Rockstar Untamed: A Single Dad Virgin Romance by Michelle Love (15)

Emily, I was a jerk. A big, dumb jerk and I apologize. Please don’t punish the band for my idiocy. Can we please meet again to discuss you representing them? I’ll come to you whenever and wherever you want to meet. My best, Dashiell Hamilton.

Well, Emily thought, that was kind of sweet. “Dashiell,” she said out loud and grinned. Okay. Call my office and set up a meeting, she typed, then added, Last chance …Dashiell.

She saw him as soon as she reached the restaurant. He was sitting in the window, the light flooding in highlighting his glorious pretty-boy features. She guessed he couldn’t be more than twenty-nine or thirty. His skin was smooth and his eyes unlined.

Dash Hamilton stood when he saw her and smiled—not the practiced smile of the arrogant, young wunderkind, but a genuine, slightly relieved grin. Friendly. Emily couldn’t help but return the smile. His hand closed around hers in a firm grip.

“Thank you, Emily. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me again. Please,” he pulled out her chair for her and she thanked him.

After they’d ordered, Dash’s face turned serious. “Look, I want to apologize—“

“Wait,” Emily said, her cheeks pinking, “You already have. Now it’s my turn. You caught me on a bad day. I’d just had some bad news and I took it out on you. Yes, you were a little …jerky …but I could have handled it better. So, I’m sorry.”

She realized she was waiting for his reply. How he reacted now would tell her what he needed to know. If he gloated …the meeting was over and The 9th & Pine would have to find another manager.

Dash briefly touch the back of her hand with a cool fingertip. “You don’t need to apologize. We’ve all had those days. Is everything okay? Can I help with something?”

Emily started to smile. Was this an act? Was he playing with her? Because that reply was just about the most perfect one she could think of. “No, thank you. It’s okay. Family stuff.”

Dash nodded sympathetically. His cornflower blue eyes held hers steadily and Emily began to feel something inside her quiver. Damn, those eyes …

“I get it,” he said, unaware of the turmoil inside of her, “Family is difficult. Painful.”

“Who have you got?”

He looked surprised at her curiosity. “I’m going to sound like Oliver Twist here but …”

Emily flushed again. “God, I’m sorry.”

Dash chuckled. “It’s okay. My parents died when I was fifteen, within weeks of each other. My brother, Sam, died from cancer a few years back. He was about ten years older than me. He was best friends with Tom and Roman and he was supposed to be the “fourth” in Quartet, but he died before they could start the company. At his funeral, Tom told me that he, Roman, and Otis wanted me to be their fourth. I’ll never forget it.”

Emily was touched by the open way he told her his story and his complete lack of guile. And it explained a whole lot about the man in front of her—he wanted to prove himself to his brother’s friends. He wanted to repay their faith in him. All this made Dash Hamilton seem less like the billionaire playboy the press painted him as and more like a lost little boy.

Of course, she thought, he could be playing me. But just as she believed Henry when he said he had no homework, she believed Dash Hamilton. And it didn’t hurt that her eyes kept being drawn to his mouth with its very smooth-lipped smile.

“So,” Dash said, “Can I please ask you to reconsider helping me promote the band? I hate to play the passive-aggressive emotional blackmail card, but Bay really wants you. In fact, she offered to come out with me to beg, but I said this was on me. We’d really like to work with you, Emily. Please. It would be our honor.”

And this time, she could think of no good reason to say no.

 

Bay gathered her into a tight hug when they met the next week for the first time since she’d agreed to manage them.

“Thank you,” she said. “I mean it. I’m so grateful.” Emily knew then that she had made the right decision. She spent the weekend rearranging her schedules and appointments to make sure she had the time to do this and had spent many evenings buried in paperwork. Henry had been a little star, helping her keep things organized, washing dishes, and even running the vacuum cleaner around their apartment for her. He was excited about her representing the band. He had loved Rocky’s single with Bay and had played it ad-nauseum on the mp3 player she’d bought him last Christmas.

