Читать книгу In For Keeps / Under His Touch - Taryn Belle, Cathryn Fox - Страница 14

ONLY SIX COOKIES LEFT? How the hell had that happened?

Kiki stared guiltily at the Chips Ahoy! package beside the open, crumb-riddled jar of Fluff on her coffee table. She didn’t even have the decency to binge on quality junk food—not that she had much choice. Her monthly shopping trip to neighboring Barbados was due next week, and in the meantime she was forced to make do with the paltry selection at the island’s tiny, overpriced grocery store.

A key rattled in the front door of her cottage and Kiki’s roommate, Nicola, walked in, trailed by Alex.

Kiki reached for another chocolate chip cookie.

Nicola gave Kiki a teasing smile as she tossed her work satchel onto the kitchen counter. “I thought you said you were cutting back?”

“This is me cutting back,” Kiki said grumpily, sinking her teeth into the dry, crumbly sweetness. She hoped to hell that enough time had passed since her recent crying jag to allow her face to return to normal. Nicola was the best friend she’d ever had; the women had known each other for a decade, meeting in LA long before Nicola had followed her to Moretta six months ago. And Kiki was genuinely thrilled that her friend had found true love with Alex, but she really didn’t feel like explaining herself to him or anyone else right now. She must have still looked a mess, though, because Alex cleared his throat as he stood at the door. “Nicola, didn’t you say you were out of coffee? I’ll just run out and grab some. Need anything else?”

“Nothing that comes from the store,” Nicola said, giving him a lingering kiss before he slipped out the door.

To her horror, Kiki felt tears pricking at her eyes again. What was it about her friend falling madly in love that made Kiki feel like a total loser? Just a month ago she’d been proud of her attachment-free sex life. And then Dev had come along. Now she knew for sure that she could feel the kind of mind-blowing passion she thought only existed for others, like Nicola.

And Kiki couldn’t have him.

“Okay,” Nicola said, kicking her flip-flops off and dropping down on the sofa beside Kiki. “Talk to me.”

“It won’t help,” Kiki said stubbornly, stuffing the last of the cookie into her mouth.

“Neither will eating your way into oblivion,” Nicola pointed out, using her toe to push the package away from Kiki. “Or keeping everything bottled up inside.”

Kiki snorted. “It’s kind of what I do—you should know that by now. Talking might help some people, but it doesn’t help me.”

“I guess that explains why we’ve been living together for nearly seven months and you still haven’t told me why your marriage ended,” Nicola said archly.

“I told you exactly what happened. Jack was a world-class prick,” Kiki responded, turning her face away. No—that was not a conversation Kiki was willing to have right now, if ever. “Anyway, it’s not true that I don’t tell you anything. I told you all about my sad-luck childhood that night we drank way too much tequila. And it didn’t make me feel any better, FYI. Just saying.”

“That’s because you had a hangover the size of planet Earth the next day. Just saying,” Nicola retorted. “Now tell me what’s going on with you. You’ve been acting weird ever since that night at Dev’s—which is understandable,” she added quickly. “I mean, I was traumatized, too. But it does make me wonder, is it those slimeballs that’ve still got you down, or is it Dev?”

“Dev? I’m a little smarter than that, but thanks. Even if I was looking for a boyfriend—which I’m definitely not—he’s pretty much the last person on earth I’d get involved with.”

“Oh, yeah? And why is that?”

“Why? Are you even—”

“Dev is a good guy, Kiki—he’s Alex’s brother! And you like him.” She shook her head. “I mean, have you ever noticed that the term rock star is not synonymous with single? Have you ever noticed that they get married and have kids just like everyone—”

Kiki felt herself flush. “Oh, my God! Will you please shut the fuck up?” She took a deep breath. Dev was only one of her problems, and Nicola clearly wasn’t going to let up until she spilled something to her. “Okay, fine. It’s...it’s my mother.”

Nicola looked at her in shock. “Your mother?”

Kiki nodded rapidly to stop the threatening tears. There were only three people she’d ever shared the story of her mother with—her ex-husband, her high school best friend Laina, and, during a late-night drinkfest years ago in LA, Nicola. “Yes. I... I think I might have found her.”

Nicola jumped up excitedly. “Oh, my God! Are you serious? That’s amazing! How? Where is she? Have you gotten in touch—”

“No, no, no.” Kiki waved an impatient hand. “This just came up. I found a website for a real estate agency, and one of the agents is named Victoria O’Hare. That’s her maiden name, and it’s possible she stopped going by Vicky. And—I don’t know, but there’s a photo of her. The last picture I have of her is from twenty-four years ago, but...this woman has red hair.” Kiki shook her head and then dropped it into her hands. “I’m terrified, Nic,” she said through her fingers. “Freaking terrified. I wish I never looked. I didn’t—for two years I didn’t, and then I had to go and start again.”

