Rock God in Exile (Smidge Book 2)

by Kella Campbell

  “He says it’s a long drive, through mountains and shit.”

  “And he thinks I’m a little lady who can’t take care of myself without a man’s protection. Screw that!” Nell couldn’t keep the scowl off her face. Tommy’s antiquated attitude toward women always enraged her.

  “Simmer down. I know you can take care of yourself. Black belt, I think you said? I was on the ground and in pain at the time, so… you made your point.”

  Nell, who never blushed, felt her cheeks getting hot. “So maybe I overreacted. I thought you were planning on stepping up from harassment to assault, though, and — adrenaline took over. Muscle memory and training. I didn’t think, I just… acted.”

  “Dude. I never thought — I was just flirting — I’d never rape anyone!”

  “You think an unwanted grope is just flirting?”

  “No. Fuck me, I — all the time I was playing with Smidge, girls were practically lining up to have a go with me in the bathrooms. Like, where else can you do it at a bar? And they wanted to say they’d screwed a rock star. I just lived up to my name.” Easy.

  Nell shook her head. “So you assumed I’d be into it too. Yeah, no.”

  “Sorry,” Eamonn muttered.

  “Forgiven. Just remember that any time you get that close to a woman who’s not actively saying yes, there’s a strong chance she’s wondering if you’re planning to rape her. Let’s move on.”

  He looked a bit stunned. “I, ah, never thought of it like that.” When she gave him a prompting look, he nodded. “Sure, moving on. You were saying you haven’t been to Champagne Cascades before?”

  “That’s right. From Google Maps, it looks pretty remote, up toward the Canadian border on the other side of Wenatchee National Park. The nearest town is called Winthrop. It’ll be upwards of a four-hour drive, so we’ll have to leave really early.” She pulled the map up on her computer and angled the screen so he could see it. The blue line of the recommended route followed a scooping curve, taking I-90 across the narrowest part of the mountains and then US-97 up through Wenatchee on the other side, until they’d get to smaller local roads after Brewster.

  “Just how early are you talking about?”

  Four hours. Need to be there for checkout at ten. “You’re not a fan of mornings, are you? We’re going to have to be on the road by six.”

  “Oh, that’s ugly. I don’t function before ten. How come we don’t head out now and sleep there tonight?” Eamonn asked.

  Nell blinked. She hadn’t even thought of it. “I haven’t packed. And even if we left in less than an hour, we’d be driving ’til at least nine, later if we stop anywhere.”

  He shrugged. “Just an idea. Your call.”

  “I’m not a fan of night driving, especially in the mountains,” she admitted. She never liked to have her weaknesses brought to light, but she’d been a city dweller all her life and her experience was more tied to public transit than rural highways.

  Eamonn reached out, as if to rub her shoulder in reassurance, then jerked his hand back as if reminded that his touch might not be welcome. “Hey, it’s okay. I love to drive, especially highways at night. Could we take my truck? Four-wheel drive, good tires, and I promise it’s a comfortable ride.”

  Nell smiled at his wheedling tone. “I’d imagine a truck owned by a rock god would be pretty comfortable. We’re supposed to take a company vehicle, but I bet you could persuade Tommy to waive that rule.”

  “Yeah. I’ll go ask him. I’ve got my bike here today, so I’ll have to whip home and get the truck. You want to take transit to your place to pack, or are you willing to ride with me? I’ve got a spare helmet.”

  She grinned. “I’ve been on bikes before. I’d appreciate a lift home.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll go talk to Uncle Tommy. Meet you at the elevators in ten minutes?”

  Elevators? Let’s see what the man is made of. “Afraid to take the stairs?”

  He stared at her. “Six floors?”

  “It only takes a couple of minutes. Good cardio. But you can meet me at the bottom if you’d rather.”

  “All right.” He shrugged. “I guess I can take the stairs with you.”

  Eamonn was a bit out of breath when they reached the parking level, but not as much as Nell had expected. “You’re not in bad shape,” she said. Especially given that he’s carrying his helmet.

