Look for the dapper dudes in mirrored sunglasses, he’d said. He probably should have mentioned the mansion-on-wheels he had them bring to the hotel. It was bigger than the hotel suites we’d been staying in.

“I thought he was sending two dudes and a bigger van,” Mick says as we walk toward the monstrosity.

I point to one of the new security guards. “If she’s a dude, I’ll eat your hat,” I say out of the corner of my mouth.

Mick tugs his hat lower over his eyes and sweeps them up and down the bodyguard’s black uniform pants, all the way up to her navy-blue polo that’s precisely tucked into her pants. “Definitely not a dude,” he whispers back.

I elbow him in the side and he bends at the waist, laughing. “You can stop staring at her now.”

He jerks his eyes from the perfect blonde with the high ponytail and the shiny mirrored glasses and looks down at me. “She’s got nothing on you.”

“Nice try,” I mutter.

“Is this big bus for us?” Anna asks, holding tightly to my hand.

“I think so,” I reply.

Alex, one of the bodyguards who has been on our security team for the past few years, walks out of the front office of the hotel. He comes to introduce us to the new person. “Wren, this is Mel. Short for Melanie, but the last time I called her that, she kicked me in the balls, so I wouldn’t advise it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Nice to meet you, Mel.”

She nods at me, a barely perceptible movement.

“She’s pretty quiet, and she hates my guts. So, this has been a fun trip so far,” Alex says to me.

“I thought Emilio was sending a bigger van,” I say.

“He was, and then he remembered that Eddie Von Brantley lives in this state, so he called him up and Mr. Von Brantley offered the use of his personal ride for the trip.”

“Eddie Von Brantley?” Mick echoes. “Like, the Eddie Von Brantley, the rock and roll star?”

“The one and only.” Alex beams as though he did all this himself.

“We’re going to be riding in Eddie Von Brantley’s bus,” Mick says with awe.

We step onto the bus. I carry Chase in his carrier, and Mick carries Roxy, while the other two trail along. “Wow,” Anna says as she stops in the entryway. The bus is all shiny wood and chrome, with marble countertops and black leather furniture.

“Should we disinfect the surfaces?” I ask. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that some crazy shit goes on inside tour busses.

“No need, this one’s new. He got it for his family.” Alex presses a button on the wall and a big screen TV slides out. “Satellite TV so the kids can be entertained. There’s another one in the back of the bus. There are game consoles and lots of games. And the bathroom is bigger than mine at home.” Alex laughs. He shrugs. “Which isn’t saying much, but still.”

Mel steps onto the bus and says, “If you’re ready to depart, we can do that at any time.”

“I’ll get the luggage and the coolers,” Mick says. He turns to walk off the bus, but she puts a hand on his shoulder.

“I already did. The luggage is under the bus. If there’s something specific you need, I can get it for you.”

“Clothes,” Mick says. “Snacks.”

“Your clothing has been placed in the drawers, and the snacks are either in the kitchen cabinet or in the refrigerator. Shall we depart?”

“I need to go and check out—”

“I already did it for you,” Mel says. She blinks her blue eyes at us.

Mick leans down close to my ear. “I wonder if she’ll offer to wipe my ass when I go to the bathroom.”

I elbow him in the side again.

“If you can secure the children, we’ll be on our way.”

We set Chase and Roxy up in their car seats, and put them in front of the TV. Then we let the two older kids look through the games until they pick one they seem to know. We load it up for them, and they each take a controller. Then we safely buckle them into their seats. And that’s the last we hear out of any of them until lunchtime, when Chase is ready to eat and Roxy is tired of being in her car seat.

I call toward the front of the bus. “If you can find a park somewhere, this would be a good time to let the children stretch their legs.”

Mel, who is driving, looks up momentarily and then nods. She turns off the interstate.

“I don’t know how you stand this life,” Mick jokes to me.

“You get used to it.”

“What was life like when you were little, before your parents died?” he asks. “It wasn’t like this, was it?”

“Definitely not. Middle-class suburbia all the way. White picket fence, station wagon. We had all our needs met, and most of our wants met.” He’s watching me intently. “What was it like for you, growing up?”

“We had a brownstone in the city. Mom came from money. Dad grew up dirt-poor. They both went to deaf school, and then they went to Gallaudet, a liberal arts college for the deaf. They got married, and had us. I followed in Dad’s footsteps and became a scientist. Ryan got the art genes from Mom.” He shrugs.

