“Yeah, I bet you are,” her father grumbled. “But has she told you that she won’t come into her trust fund until she’s twenty-five? And even then, I might have the lawyers change her access to it so she doesn’t blow it all on drugs.”
Her appetite vanished, leaving behind a ball of fire that churned in the pit of her stomach. She was over being scared of her father. Now she was just plain pissed off. She dropped her knife and fork on her plate with a clatter, gaining her father’s attention. “Daddy, that’s enough.”
“I’m only looking out for you, Becca. It’s not like you have the best track record when it comes to making decisions.”
“I know. You never let me forget I’m just like my mother.” She tossed her napkin on her plate and stood up. “But as far as I’m concerned, the worst decision my mother ever made was marrying you.”
The table fell silent, everyone watching the staring match between her and her father, waiting to see which one would yield first.
“Sit down, Rebecca, and quit making a scene,” he ordered.
“I knew this was a mistake.” She kicked her chair back and turned around. “I’m done.”
She made for the front door as quickly as she could without running, never once looking over her shoulder to see if anyone followed. She’d tried to make amends with her father, but it was very clear that she’d never please him.
The quicker she could get back to Manhattan, the better.
***
Ethan observed Becca’s mounting frustration all during the meal, so it was no surprise when she finally blew up. And this time, he didn’t stop her. She needed to stand up to him, to say the things she said, if only to get them out of her system. Once she let go of the anger, it would be easier to move forward.
Her father regarded him with cold, narrowed eyes. “You’d better leave before she drives off without you.”
“Doubt it.” Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys.
“Then let me make this clear,” Becca’s father replied, his voice hard and even. “I know you’re just after her money, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’ll never see a cent of it.”
“I’m perfectly fine with that, Mr. Shore.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, a gesture to show that he wasn’t going anywhere. “But just to clarify a few things—I don’t need her money. I have plenty of my own.”
He gulped back his hesitance and ignored the familiar tingle along his left arm. He was about to blow his cover for her. “Becca’s been wonderful about keeping my identity under wraps, but in this instance, I feel it’s necessary to tell you everything about me. My name is Ethan Kelly, and I was the lead singer of Ravinia’s Rejects.”
“No way,” her brother said, his eyes growing wider. “You guys are awesome.”
“Thanks, man.” He gave Jacob a grin before he turned back to her father. “As your son can tell you, we were doing pretty well before we lost our lead guitarist over the summer. Platinum records. World tours. Hell, the licensing alone for a fifteen second clip of one of our songs for a commercial was well into seven figures.”
Her father’s jaw slackened, but Ethan wasn’t finished yet. If he was going to drop a bomb on her family, he might as well make sure it was enough to shake her father up.
“Furthermore, Mr. Shore, I have a trust fund of my own, not that I need it. My father was Sean Kelly of Kelly Properties in Chicago. I’m sure you’ve heard of him, too. He was the one who outbid you for that Michigan Avenue property a few years ago.”
Becca’s father remained statue still, the only perceptible movement being the subtle flare of his nostrils. He was a man who wasn’t used to having his authority challenged, but Ethan wasn’t ready to yield.
Now was the time to hammer the message home. “So you see, I’m not with Becca because of her money. I’m with her because of the amazing person she is. She was there for me when I was coming to grips with the loss of my bandmate and best friend and she helped me get my life back on track. And for that, I’ll be eternally in her debt.”
He stood up, slow and easy, still very much in control of the situation. “Everyone sees Becca as the person she was three years ago, and very few are ready to accept that she’s grown and changed since then. They keep bringing up her past. But the thing is, we all make mistakes. It’s what we learn from them that matters. I’m the one who convinced her to come today, and I hope I didn’t make a mistake there.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on her and see if I can convince her to come back to the table.”
Ethan walked away to silence, but he held his head up a bit higher than usual. After months of hiding and doing everything he could to not be recognized, he’d finally come around to telling strangers who he was and taking credit for his accomplishments. It filled him with a sense of pride he hadn’t had since the early days of his career.
But he’d have time to revel in that discovery later. Right now, he needed to find Becca and convince her to give her father one more chance. It was one thing to avoid personal demons. It was another to completely squash them. He’d learned that with his music and felt freer than ever. Now he needed to help Becca reach that same level of liberation.
He ran into Mrs. Cordero in the foyer. “Where’s Becca?”
“Outside, by the woodpile.” She handed Ethan his coat. “You’re going to need this.”
“Thanks.” He slipped the coat on.
“You are most welcome.” She reached up and pinched his cheek. “I knew I liked you.”
He choked back a laugh. How many guests to the Shore home got a pinch from the housekeeper? But at least one person approved of him dating Becca.
The snow was coming down even harder than before, blurring the world in white. Fat, heavy flakes accumulated on his shoulders, his hair, his eyelashes. A good two inches had fallen since they’d arrived, and with night approaching, returning to Manhattan was out of the question. They were stuck there for the night.
Slow, rhythmic thunks harmonized with feminine grunts on the other side of the house. He followed it until he found Becca chopping wood. She drove the blade of the ax into a log, splitting it within a few blows, and replaced it with a new log.