  “Mm. Playing rock concerts can be pretty intense and I work out when I’m able. Keeps me fit enough.” His voice sounded casual, almost deliberately casual, and she wondered if he was taking their relative fitness as a competition. So many men, in and out of martial arts, took it as a personal challenge when they met a woman who was physically strong. Maybe I should have taken the elevator.

  She didn’t have to ask where he was parked. There was just the one motorcycle in the parking garage. She’d assumed a guy whose stage name was Easy would have a sleek crotch rocket in a flashy cherry red or something equally attention-screaming, but the bike they walked toward was a big, comfortable touring Harley in silver and black. “Nice ride,” she said, and he grinned.

  Reaching the bike, he unlocked the trunk on the back and lifted out a spare helmet. “Full helmet,” he said, handing it to her. “I like my passengers to be safe. You said you’d ridden on the back of someone’s bike before?”

  “A few times, yeah. Some of the guys I train with have bikes and I get a ride home now and then.”

  “Good. Here, give me your bag and I’ll lock it in the top box so you don’t need to worry about it.” Then he swung his leg over the bike and adjusted his weight. “Let me just pull out and turn before you hop on.” Nell stepped back against a concrete pillar while Eamonn rolled his bike out of the parking spot and got it positioned toward the parking lot exit. He waved her over. “Okay, climb on up. You know you’ve gotta hold tight, right? Can’t be shy on a bike.”

  “I’m not shy.” I just don’t know that it’s a good idea to get so close to you. But her only other choice was to refuse to get on the bike, and then she’d have to waste time on the bus when they could be getting on the road. She hadn’t been on a touring motorcycle before. It was bigger than she was used to, with a high back behind the passenger seat. “Looks like an armchair, all that leather padding.” Feeling fortunate that her training had given her so much flexibility, she grabbed the back of the seat, got a leg up, and slid into position. The padded seat gave her no choice — her legs were pretty much snug around his hips, and unless she leaned back awkwardly, her chest was right up against his back, like a sitting piggyback ride.

  He didn’t seem to mind. “I like road trips. I like being comfortable. We could ride to Champagne like this without too much trouble, but I think the truck will be better, especially if you want to nap while I drive.”

  Nell snorted. “I don’t nap.”

  “We’ll see. My truck is comfortable too. Anyway, you know the drill, right? Keep your feet up even at stops, keep your arms around my waist, and keep your shoulders in line with mine. Tap my shoulder if there’s a problem and I’ll pull over. Good?”

  “Don’t you need my address?”

  “Got it from Uncle Tommy on my way out. Let’s go.” He revved the motor, a smooth rumble that vibrated right through her like a cat’s purr, and pushed off.

  No goddamn privacy in that place.

  She couldn’t feel much of his body through his leather jacket, just a sense of lean hardness and warmth. It was still too close for comfort. He doesn’t respect women, she reminded herself. He may not have intended to harass her in the Frog and Ball, and he may have meant ‘gorgeous’ as a compliment, but it still didn’t make him acceptable. But in her mind, she kept hearing Lila saying you need to get laid. “I do not,” she said out loud, knowing that the wind would eat her words without him hearing them. I’m quite capable of taking care of my own needs in between lovers, thank you. She wasn’t so desperate that she’d need to take someone called Easy into he
r bed. Think about packing, she told herself. Think about planning. Don’t think about him.

  She wrapped her arms tighter around him and closed her eyes against the afternoon sun. It seemed like no time at all before he pulled up in front of her apartment building.

  “How long do you need to pack?” he asked, as he turned and offered her a hand to steady her as she dismounted. Then he got up too and opened the top box to get her bag.

  “Not long,” she said without thinking. I am totally unprepared for this. She’d planned on doing laundry in the evening, packing methodically, leaving in the morning after a good sleep. “How long will it take you to get your truck and get back here? And you have to pack too.”

  “I’m a guy,” he said. “Packing takes me a few minutes, tops. I can be back here in forty, if that works for you?”

  “You bet.” She’d be on the front step waiting when he arrived if it killed her. Do I even have clean pajamas? “I’ll be ready.”