Bay introduced her to the band—Kym, the blonde guitarist, and Pete Espinoza, the drummer who was as wide as he was tall and as easy-going as a person could be. They’d met in a local diner, and as they chatted, Emily had studied each of them. Bay was almost the same as she remembered from when she worked with Rock—fun, smart, and hugely talented. The only difference now was there was a wary, hunted look in her eyes. Emily had no idea where that came from, but if Bay was going to be ready for the flood of publicity that was coming the band’s way, she would need to find out. Pete, she liked immensely and quickly realized that, if Bay was the driving force of the band, Pete was the rock and the steady, protecting papa-bear.

Kym—Emily had a harder time working out the blond guitarist. She knew Kym was the offspring of two rock demi-gods—Charlie and Mac Clayton—but she had been surprised to learn that Kym had very little to do with her parents, hadn’t traded on their name, and hadn’t been into drugs or acting out when she was a kid. She seemed brittle, almost like a ghost in their lives. Now, around her two best friends, Emily could see how Kym could blossom into a confident woman and a rock star of equal acclaim as her parents.

“Hey, all. Sorry I’m late.” Dash, dressed casually but expensively in jeans and tee, slid into the booth next to Emily. Emily felt her cheeks burn. Over the last week, she’d been thinking about Dash Hamilton way too much. They’d talked a couple of times on the phone, once, late at night when she’d needed to ask him something. That phone call had lasted an hour. Now, he grinned at her as if they were old friends.

“So, you getting to know this band of pirates?”

“No. No.”

Bay, Kym, and Pete exchanged glances as their manager and their PR guy bickered over their album launch. Three weeks and neither had agreed on anything. It had been pretty funny to watch at first, but now they were getting dangerously close to the album launch and they didn’t have a plan.

Dash, his hair sticking up all in all directions, was gesturing with his hands. “I know how this business works,” he groaned. “You”re not going to sell them on just their talent. We know they’re incredible, but we need a hook to get people interested and get the music press talking about them.”

“I agree, but not placing their music for free on a damn reality show! Do I really need to see Spencer and Heidi making out to a great song like ‘Fire For You?’ No.” Emily’s hair was only marginally less messy than Dash’s. He bugged at her.

“Spencer and Heidi? When was the last time you watched a reality show?”

“Exactly. Exactly my point.”

“Okay, Grandma, but the young—“

“I want them to appeal to every age group, not just kids who think Kanye is some sort of messiah.”

Bay leaned over to her band mates. “Do you think they know we’re here?” The stage-whisper made Emily and Dash stop arguing. From their expressions, both of them had clearly forgotten the band was in the room. Dash cleared his throat and Emily sighed.

“Guys,” she sounded exhausted. “What do you think?”

For a second, none of them spoke. “Look, I see where Dash is coming from—it’s the old any publicity is good publicity idea, but I’m more inclined to agree with Emily. We don’t want to give the impression that we can be bought. We need to retain our integrity, even if it takes longer to get traction.” Kym looked for confirmation at her band mates.

“Yep,” Pete nodded, “None of us want to be popstars. We’re musicians and I think that, if we start treating musicians as artists, if Quartet tries something different with its marketing, it’ll get noticed.”

Dash looked at Bay. “You too?”

Bay nodded. “One hundred percent. We’re not bubble gum—we’re serious musicians. We want a career where people are still buying our albums in twenty years, even if they don’t buy the singles.”

Pete was grinning. “What Bay is saying is she wants to be in Pearl Jam.”

Bay chuckled and mock-scowled at him. “If you’re not careful, I’ll replace you with Ed the Ved.”

“He’s not a drummer.”

“He played the drums in his ex-wife’s band.”

“That restraining order he had on you is still current, right?”

Dash broke up the laughter. “Look, all right. But, Ems, throw me a bone. At least let me book them on The Late Show or Saturday Night Live.”

Emily sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “I’ll think about it. Now, I have to go back to San Francisco tonight. Can I trust you all not to listen to Dash about anything until we’ve agreed on it?”

Dash sighed, but smiled. “Fine. Look, I have to go out to Tacoma. I’ll take you to the airport.”

 

After they’d left, Bay grinned at her friends. “It’s happening.”

“I know. Scary.” Kym sat back in her chair and leaned against Pete’s big frame.

“If we can get those two to agree on something,” Pete added, throwing an arm around Kym. Bay nodded and was quiet for a time, then, grinning, she raised her eyebrows knowingly.

“They might not agree, but they’re totally going to hook up, right?”

“Totally.”

“I know, right?”

“Who wants to bet on how soon?”

