Because of his need to know me, thus dredging up my past, I tossed and turned for most of the night, flipping between dreams of Trey and Matt. But it was the very realistic imagery of Cannon controlling my subconscious that left me unsettled and cranky by the time the morning alarm sounded on my phone.
My restless night was evident in the dark shadows beneath my eyes. With the power of makeup, I tried my damnedest to look decent. I even tried to channel my professionalism with a slim black skirt, conservative cream blouse, and classic black pumps. As I stared at my reflection, it felt like an impostor was staring back at me. In my power outfit, and my hair styled in a simple bun at the nape of my neck, I may have looked like Miss Calm, Cool, and Collected… but I was anything but this morning.
Normally I could fake it like the best of them. Today it was damn hard. The nervous energy that churned in the pit of my stomach had little to do with the business end of being his agent and more to do with him.
He was getting to me.
The more time I spent with Cannon, the more I feared accepting this job wasn’t smart. All I could hope for was that my resolve remained ironclad as his career went on. If not, I didn’t have a doubt that once he became famous it would be me who could lose everything I wanted and worked toward if I fell back into old patterns.
But when Cannon appeared at my door, I couldn’t hide my surprise. He picked up on it and shrugged. “I guess I clean up when I need to.” So very conservative, from his light-blue button-down shirt, dark jeans, and a navy blazer to the way his normally wavy mess of hair was styled. “You look—”
“Ready to go?” I rudely cut him off, because I knew anything out of his mouth would be sexy as hell, thus not helping my situation. Until a slow half smirk spread over his lips.
Shit… that was even worse than words.
“I’m ready,” he said with a gleam in his eye that mocked me, and I swear I heard him chuckle when I turned to grab my bag.
I forced myself to hear Jen’s warning during the elevator ride and short walk out of the hotel. The black sedan the label had sent waited under the portico, and I slid in repeating over and over, Keep it professional… or you’ll end up having the wrong kind of reputation in this business.
Once the driver pulled us onto the main road, Cannon turned to stare at me and asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah. This is a big day, I’m just anxious for you,” I lied.
“Okay.” Again, through the smug expression on his face, I knew he wasn’t buying it. There he sat like he didn’t have a care in the world, while it took every fiber of my being to control the trembling in my limbs. Regardless of what he might have been thinking, he allowed me to retreat into my own head, a place that betrayed me with every thought featuring his handsome face.
Thank Christ, it was only a few minutes later when we walked into LRV Media’s building, located in the heart of Dallas.
Upon arriving, we were welcomed with a breakfast reception at which Cannon met Louis R. Vassler in person. The man was a walking caricature, from the cowboy hat permanently fixed to the top of his head down to the highly polished black Justin boots on his feet. Despite being height challenged, Louis could be intimidating when he spoke in his heavy Texan accent.
We met the executive vice president, Charles Landon, who was a lot taller than Louis and a lot smoother around the edges. Cannon’s tour manager, Dylan Kressel, was also in attendance, along with his wife, Krista, who was also Cannon’s PR rep. I’ve known them ever since they handled the Devil’s Lair and Cliffhangers tour a few years ago.
Cannon met roadies and assistants, key players in the production staff, and equipment crew. After having been introduced to dozens of people, last but not least I introduced him to Jen. She extended a slender hand toward Cannon as her ice-blue eyes took a calculated inventory. “Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Davis,” she said formally.
Always his charming self, Cannon shook her hand politely. “Same here, Ms. Baxter. Please call me Cannon.”
Dylan called Cannon’s attention away long enough for Jen to level me with a judgmental frown puckering the sides of her ruby-red lips. And without words, I knew what was running through her mind.
Do not fuck this up, Lori.
It wasn’t until we were all sitting around the massive mahogany table in the conference room that I finally settled down a bit. It was easy to jump into my role as we reviewed the contract page by page.