  His truck was gorgeous. Nicer than the bike, even. She hadn’t been expecting cherry red, especially after the bike had surprised her by being such a subtle silver and black. It was a fully tricked-out Chevy Silverado 1500 High Country, and as he opened the door, she could see leather seats.

  Getting up from the front steps of her building where she’d been sitting, Nell hoisted her travel bag onto her shoulder and walked slowly down to the curb. By the time she reached the truck, Eamonn had gotten out and was waiting for her next to the passenger door. “Bet this thing eats a lot of gas,” she blurted out. It was rude, and not at all what she’d meant to say, but she was feeling discombobulated from having packed in a hurry, and slightly angry with herself for liking his toys so much.

  “It’s not too bad,” he said mildly, and she wondered if he’d ever had to worry about gas prices. Rock star. But then he gave her a half-smile and added, “It’s not a full hybrid, but it has e-assist, so that helps a fair bit.”

  “It’s a lovely color,” she said, wishing she’d just said that to begin with.

  “Thanks, babe.” He took her bag and tossed it onto the second row of seats — the truck was a big crew cab style with four doors and seats enough to fit all of Smidge plus a girlfriend or two — then offered her a steadying hand for the step up into the passenger seat. “Let’s get on the road.”

  Nell ignored his hand and hauled herself up into the high seat on her own. Don’t call me babe, she thought grumpily. But she bit her tongue on the thought — no sense starting an argument when they’d be stuck in the vehicle for the next four or more hours. As she settled into her seat and buckled up, he closed the door and went around to the driver’s side.

  The Silverado’s cab could sit three across, but the middle seat was folded down to provide a console with cupholders. Good, a bulwark between us. The motorcycle ride had been more than enough coziness between them, and Nell didn’t want any more of it. Once Eamonn was in the truck and buckled, he leaned over and pointed to something on the dash. “Here’s the AC, feel free to adjust it to whatever’s comfortable for you. If the night gets cold later, there’s a heated seat switch there. It’s a long way, so let me know if there’s anything you need, like a pit stop or food, right?” He started up the truck and pulled out smoothly onto the road. “I’m going to go through the Starbucks drive-thru on our way out of here — coffee goes with highway driving for me. Want anything?”

  “I can get my own.”

  “Just let me get you a coffee, all right? It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Yeah, no, because I don’t drink coffee.”

  Eamonn laughed, a full-throated genuine laugh. “Figures. Green tea latte? Chai? I’m guessing you’re a green tea kind of girl.”

  Because she liked both, and because she just plain didn’t want him to be right about her, she said, “Chai. Half sweet, with coconut milk. And I’m a woman, not a girl.”

  He laughed even more. “Oh, you’re all woman, that’s for sure.” Damn, I walked into that one. But she hated being called a girl. “Okay, complicated-drink woman, I’ll get your half-sweet coconut milk chai. Now, what about music?”

  They stopped for dinner at a pub in Wenatchee around half past seven, just over two hours after they’d set out. They were making good time and Nell suspected Eamonn wasn’t sticking to the speed limit, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her peering at the speedometer so she deliberately kept her eyes averted. He was a smooth driver, in any case, and the big truck ate up the miles like they were nothing. “I’m good to keep going,” he’d said when they reached the outskirts of Wenatchee, but Nell reminded him they didn’t know what they’d find in the smaller towns ahead and pointed out that the kitchen at Champagne wouldn’t still be doing dinner after nine, even if he wanted to wait another two hours or more to eat. “All right,” he’d agreed, “but let’s get a proper meal if we’re stopping. Not shitty road food.”

  Nell wasn’t sure if they’d agree on what constituted a proper meal, but he pulled into a parking lot next to a pub and turned to her with raised eyebrows as if to ask, will this do?

  “We only get ten dollars a day in travel allowance,” she reminded him.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, they expect us to eat Mickey D’s. I’m okay with covering the extra.”

  “I can afford my own dinner. I’m not broke. It’s just… natural caution, I suppose.”

  “You always color inside the lines?”

