Bad Boy Makeover, page 3
Though at the moment she sincerely wanted to yank Drake all the way back to his mountain house by his chestnut hair and leave him there.
She redialed Cameron’s number, pacing back and forth across the carpet until he picked up. “Drake’s missing. So is the rest of his class.”
“He can’t be far,” he said. “No wheels and he’s too skittish to risk public transportation.”
“I’m worried about Jenny, not him.” Propelled by panic and adrenaline, she hurried back to the foyer and peered through the glass door straining to see a sign of her missing class. “You told me he’d cooperate.”
“And he has.”
“As if. He’s trouble with an oversized mountain of rocks on his shoulder. I should never have agreed to take him on. Big mistake.”
“Calm down.”
“I will not calm down.” She raised her voice a notch, felt the anger push her words through her white-hot brain. “These kids are my responsibility. Not yours. I promised the school counselor they’d be safe. Contained. And productive. Gallivanting around historic Asheville with a burnt-out, possibly jail bound rock star as their tour guide is not on the agenda.”
She was on a full-on verbal tear. One she’d rarely succumbed to, but damn it, Cameron had sworn Drake wasn’t the man the media portrayed. “Get your butt out of the diner, tell Lindsay to come with you, and when you find that no good… you take him back to his house and find a different way to get Drake Sheridan back on stage.”
She cut off the call without waiting for his reply. Disappointment and frustration prickled through her veins and skin. She wanted to throw the phone through the glass door. Her fingers shook as she scrolled through her cell’s contact list, then blasted a series of texts to Drake and his students.
Jenny got her own version of Kayla’s cellular siren.
Text screams for answers about their whereabouts remained unanswered and ten minutes later, she whipped open the door to let Cameron and Lindsay inside.
“None of their cells are on.”
“They’ll be okay,” he said, his voice soothing. “Drake won’t let anything happen to them. He’s a good guy. I’m sure he had a reason to leave.”
“How are we supposed to believe you?” Lindsay asked. “You’re not the same guy we knew back in high school. What if you’re no different than him? After all you used to hang out with Gabe.”
“Gabe and I were never friends.”
She heard the bitterness in his voice. The hardness accompanying the words. Cameron had suffered much under her brother’s relentless taunts and jeers. “I’m to blame for agreeing to take on Drake,” she said.
“Blame’s not going to solve this problem. What should we do?” Lindsay asked. “Call the police?”
Lindsay’s face, usually calm and serene, had tension lines drawing down her lips and tracking across her fair brow. Even her freckles appeared darker with the flush creeping across her cheeks.
Her unflappable sister-in-law looked more than worried, she appeared flustered. And no wonder with the way Cameron’s blue-green eyes smoldered whenever he locked gazes with Lindsay.
The former high school geek and second-string basketball towel boy had undergone a lot of changes since the days when Kayla had played multiple rounds of cards with him while waiting for Gabe to finish his practices. Which was also where she’d met her boyfriend at the time. A hot, bad boy in her school who played nice. Until he didn’t. If only she’d known that the jerk was a drug dealer. She’d never have dated him if she had and that had led to her brother’s addiction.
“No cops,” Cameron said.
“He’s the bad boy of rock and roll, under house arrest, and he’s supposed to be here.” Lindsay twisted her white work apron. “If anything—I mean anything— happens to Jenny I’ll…”
He took her hands in his. “I won’t let either of you get hurt.”
Her color deepened, matching the copper in her hair. She jerked away. “We can take care of ourselves.”
He shuttered his eyes, but she caught the glimmer of pain before he regained his composure. Poor guy still had it bad for Lindsay. Too bad Cameron wasn’t part of their lives. Not that she wanted to go back in time to change history. They had Jenny despite all of her brother’s mistakes.
And hers.