“How did I not know you’re a scientist?”

He shrugs again. “You never asked.”

He’s right. I didn’t. I never asked what he does for a living. “What kind of science?”

“Medical science. Chemical trials, mostly. I work on new drugs, trying to cure diseases.”

“Like what?”

“Like Parkinson’s. We’re getting closer on that one, but we’re not there yet. The research is amazing.”

“You’re a modern-day hero.”

“No, I’m just a guy who wants to make a difference.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Did you always want to be a famous rock star?”

“No, never. I didn’t discover music until we got adopted. Then it was how we bonded with Emilio and Marta. We never looked back.”

“All your sisters are having babies. Do you think you’ll keep touring the way you have?”

“I doubt it. I think they’re ready to settle down. We’ll probably play special events, and keep recording music, but we’re going to stay off the road. Besides, babies on a bus are not always this much fun.”

Anna leans against my leg. “Can we have a picnic when we get to the park?”

I brush her bangs back from her forehead. “I don’t see why not.”

We let the kids play for about an hour, and then we have a quick lunch, while Alex and Mel keep a watchful eye on all of us. When we start to attract too much attention, we get back on the bus, set the kids up again, and off we go. We stop two more times, letting the kids walk around and get all their silly wiggles out.

By ten o’clock that night, I’m still wide awake, but we’re pulling over so we can put the kids to bed. They’ve been buckled up all day, but we can’t buckle them up while they stretch out to sleep, so we have to stop.

Now, the kids are all asleep in their pull-out beds. Chase is in his portable crib, and Roxy is in hers. We parked in a hotel parking lot, and Mel and Alex will get a room at the hotel for the night.

“Good night,” we call to them as they walk out the door, closing it softly behind them.

“What do we do now?” I ask Mick.

Suddenly, he grabs me and pulls me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me. “I don’t think I told you thank you for doing all this. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, my face pressed against his chest. I lean back a little. “You’re squishing me.”

“Oh, sorry.” He takes the baseball cap off his head and puts it on the counter next to us. Then he takes mine off. It’s easier to fly under the radar when no one can see your face. He grabs for my ponytail holder and tugs my hair free.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Helping you take your hair down,” he says as he spreads my hair out around my shoulders. “Thought you might like to shower before bed.”

“Do I need to shower before bed?”

“You normally shower before bed,” he says slowly. “I was just helping you.” He holds his hands up like he’s surrendering to the cops. “And I like playing with your hair,” he mutters. Then he laughs. “Wring all my confessions out of me! God!”

I hitch my hip on the counter. “You like playing with my hair?”

His eyes drag from the top of my head down to my feet, taking a slow path that sets my insides aflutter. “And all the rest of you.”

I nod. “Uh-huh.” He’s not usually so brazen. “What has changed?”

“What do you mean?”

“A few days ago, you zoomed out of the shower when I came in it. And now you’re putting the moves on me.” I point my finger at him. “Admit it.”

“Oh, I admit it.” His eyes do that lazy slide down my body again. “And I fully intend to put all the moves on you.” He steps closer so he can whisper in my ear. “So, go take a fucking shower so I can kiss you wherever I want.”

We have some unfinished business between us—namely, his ex, who everyone thinks I should know about. “Are we still BFFs?” I ask. “Just checking.”

His eyes narrow. “I think so.”

“But BFFs don’t sleep together.”

“I’m pretty sure my mom and dad are BFFs. And although I really don’t like to think about them bumping uglies, I know they’ve done it at least twice, since Ryan and I exist.”

“So, BFFs do more sometimes, but when? When do you know it’s the right time?” I drum my thumb lightly on the counter.

“You doubt now is the right time?”

“Maybe,” I squeak out. I clear my throat. “Maybe,” I say with more clarity. “I don’t know.”

“Then we wait until we do know.” He shrugs. “That was easy.” He jerks a thumb toward the bathroom. “Do you want to shower first, or shall I?”

“I’ll go first,” I say. I grab a towel and some bath products. Then I step into the bathroom and close the door behind me.

It takes a minute to figure out the water, but once I do, it runs clear and fresh, and really hot. I step in and wash my hair. Suddenly, I feel a draft behind me and I start to turn around.

But Mick grabs my shoulders and holds me steady, facing away from him. His front presses against my back. “What are you doing?”

“I just wanted to tell you something,” he says, his lips leaving a spicy trail of kisses up the side of my neck.

