by Mari Carr
Again, Sky cut her off. “It would all be in good fun,” he said quickly. “With a few harmless wagers involved to make it interesting, of course.”
Sky’s mention of a bet opened the floodgates and she watched several patrons walk over to join them.
“Well, a contest sounds like a fine time,” Pop said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “What do you say we set the stakes?”
Sky rose from the booth and followed Pop to a table in the center of the pub. Five of her father’s cronies and both her brothers joined them and she was struck by the fact they looked like the United Nations entering into peace negotiations.
“There was this game I used to play with some friends of mine when we were kids at summer camp,” Sky said. He turned and beckoned her over. She grudgingly crossed the room. Clearly she wasn’t going to escape this night without participating in whatever foolishness Sky had in mind.
“What sort of game?” Pop asked.
“Someone picks a word, any word, and Teagan and I take turns singing famous songs that contain that word in the lyrics. The game is over when one of us can’t think of another song.”
“And this is supposed to prove what?” Teagan asked.
“You don’t think much of my musical knowledge. I’m going to prove to you that I know a thing or two. Besides, it’s the wager that’s going to settle our true differences, not the contest.”
“If you think I’m going to let you win my song in some stupid contest—”
Sky held up a hand to stop her. “I don’t want the song anymore.”
“You don’t?” she asked, confused by his easy capitulation.
He shook his head. “Perhaps I should clarify. I don’t just want that song. If I win, you agree to help me write all the songs for my new album.”
Her mouth dropped open and she physically fought to close it again. The gleam in Pop’s eyes told her he not only approved of the stakes, but she feared he was suddenly hoping she’d lose.
“Think of it, Ruby. The Universe singing your songs. Your words and music on the radio.” Pop was beaming.
Sky grinned at her and she knew Pop had justified Sky’s belief that she should be reaching for the gold and aspiring to greater heights than she was currently achieving.
“And if I win?” she asked.
“What do you want?” Sky wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he spoke and she rolled her eyes.
“The Universe is doing a concert here in a few weeks, right?”
He nodded.
“I want your portion of the proceeds from the concert,” she replied.
He frowned. “So money is important to you?”
“Not for me,” she added. “I volunteer at a nursing home here in the city. It opens its doors to elderly people who can’t afford proper care on their own. The roof is leaky and they’re in serious need of some modern conveniences. If I win, you give the money you make on the concert to them.”
Sky smiled. “I suppose you give music lessons to the old people as well? Another part of your career?”
She thought she should take offense at his words, but she could tell he wasn’t insulting her. She thought for a moment he seemed impressed, perhaps even moved.
“Music can be wonderful medicine for the soul.”
“I agree,” he said.
Ewan moved forward. “What’s to keep one of the singers from stalling too long? I mean, we could be here all night waiting for one or both of them to think of a song.”
“Good point,” Tris added. “There needs to be a time limit. Say, three minutes to come up with a song or you lose.”
Sky quickly agreed and she nodded, anxious to be done with the whole thing. “How much of the song do we have to sing?” she asked.
“Let’s say two lines of the lyrics and one of them has to include the word,” Sky answered.
“Fine.”
“Well, then,” Pop said gleefully. “It looks like we have ourselves a contest, boys.”
Teagan fought not to shake her head with disgust when the men began plopping their money down on the table—side wagers, Pop said, as they began arguing about odds.
“So all we need is a word,” Sky said.
“That’s easy,” Pop replied. “The word is ‘ruby’.”
She smiled at her father while her heart began to race. A simple contest was one thing. Given the fact she didn’t possess a competitive bone in her body, she usually never cared what the outcome was one way or the other. This time, she cared too much. Her hands felt clammy and she was slightly lightheaded. The nursing home could really use the money from Sky’s concert.
But more importantly, she didn’t want to lose. Not to Sky. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt that by losing to him, she’d be losing more than a few songs. Tonight could set in motion events that could change her whole life. Keira had accused her more than once of selling herself too short due to fear of the unknown, but she didn’t agree with her older sister. There was nothing wrong with enjoying her life as it was. She was perfectly content and she figured if she was happy, why seek a change that might make her unhappy? Put all her hopes and dreams into achieving something that might never happen?
“Shall we?” Sky gestured toward the stage and she watched as Tris placed another stool next to hers. She picked up her guitar and felt a strange warmth at the feeling of sharing the stage with Sky. She always performed solo and she wasn’t expecting the sense of camaraderie she felt when he joined her before their audience—such as it was. She shook her head to jar the silly thought loose. They were competitors, not partners. God, she really was overwrought.
“Ladies first,” he whispered when she hesitated.
She cleared her throat and sang the chorus of Pop’s favorite Stones song, Ruby Tuesday.
Sky shocked her by following up with one of her favorite songs by Tom Waits. Back and forth they sang, and each time she found herself impressed with the scope and variety of Sky’s song choices. While she performed lyrics by Helen Reddy and Johnny Cash, Sky contributed songs by Ray Charles, The Killers, even Seals and Croft.