Pete stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, waving them in the air. “I’ll take that bet.”

 

Emily relaxed back into the seat of Dash’s Mercedes. The car glided smoothly along the highway out to the airport, the air conditioning cold, but welcome. She felt the breeze flow through her thin shirt, making her nipples pucker and harden.

Yes, it’s definitely the air-con, she told herself, and not the temptation of Dash’s long, lean thigh next to hers, his elegant or well-manicured fingers on the steering wheel. She imagined them trailing up the inside of her thigh, stroking her through her panties, slipping inside of her …Jeez, she sat up suddenly. What the hell, girl? You have a gorgeous, sexy boyfriend and Dash Hamilton, however cute, is a complete man-whore.

She stared out of the window of the car, defiantly looking away from his hands, his long, long legs, and his staggeringly handsome profile.

“You okay?”

“Yes, sure. Thanks for the ride.” Even that sounded dirty.

“It’s not a problem.”

“What are you doing in Tacoma this late?”

“Huh?”

She smiled at him. “You said you were going to Tacoma.”

Dash blinked. “Oh, right. Yeah, just some drinks with the guys. What are you going home to?”

“Kid,” she said, suddenly wanting to shock him. It worked. He looked surprised and she took pity. “My nephew lives with me while my sister is on tour.”

Dash looked blank. “Your sister …”

“…is Paige Moore.” She finished for him. He looked at her.

“I never made the connection.”

“Are you sure you work for one of the biggest record companies in the world?” She was laughing at him now and he took it graciously.

“Touché. But that’s so cool. So you look after her kid when she’s on tour?”

“Henry. And it’s more like …he lives with me and she visits. Occasionally,” she added, before she could stop the bitterness in her voice. Dash nodded.

“Got it. How old is Henry?”

“Eight, and he’s just the most wonderful kid. A dream, really, by any parent’s standards. He’s my mini-me.”

Dash smiled at her. “That’s the most animated I’ve ever seen you. You love him.”

She nodded. “I do. It’s weird, because I never wanted kids, but when I imagine my life now, being without—“ She broke off, horrified to find herself choking up. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She felt his hand, so warm and dry, covering hers.

“Hey …”

She brushed away a tear that escaped. “Sorry. Just tired.”

“Tired and emotional. Isn’t that what we say when one of our acts is heading to rehab?” His grin told her he was kidding and she smiled, grateful for his effort to break the tension.

“Excuse me, Mr. Hamilton, none of my acts have ever needed to go to rehab.”

“There’s always time. I saw Pete have two beers earlier.”

“Scandalous.”

Regretfully, she saw they were at the airport, and as Dash pulled up to the drop-off point, she turned to thank him again.

“I told you—no problem.” His smile was gentle and his eyes locked onto hers. A thrill ran through her and a pulse beat between her legs.

“Dash?”

“Yes?”

“You don’t have plans in Tacoma tonight, do you?”

His smile split his face. “Not one.” His humour was so infectious, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, I appreciate it. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” She got out of the car, but leaned back in when he called her name.

“Say hi to Henry for me.”

She smiled. “I will. Thanks again.”

At the terminal door, she turned to see him still at the curb, watching her. She waved as he did, then watched as he drove away. Her feelings in turmoil, she walked into the airport and went to catch her flight.

 

Two and a half hours later, she let herself into her apartment to be met by a very worried-looking Maura.

“She knocked …and I couldn’t think how to refuse her. I’m sorry. I let her in.”

Emily looked past her into the living room and her heart sank. Henry sat beside his mother, awkward and uncomfortable, as she hugged him with one hand. As Emily walked into the room, Paige looked up and flashed one of her perfect Hollywood smiles.

“Hey, little sis, surprised to see me?”

 

Dash drove back into the city, still smiling. Emily Moore was unlike the women he usually had to deal with, both in business and in private. Well, he admitted, how he treated her was different. No posturing and no alpha-male behavior. He found he didn’t want to be anything but be his true self with her. Despite their different views on how to market The 9th & Pine, he found her so comfortable to be with—so easy and natural.

And, God, she was beautiful. Her smile—when she smiled—was infectious and she looked five years younger than her twenty-four. Dash found himself wanting to have grown up with her as the girl next door. He was sure they would have been best friends. Despite her consummate professionalism, he saw that underneath was a woman who hadn’t had nearly the fun she should have had.

