SSFCollection1 Ebook, page 26
Another tear fell, uninhibited this time.
“I wish we were closer, darlin’, I do, but for now, it has to be as it is.” I nodded. He was right. I knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to accept. He’d joked about me moving to California. The sunshine. The mild temperature. Him. But I never took the teasing as a bona fide offer. “I wish you’d told me how you felt. You don’t have to hold back with me.”
I snorted unattractively.
“What is that?” Tommy demanded.
“Tommy, why are you even with me? You could have anyone. Someone more like Deanna Kaye.”
He released my hands and sat back, staring at me a moment.
“Darlin’, do you think I didn’t notice how your ex sized me up? I don’t give two shits about him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t read his thoughts. He doesn’t think I’m good enough for you. Do you know how that makes me feel? How I know he’s right in a million ways? My world is upside-down and backward most days, with shit I’d never want your innocent heart to see or bear. I question why you’re with me just as much. The only thing I’m confident of is it’s not because I’m a former rock star or affiliated with Collision. You’ve already proved that to me with your atrocious musical knowledge.” His eyes sparkled, and his face relaxed. “So, what do I have to do to prove to you that I want only you? That I’m sitting in Arizona, fighting with you over your worth, because you are worth everything to me, huh?”
More tears fell and I swiped at my cheeks. I didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t like I had a checklist. I just had trouble accepting what we were doing, but I realized I was wasting precious time when we were together by having this conversation. I reached for his hand and tugged him toward me. He leaned forward, his eyes aiming for my lips, but as he got close, I stood.
“Darlin’?”
I gently yanked at his hand and stepped forward, guiding him to follow me. A few more steps, and I was suddenly scooped up into his arms. Kicking my legs and laughing as my arms wrapped around his neck, we were almost to his room when the main door of the suite opened.
“Get a room,” West teased, Masie bumping into his back.
“I have one,” Tommy hollered, but something in my face must have told him I couldn’t do this with Masie in the room. I couldn’t let him take me to his room with my daughter watching us.
“Put me down, please,” I whispered. He stopped and set me on my feet.
“Maybe you’re embarrassed of me after all, darlin’,” he muttered as he spun away from me and returned to the table. Sitting down, he dug into a cold dinner while I’d completely lost my appetite.
+ +
West and Masie left shortly after their return as West said he knew somewhere he could take Masie that didn’t require her to be carded. As soon as they left I was on Tommy, literally. The door closed and I crossed the suite to straddle him, gripping his face, nails dragging through his salt-and-pepper scruff.
“Don’t ever say that again,” I growled, trying to tease down my serious tone. “I am not embarrassed by you, and I don’t know why you would even say that. But I need you to respect that I’m not a groupie, and I’m not like the boys in the band. I can’t run off in front of a group, knowing that they know I’m about to have sex with you. And I especially can’t do it in front of my daughter.”
His hands curled around my wrists, and he tugged out of my grip.
“I’m sorry, darlin’. I shouldn’t have said that. I was…frustrated.” His mouth came to mine too briefly, and as he pulled back, I cupped his cheeks again.
“Well, time to un-frustrate.” My mouth came to his and demanded he open for me, swiping across the seam of his lips and begging his tongue to play with mine. He kissed me back, opening for me as he gripped my hips and pulled me fully onto his lap. His hunger built and mine matched. I was starving for him.
Standing, I held out my hand, leading him once again toward the bedroom. Within seconds, he was before me, tugging me along and slamming the door, flipping the lock.
“I’m not taking chances this time.” My shirt was over my head by his hands, and my fingers worked his belt buckle and zipper. We crossed the room disrobing one another until my knees hit the bed, and he pushed me backward. I scooted up the mattress, and he followed like a predator after prey. When my head hit the pillows, I stopped, and he lowered over me. His mouth found mine as he positioned himself at my entrance, but I pressed his shoulders, hinting that I wanted him to roll to his back. He flipped us, and my legs spread, straddling over him. I sat back and held him upright, stroking him.