“That’s because she’s half of you,” Nicola said gently, placing a hand on Kiki’s arm. “You moved here to heal, but this place also allowed you to bury the things in your life you didn’t want to look at. But they come back—they always come back. You need closure with her.”

“But what if she wants nothing to do with me? I’m too scared to email her. What if she doesn’t write back? Or what if I scare her off and she goes into hiding again? What—what if she just doesn’t want to hear from me? I mean, she knows my name—she named me! If she wanted anything to do with me, she could have reached out anytime. It’s been twenty-four years, and nothing.”

“Oh, honey...” Nicola reached for her hand. “You for a daughter? She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Tears flooded Kiki’s eyes. “But that’s the whole point—she does! She’s the one who left me, remember? I was six years old. She knew exactly what she was doing.”

“But she didn’t leave you alone,” Nicola reminded her. “She knew you had your father, and he’s an amazing dad. Listen...” She tightened her grip on Kiki’s hand. “You need to meet with her in person—just show up at her work and force her to see you. I’ll go with you, okay? Where is she? She’s not still in Atlanta, is she?”

“That’s the thing.” Kiki shook her head in disbelief. “This woman is in Sydney, of all places. As in Australia. Which makes me think it can’t be her—why would she travel so far, unless it was to get as far away from me as possible?”

Nicola looked thoughtful. “Well, that is strange,” she admitted. “But it could happen. People end up all over the world for all sorts of different reasons. Just look at us—a couple of girls from the States. Who would have thought we’d end up living in the middle of the Caribbean?”

“Yeah, I guess so...” When Kiki pulled her T-shirt up to dab at her eyes, Nicola went to the kitchen to grab her a paper towel. Then she sank down on the sofa beside her again. “What?” Kiki asked when she felt her friend’s eyes on the side of her face.

“Just waiting, that’s all. There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

“My God, you’re a pain in the ass.” Kiki sighed deeply. “Okay. This is kind of crazy, but Dev offered me a job today. His tour assistant just quit and he needs a new one. Would you please stop fucking smiling?” Kiki threw her hands up in annoyance. “I said no, of course. But here’s the crazy part. His tour will take him to Sydney. And I—I really can’t afford to go otherwise. I mean, to spend that kind of money to go and check out a remote possibility? It’s just not going to happen on my bartending tips.”

“So it’s a sign!” Nicola said, clapping her hands together. “Come on—you have to accept!”

“But I can’t! It’s—it’s Dev! We had a...a thing, and that messes everything up. I mean, watching him get swarmed by groupies for weeks on end? No thank you. And besides, I have a life here...” she ended weakly, thinking that did have a life here felt more accurate right now.

“Listen, sweetie. I know it might not be the perfect scenario, but this is a lifetime opportunity. Eventually you have to get back to the real world anyway, and this is your chance to start a new career. Remember—the Kiki I met in LA was a go-getter with big career goals! But more important, this is a chance to find your mother, and you can’t pass that up. No matter what may or may not happen between you and Dev,” she added when she saw the protest forming on Kiki’s face.

Oh, God. Nicola was right, Kiki knew, but just the thought of it—leaving the safety of her island world and her easygoing job, working side by side with Dev, confronting the woman who had abandoned her as a child—was enough to tie her stomach in knots.

“You are a survivor,” Nicola went on, her voice strong with emotion. “And you’ve never been one to take the safe route. Even if I don’t know the details of what happened between you and Jack, I know that by moving here and shaking your life up, you took a huge risk to find happiness. This might scare you more than anything you’ve ever done, but fear won’t stop you. It never has.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Brené Brown.” Kiki smiled weakly as a knock sounded at the door. Knowing it was Alex back from the store, she quickly flicked her tears away and ran a hand over her hair. Nicola rose to greet him, but though the aqua eyes belonging to the man on the landing were identical to Alex’s, this man had a power over Kiki that his brother didn’t have.

Dev.

“Hi there,” he said, transferring the Beats he was wearing on his ears to around his neck. His gaze rested on Kiki, making her belly flop over. “I hope I’m not...?”

“No, it’s fine,” Kiki said. Nicola stepped aside, and Dev walked over the threshold. There was a rock star in her house. Kiki almost laughed aloud as she cast a glance around, comparing her tiny combined kitchen, living and dining area to his sprawling beachside home.

“Listen,” he said. “I just—there was something I didn’t say to you today, and I couldn’t leave without being honest.”

“I think you were pretty damned honest,” Kiki said as she stood. “If I recall.”

Nicola grabbed her handbag from the coffee table. “I’ll just—”

“No,” Dev said quickly. “You’re her best friend, and I’m fine for you to hear this. Just...” He took a breath. “A tour is a really intense experience, and I need the right people to get me through it. I know I’ve just sprung this on you out of nowhere, but I want you to know that the real reason I want you with me is because I trust you. And that’s hard for me to come by.”