Three very long hours after first entering LRV headquarters, Cannon sighed and dropped the pen he had used to sign on with LRV, stealing my breath with the brilliant smile he gave me.
“Hot damn.” Louis slapped the table with a hard hand while sporting his own huge grin. He then reached that hand across the table, waiting for Cannon to accept. “Son… welcome to the LRV family.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“My pleasure. You do us proud, ya hear?” Cannon nodded at Louis’s command. “How do ya feel?”
“Like I’m dreaming.”
“This ain’t no dream.” Louis pointed a chubby finger to the paperwork and added, “That right there is as real as it gits. You about to be a rich man, Cannon Davis. And those gals out there won’t know what hit ’em once we git that face of yours noticed.”
“Not sure how to process that part,” Cannon admitted with that sexy half smirk of his.
“No doubt you’ll figure it out. Just like today… you did good, son. Like a natural.”
Louis was right. I was so proud of how Cannon had handled all the changes we’d brought to the table, remaining firm when he needed to be, compromising on other points, and allowing me to step in when he felt out of his element. His biggest concern had been the clause his lawyer had added insisting on a renegotiation after he completed his tour. Louis didn’t even blink, agreeing without argument.
My biggest concern was how Louis continued to leave it up to me whether I wanted to join Cannon on tour. The tour would begin early December and run until April. It was short in comparison to most tours, but this would be an introductory tour, hitting small venues and festivals throughout the country.
Part of me wanted to pack my bag tomorrow, but that was the part that couldn’t resist him. The sane part of who I was knew being on the road with him couldn’t happen. Damn, the entire conversation about “extracurricular activities” with groupies caused an irrational jealousy to flood my veins.
Cannon remained professional, whereas I resumed my mantra while not wanting to delve into the reason that picturing Cannon with any groupie prompted a spike of distress in the pit of my stomach.
“I can’t take all the credit.” Cannon glanced my way, his expression turning more serious. “Lori has been awesome. I’m stoked to have her in my corner.”
As our eyes connected, Louis yelled, “Y’all make a good team.”
“Thank you, Louis,” I said in response, taking the opportunity to look away from my new client’s intense stare.
“Well, I’d love to celebrate, but duty calls. Besides, we’re sure y’all are sick of us by now. So… you two have dinner on us, and enjoy the sights tomorrow. Dallas is a pretty city. I recommend seeing our aquarium. We’ll have the jet take you back whenever you’re ready. No rush, though.”
Not expecting that, I was just about to mention we needed to get back when Cannon said, “We sure will. Thanks for your hospitality, Mr. Vassler.”
“Call me Louis, son. You’re part of the family now.” The stocky Texan stood and clapped a firm hand on Cannon’s shoulder. “Good luck to ya.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The rest of the day went by in a blur, and then we were sitting across from each other at a small round table that felt too intimate with its candle-glowing and flower-wielding atmosphere.
I was stuck with him… forced to have dinner at one of the most romantic restaurants in Dallas, mind you. And I was actually having a great time, which made matters worse for me.
On the label’s dime, we celebrated what ha
d occurred today and all that would come for Cannon soon. We talked about recording in the studio, meeting the musicians who would tour with him, and the various interviews Krista had already lined up.
Maybe it was the wine that had me finally relaxing, or the fact our meeting with Louis went off without a hitch. The result was that the real Lori, the one who loved to laugh and have fun, made an appearance for the first time since meeting Cannon Davis.
My eyes tracked his hand as he filled my glass again without invitation. “What?” he asked when I raised a brow. Before I could tell him exactly what, my cell began buzzing its way across the smooth silky tablecloth, with Oliver’s name appearing on the screen. “You going to answer that before it shimmies right off the table?”
Snatching it up, I responded to his question by declining the call.
“Aren’t you curious to know what Oscar wants?” The snark in his tone was so obvious that I didn’t even bother correcting him on Oliver’s name, knowing it would goad him further.
