Lucky Ball

by Lisa N. Paul

  “Ookayy.” Wren grinned. “Are you gonna show me?”

  As soon as the door opened, music filled the air. Not just any music—live Shades of Certainty music.

  “Holy shit, holy shit!” She bounced on her toes like a teenybopper. “SoC is here?”

  “Yeah, Lucky, they are. More importantly though, these guys are my closest friends. Everything I am started in a garage with them, and it means the world to me to finally introduce you to each other.” He could tell the minute his words sank in, because Wren’s excitement morphed from fangirl hysteria to girlfriend jitters. “You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, Wren.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one meeting five of your boyfriend’s friends at once, all of whom just happen to be famous rock stars.”

  But now, many hours later, Logan still felt euphoric from the whole evening. A quiet hum slipped from Wren’s parted lips as she snuggled closer to his body. Was she really asleep? With her movements, the sheet had dipped, exposing her pert breasts with their small rosy nipples. He wanted to suck on those nipples… again. When they arrived back at Wren’s house, they had barely made it inside before they tore off each other’s clothes.

  “Fuck me,” she’d begged, wrapping her legs around his waist. “I need you inside me.”

  She may have been the one making the demand, but he shared the need. The sex was hot, dirty, raw, and fantastic. When he finally released, after giving her three body-shaking orgasms of her own, he nearly passed out from the intensity. But seeing Wren’s small frame tucked against his large body and hearing the sweet sounds drifting from somewhere in her dreams, all he wanted to do was wake her up and make slow love to her. The only things stopping him were the illuminated numbers on the clock beside her bed. With only four hours until she needed to get up for work, he decided to finally join her in sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Go Be A Rock Star

  “I’m so excited about tonight,” Emmy squealed into Wren’s ear early on Friday morning.

  “Me too. Hold on, I’m transferring you to Bluetooth. I’m going to be late for work.” Wren started her car, and the call switched over to the speakers. “Are you still there?”

  “Yep. As I was saying, thank you for inviting me. When word gets out that Shades of Certainty is playing in Glenside tonight, people are gonna go insane.”

  The second of the four-show pop-up tour was taking place that evening, and the announcement hadn’t yet been made. Now that Wren was involved with Logan, she listened more intently to local radio. She’d heard buzz all week about live music taking place at an undisclosed location later that night, but no details had been released.

  “I’m excited to have you there with me. Logan told me there will be a table reserved for us, just like last time. The only difference is, this time I’ll know just who I’m there with.”

  “That’s not the only difference,” Emmy muttered.

  “I’m sorry Smith turned out to be such an ass, honey.” Even though she and Emmy no longer discussed Smith Jones, Wren knew the wound was still fresh.

  “Pfft, whatever. Do you think he’ll be there tonight?”

  “He’ll definitely be there. Don’t forget, Smith is tied to the band through Logan and Marcus.”

  “Okay…” Emmy’s voice was strained like a tight rope. “He won’t be sharing our table, will he?”

  “Absolutely not! First of all, Logan would never do that to you—he’s ticked off over Smith’s behavior too. Second, I specifically told Logan if Smith attempted to sit at our table, I wouldn’t be responsible for what you did to him.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. I’ll be on my best behavior.” A beat of silence followed Emmy’s promise. “Hey, would you mind if after the show’s announcement is made, I invite William to join us? I promise I won’t say a word before the official statement hits the media.”

  Wren wasn’t worried about her friend sharing the band’s secret—she trusted Emmy with her life. But the fact that Emmy’s boss seemed to be popping up more and more in their conversations concerned her. “Em, are you and Mr. Rubichex seeing each other?”

  “Uh, yeah, Wrenny, I work with the man,” Emmy said, sarcasm dripping from each word. “I see him every day.”

  “Cut the shit, Emmaline, you know exactly what I’m asking. Are you dating your boss?” Say no, please say no. Nothing good will come from dating the man who signs your paychecks.

  “No, I’m not dating William.”

  Thank God.

  “But we are fucking each other.”

  Wren slammed on her brakes, narrowly missing the turn into the factory parking lot.