Kiki absorbed his words. “But...you don’t know me well enough to trust me.”

“I know, and that’s the crazy thing. I can’t explain it, but I felt it the moment I met you.” He shook his head. “I’m making this weird for you. I don’t want you to accept because you feel obligated to. But if you do, it’s your terms, okay? Business only—if that’s what you want.”

Kiki swallowed hard. There were so many reasons to accept and only one reason not to. But that reason was huge, because it was Dev. It would take every bit of her strength to make it to the end of six weeks with her virtue intact, not to mention her heart. The only way this would work would be for her to develop a resolve of steel.

Dev was looking at her with something close to pleading in his eyes. It’s still a no, she opened her mouth to say, but it didn’t come out. “I, uh...”

“—accept your offer, for double my regular salary,” Nicola coached her with a mischievous grin. “Right, Kiki?”

Kiki nodded slowly as Dev’s mouth turned upward into a grin. Holy shit—was she actually going to do this? “I guess so,” she said hesitantly. “But I’ll have to meet up with you in a week or so. I have to tie things up here, make sure my boss can get someone to cover for me...” She stopped when she saw the sheepish expression on Dev’s face. “What is it?”

He squeezed his eyes shut as if he were in pain, and then he directed them at the floor. “I might have just come from talking to him. And I might have also arranged to cover your portion of the rent while you’re away. Which means you can theoretically fly out with me on Tuesday...” He finally lifted his eyes to Kiki, cringing as if he expected her to hit him.

Which was exactly what she should do. She jumped up furiously. “You have got some nerve. Let’s make one thing perfectly clear, okay? You are not in charge in my life. And if you ever pull something like this again, I’ll be on the first flight back here—no matter where in the world we are.”

“Of course,” Dev agreed. “I’m sorry, I just, um...so this means I’ll see you on Tues—?”

Kiki made an exasperated sound in her throat and marched toward her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Then she leaned against it, trying to process what she’d just committed to. A new job. The possibility of finding her mother. And Dev...oh, God.

Just breathe. You’ll be fine. Just breathe.

Dev repeated the mantra in his head as he stood in the bathroom of the private Learjet 40 en route to London. But the familiar feeling of panic was setting in even earlier than it usually did. He hadn’t even begun rehearsals and he was already a mess. A month ago he’d entertained the idea that he might get through this tour drug-free, but the futility of that thought was now all too obvious. In his whole career, he hadn’t made it through a single performance without some kind of helper.

No point in suffering with relief so close at hand, Dev thought. Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out the bottle of pills. He spilled them onto his hand and counted five. This batch was left over from his last tour, and the label informed him that the tablets had expired a month ago. But they would do until Bix gave him a new supply in a few days. Dev could always count on Bix to take care of the details. Sure, he could have gone to a doctor for the prescription himself, but that was how secrets got out—and this was one he planned on taking to the grave.

He dropped four pills back into the bottle and held one in his hand. Xanax. His little helper for the past three years, ever since he’d built up enough tolerance to Valium to make it lose its effect. On show night he’d mix it with two propranolol to get himself onstage, and more often than not he’d need to take an Ambien to come down afterward—the classic combo for anxiety-ridden housewives and celebrities that more often than not led to addiction.

But Dev couldn’t worry about that right now.

He knew that as long as he kept his helpers under control he’d be fine. He always got off the stuff as soon as his tours ended, and it wasn’t like he was doing real drugs. His were legal, regulated, doctor prescribed. He even avoided alcohol when he was on them like the label said. He was nothing like many of his peers, who combined booze with the hard stuff night after night. He may have done some of that indulging in his early days, but now he couldn’t imagine taking anything like that before a show—the drugs revved him up enough to keep him awake for hours afterward. That’s where the Ambien came in, and when he didn’t take it he paid the price. The dead of night was when the dark monster of his reality came crashing into his bed. Other musicians can handle the stage, so why can’t you? How long do you think you can go on like this before you’re hooked? the monster asked him with its ember eyes. Having a warm body in his bed had always helped keep the monster away—until about a year ago, when the emptiness he felt each morning when he awoke to women with names long forgotten was worse than any empty bed.

And then she’d come along. Kiki. Not only the hottest fuck of his life, but gorgeous, independent, totally unaffected and unimpressed by his career. Offering her the job had probably been a mistake. He’d be up close with her day after day, which meant his secret was in danger—and she was the last person on earth he wanted to discover it. He hadn’t been thinking straight that day in the bar, when he’d been overtaken with lust at the sight of her. And then he’d laid all that shit on her about trust. All of it was true, but it was a wonder she hadn’t run away screaming. People didn’t just come out and say things like that when they barely knew each other, but it was like she’d messed with all of his wires to turn him into a raging, sex-starved honesty machine. And the real hell of it was that she hadn’t said no to his strictly business proposal. All the same, he promised himself, he would leave it up to her—no matter how wild she drove him.