As he sang a snippet of Ruby Baby by the Beach Boys, she realized that throughout their competition she’d fallen more and more in love with his voice. He really could sing. They’d shared her guitar, taking turns with it, and she marveled at his ability—hell, his incredible talent—with the instrument. She’d been an ass and she’d been terribly, terribly wrong. Sky was the real deal and she wasn’t looking forward to the humble pie she was going to have to eat at the end of this contest.
“Sixty seconds, Teagan,” Ewan prodded from his seat at the front table. He’d served as timekeeper throughout and his reminder brought her back to the present. It was her turn and she’d wasted all her thinking time lusting over Sky’s voice. She panicked when she realized she was also out of songs.
“Ten seconds,” Ewan said and she could hear the pleading tone as her brother sent her silent encouragement.
Finally, she shrugged and admitted defeat. “I can’t think of any more songs.” She turned to Sky with an outstretched hand. “You win.”
She expected him to gloat and was surprised when he simply stood quickly, took her hand and pulled her off the stage. She wondered about his sudden haste, especially when he leaned closer and whispered in her ear.
“Hide me.”
“What?”
“Hide me. Quick. Please.”
She reacted before she could think, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the short hallway off the bar to a small storage closet. He pulled her in behind him, shutting the door with surprising force.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“A few cars pulled up on the street as I sang that last song. I’m fairly sure the paparazzi have descended.”
“Paparazzi?”
He was saved from answering her question when Ewan opened the closet door and joined them in the tight space. “Given the odd tour you’ve requested from my sister, I’m assuming you s
potted the cameramen.”
“How many are there?” Sky asked.
“Too many,” Ewan replied.
“Shit. Front and back of building?”
“As far as I can tell, just the front. I take it you don’t want to be seen?” her brother asked.
“That would be an understatement. Have they seen you?” Sky asked Ewan.
“Why?” she and her brother asked in unison.
“I may need some help getting out of here, a decoy.”
Teagan looked from Ewan to Sky and realized there was a slight resemblance. They were definitely the same build and shared similar coloring.
“Okay. What do you have in mind?” her brother asked, clearly ready to lend a hand.
Sky whipped his shirt off and handed it to Ewan. “Put this on.”
Ewan complied, shedding his shirt quickly and laying it on the counter behind her. Teagan could see Sky’s mind working over the puzzle of how he could escape. He studied her for a moment and she wondered what was going through his mind.
“Can you gather a few things without being seen? Like a scarf and a change of clothes for Teagan?” Sky asked.
Ewan only hesitated for a moment. “It might take me a few minutes. You two stay here. I’ll see what I can do.” With that, Ewan left.
“Change of clothes?”
Sky nodded absentmindedly and she could see he was disturbed by the sudden turn of events.
Strangely, she felt afraid. “The paparazzi are a bad thing?”
“More like an annoying thing. Sort of like a swarm of fucking giant bloodsucking mosquitoes. Pardon my language. I thought I’d escaped the bastards. They’re supposed to be staking out my house in Palm Springs.”
“So now they’re stalking you here. Isn’t this all pretty commonplace for you?”
He sighed heavily and she felt her heart twinge at the sound. “Yeah, I guess so.”
He began to pull off the heavy fake beard he’d been sporting all night. As more and more of his face was revealed, Teagan felt all the breath leave her body. His features, no longer obscured by the ugly disguise, were shockingly, stunningly handsome.
“Oh,” she whispered when he pulled off the last piece.
He glanced up at the sound of her surprise and grinned. “Like what you see?” he asked in the cocky manner she was quickly becoming accustomed to.
“You do realize you sound like an asshole, right?”
“I’m a rock star, gypsy. It’s all part of the package.” His words were spoken lightly and she knew he was teasing.
“Yeah, well, knock it off. We’ve got bigger fish to fry. What are we supposed to do about the paparazzi?”
“I’ve been thinking about that and I have a plan. Sort of. As long as we act fast, I may be able to sneak out the back and make my way to the hotel without being spotted.”
“I can drive you if you’d like.” She figured she owed him the favor considering how rude she’d been in regards to his singing earlier.
“That could work,” he said, though she could tell he was distracted by his own plans. “Take off your clothes.”
“Ha,” she laughed. “In your dreams.” So much for her feelings of goodwill.
“Just your blouse and skirt, Teagan.”
“Oh my God. You are relentless. How many times do I have to tell you—”
“I want to wear them.”
She eyed him with serious concern and he laughed. “I’ll put them on and sneak out the back door. Believe me, this won’t be the first time I’ve worn something questionable to avoid those vultures.”
“And I guess I’m supposed to flit around in my bra and panties while the National Enquirer photographer snaps away?”
“You can wear Ewan’s shirt until he comes down with a change of clothes for you.”
“Why don’t you wait and wear those clothes?” she asked.
“Because I’m in a hurry and chances are good the paparazzi saw the backs of two people on the stage, you and me. Ewan can pretend he was me. I’m going to pretend I’m you.”
“And who do I get to be? Barbra Streisand?”
Sky looked at her with amusement. “Do you know any famous singers from this decade?”