  “Sweetie, are you okay?” Emmy’s giggles filled the car. “I heard your tires screech through the phone.”

  Wren swallowed hard. It was difficult to speak with one’s heart lodged in one’s throat. “I’m fine. You’re screwing Mr. Rubichex? Why? Since when? Why?”

  “Yes. Only the last few weeks. And because he’s sexy as hell, Wrenny. But he was married, and you know I don’t mess with married men. While technically he is my superior, it’s a big firm. When this thing between us ends, he’ll transfer me, and I’ll report to a different lawyer.”

  The lackadaisical way she talked about the situation tugged at Wren’s heart. “What if you end up really caring for this man and he hurts you, or vice versa?”

  “That’s not gonna happen. We’re both in it for the sex. Nothing more. It just so happens that William is a huge SoC fan. When he finds out they’re performing tonight, he’ll get tickets anyway.”

  Wren shook her head. “Tickets won’t be that easy to come by. The radio stations have bought nearly all of them. The rest will be snapped up in minutes.”

  “Ahh, I’ve learned to never underestimate William. He has ways to get the things he wants.” Emmy’s voice fluttered, and the words she didn’t say were louder than the ones she did. “Anyway, you go inspect some crotches, and I’ll be at your place right after work to help you get dressed.”

  “You can come by, but I’ve already picked my outfit.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, real quick this morning before I left for work. Can’t wait to show it to you. I think it’s kinda hot.” Silence stretched between them. “Ems? You there?”

  “Yeah, sweetie, still here. I’ll see you after work. Mwah.”

  *

  Another round of drinks landed on their reserved table. The closer it got to show time, the quicker the beverages seemed to appear. Both women and men sent the band members their admiration in liquid form.

  When Logan and Wren first arrived at the bar a couple of hours earlier, for a sound check and a quick bite to eat with the other band members and Smith, the doors hadn’t yet opened to the public. In the casual environment, Logan got to watch Wren interact with his brothers as if they had known each other for years instead of days. Even her strained relationship with Smith seemed to be back on playful ground. That could have had something to do with her friend moving on from Smith’s idiocy or just Wren’s natural forgiveness, but either way, it made for a relaxed dinner.

  When the doors officially opened, the group dispersed in order to avoid making a scene early in the evening. Logan led Wren to a dark corner, wanting nothing more than a few minutes alone with her.

  “Goddamn,” he growled, “had I known what you were wearing under that coat when I picked you up, I’m not sure we would have gotten here on time tonight.”

  His hands were flat against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in and keeping her close. He’d nearly swallowed his tongue when they first arrived and she slid her long wool coat from her body. A black tube top hugged her frame, caressing her breasts in a way that made him jealous of the stretchy fabric. Her jeans had a well-worn look but fit like a glove, kissing her thighs and cuddling her ass. But the part that pushed his buttons and sent his dick from flirty to fuck me was the thigh-high black leather boots. The same ones she’d worn the night
they met.

  She looked up at him, his desire mirrored in her eyes. “That’s why I was ready to go when you came knockin’. The last thing you need is a distraction, Mr. Enders.”

  Her kittenish response made him want her even more. Logan pressed his lips to hers, grinding their hips so she could feel the effect she had on him. “Babe, don’t ever hide yourself from me. And you’re wrong, Ms. Jamison—you’re the best kind of distraction I could ask for.” Reclaiming her lips, he crushed her to him, loving the way her body melted into his touch.

  A feminine throat cleared behind him. “I’m sorry to bother you, Logan…” The chirpy voice sounded not the least bit sorry. “Can I please get a picture with you?”

  A picture? Logan’s lust-saturated mind could barely process the request. His tongue had been in the mouth of his fantasy woman, lost to the free world, and some random chick not only interrupted but wanted a selfie? Hell no. He needed to set the cockblocker straight. Explain how unfucking acceptable it was to interrupt two people making out just so she could get her picture taken. “Listen—”

  Wren’s hand ascended his spine, her touch aloe to the inferno blazing inside. “I’d be happy to take the picture for you. Give me your phone.”