Dev left the bathroom, slipped the bottle of pills into his carry-on and walked back to his seat. Kiki was sitting exactly where he’d left her, deeply engrossed in her notes. God, but she was something. He knew she had to be at least a little dazzled by the private plane, but she hadn’t even commented on it. She may have been fiery, but she was also down-to-earth. Grounded. The exact opposite of him.

“It’s still four hours to London,” he said, sliding into the leather seat across from her. “It wouldn’t kill you to take a break.”

“I have a lot to learn to get up to speed,” she replied without looking up. “Now, where were we?”

“I was telling you about Bix. He’ll meet us for the first show on Sunday night,” Dev said, tapping two fingers on his armrest. They were seated across from each other with a small fold-down table between them. His legs were long enough that his knees would touch Kiki’s if they both faced forward, but she had angled hers away from him into the aisle. She was wearing a simple black dress that screamed First day on the new job, but its conservative cut was hopeless at hiding her sexiness. She still had her eyes aimed at her notebook, so he let his eyes drift down to her bare legs.

The crazy thing was that Kiki wasn’t even his regular type—he normally preferred his women tall and willowy. But Dev loved her tiny frame, the curve of her hips, the way her small breasts strained beneath her modest neckline. The way their bodies had moved that night had proven how perfect they were together. And now she was close enough to touch, not to mention all alone with him. When he thought about what they could be doing right now, what use they could make of the sleeping quarters—it was killing him.

“...road crew?”

He jerked his eyes up to find her looking at him expectantly, pen poised. Those wide blue eyes under delicately arched brows. That long hair falling over her breasts in a smooth curtain. The crease in her dress right between her legs.

Focus.

“Uh, yeah. You’ll meet them in London,” Dev said. “Scotty—my bassist—is flying in from Chicago today. He and Stuart will—”

“Stuart?” Kiki interrupted.

“My drummer. He’s flying into London from Brussels.”

“Got it. Speaking of which...” She lifted a sheet of paper up from the small table between them. “According to this itinerary, you’re staying at The Connaught with the rest of the band. Is that a mistake? I’d imagine you’d want to stay at home while you’re in town.”

Damn—she didn’t miss a thing. Dev had moved from LA to London a decade ago, but his Kings Cross penthouse felt less and less like home since he’d bought the house on Moretta. His flat screamed of the bachelor days and rock star nights of his twenties, and that just wasn’t where his head was anymore. “It’s just easier if the band is all together,” he said, which also happened to be the truth. “I’ll pop by at some point to make sure the place is still standing, pick up some clothes. By the way, we’re only staying in hotels in London and Paris. After the Paris show we move to tour buses for the remainder of the European leg. Once we’re in Australia we’ll be in hotels again.”

“I know. I’ve already confirmed all the bookings,” she said, glancing down at her notes. “What about rehearsals? I don’t see anything about that.”

“The three of us will spend the rest of the week rehearsing at Ryder Studios. We already put in a good round a month ago, so we’re pretty tight.”

Tight. Good God, could he really not say such a banal word without thinking about how Kiki’s pussy had felt around his cock? How old was he, fifteen? He seriously needed to get a grip, but now that the door had been opened, his cock was all in. All he could think about was stripping her down and fucking her until she screamed, flight crew be damned. He shifted in his seat to hide his raging erection. This line of thinking wasn’t going to help anything.

The drone of the engine filled the silence as a flight attendant entered the cabin. “Something to drink, Mr. Stone?” she asked, holding out a cheese board.

“A club soda, please,” Dev said, plucking a cracker and a wedge of Brie from the platter.

“What, no champagne?” Kiki asked without looking up. “Pretty impressive for a rock star.”

If you only knew, Dev thought. “Would you please stop calling me that?”

“What? Impressive?” She looked up at him under long lashes, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. He caught a brief glimpse of zebra-print panties.

He was going to fucking lose it. He hit a button on his armrest, filling the cabin with the sound of Coldplay.

Kiki tilted her head at him. “You don’t like silence, do you?”

Dev started. Didn’t he? He’d never thought about it before. “I’m a musician. I think it makes sense that I enjoy listening to music.”

Kiki gazed back at him until he felt like squirming. Her eyes held a knowing look, as if she could see all of his secrets. Like she knew shit about him that he didn’t even know himself. No one had ever known him like that, and it was unnerving.

Suddenly she stood up and stretched her arms to the sides. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m going to try out my bed.”

And with that she walked away, leaving Dev alone with his club soda and his tortured imagination.