He came up behind her and grabbed the ax when she lifted it over her shoulder. “Trying to be a lumberjack?”
She let go of the handle and spun around. “You idiot. You could’ve been hurt.”
“From this?” He held the ax like a guitar and pretended to play the blade.
He caught a hint of a smile on her face before she looked down and tried to pry the ax from his hands. “Give it back. I still need to work off some frustration.”
“How about we dance with it?” He twisted the handle and twirled her around so she was pinned against him. The exercise had heightened the scent of her perfume, and he lowered his nose to the place behind her ear to breathe it in. He swayed his hips from side to side, guiding hers to match his movements in a slow foxtrot. “See? This is much nicer than chopping wood.”
She stiffened and snatched the ax from him. “I need to split a few more logs.”
He retreated out of range and leaned against the house with his hands in his pockets while she resumed chopping the wood. “You should come back inside. It’s freezing out here.”
“I’m staying plenty warm from this.” She hefted the blade over her shoulder and brought it down with bone-chilling accuracy.
“But they’ll be serving dessert soon.”
She paused, and he hoped her love of sweets might entice her to return to her family. Then she shook her head. “Nope. If he’s going to be a complete asshole, then I won’t enjoy it.”
“Too bad you didn’t stick around. I think I might have convinced him I wasn’t some loser looking for a piggy bank.”
That made her stop. The ax fell from her hands as she turned to him. “What did you do?”
“I told him who I was.” He came closer until his ice-cold nose
was inches from her red one. “And I even threw in a little smackdown of my own thanks to a little tip from my brother.”
“But I thought you didn’t want people to know who you were.”
“I don’t, but in this case, I made an exception.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, tipping her head back so she looked up at him. “You’re worth it.”
Her face lit up just before he lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was slow and easy, but it didn’t lack for passion. He grew harder with each passing second, and he was forced to end it before he was tempted to drag her to the nearest bed.
“Ethan, I—” She shivered and snuggled closer to him, tucking her head under his chin. “You’re absolutely wonderful—do you know that?”
“You’re pretty awesome yourself.” And I’m one lucky bastard to have you. “So, how about dessert?”
She pulled back, her eyes clouded with doubt. “Maybe we can take it to go.”
His shoulders slumped in defeat. He couldn’t convince her to return to the table, but he still had all weekend to help her reconcile with her father. “Where?”
“That bungalow over there.” She wriggled against him, sparking his desire in a way that demanded satisfaction. “I asked to stay there so you could fuck me as hard as you wanted, and no one would hear us.”
His mouth went dry as all the blood rushed to his dick. “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”
He tossed her over his shoulder and ran toward the cabin with Becca laughing the entire time.
***
Becca snuck into the kitchen and closed the back door as silently as she could behind her. The house was bathed in dark shadows and as silent as the falling snow outside. She’d dozed off after Ethan had made her come for the fourth time that evening, but her growling stomach reminded her that she’d missed out on most of Thanksgiving dinner. She was tiptoeing toward the fridge to find some leftovers when the lights came on.
Her heart jumped. She froze and dared to peek over her shoulder at the person who’d caught her.
“Can’t sleep either?” Claire asked. She wrapped her dressing gown around her nightie and tied it closed as she came closer. Even after having Jacob, she’d retained her ready-for-the-runway figure that had helped her grace dozens of magazine covers in the late eighties and early nineties.
“Just hungry.” She opened the fridge and grabbed the container of turkey, followed by the bag of bread. “Can I make you anything?”
“No, but I’ll have a few sips of milk.” She sat down on one of the stools surrounding the giant island in the center of the kitchen.
“Coming right up.” She added the milk carton to her pile and made her way to the other side of the island. She poured a glass for her stepmother. “Sorry about dinner, Claire. I tried. I really did.”
“I know, dear, but you know your father.” She gave a weary sigh and stared at her milk, not touching it. “I give kudos to Ethan for standing up to him like he did. None of your previous boyfriends had the gumption to do that.”
Becca smiled as she fixed her sandwich. “Yeah, he’s a great guy.”
“I didn’t know he was famous until he told us, but once your brother pulled him up on the Internet, I recognized him.” She took a sip of milk. “He looks better with the short hair.”
Becca found herself giggling. “He’s pretty sexy, all right. But he’s more than a hot bod with a dreamy voice. He makes me feel like a million bucks when I’m around him.”
“How did you two meet?”
She hesitated, wondering how Claire would react if she knew the whole truth. “We, um, met at one of my NA meetings.”
Her stepmother raised both brows. “He’s a recovering addict like you?”
Becca nodded, finishing her sandwich and starting on another one for Ethan. “His best friend died of an overdose, and he took that as a sign he needed to get clean before he ended up the same way.”
“But isn’t that dangerous? Aren’t you worried he’ll relapse and tempt you to do the same?”
“Not at all.” She layered slice after slice of turkey on the bread, followed by a leaf of lettuce. “I’m so proud of how far he’s come. And we’re good about supporting each other to avoid that temptation to relapse.” She paused, remembering something he’d said to her months ago. “He gets me.”