  I draw my own lines, she wanted to say. My life isn’t a coloring book. But he was right. She recognized in herself a tendency to follow rules, to stay where things were clearly black and white, no mess or blurring of what was expected. The structure and hierarchy of martial arts never left room for doubt, and she’d been living within it for most of her life. Even her own rules for herself… She smiled ruefully. “Pub night is Sunday. It’s not Sunday today.”

  “Well, let’s pretend.” He jumped down from the truck and came around to open her door.

  “Dude, you don’t have to open doors for me. I can do it.”

  He shook his head. “Mom would skin me alive if I let a lady open her own door. But you can jump down without touching my hand, if you’d rather.”

  Feeling as though she’d been ungracious, Nell rested her hand lightly on his as she stepped down to the sidewalk. “Thanks,” she muttered. Although she broke the contact immediately, she could still feel the imprint where her palm had touched his fingers. Rubbing the offending palm against the thigh of her jeans, she strode ahead to the door of the pub, opening it before he could get there. Her first glance around showed her warm wooden tables and brick walls, bell-shaped glass lights and rustic open rafters overhead, a long bar counter. “This place looks all right,” she said, reaching back to hold the door open for him.

  “Thank you, gorgeous.” He winked at her.

  “Don’t—” Then she realized he was winding her up on purpose.

  “We’re not in the office.” He took a burning good look at her below the neck before meeting her eyes again. “Yup, still as nice as before.”

  “You’re unbelievable.” She felt a reluctant smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

  The hostess showed them to a cozy table for two up against one of the brick walls, put some menus on the table, and told them their server would be with them in a moment. Nell barely had a chance to look around before the server showed up. “Hi, my name is Aris. I’ll be taking care of you this evening. Can I get you started with some drinks?”

  Nell asked for water.

  “Dead Guy Ale sounds interesting,” said Eamonn. “I’ll have a pint of that. And a glass of the Stemilt Creek merlot for my dinner companion, but you can put it on my check.”

  “But…” Nell opened, then closed her mouth. Not wanting to argue in front of the server, she fixed him with a disapproving look, holding her tongue until Aris walked away. Then she said, “But this is a work trip. And you’re driving.”

  “Oh, Nel
la-bella, I’m perfectly safe to drive on one beer.” The jaded look he gave her suggested that he’d driven on much more alcohol and much worse substances than that. “And a little bit of wine won’t hurt you. Come on, I know you drink, I’ve seen you enjoying those peachy things at the Frog and Ball.”

  “Did you just call me Nella-bella?”

  He grinned. “Bella means beautiful.”

  Just then, Aris returned, flipping a couple of coasters onto the table with one hand as she balanced her tray on the other. “The Stemilt Creek Caring Passion Merlot for you, ma’am, and a pint of Dead Guy Ale for you, sir. Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”

  “We’ll get right on that,” said Eamonn.

  Nell stared down at the menu in front of her. He ordered me a wine called Caring Passion? Every time she turned around, Eamonn “Easy” Yarrow had her more and more confused. The menu. Concentrate on the menu.

  The food choices were extensive, for a pub. Lots of substitution options — veggie patties and gluten-free buns in the burger section, a gluten-free pizza crust choice, a quinoa pasta option, lots of extras and sides. She ended up choosing a salad entrée that sounded both substantial and healthy, with tomato and avocado, grated carrot and parmesan and jicama, pistachio nuts and cucumber slices. He ordered a burger with bacon and cheese.

  “Vegetarian?” he asked. “Or dieting?”

  She wasn’t sure if she wished she could answer yes. “Conflicted,” she said, after a moment. “I’m about seventy percent vegetarian. I like a lot of vegan recipes and could almost do it, but then there’s that other thirty percent where I’m a hardcore carnivore and I just want a burger or steak, damn it. Today isn’t one of those days, though. And I don’t diet. I really do like salads.”

  “Sure.” He took a long sip of his beer, a tiny bit of suds catching on his upper lip. “This is good beer. I hope you’re happy with eating dinner here?”

  “The wine is all right.” She nodded, glad now that he’d insisted she have it. One glass wouldn’t hurt. She could relax a little. Maybe she’d even sleep away some of the highway left to go. When the food came, it was as good as the menu had promised, and she ate with a hearty appetite.