earned his place, but that’s just my opinion. Austin?”
“He’s old as fuck too, but I’m okay with that.”
“Sean?”
“He’s a good guy, even with the . . .” Sean pinches his fingers around an imaginary joint and mimes an inhale.
“That’s settled then. I’ll draft up the offer before tonight’s show.” Bedo stands and walks to the door. With his hand on the knob, he turns to narrow his gaze. “Thanks, guys. This tour might be coming to a close, but we only go up from here. We’re just getting started, I hope you realize that. Opportunity is on the horizon.” He nods once. “Bring it tonight. LA loves to rock.”
“How’s everyone feeling tonight?” I shout into the microphone. The lights beat down, the heat is thick, and I set down my Fender so I can pull my shirt off. Screams rise with the motion, and as entertaining as I find my fans’ affection for my bare chest, there’s only one woman’s attention I care about.
I glance at the guys, strap on my guitar, and speak into the mic as planned. “So, we have a special surprise for you tonight. You guys like surprises?”
My smile pulls wide at their enthusiastic applause.
“That’s what I thought. So, there’s an announcement I’d like to make, but I need a little help from our opener. Lexi Marx.” I turn, holding up a hand to shield my eyes from the stage lights. I know she’s backstage, in the wings, waiting and watching.
Turning back to the audience, I enlist their assistance. “Maybe she needs a little encouragement. Lexi Marx. Lexi Marx . . .” They take over the chant and I turn to wait. Iz taps the bass pedal to the beat, Austin calls out Lexi’s name with our fans, and Sean throws up a fist, his head rocking in time.
When those black boots and fishnets hits the stage, attached to a very annoyed glare, my smile grows so wide it hurts my face. The crew runs out and sets up a second mic next to mine. I can’t help but wrap my arms around her waist and drop a kiss on her head.
“What is this?” Lexi reaches up on her toes to shout in my ear.
“Just go with it,” I say and hold her hand, strutting back to the mics with her by my side.
Austin strums his guitar, Iz crashes the cymbal, and I use my hands to quiet the cheers of the now raucous crowd. I step up to the mic but my eyes remain fixed on my girl. “So, we met Lexi at the beginning of this tour. I’ll go on record that she’s the first chick singer I’ve ever dug. And that has nothing to do with the rumors we’re dating.”
She rolls her eyes and the crowd cheers louder.
“Because we are. Dating. And I love this woman so damn hard, I want everyone to know it. The guys and I came up with a little surprise. A way to say thank you for putting up with our shit this entire tour. For letting me in when I know you’d rather not. For being the best thing in my life. For turning me into some lovesick fool when I used to be immune. For loving me back the way I love you.”
Iz bangs his sticks together and counts us off. Austin and Sean join in with the recognizable melody. We grunge it up, because we’re Three Ugly Guys and that’s what we do, but Richard Marx has nothing on this performance.
The words leave my mouth, filled with everything I am, and Lexi’s gaze doesn’t leave mine as I sing to her with a promise I’ll never break. When we get to the chorus, she smiles and even sings along. With everything I am I belt out the guarantee that wherever she goes, and whatever she does, I’ll always be waiting for her. She could break my heart, say anything and try to push me away. I’ll always be hers. This eighties rock ballad, however cheesy some might think, perfectly echoes my feelings for her.
Her eyes widen and blink with every word. I know she won’t cry before an audience, but she wants to. Not because she’s sad or even scared, but because she feels this too. Every time my heart beats, it beats for her. She’s my world tour, my greatest award, better than any bestselling album or performance. I never intended to fall in love. I never wished for this, but Lexi turned my best laid plans upside down. She showed me when life gets off track, sometimes a little detour is all it takes to set things right.
Thank you
Dear Reader
,
Thank you for choosing to spend your time reading Detour. I hope you’ve enjoyed Trent and Lexi’s story and are ready for more! Each band member will be getting their own happy ever after, and Sean’s story is up next. Be sure and sign up for my newsletter so you never miss a new release. Also, don’t miss the big giveaway—a $100 gift card and signed paperback—to celebrate Detour! You can find details for both on my website www.kaceysheabooks.com.
If you’ve read the Uncovering Love series, then you’ve already met the Three Ugly Guys. Funny enough, they were supposed to be side characters as well as a tip of the hat to something from my personal life. You see, many years ago my husband was in a band, and that band was named Three Ugly Guys. They were great! But nothing like the tatted up bad boy rock stars in my fictional world. The more I wrote about “the band” I knew they had to have their own spinoff series (thanks to Megan for asking for Trent’s book).
As always, thank you for your support, and for spending time with my characters. If you’d like to help this book reach others, please consider leaving an honest review on Amazon, or telling a friend. I am forever grateful for readers like you.
Much love,
Kacey
Enjoy the first few chapters of Caught in the Flames, Kacey Shea’s firefighter contemporary romance available now:
I hate firemen.
I can’t stand their cocky as hell, arrogant, self-absorbed, oh-look-at-me I-can climb-ladders-and-play-with-my-hose goddamn attitudes. As if putting your life on the line and saving people on a daily basis gives you the right to do whatever the hell you want?
Which is why I’m standing outside my home, clad in a pair of sweatpants and a worn college T-shirt, debating whether I need to make this call. I really don’t want to make the call, but it seems the universe has other plans. Thick black smoke plumes from the back of my house.
Fuck!
Cell in hand, I punch the dreaded numbers.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
“My house is on fire.” I rattle off the address.