  The woman’s high-pitched squeal was annoying if not deafening. “Please take a few, just in case I blink. Thank you.”

  Once the woman handed Wren her phone, she wasted no time in pasting her body to Logan’s. He tried his best not to sneeze as clouds of heavy perfume assaulted his nose—it smelled as if she couldn’t decide on a fragrance, so she had used all of them. His mind filled with memories of his younger days, when band groupies and insecure women would do anything for attention from men they didn’t know, all for the sake of bragging rights.

  “Are you ready?”

  Wren’s question effectively pulled his attention out of the past and away from the noxious mess at his side. Eyes now glued to his dark-haired beauty, Logan focused solely on the light, sweet citrus scent that whispered over her skin as if it were part of her DNA.

  “Smile.”

  As the flash went off, the woman planted a kiss on Logan’s face and a hand on his ass.

  *

  Wren snapped, all but shoving the phone into Pepe Le Pew’s over exposed torso, “Here you go.”

  Annoyance was evident on Logan’s face as he immediately stepped back. Wren found herself wrapped tightly in his arms, her back to his front.

  “What the hell?” he snarled, the vibrations of his anger tingling down her spine. “You have no right to grab me. That was my girlfriend taking that picture. Did you not take the time to notice, or didn’t you fucking care?”

  Bright pink lips curled up, mimicking the shrug of the woman’s shoulders. “Girlfriends come and go. When she goes, I can help you come. My number’s in your pocket.” In a puff of every perfume known to man, Pepe Le Pew walked away.

  “Motherfuck, I’m sorry, Wren.”

  She turned around to see Logan run his hands into his hair, gripping at the roots.

  “What the hell is wrong with people? A picture wasn’t enough, right?” He shook his head.

  The jealousy that had threatened to consume her when the woman first interrupted them had all but vanished. Sure, she didn’t like seeing another woman touch, kiss (gah, that made her want to vomit), and openly try to lure Logan away from her, but he was obviously only interested in her. Hell, she had practically forced him to take the damn picture, something she wouldn’t do again. That said, Logan had a commitment—three more performances—to his band, his friends, to do the best he could. If that meant posing for pictures, then she would help him through it.

  She cupped his jaw. The two-day old scruff felt soft in her palm. “Honey, I know you don’t like living under the spotlight. You explained it and I see it for myself—it is a little creepy. But you have to do it for a little while longer, and you’re not in this alone. I’m not sure why you chose me, but I’m right here with you. So when it gets to be too much, all those crazy girls wanting a piece of the ridiculously charming Logan Enders”—the thought alone made her cringe—“just reach for me. I’ll be your life jacket.”

  Calm finally easing into his features, Logan tipped her head back, bringing her eyes to his. “You keep asking why I chose you, Lucky, and my answer remains there was no choice. The minute I saw you, you were mine. Everything about you… mine.”

  It wasn’t the first time he’d spoken those words, but this time, she saw the truth in his eyes and heard the feeling in his voice. Can he be falling for me the way I am for him? No, it’s way too soon.

  *

  “This round is from the group of ladies over at the bar,” the sassy waitress, Violet, said as she placed the tray full of drinks on the table.

  Noah, Ethan, and Marcus finally joined Logan, Wren, and Emmy at the reserved table.

  “Thanks, sweetheart.” Ethan winked, sliding what looked to be a fifty-dollar bill into the waitress’s hand.

  Without looking at the amount, she tucked the cash into her apron and blushed before turning away from Ethan as if she was disappointed by her reaction to the celebrity. “Can I get you all anything else right now?” she asked the whole group.

  “You can get me a bottle of water and your phone number.” Ethan grinned, angling his head to get the server’s attention.

  “A bottle of water it is,” Violet repeated before walking away from the group.

  “You were dismissed, bro,” Marcus bellowed as soon as the waitress was out of earshot. “How’d that feel?”

  As the group broke into laughter, Logan noticed something other than humor cross Ethan’s face.

  “I don’t think Ethan finds it as funny as everyone else,” Wren whispered in Logan’s ear.