“What did you want to tell me?” I reach out to hold on to the wall in front of me, my palms flat. He kicks my legs apart with his foot, and his knee slides between mine. “Mick?”

“I just wanted to tell you that I love you, and I want you, and I can’t imagine a day without you in my life. And I do want to fuck you, but I’ll wait until you’re ready. That’s all I wanted to say.” He spins me around, pushes me back against the wall, and his eyes drag lazily down my naked body. He takes the sprayer off the wall, and gently washes away the soap that’s still slippery on my skin. The spray of water trails across my shoulders, followed by his fingertips. Then it slides down the length of my arm.

I gasp when he drags the spray across my breasts, his knuckle brushing the turgid peaks of my nipples. He lifts my breasts, one by one, and sprays beneath them, plumping my flesh in his palm as he drags the pad of his thumb across the sensitive tip.

“Mick…”

He looks into my eyes. “Yes, Wren? Tell me what you want.”

“I need to—” I bite back the last word.

“You need to what?” he whispers, just before his head dips and he takes my nipple into his mouth. A quick suck turns into tiny nips and bites. I hold his head against my breast and he switches sides, gently pulling and tugging.

“I need to… God, Mick,” I say.

He turns the dial on the sprayer so that it’s no longer a soft stream. Now it’s a sharp pulse of water. Then he lifts one of my legs onto the tiny bench seat that’s on one side of the shower. The pulse of water hits me right where I need it, and I cry out. He covers my mouth with his, muttering, “Shh,” against my lips. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

He moves the wand around, watching my face closely. When my eyes close and my head falls back, he stops the stream right there. I grab hold of his shoulders to keep from falling over. With his lips, teeth, and tongue on my breasts, he brings me right to the edge. Then with one word, he sends me toppling over the cliff.

“Mine.”

It’s guttural and soft and warm and…true.

His arms hold me up when I’d like to do nothing more than sag down to the floor. “You okay?” he asks after a moment.

He lifts the wand from between my legs and hangs it back up on the wall. “I’m okay,” I reply. But I’m not really sure I am. I feel like my legs might give way and drop me to the floor any second.

He takes my shoulders and moves me from beneath the spray of water. “My turn,” he says. Then he grins. “To shower.” He soaps his hair and then his body, and I don’t even move. When he gets to his dick, he gives it a couple of quick strokes. How could he miss it? It’s right there, all hard and beautiful and purple.

“Do you want me to…” I point toward it. My mouth actually waters a little at the thought of tonguing the crown.

“No,” he says. He turns off the water, and then he gets out and gets us both a towel. He wraps mine around me like I’m a baby, and it’s true, I’m about as weak and useless as a newborn. “I think I like this look on you,” he says.

“What look?” I ask. He takes my hand and helps me step over the small lip of the shower.

“The ‘he just made me come like crazy and now I can’t think’ look.” He opens the door and steps out. I look to be sure the kids are still asleep, and they are, so I follow him to where our clothes are set out in neat little piles on the bed. He picks up my shirt and makes a move to help me put it on.

“I can do it,” I say, taking it from him.

“If you say so.” He steps into his boxers and nothing else. The front is tented by his still-hard length. His very impressive still-hard length.

I lift my sleep shirt over my head and step into my sleep shorts. He sits on the bed and scoots back, making room for me between his legs. “Come here. I’ll get some of the water out of your hair.”

I sit down and scoot so that I’m between his spread legs.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.” I’m not a porcelain doll that’s going to break with an orgasm. “Why do you keep asking?”

“Because now I’m wondering if that was the right thing to do. I’m not sure.”

“I didn’t turn you away.”

He pats my hair dry in small locks, squeezing with the towel. “Did you want to?”

“Not at any moment.”

He lets out a breath. “The look on your face when you came. My God. That was fucking amazing. I want to see that look every day for the rest of my life.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I want to make you happy, too.”

He kisses my cheek and tosses the damp towel to the floor. “You do. Every single day. You do.”

We lie down and he rolls me onto my side, and then he fits himself in behind me. He reaches between us and adjusts his junk so that it’s not poking me in the spine. “That’ll go away in a minute. Just ignore him.”

I chuckle. “Him?”

“Well, he’s definitely not a her.”

No, that’s for sure. He’s definitely not a her.

“Go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow. I have some things I need to tell you.”

“You promise?” I yawn.

“I swear it.”

And that’s the last thing I hear as I close my eyes.