Liner Notes

by Madden, A. M.

  “Oh. Why didn’t you record ‘Another Life’ like the schedule called for?”

  “I wasn’t feeling it today,” I lied. Once I’d learned Lori wasn’t coming this morning, I’d decided to sing the song I kind of wrote about her. I knew without her there I’d be able to truly pour every emotion I felt when writing it into my performance. Without her eyes studying every chord and lyric, I was able to sing it without inhibition.

  Mission accomplished.

  That song had accidentally become the nucleus of this album. Every other one, whether written before I met her or after, now seemed to revolve around “Better.”

  “I can’t wait to hear it.”

  “Billy said it’s perfect, and he’ll edit it along with the other two I recorded while we’re away.” I pulled out the album playlist I had scribbled on and handed it to her. “One more thing. I think ‘Better’ should be the title track.”

  She wasn’t able to hide her surprise. Lori felt the artist should have more say in the songs included on an album, and the order in which they appear. This was my way of shamelessly holding her to that belief.

  The idea had come to me in an ah-ha moment late last night. That one tiny word has followed me like a dark shadow since Holly. Always nagging that there was someone better out there than me. And now it seemed like déjà vu. Making it front and center in my repertoire would force a constant reminder to spin a different fate. This song was my way of telling the universe to fuck off, because I was as good as it got.

  She let a few moments pass before she offered a resigned nod. “Okay. I’ll see if Billy can get me a quick download to listen to, but I’m sure you’re right.”

  “I am right,” I said, full of confidence.

  “And cocky,” she razzed with a smirk. “So, good news… Jack and Leila are in New York this week. We have dinner plans with them at their place after the photo shoot on Monday. Also, I secured one of LRV’s smaller studios. I think it would be great for you to record there, maybe have Jack sit in if he’s available. This is up to you, but what would you think of Jack playing background on whatever track we decide on?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” she said smugly. “Having the words Featuring Jack Lair on the CD jacket… well, I don’t have to explain what that would do for sales. I believe in you, Cannon, but I also believe that every bit helps. It’s not just talent. If it were, Cliffhangers wouldn’t have had such disappointing results. It’s timing and a touch of luck as well.”

  “Shit… I don’t know what to say.” The fierce support she had already proved to possess just kept getting stronger and stronger. Fuck, this woman was killing me. “Thank you, Red.”

  “Of course.” When her smile smoothed around the edges into something more intimate, my eyes dropped to her lips. Subconsciously, I used my tongue to force moisture as the memory of kissing her caused my mouth to go dry with desire. Her eyes mimicked mine, falling to my mouth only to dart back up. “Um…” I waited her out through a pause that possibly was meant to collect her thoughts… or to once again argue with herself that the live wire stretching between us wasn’t real.

  It was very real.

  “Jen decided to be at the photo shoot,” she finally rushed on to say.

  “Okay.” I didn’t care who decided to be there.

  “And I want to take you to one of the hottest bars in Manhattan. DL played there many times before they toured. We should try and book you at Granite just after the album drops.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t care if she booked me to play the men’s room at Grand Central. All I cared about at that moment was how I could convince her that we’d be great together.

  You could hear a pin drop while we stood a few feet apart, staring at each other until she spoke again. “Um…” She glanced at my guitar case. “Are you ready to go? I have my car if you need a ride.”

  “I have my truck. Do you want to grab dinner? I haven’t shopped since I’ll be away for a week.”

  “Um… I have plans,” she whispered, her gaze dipping to the space between us. The unintentional gesture left no need for her to admit with whom.

  And just like that, my accurate assumption yanked the plug on that live wire.

  Chapter 18

  Lori

  Cannon has been… polite.

  Funny how that tipped me off there was something up with him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t always been a perfect gentleman since the day we’d met. Although the cloak of cockiness securely fastened around his neck always billowed like a super heroes cape.

  However, since our return from Dallas it had been all business.

  I hated that I hated that formal tension between us. I knew exactly where it stemmed from. He wasn’t happy with me… mainly because of my ties to Oliver. He never asked, and if he had, I had nothing to hide. Part of me felt he had no right to know… it really wasn’t his business. But a bigger part of me wanted him to fire question after question so I could kill his assumptions and get back on a more comfortable ground with him. So many times I wanted to set the record straight, only to chastise myself for even considering it. Because opening up to Cannon about my personal life would set a dangerous precedent.

  In a nutshell, nothing was happening between Oliver and me. I’d had dinner with him once in two weeks. It wasn’t even a date, as he was at the same function I’d attended with Jen. Of course, he’d sat right beside me through the meal and insisted on driving me home.

  Once at my condo, he’d killed the engine and sent my heart into a frantic pounding. I wasn’t afraid of him, nor did I find him unattractive. Making excuses wasn’t my thing. I really never had to before. Yes was yes, no was no… end of story.

  But I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to push him away, not until I figured out if there could be something between us. Something I could navigate on my terms, walk away without it ruining my life.

  “I’d like to take you out properly,” he persisted, his entire body facing mine in the small confines of his Lamborghini. “Scratch that,” he amended while stroking a knuckle down my cheek. “I’d like to take you away.”