“Darlin’, if you don’t get me inside you, I’m gonna explode all over your hand.” Giggling, I pressed up on my knees, balanced on his tip, and then slammed down to envelop him. We groaned in unison as my hands came to his abs. Slowly, I rolled over him, developing a rhythm that held him deep within me. His hand slipped between us and his thumb caught me, pressing in a circular motion. Something came over me, and my hips rocked faster, my channel clenched harder, and my eyes closed with the sensation of losing control. Tension rolled off of me, and a new tension built. His name became a litany of hyperventilating puffs of air mixed with the struggle to cry his name.
My toes curled, and my thighs clamped at his hips. I held still and threw back my head. The release was sweet and spiraling, and I was still coming when he sat forward and flipped me to my back. Braced on his hands, he hammered into me, thrusting and delving, wild and reckless like we hadn’t been before. “Faster” and “harder” crossed my lips in a whisper. “Fuck, darlin’,” crossed his. The bed squeaked with the rapid motion, and the headboard banged on the wall. He stilled, and that internal pulse of his release set me off again. My hands gripped the globes of his ass, forcing him to remain inside me. Moments later, he collapsed on top of me.
“Sweet Jesus, that came from my toes,” he muttered into my neck. I giggled, as I understood the feeling. “I don’t like to fight with you, darlin’, but if that’s how we make up, I’ll fight you every day for the rest of our lives.”
“How about if we don’t fight and just make love like that the rest of our lives?” A moment passed as the words lingered, the reality of their meaning settling around us like pillow feathers floating to the bed. Tommy’s head popped up and he stared down at me.
“I’d make love to you the rest of our lives, if you’d let me,” he whispered.
“I’d let you.” My quiet voice answered. I’d let him have anything he wanted if he kept looking at me the way he was in that moment—like the rest of our lives was everything he wanted.
+ +
The next day we went to watch Caleb’s game. Tommy and West had obtained tickets, and I could only image what favors were pulled to get entrance to the sold-out stadium. We sat mid-section along the first base line, as Caleb was a first baseman. He waved when he saw us and signaled for Tommy and West to approach the dugout. A manly handshake and a slap on the back from Tommy, and the same for West, showed how much of a bond my son had made with these men in such a short time. After Caleb played the New Year’s Eve concert, his love of music renewed, and I noticed he took his guitar with him to training even though it had sat in his room at home during college, untouched. A dream died when he no longer touched those strings. He hid his passion from his not-so-understanding father, eventually dismissing it altogether to concentrate on sports in high school.
David spotted Masie and I, and made his way to our seats. He nodded at me, his eyes drifting away as he sat next to Masie. She was typing on her phone, disinterested in the stats her father read off to her about the players. Tommy and West made their way back to our row, pausing at the end of the aisle for David to stand as customary at a ball game when people have seats in the same row. David eyed the baseball jersey of Caleb’s team that Tommy wore, open and exposing a white T-shirt. West wore a matching one, buttoned up and hanging loosely outside his jeans. A backward baseball cap covered his dark hair. David turned to me.
“What is this?”
“Dad, you met West at dinner, and you already met Tommy,” Masie said as way of intervention. David sat back and twisted his legs, hardly allowing room for West and Tommy to enter the row of narrow stadium seats. Masie and I stood, and I stepped over a space so West could sit between Masie and me. I remained standing, letting Tommy go around me, but he stopped in front of me. Our bodies pressed together in the tight space, and his hand came up so quickly, I hardly registered his intention until after his mouth took mine. The kiss deepened, and I melted into him before I remembered where we were. A flash snapped to my left. Tommy released me, but kept his eyes trained on my lips.
“I think someone just took your picture.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” His lips curled, and he bit the corner. My smile slowly matched his.
“You’re a bad man, Tommy Carrigan,” I teased.