Instead, I lifted my wine and stared at him until he did the same. “To the amazing journey you’re about to embark on,” I said before tapping my glass to his.
“Amazing journey we’re about to embark on,” he ammended, taking a sip of his wine while staring at me over the rim. And the moisture from the burgundy liquid that passed through my lips did absolutely nothing to cure the parched condition of my mouth.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and dragging me toward the entrance of a bar, where thumping music could be heard out on the sidewalk.
“What? No way!” I yanked my hand out of his and glared like he’d lost his mind.
“Why not? Afraid to have fun?”
“I’m not dressed for a honky-tonk bar, Cannon.”
“Neither am I.” Undeterred, he snatched my hand again and left me no choice but to follow. “We’ll stick out together.”
The door led smack into the middle of a large space where a small mob of people danced, looking like a flash mob. Each step was perfectly synchronized to the country beat that the band played. Every set of eyes landed on us as we stood there, sticking out like sore thumbs.
“Cannon,” I hissed, tugging on his hand while stepping backward toward the door.
He came closer and leaned down with that half smirk of his shifting those damn perfect lips. “We already got spotted. Worst is over.” Without giving me another choice, he proceeded to drag me deeper into the massive place. Each step I took crunched over sawdust and peanut shells, until we came to stand at the gigantic bar that spread from one wall to the other.
“Whatta ya havin’?” the bartender asked, her wolfish eyes devouring every inch of Cannon. Old enough to be his mother, she continued to leer at him while leaning on her elbows and giving him a juicy view of two perfectly round melons busting out of her V-neck T-shirt.
“Two beers, whatever you have bottled, and two shots of Jack.” Realizing he’d ordered two, her eyes slid to me and she grinned.
“Lose your way to the convent, darlin’?” Cannon’s fingers tightened around mine in warning, and it was a good thing they had. Any other time, I would have gotten right into her face, but the last thing I needed was for Jen to come bail me out of a Dallas prison.
“We’re out-of-towners,” Cannon offered, shouting above the noise, our hands still tethered between us. “Here on business and the music drew us in.”
“Aw, I’m just teasin.’ We love all types here. Welcome to Dolly’s Dance Hall.” She straightened and winked before popping the caps off two bottles of Budweiser and pouring out two shots. “I’m Dolly. These are on me,” she said with a coy smile.
Was there anyone who didn’t fall victim to his charm?
“Thank you, Dolly.” Cannon passed me one of the shots and then extended his free hand toward her. “I’m Cannon. This here is Lori.” Still holding my hand, he one-handedly pulled out his wallet, and a ten-dollar bill. “Well, take this for the tip jar. We appreciate it.”
“Not a problem, cutie pie. Just try to fit in.”
“We’ll try.” When Dolly retreated to the other end of the bar, Cannon tapped his tiny glass to mine. “To having fun,” he said directly into my ear. He pulled away and waited for me to down my shot, and then he did the same. Already having been tipsy from all the wine we drank at dinner, the whiskey acted as a match to a pile of kindling, reigniting my buzz in a slow spread of warmth.
With that smirk in place, he replaced the shot glass in my hand with the bottle of beer. “Cannon, this has disaster written all over it.” And I didn’t mean the bar… adding alcohol to the mix wasn’t a good idea.
“Nah, this is the making of an epic night.” I took a sip of my beer and looked around, ignoring the way every part of me thrummed to life when the warmth of his breath had fanned across my neck.
“Usually it’s the epic nights that end very badly,” I half shouted back.
“Aw, come on. You appreciate music. Listen to it… it’s compelling. You can’t help but tap your feet or want to move your ass to it.”
He was right in that I could appreciate the music, but it was the rest of what went down around us that had me wanting to run. Close bodies, the subliminal message of sex in every beat, every move… it was way out of my comfort zone, and that zone normally held a huge curve.
What had happened to me?
If this were a bar in New York, and I had stumbled upon it with my friends, I’d be the one bullying them into joining the line-dance party—downing shots until we were loose enough to fit right in and loving every minute of pushing the envelope.