She tucked the troubling thought away. She’d paid for her mistaken trust in her high school boyfriend by focusing on making a difference in the lives of other young people. Her brother’s addiction may have started with her bringing a drug dealer into her family’s fold, but Gabe had to own his choices. There wasn’t any point in reliving her contribution to the mess he’d made of their lives.
A text blipped. Finally. She read, blinked, then reread the message.
“What is it? Is everything okay?” Lindsay asked.
“Jenny says they’re shopping. She says I won’t believe what Drake bought.”
She flipped over to her GPS program and located the tiny dot that was Jenny. “They’re a block from here.”
“Good,” Cameron said. “Text her and tell them to hurry back. The last thing we need is paparazzi finding him. That’s worse than the courts learning about this adventure. Which they will considering the ankle monitor. Though I’m working every angle to get that removed for good behavior.”
“Good behavior isn’t happening right now,” Lindsay said.
“I forgot about the media,” Kayla said. “Most likely they’ll start staking out the center.”
“You knew it would be a possibility when you agreed to my plan.”
“Yes, but I thought we’d have a little more time before the reporters found him.”
“He probably wasn’t thinking,” Lindsay said.
“Exactly,” she said. “Tell Drake the deal is off. As much as I wanted to help you and get community support for this program, I can’t help you. He’s too impulsive and I don’t have time to guard him while I’m here.”
“But our plan is working. You heard him play.”
“And that lasted all of how long?” She turned away from them. No. Drake wasn’t a person she wanted to wrangle. “He’s probably tricked you. Don’t make the same mistake I did by trusting him.”
“Drake’s nothing like your brother.,” Cameron said as the door opened. ”
“Of course, I’m not,” Drake said.
She whipped around, relief rushing through her and lifting the fear from her shoulders. She’d simply overreacted when she didn’t see her niece and deep down she’d believed her friend when he’d convinced her to help Drake that the rock and roll star would never harm someone unless thoroughly provoked and harassed—and that had happened after a devastating loss. “Where have you been for the last hour?” she asked.
“Mega Nine Acoustics.” He held the door as each one of his students tromped through. “Buying instruments.”
“So much for Plan A,” Cameron muttered as Jenny hoisted a bag filled with music books.
Lindsay hustled over to give her a huge hug. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”
“Mom, you’re way too overprotective,” Jenney said, rolling her eyes. “We needed to get some decent scores to sing. That’s all.”
“This is crazy,” Kayla said as Mark marched in carrying a guitar case.
“No,” Drake said. “This is awesome.”
Brian laughed. Mark grinned and grunted as he held his bass and gig bag over his shoulder. Natalie’s kohl rimmed eyes sparkled, and Adam had a lopsided smile.
“All right, back to the studio.” Drake closed the door and pointed to the hallway. “I’ll be there in ten.”
More laughter and giggles and tittering followed by shouts of anticipation cascaded through the center and pinged off the walls. The place hummed with energy and pulsed with excitement. She could feel their anticipation as if the air was malleable.
In less than two hours he’d shaped four apathetic youths and one star struck teen into a cohesive unit.
She gaped at the reason for their enthusiasm. Drake grinned and his joy reached his golden eyes. All of her objections to his mentorship faded the moment he locked his penetrating gaze on her.
He clapped Cameron on the back. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving your ass.”
“It didn’t need saving,” Drake said. “I was performing my community service. Plus I still have the ankle monitor tracking my every move.”
“But you left the premises without supervision,” she said. “How will we explain that to the judge when he gets the info from the security monitor?”
“Let Cameron worry about the judge. He’s good at fixing problems.” His lips quirked in a teasing smile. “I’ve got better things to wrap my brain around.”
She heard tambourines jingling, the sound of guitars tuning, a very bad bass riff. “Like what?”
“We’re starting a garage band and staging a concert for the city.” He leaned close to her, tilted his head to the right, then lifted an eyebrow. “You okay with that?”