“Only one—Sky Mitchell, and he’s a pain in the ass who’s done nothing but remind me why I don’t bother with contemporary musicians.”
“I’m hoping your family can distract the paparazzi while I get out of here. I don’t think you fully appreciate how relentless these cameramen are. I don’t have much time before they surround the place. Ewan will be here soon with something for you to wear. Shit, if it’s that big of a deal,” he stepped over to the shelf behind her, “here’s an apron too.”
“I’m supposed to wear Ewan’s shirt and an apron?”
“Gypsy, I’d prefer you hang out in this closet in nothing but your bra and panties until he gets back, but I suspect you have some sort of modesty to protect?”
“Well an apron’s not going to hide much.” She took the apron and put it back on the shelf while Sky picked up Ewan’s shirt.
“I’d like to make the move from the closet to the car as soon as Ewan gets back. He can put my clothes and ball cap on while I help him don the beard. Then he can go out into the pub for a drink while I make a beeline for the back door. I can hide there until it’s safe for you to come out and drive me to the hotel. Hopefully they’ll be distracted enough by Ewan that I can sneak out undetected.”
“So you think the paparazzi will think they’ve made a mistake and leave once they see Ewan,” she added.
“Yes. So long as none of those men out there give me away.”
“Pop’s friends would never do that. I have a sneaking suspicion you won their respect with that contest. Besides, they hate the press as a general rule—something about being old and Irish. I have no doubt they’ll protect you to the death.”
“I hope so. Fact remains, someone tipped them off about my whereabouts. There are very few people who know I’m in Maryland.”
“I don’t understand why you don’t just walk out there and be done with it?” she asked, wondering at his extreme attempts to avoid discovery.
“I need this break, this privacy. If they figure out I’m in Baltimore, I may as well go home. I’ve spent a week enjoying the sheer peace and quiet. I want more. Besides, you aren’t getting rid of me that easily. You lost the bet, remember? That means where I go, you go. How do you feel about paparazzi hounding you night and day while you try to write a dozen songs?”
“Turn off the lights.”
“Why?” he asked.
“If I’m about to strip down to my skivvies, it won’t be with you watching. We’ll make the clothes swap in the dark.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Just make sure you stay on your side of the closet. I don’t want to have to break any roaming fingers. I know you need those to play the guitar.”
“You know you’re going to fall into bed with me eventually. Why don’t we save all the fuss and get down to business now?” he asked, his voice oozing with a deep sensuality she didn’t want to acknowledge, despite the fact his words were obnoxious as hell.
“Gross. Are you going to turn off the lights or not?”
He gave her a cocky grin and reached back to flip the switch.
“Why don’t I trust you?” she asked when the room was plunged into darkness.
“Maybe because you suspect I have this devil inside prodding me to give you two minutes before turning the lights back on.”
“That’s it. Forget it. I’m not about to—”
“But you should know right now the gentlemanly part of my conscience won’t let me touch that light switch until you tell me to. Reach out.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to give Ewan’s shirt to you.”
“Oh. Okay,” she said as she felt around in front of her for the proffered clothing. Their hands met and she snatched the material from his grip quickly. She heard the unmistakable
sound of his zipper opening and she silently prayed neither of her brothers came back until they’d safely made the switch.
She hastily pulled her blouse over her head, struggling to put Ewan’s shirt on in the dark. She wasn’t sure when her hands started shaking. She tried to convince herself it was nerves and the chilly air in the small room. Her conscience refused to admit her sudden trembling could be based on any kind of misplaced desire for the arrogant rock star currently pushing all her buttons.
“Here,” she said once she was decently covered. Ewan surpassed her in height the year he turned thirteen. His large shirt hung to nearly mid-thigh on her.
Their hands met in the dark and she handed him her blouse and skirt. “I feel ridiculous,” she muttered.
“I’m the one about to plunge into cross-dressing and you feel ridiculous?” She could tell he was joking and she wondered what sort of life he led that it didn’t bother him to wear women’s clothing merely to escape a few cameras.
“You know, putting on a dress isn’t going to hide the fact that you’re a guy. Your face and hair will still show if anyone spots you.”
“Which is why I asked Ewan for a scarf. Okay, I’m dressed,” he said after a few moments. “You decent?”
“I guess so,” she said, not sure she wanted him to see her in just her brother’s T-shirt. She should have opted for the apron as well.
He turned on the lights and for a second she was blinded by the sudden brightness. Then she could see all too clearly—and she burst into laughter.
“Oh my God,” she gasped. Sky rolled his eyes at her response, but she could tell by his smile he didn’t mind her laughter.
Her giggles died when he took two steps toward her. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“You may find the image of me wearing your clothes funny, but seeing you in that T-shirt is seriously turning me on. Decided against the apron, eh?”
“I thought this would be decent enough.”
His eyes darkened seductively and she realized she’d been terribly wrong in that assumption. She sucked in a deep breath, startled when his gaze landed on her lips. She licked them, her mouth suddenly dry.
“Do that again,” he whispered.
“What?” she asked, her voice betraying her nervousness, her arousal.