  When I subtly leaned a mere centimeter back into the seat, he simply let his hand fall to my shoulder instead. I removed it with a forced smile and said, “Oliver, nothing has changed since our last conversation. I really don’t want to give you the wrong impression, but I’m not interested in a relationship right now. I would like to be friends.”

  Disappointment tightened his handsome face just a fraction before he nodded with his own smile. “And as I said the last time you used these words, I’m okay with waiting. Although you intrigue me, and I think you’re stunning, at my age and with my history with relationships, I just want to enjoy a beautiful woman’s company. Physically connect in a way that would benefit each of us. You have needs, as do I. I’m not looking for love, Lori. Until you’re ready for that kind of arrangement, let me spoil you a bit… as a friend,” he finished with a small wink.

  The offer held some appeal, although it didn’t set my heart fluttering with excitement the way it did when Cannon simply looked at me. Any female with a pulse knew that Oliver Steiner was a great catch. And though there wasn’t a thing he possessed personally or materialistically that I wanted, I found myself nodding at his proposition just to keep the option open.

  But now, as I glanced at the man who had unknowingly provided the reason I felt the need to even consider Oliver’s offer, I couldn’t help but second-guess myself. I’d basically be using Oliver to avoid starting something with Cannon.

  To put it bluntly, I didn’t trust it would work.

  I took the opportunity to study every detail of Cannon’s handsome face. It was times like now, as he slept peacefully, when he looked so young. Was that the reason I felt so protective of him? Was I confusing nurturance for something else?

  No, it was definitely something else. Even with the heavy chains of my past weighing down any hope for a different future, somethin
g had throbbed deep inside since the moment I’d met him… slow and steady, but always pulsing.

  What scared the living crap out of me was I’d never felt this kind of ache in my life. What was that? Did he simply charm the damp panties off me? Yes, my love life had been shit lately, forcing my always-ready libido into shock… but that didn’t account for the pressure I felt in my chest. And that… that was the reason I had to thwart his advances, because I still believed he had no idea what was about to happen to his life.

  The money, the fame, the women throwing themselves at him for five minutes with a rock star, it all hovered right out of reach. Any sexy talented man with a raging libido such as Cannon would chomp at the bit once faced with all those potential perversions. Inevitably, the fascination he had with me would fizzle out, and I wanted no part of the aftermath.

  Easier said than done. Cannon was on to me. He had already figured me out, and it wasn’t scaring him off in the least… and that pissed me off. Dammit, even by sitting nowhere near me, I could feel his presence on my skin.

  As if sensing my thoughts, his lids popped open and those cognac eyes clung to mine. I should have looked away, but predictably that urgent tug stretched between us. After a few long seconds, a shutter fell over his gaze and snapped the tether.

  “What time is it?” he asked groggily.

  “Around one… actually, four.” I glanced out the window, the sky still black as night coating the speckling of lights on the ground far below. “We should be landing soon.”

  “Did you sleep?”

  “No.” I pointed to my laptop as an explanation.

  “All work and no play,” he teased as he had before.

  Even though the irony of his accusation almost caused a hysterical laugh to escape, I suppressed the urge and looked upward, feigning annoyance. He had no idea how play used to be my middle name. The need to live every minute of my life to the fullest fueled me better than any sustenance could.

  On that same token, I wondered if he were the opposite. I had a million questions effervescing beneath the surface. Was he forced to always play it safe, abandon any childlike innocence to play a role he’d inherited? Was he ready to be promiscuous, because needing to be fit the rock star requirement? Was he prepared to have every sexual encounter be nothing more than a good hard fuck?

  All reasonable inquiries while he stood on the threshold of his adventure… where I was forced to watch through the peephole.

  I tried to picture him six months from now, when his tour would have just ended and the madness that came with it would become wallpaper lining his once sheltered life. Christ, I hope he survived it. Cannon deserved to emerge trauma-free, unscathed and a better man than he already was at only twenty-three. The bar representing his morals, his integrity, was so damn high that I feared a collapse was inevitable.

  Another reason I couldn’t fall for him, because when and if that happened, he would take me down with him. My role would have to be as the friend and adviser who would pick him back up.

  “So what’s the plan today?” he asked, breaking into my thoughts. We had the entire weekend ahead of us before five days of nonstop branding.

  “Well, since this is your first time to New York, what would you like to do?”

  A boyish grin spread before he said, “I want to eat a hot dog in Central Park.”

  Before we got to his simple request, we checked into our hotel and took much-needed naps. Somewhere around two, I knocked on his door, ready to give him a taste of New York. I showed him Times Square before we hopped the subway and headed for the park.

  The day couldn’t have been more perfect. The summer heat was gone, and the air held that warming comfort that came just before autumn kicked in.

  It felt like every New Yorker had made their way to the park, knowing these glorious days were numbered. Despite the laughter and dogs barking, the conversations and bird squawking, Cannon and I found a slice of tranquility on the Great Lawn, getting comfortable beneath a large oak tree by plopping down on the lush grass.

  I twisted my head and smiled at the joy he clearly felt from biting into a hot dog in the middle of this urban jungle.