He had a devilish glint in his eyes and looked pleased with himself in ways that the Cheshire Cat would envy. And he was close. Close enough to pounce on her. She inhaled the cologne he’d splashed on his jaw after he’d shaved, the leather he wore, the man’s intoxicating scent.
A flicker of feminine awareness sparked inside her, and heat coiled low, flaring long forgotten hormones to instant life.
“I think it’s fabulous.”
Lindsay’s enthusiastic endorsement of Drake’s plan loosened her tongue. “I hadn’t planned on anything that elaborate. Just some…”
He leaned closer. “Some what? Free babysitting? Because I’m not here to watch kids. I’m here to teach them.”
“Of course.” She shifted a few inches away from him, touched the hollow in her throat, and willed her pulse to stutter to a slower speed. “When and where do you plan to host this event?”
“Three months, maybe sooner if the drums arrive on time,” he said. “Here, or in the park near the Biltmore House. See you later, Warden.”
He winked, then left her standing in the foyer, her eyes still wide and her mind whirling with his natural sensual voltage.
Lindsay shifted closer to Cameron, then gave a little shake as if talking herself out of the idea. “Well, then… this is good. Really good. We should let him work. I’ll go back to the diner, finish up my shift, then get Jenny.”
“You might want to take the back exit.” she said after she peered over Cameron’s shoulder and through the center’s glass front door. “There are three news vans parked across the street.”
“Don’t tell Drake,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll help,” Lindsay said, taking out her cellphone. “Just texting the manager at the diner to tell her I’m wrapping things up here first.”
During the next hour, Lindsay helped her spirit all the students through the exit leading to the back alley. Meanwhile, Cameron had given the reporters a brief interview to keep them at bay. Two crews followed Cameron’s Porsche out of the parking lot, then she waved the last of Drake’s students out the front door.
“See you tomorrow, Brian,” she said. “And remember, don’t answer any questions.”
“I’m not talking about Drake or the band,” he said. “Not until after we perform.”
She noted the hint of pride in his voice. Drake had forged a bond with Brian. The kid had always needed someone to support him after his father had abandoned the family. Though his mother tried, she worked double shifts at the hospital to pay the bills which gave Brian a lot of time to get into trouble.
She had always had a warrior’s heart for young people. She’d fight to save them all with sheer will, but Brian had circumvented her efforts to reach him. In one short afternoon, Drake had chipped away at the barriers Brian had erected. The Bad Boy of Rock and Roll had more good in him than he was willing to admit. And that also endeared him to her more than she had expected.
She snicked the lock into place. Tomorrow she’d buy blinds to cover the glass and block out the growing swarm of reporters, cameramen, photographers and vans she knew weren’t going anywhere now that they had discovered Drake’s whereabouts.
The hassle was worth the result.
Music had spilled through the corridors and rooms, some of it bad, some good. Singing. She’d heard Jenny and Natalie belting out an old rock song thirty minutes ago. She’d heard instruments tuning. She’d heard laughter.
She’d listened for problems, but only heard kids being happy.
Drake had been relaxed too. She’d heard him laugh and joke around with his students. Every once in a while, she’d peep into the classroom to monitor the progress. Even now the memory of his relaxed, easy-going patience with the students warmed her soul and lightened her spirit.
She gathered her purse and cell phone. “You ready?” she called when she reached the music studio.
A soft melody played in the room. She listened to the song, but didn’t recognize the haunting ballad.
His powerful voice sent shivers along her spine and a surge of longing welled inside her. The threads of each musical chord were like a seductive web closing in around her. She stepped inside, careful to keep quiet so she could hear the rest of his song.
He’d shuttered his eyes, his face etched with lines so deep they looked more painful than the song’s poignant lyrics.
Her heart stopped for a beat, then two. She squeezed her dance bag’s strap. He’d so much to offer his fans, the music world, himself. His music had the power to heal his broken spirit. But he’d wanted to throw his talent away. To hear him play and perform now was a gift.