“I understand that, Becca, but I’m still worried.”
“Don’t be.” She shook the milk carton. There was enough left for her and Ethan to each have a glass. She tucked it under her arm and grabbed the plate with the sandwiches on it. “Seriously, Claire, you have no idea how good he’s been for me. And every time I’m around him, I find myself discovering one more reason to fall in love with him.”
She started for the door, but Claire dashed in front of her and cut her off. Her stepmother wrapped her arms around her in a hug. “I’m glad to hear that, Becca, but please, don’t run off and elope without first letting me know.”
Becca laughed. “We’ve only been dating two months, Claire. Marriage is way off in the distance.”
“But sometimes you just know.” She twirled the wedding band around her own finger. “Your father and I had only been dating that long when he proposed.”
Yeah, and I still don’t see how someone as wonderful as you has stayed married as long as you have to someone like my father.
She gave her stepmother a tight smile. “Like I said, we’re in no hurry.”
But as she made her way back to the bungalow, she found herself wondering what it would be like to be married to Ethan Kelly.
Chapter Thirteen
Ethan pressed one side of the headphones against his ear and grooved along with the song. “This is fuckin’ awesome,” he told his sound engineer, Damian.
“Thanks, man.” He gave Ethan a fist bump. “But seriously, dude, those are some killer sweet tracks you laid down. Made it easy to mix them into that.”
The song ended, but the grin on his face didn’t fade. The new album was different from anything he’d ever recorded. For the first time in his career, he didn’t have a record label telling him to stick with the hard rock sound that had made Ravinia’s Rejects famous. The rock influences were still there, but he’d mixed in blues and country and electronic beats, depending on the different songs. The result was a compilation that was uniquely him.
And he liked it.
Up until this point, he’d been plagued by fear, doubt, and the ever-persistent cravings. Many nights, he left the studio wondering what he’d gotten himself into. He questioned his talent, his vision, even his sanity. His old muse beckoned him to return, but he fought back by holding on to his newfound freedom and the joy of making music that wasn’t tainted by heroin. As Becca told him months ago, the cravings never completely went away, but they became easier to deal with.
Today, however, was the first day he could listen to his music and not associate it with the past.
He put down the headphones and pointed to the thumb drive on Damian’s laptop. “Can I take that home to show my girlfriend?”
“It’s all yours.” Damian made a few clicks on the keyboard and popped the drive out. “Let me know if you need me to tweak anything else.”
“Will do. And remember, this needs to stay under wraps until I drop the news.”
“No problem, man. I’m cool like that.” He started packing up his gear. “And any time you want to work together, I’m game.”
“Right on.” He tucked the USB drive in his pocket and grabbed his jacket. He couldn’t wait to see what Becca thought of it. “Talk to you soon.”
Ethan got on his motorcycle and zoomed out of the parking garage under the recording studio. The early December air had a definite bite to it as he rode from Hell’s Kitchen to Midtown, but the bright lights and holiday decorations chased away the dreariness of the long nights.
That, and the constant presence of a certain warm body in his bed every night.
He pulled in front of the building
where Becca worked and he parked his bike, waiting for the moment where she’d emerge from the revolving door. He didn’t have to wait long.
Becca came running out of the lobby wearing leggings that clung to every delicious line of her legs. She blew him a kiss before putting on her helmet and climbing behind him. “Right on time.”
“Wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.” He revved the engine up and ventured north toward Central Park.
It was Friday afternoon, and he had a fun date planned for the two of them. After a string of high-society events over the last two months, he was looking forward to the opportunity to just be a regular person. As he got closer to the park, he slowed down until he found a place to safely park his bike.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise.” He helped her off his bike and secured the helmet. “Just come with me.”
They strolled through the park arm in arm, talking about their day, but he didn’t tell her about the finished album. The USB drive in his pocket reminded him he still had one more surprise for her after this.
Her eyes lit up in delight when they turned the corner and she saw the Wollman ice skating rink. “Is this what we’re doing?”
“Yeah.” He guided her to the front of the line and pulled out the two advance tickets he’d purchased earlier that week. “I figured Rockefeller would be a little too touristy, but I still wanted to do something to get us in the holiday mood.”
“You do realize that Hanukkah is a minor holiday and still a week and a half away?” she teased before giving her shoe size to the clerk at the skate rental stand.
“I know, and Christmas is even further off, but I don’t care. I wanted to experience the excitement, the thrill of being a kid again and marveling at the twinkling lights.” He handed her the rental skates. “Humor me.”
She playfully rolled her eyes, her grin defying any hint of sarcasm. “I guess I will.”
The skates weren’t like the hockey blades he’d learned to skate on as a child, and when he got onto the ice, he stumbled forward. His arms flailed out in an attempt to catch his balance, smacking Becca in the chest. A sick feeling formed in the pit of his gut, but he couldn’t tell if it was from accidentally hitting her or from making a fool of himself in front of everyone.
A Seductive Melody (The Kelly Brothers Book 5) Page 13