  “You noticed that too, huh?”

  “I notice a lot of things. For example, Smith got here about a half hour ago. He hasn’t approached the table, but he’s been staring holes through Emmy.”

  Damn, his girl was good. He’d tagged his friend doing the same thing. It was just a matter of time before Smith admitted he had made a mistake with Emmy, and Logan knew winning the sassy blonde back would be one hell of a battle.

  When Noah announced it was time to head backstage, adrenaline coursed through Logan. Getting ready to perform had always been the greatest high he’d ever known. His true love. As he leaned down to kiss Wren, the thought that the ultimate high just might come in the form of a small quirky woman hit him square in the chest.

  “Go be a rock star,” she cooed before her lips crashed against his.

  “If you insist,” he teased.

  “Let’s go, Romeo, before I shove a sword through my own chest just I so don’t have to watch any more of this gross encounter.” Noah exaggerated a shiver before ruffling his fingers through Wren’s hair.

  *

  “You two are pretty damn cute, you know that? I couldn’t be happier for you, Wrenny.” True delight was evident in Emmy’s statement.

  Before Wren could respond, the waitress appeared with a bottle of water and a frown. “I guess Mr. Rock God didn’t need his water after all?”

  “No, but tell us, did you put your phone number anywhere on that bottle?” Emmy teased.

  “Hell no,” Violet snapped. Her frown quickly fell into a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bitch to you. I’m not even supposed to be waitressing. I’m a bartender. Hell, tonight was supposed to be my night off, had big plans to celebrate my boyfriend’s band getting their first big break. He started partying with his manager last night…naked, in our bed.” Violet sighed, “Down a boyfriend, doubled my rent, lost a whole lot more faith in the opposite gender.”

  Poor girl. “That really sucks. I’m sorry you’re dealing with that.” Wren said.

  “Men can be such assholes,” Emmy added.

  “These musicians—not just your friends, all of them—they come in here thinking they’re God’s gift to women and… look, most women treat them like t
hey are. But they’re just men. No different from any other guy on any other night.” She shook her head and blushed. “Is it too much to ask that if they can’t see what I’m truly worth that they just leave me alone?”

  Wow, just… wow. Looking at the captivating woman, Wren would have never guessed behind the wide smile and the slight flush she’d shown earlier there was a person that had obviously been deeply hurt in her life.

  “I’m… I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

  “No. You weren’t,” both Wren and Emmy said.

  “Not every man is an asshole.” Violet’s attention focused on Wren. “It’s obvious your guy is crazy about you. Looks like your glasses are empty. Since I just talked your ears off, let me get you another round on me.”

  “Violet,” Emmy stood, wrapping her hand around the waitress’s wrist. “My girl caught herself a good man, but they aren’t easy to find. I’m where you are. I get it. Stay true to you and everything will work out.” Violet nodded, a small smile played across her lips.

  “What can I get you girls to drink?”

  When Wren suggested raspberry vodka and Sprite for them both, Emmy stared wordlessly at her until the waitress walked away.

  “What?”

  “Did you ask the dictator about that drink choice?” Emmy asked.

  Wren sighed. “No. When we got here, I realized I left him at home. But I figure raspberry is a great flavor, so we could try it, right?” Unsure what Emmy’s wide-eyed gaping meant, Wren shrugged and opened the bottle of water the waitress had left on the table.

  “There she is,” the deep masculine voice cut through the hundreds surrounding them.

  “William?” Emmy slowly turned to face the tall, handsome man who stood behind her.

  In black dress slacks and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, the man looked as if he had just stepped off a photo shoot for GQ magazine. That was Emmy’s boss? Holy shit! Like a voyeur, Wren watched, transfixed, as her best friend rose from her chair and shared a kiss with her boss that could have easily set off the smoke alarms. Sure, kissing Logan felt that hot, but there was no way she could ever look that freaking amazing doing… well… anything. Out of the corner of her eye, Wren saw Smith watching them, a look of consternation etched on his beautiful face as the glass he held cracked. While Smith had created the situation, Wren felt the need to defuse it.