I couldn’t be that person anymore.
When my gaze came back to him, Cannon’s eyes were on me in the way that had me feeling exposed. He took the bottle from my hand and placed it on the bar with his. Once again, he entwined our fingers and dragged me toward what I thought was the door. But when he pulled us straight into the center of the dance floor, I wanted to run.
“No… Cannon, stop this.”
“Just follow what they do,” he called at me, falling into step with the crowd surrounding us. I had no doubt I looked like an idiot, shuffling from side to side without a clue what I was doing. Cannon laughed, yet he encouraged me by saying, “Two steps right… three steps left… back for three… up for two… now turn.” After successfully completing a full rotation so we were back facing the door, he grinned. “See, you got it.”
“Is there anything you don’t know how to do?” I asked, trying not to screw up my counting.
Without missing a step, he shook his head. “Nope.”
I had to admit, three minutes into the dance I was having fun. Cannon finally dropped my hand, but he kept close enough so our arms brushed every few seconds. Without warning, the song wound down and the band segued into a slow number even I recognized. Not one person left the dance floor, and instead everyone paired off around us.
I was about to head back to the bar when Cannon slid his hand around my waist and pulled me flush to his body. “One dance.” It wasn’t a request, and I immediately succumbed. The only explanation was that some foreign force within me made sure my logic took a hike.
He linked his fingers on the small of my back, making sure every part of him was pressed against every part of me. Alarms blared in my head, but my libido gagged and bound my sense of judgment while stuffing it in the trunk of a car.
The music acted as an enabler to the way he stared down at me so intensely.
The sway of our bodies acted as foreplay for a seductive dance.
Ignoring the energy that sparked between us was easier said than done.
I felt drunker than I actually was.
I knew I needed to put an end to it all.
I didn’t.
Whether or not he knew a battle was raging in my head, my stunned silence prompted him to close the distance. When his lips molded on mine, the way they moved softly and slowly with purpose created a delicious sensation that drugged my senses.
&nbs
p; Chapter 13
Cannon
Reluctantly, I pulled away.
But the way her glistening lips parted to release the smallest sigh, the way her gorgeous green eyes searched mine, forced my mouth back on hers before logic took over.
Going for it, this time I slipped my tongue into her mouth to introduce itself. I didn’t care we were standing in the center of a jammed dance floor, or what the repercussions would be once our kiss ended. In that moment, kissing Lori was worth any hell she’d be sure to unleash on me once the high eventually wore off.
Her fingers tightened on the lapels of my jacket as her body leaned into mine, and I thought maybe she felt the same as I did. That caused a frustrated groan to echo out of me because of where we were. If we had been anywhere else, that kiss would have started a chain of events that ended with us crossing a line.
I ignored the voice in my head… and that little voice didn’t have a prayer when she continued to reciprocate. Doing so caused a violent surge of need for every inch of her. One taste, and I was already high on her. Each second that passed that I devoured her lips sent my high soaring.
Our kiss went on far longer than I expected before she finally pushed me away—long enough that when our eyes locked, questions bounced between us. Bringing her closer, I skimmed my hands over where the silky fabric of her blouse met the smooth fabric of her skirt. But contradictorily, she pushed hard against my chest and bolted toward the door, forcing me to chase after her.
“Lori!” I called in vain, knowing she wanted no part of me. Once outside, I didn’t give her a choice when I wrapped my hand around her arm, a temporary guarantee she couldn’t flee any farther.
“Don’t, Cannon.” Her expression was livid, and part of me felt it was herself she was truly angry with.
Whatever.
She. Kissed. Me. Back.
Regardless, now I had to deal with the hell I’d predicted.
Yet even with the murderous look on her face, with the wisps of hair that came loose from that uptight hairdo, or with her chest heaving beneath the prudish blouse that was buttoned to her neck, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
Liner Notes Page 9