“I think that’s why you like me.” He winked as he finished passing me and folded into his seat. His arm slung behind me over the stadium chair, and he toyed with my shoulder while the team finished their warm-up. David’s eyes bored into the side of my head, but I refused to look at him. He once found me undesirable, but a very desirable man just proved something it took me a long time to accept—David was wrong. My hand came to Tommy’s thigh, and he looked down at it over his jeans.
“Making a statement, darlin’?” he teased. I rolled my head to face him, my smile growing.
“Weren’t you?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely, beautiful.” He chuckled, and I shook my head as I laughed as well.
+ +
Someone had taken our picture, and a few days later, I was the mystery woman on Tommy’s social media. Speculation was that I was a one-night stand in Arizona where Lawson Colt was on family business. To my surprise and relief, Masie was completely blocked from the position of Tommy in the photo. Weston Reid, bass guitarist for Collison, and my high school daughter were of no interest.
“Don’t let it get to you,” Tommy commented through Skype after we all returned to our respective homes.
“I’m more worried about you. What will happen when they discover I’m in manufacturing, not modeling?” I was mostly blocked as well by Tommy’s hand cupping my face. There would only be a handful of people who could recognize me, and they’d have to be stalking Tommy like I did to see the photo in the first place. I laughed at my joke, but Tommy’s face drew near the computer screen.
“You’re fucking beautiful, and every man within a fifty-mile radius wants in your jeans. And if you were a model, men would want you for your fame and not your personality, which is off the charts gorgeous.”
I stared at him, blinking rapidly.
“You say the damnedest things sometimes, you know that? I’m just speechless.”
“Well, get used to it. Besides, I have better use for those pretty lips than talking.”
He was a bad boy.
“So when can we see each other next?” We hadn’t had much alone time in the shared quarters with Masie and West. West eventually did take the couch, and Masie and I bunked together, only I found my daughter curled over a sleeping West in the early morning. Innocently dressed, they were wrapped around one another and my heart pinched at the youthfulness of love.
“April 22,” Tommy said at the same time I said, “April 15.”
“Can’t do the fifteenth, darlin’, I have a meeting in New York.”
“I have to bring Masie to California for a campus tour at Santa Clara University.”
“I thought she selected Marquette,” Tommy replied, knowing I’d hoped she’d decide on a school in the Midwest. Marquette had been one of her choices, but Santa Clara University offered her scholarship money we hadn’t expected. David promised her he’d cover the rest, if that scholarship came through. I couldn’t turn down the opportunity for her, even if I was anxious that David wouldn’t hold up his end of the deal. I’d never be able to afford the school on my salary.
“She did, but I told her we could look at Santa Clara. I’m hoping she hates it,” I teased.
Tommy scoffed. “Darlin’, one look at California and she’s going to love it here.” I bit my cheek, tempted to tell him I wouldn’t know. He’d been to see me twice, and the one time I went there, he whisked me off to Napa Valley, which was beautiful in its own right, but not the portion of California I wanted to know better.
“You know that’s only like five hours away from me. So, you’re coming all the way here, and I won’t be here.” A hand wiped over his face. “Can’t you reschedule?”
“She has a day off of school, so timing-wise it worked best. Plus, she has to decide by May first. What about you? Can’t you reschedule?”
“Can’t, babe. We’ve been waiting for this meeting for months. It finalizes the tour.”
The tour kicked off in June, and I sensed the stress each time Tommy mentioned the details. Forty-three days on the road. I couldn’t imagine.
“Well, another weekend.” I sighed, pasting on a false smile with my fake cheeriness. After the April date, Masie had prom, graduation, and a slew of parties and activities commemorating the end of high school. I didn’t have a free weekend until June, when the tour started. “I’ll get to see Ivy this time,” I added. Excitement filled me at seeing my young friend and learning more about her secret project, which she still hadn’t announced to her husband. She knew I was coming before I told Tommy, assuring me that I’d at least see her house as she offered a place for Masie and me to stay. Tommy’s brow pinched at the mention of Ivy, and that old feeling of something kept from me crept through me.