  “What?” he said around a mouthful, catching me staring.

  “Is it as good as you dreamt?” I asked, failing to hide the humor in my tone and expression.

  “It’s better.” He swallowed, hesitated, and then brought what was left of his indulgence close to my mouth. “Taste it.”

  “No, thank you. I’ve had dirty-water dogs before.”

  Ignoring me, he touched my lips with the bun and insisted. “One bite.” A few crumbs flittered through the air from my heavy sigh just before I bit down and then chewed with a saccharin smile.

  “Mmm, yummy,” I said, my sarcasm thicker than the wiener I was forced to swallow down.

  His focus shifted to my mouth, and I wasn’t prepared for his thumb to land on my lip and stroke across it. My breath came quick and heavy when he kept it there, allowing me to taste the mustard he must have collected. I had no idea why I sucked at the spot, or why he didn’t move away once the condiment was gone. Instead, he slipped his hand across my jaw until he was able to circle my ponytail in his grip.

  Like an idiot, I cleared my throat, intending to push him away with a firm “no.” Apparently he had other plans because he closed the distance between our faces, pausing a breath away.

  “Don’t stop this, Red.” Our gazes tangled, wrestling between his intent and my reluctance. Taking my silence as consent, he jolted forward and kissed me hard. Pleasure ignited, warring with the willpower I clearly couldn’t practice when around him. The argument within me stole my focus long enough for him to progress the kiss, long enough for his tongue to slip between my lips to caress mine.

  The kiss in Dallas paled compared to this one… and that one had left me a mess. Every second that I allowed this to continue would wreak havoc on my resolve. Yet I did nothing but kiss him back like it was a normal occurrence between us.

  The snap back to reality came when Cannon dropped what was left of his hot dog before maneuvering us until we ended up on our sides face-to-face with the grass beneath us.

  Jerking my head back and pushing on his chest with both hands, I whispered, “Stop…” His eyes looked more liquid gold than brown, and as he leveled me with them it took a few seconds for his cognizance to return.

  “I’m sorry, Red,” he said contritely, the look on his face killing me.

  “It’s not just on you,” I voiced, saying what I felt. His brows lifted a bit as he studied my face. “But we can’t do this.”

  “Why?” I shouldn’t have been surprised by his question, yet I still stumbled with how to respond—mainly because I knew he’d rip apart every one of my excuses, dismantle them piece by piece until they lay between us as a pile of nonsense.

  Still, my list was long—endless…

  I refuse to go down this road again.

  I refuse to be known as the agent with a pattern.

  I refuse to fall for someone who can destroy me.

  I’m too old for you.

  You haven’t lived yet.

  But all I could voice out loud was, “We just can’t.”

  “That’s a bullshit answer, Red.” He moved away and stood before offering me his hand. Once he’d pulled me up, his grip remained steady when he drew me closer. “You need to think of a better one. Until you do, I’ll go on believing you’re just making up excuses.”

  “It’s not an excuse, Cannon.” His assertiveness agitated me, even more so when he had the nerve to smirk at the livid expression on my face. “We. Can’t. Do. This.” The words slid through thin lips and clenched teeth. “You need to just forget this.”

  Undeterred, the smirk smoothed into a humorless smile as he gently cupped my face. While staring silently, the air thickened, making me more uncomfortable, sending my heartbeat into a frantic pounding, splintering my resolve.

  “That’s not in my nature, Red.”


  Chapter 19

  Cannon

  It was fun to test her boundaries and see how far I could go before the calm facade she hid behind crumbled. Either she was getting better at channeling her annoyance, or I was beginning to wear her down.

  I had to give her credit in that she didn’t hold a grudge. By the time we met for dinner a few hours after our park outing, she was back to her normal all business self. There had been plenty of opportunities for a repeat lip-locking session since then, but I thought it best not to push my luck. It was those missed opportunities that took center stage in and out of my dreams that night.

  After meeting for breakfast, we spent most of the day on Sunday hitting those iconic sights that all out-of-towners had to see while in the Big Apple. The entire thing bored me since I was never one to enjoy sightseeing among hordes of tourists. The only thing missing was a chorus of mooing as we shuffled through the narrow passageways like cattle.

  But put me on a park bench, or even sitting at an outdoor café, and I could spend hours people-watching, coming up with lyrics to match what I guessed their lives were like and why they were rushing about. Trying to figure out why a smile lifted lips when no one was near them, or why shadows hovered above some who looked like the world was ending. Now that fascinated me—a building, a museum, a lit metropolis saturated with superficial promulgation I could do without.

  But I didn’t want to seem ungrateful. I was in what arguably could be considered the greatest city on earth for the first time in my life, with a woman I’d follow to hell if need be. Life wasn’t so bad.

  The entire time, Lori tried her damnedest to play the role she was hell-bent on playing. It was when a pair of pretty eyes fixated on me, or if the woman even dared to strike up a conversation, that Lori’s inner snark would slip out. After a polite dismissal, I’d purposely place a firm hand on the center of Lori’s back, or link my fingers with hers, before leading us in a different direction. Feeling her stiffen just enough gave me an unexplainable satisfaction.