His beautiful voice caressed her with wave after wave of intensity and sound. His spellbinding song lassoed her heart and drew her closer. She stepped lightly, moving toward him on a whisper of a walk. Toward the man who’d captured her own memories of pain and heartbreak and losses.
When she reached his side, he stopped and the last notes drifted away. He closed the lid over the keyboard. She could see the white skin stretched taut over his knuckles. She wanted to take his hand, but clutched her purse strap instead.
“What’s your song called?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light.
He locked his topaz eyes on her. “Nothing. Just a few words strung together that aren’t going anywhere.”
The air between them grew tight as an overstretched guitar wire. One more twist and the molecules holding them apart would snap. “Sounded like they should go somewhere to me.” She fiddled with the zipper on her bag and searched for a neutral subject. “You really think you can pull off your plan to make your kids into a rock band?”
“Yes.” He stood. “Paparazzi still out front?”
“Cameron fooled them, so we’re safe.”
“For now.” He lifted his black gear bag and angled his head toward the door. “Ready to haul me back up the mountain?”
“Not yet,” she said. “I want to know more about your concert.”
“What do you want to know, Warden?”
“Are you participating?”
“Yes.”
Excitement sprang and leaped inside her stomach. Cameron’s plan had worked beyond their expectations. “You’re playing? Singing?”
She couldn’t hide her enthusiasm, but he held up a finger. “I’m running the soundboard. I told Cameron before and I’ll tell you now—I’m never taking the stage again.”
Frustration zipped along her nerves. She wanted to shout or shake some sense into his iron-willed mind. “Why are you throwing away your future? If I…” She stopped the rest of her tirade with a frustrated inner shake.
He closed the distance between them. “If what?”
His amber, hypnotic eyes snared her. But she refused to answer. He’d no right to capture all her secrets when he’d buried his with guilt and anger.
Inches separated them and the air thrummed with his persistent probing for her story. “If I were you, I’d be grateful for the chance to save my career.”
She would have grasped at a chance to dance again if only to lose her pain in her passion. But she hadn’t floundered. She’d survived and had grabbed hold of the opportunities given to her and reinvented her dreams.
“If I could have my career without all the hassle, I’d go back to the stage.” He brushed her cheek with his lips. “Tell you what warden, when I finish this song I’ll perform for you. And you alone. Live. In my mountain house.”
Heat blazed across her face and a feminine awareness flared throughout her body. She pressed her fingers to her cheek. His sensual promise meant more than a night of him singing and her applauding his efforts.
What frightened her more than his bad boy image was the good guy she’d caught a glimpse of today. “I’m not that kind of girl,” she said.
“You’re not?”
He moved his hand up her bag’s strap and stopped when he bumped into her flesh. Her grip slackened. Slowly, with the patience of a cougar, he covered her trembling hand with his. He turned her palm upward and brought it to his mouth. The kiss was soft, then she felt the hot wet slide of his lower lip glide over her skin.
The room spun and tilted, her eyes lost focus. She felt lightheaded, dizzy with desire. But she had no intention of becoming one of his conquests.
“You’ll be free to indulge in your bad boy fantasies with your groupies soon enough.”
“I’d rather turn you into my greatest fan.”
His voice was low, deep and as enticing as a decadent slice of chocolate pie. Oh, to taste him and to indulge. His hand felt warm on hers, strong and firm. His sensual rocker attitude attracted her just as it has attracted thousands of other females. But the man hiding beneath the leather jacket and wounded soul intrigued her even more.
The feeling, the curiosity weaving through her had no place penetrating her guard. She’d lost her so much—her parents, her brother, her dancing—ten years ago. If she acted on her impulse and let her emotions rule her head, she’d find trouble again.
She’d fallen for the wrong guy years ago and she’d lost everything that mattered to her. Her dancing career, her parents, herself. Drake might not be a true bad guy like he’d led the media to believe, but she didn’t dare risk being wrong about him either.