17
Secret Therapy
“Isn’t it beautiful?” The rundown building before me wasn’t exactly something I’d consider architecturally stunning, but the old church had potential. Ivy stared at me as if desperate for my approval, and I didn’t want to disappoint her.
“It’s got possibilities,” I murmured, my hands tucked in my jacket pockets as I surveyed the building once again. I wasn’t convinced this was the safest of areas, but my knowledge of Los Angeles was limited to my first official visit. Masie and I flew into San Jose on Thursday evening, took her campus tour on Friday morning, and then flew to LAX in the afternoon. My heart dropped, knowing Tommy was probably somewhere in that airport taking off at the same time we landed. Ivy picked us up, refusing to allow us to stay anywhere but at her modest home along Malibu Beach, and when I say modest, it’s with full tongue-in-cheek. The home was gorgeous, set along the coast with an endless view of the ocean. White sand was her backyard and the glass exposure hid nothing. It was breathtaking.
Tommy had offered his house, but I refused on principle. I didn’t wish to intrude without a proper introduction to his home from him.
“I know, right?” Ivy squeaked, her excitement hardly concealed as she tugged at my arm to follow her. A realtor had already sold her the location, and lawyers were involved in the details of her future music therapy school. “It’s perfect.” The sigh in her voice was nothing other than pure love for this facility and a dream coming to fruition.
“And how is Gage taking all this?” I asked. A dismissive wave gave me my answer. As my baby-bump-friend waddled to the front entrance, fear harbored inside me that her husband wasn’t going to share her enthusiasm, especially after he found out she hid all the details from him.
Pulling me into the church, construction plans were pinned to a wall, sketching out the division of the massive space into therapy rooms for both small and large groups.
“It has the perfect acoustics, but also all these niches for intimate study.” Her face beamed with the thrill of helping others in a way someone raised in music might enjoy—by sharing the gift. With hands clasped reverently beneath her chin, she walked slowly through the open forum, eyes wide as if she could already envision the layout. I sighed behind her, my shoulders falling, but not in defeat.
“Your mother would have been so proud.”
Ivy spun to face me. “Do you think so?” Her voice was small, child-like even, as she awaited my answer.
“Without knowing her, I’d say she’d be over the moon.” Ivy’s face lit up, and her sheepish smile grew. She exhaled in subtle pleasure. “I bet your uncle would be proud as well.” Ivy’s smile faded a touch, and her head hung.
“I just can’t seem to find the right time to tell him. Any of them. They’re so wrapped up in the tour, which is where they should be. In fact…” Her lips twitched as if she fought the return of a smile. “It’s been perfect for me, because they’ve all been too absorbed to notice I’m busy.” A tiny giggle escaped as if she’d gotten away with mischief, which she had.
“Aren’t you worried they’ll be upset that they didn’t get to be a part of this? That they didn’t get to help you?” With those questions, Ivy’s curled lips flattened.
“Actually, no. They wouldn’t be a part of anything. Gage would take over, and Tommy would direct, and I’d be lost again.”
I drew in a deep breath at her sudden outburst, understanding once again Ivy’s strong desire to do this, to do something on her own, for herself. Being five months pregnant didn’t seem the ideal time, but what did I know?
“I wish there was some way I could help you,” I offered, letting my eyes drift upward to the dust mites tumbling through the sunshine, dancing before the dirty windows.
“Really?”
My head fell forwards and I peered at my young friend. “Of course. I’d love to help if I could.”
Ivy chewed at her lip for a moment as if considering something. Her mouth popped open and then closed. Her eyes lowered before she spoke.
“Actually, I could use a manager.”
“Good idea, with the baby coming. It sounds like this will be up and running around the time you give birth. I don’t know how you’ll manage both jobs at the same time. Motherhood. Music Therapist.” Knowing that Ava started first grade in the coming fall, Ivy still had Emaline at home, refusing a full-service nanny or daycare. With another baby on the way, opening the school would be a double whammy of full-time responsibility.