Tonight, in the car, it had taken all his self-control to keep from pulling the car over and taking her in his arms. With any other woman, he would have done it. But he had gained far more than a kiss when, because he’d restrained his normal bluff, she’d opened up to him.

 

At home in his penthouse, he looked out over the city. To be here at his young age was still miraculous to him. After Sam had died and Roman and Tom had come to him, he’d been amazed at how much faith they had put in him. He had been working at a Manhattan PR firm under the tutelage of one of the most feared and respected PR mavens in the fashion business and had already made quite a name for himself due to his outgoing personality and his eye for future trends.

Yes, that time was responsible for making his name, but it was when he joined Quartet that his career took off into the stratosphere.

Tom had laid out his vision for the company, saying that he wanted it to be progressive and embrace the changes in the music business in a way that their rivals still tried to avoid.

“Those kids who are illegally downloading the music still go to the gigs and still spend hard-earned money on the bands’ merchandize. If we championed singers who can actually sing and bands who can actually play, instead of spending millions on plasticizing a generation of girls who should still be playing with their Malibu Barbie’s instead of wearing false lashes and singing about giving head … well, you get the picture.”

Dash did get it and he’d steered Quartet’s artists on paths that snaked between traditional marketing and original, genre specific plans.

So why had he fought Emily so hard when she insisted on marketing The 9th & Pine for their talents alone? When they had such rich qualities to exploit—Bay’s beauty, Kym’s famous parents, and Pete’s immense size and presence? He had no clue, except that he loved arguing with her, seeing those dark hazel eyes flash with annoyance, and watching the pink flush in her cheeks deepen to that delicious scarlet. He wanted to keep that connection between them, the back and forth. He needed it because if they had fallen silent for even a second, he would have grabbed her and kissed her so hard her head would have spun.

God, he wanted her. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, but for all his reputation for being an “eager puppy” something told him that this time he needed to be patient. Play the long game.

He drained his beer and headed to bed. Soon, he thought, if I play this right, I won’t be alone.

Emily Moore was worth waiting for.

 

Emily closed Henry’s bedroom door, then went to face her sister. She hadn’t wanted a confrontation in front of the child so, after Maura left, she’d ordered pizza and they’d eaten as Paige held court, telling them stories from the road. Henry kept looking between the two of them and Emily could see the conflict in his eyes. Some of Paige’s stories were made to impress him and Emily could see they did have an effect, but then he would look at Emily apologetically, as if by being interested in what his mother was telling him he was somehow betraying Emily. It broke her heart.

Now she busied herself, clearing up as Paige watched her. “You know, you could sit down and talk to me.”

Emily’s fists flexed. “What is it you want me to say, Paige? You come back, Henry goes to live with you, and then you decide you need to express yourself again? Same old story.”

Paige sighed. “Not this time, Ems. I’m tired, I’m sore, and I want my family back. Not just Henry, but you too. You used to idolize me. Now it’s as if you can’t stand to be in the same room.”

Emily laughed hollowly. “So you need your ego stroked. Is that it? Didn’t you get enough of that from your adoring fans?”

Paige rocked back from the anger in her sister’s voice. “If that’s how you see me …”

“I don’t know how I see you, Paige, I don’t know who you are anymore. The sister I knew would never have abandoned her child.”

Emily felt sorry as soon as the words came out, betraying the resentment she’d been holding back for four years. Paige’s eyes filled with tears and she looked away from her sister, reaching to grab her glass of wine. Emily wanted to apologize, but stopped herself. It was better they sorted this out once and for all. She did sit down opposite her, though, grabbing her own wine glass and curling her legs up under herself. She wished Maura was still here, or even Dash …wait, what? She checked herself. Why would Dash Hamilton being here be of any help? She didn’t know, she just …

“I do love him, you know,” Paige interrupted her thoughts. “I wouldn’t change my decision to have him. It was just …I wasn’t ready to give up my life and my career. It all happened so quickly.”

Emily stayed silent, digging her fingernails into her palms to stop from snapping at her sister. She just studied her—the dyed jet black hair and the thick eyeliner that would look ridiculous on Emily but seemed to work on Paige. The kohl-rimmed eyes were weary, though, Emily realized, and her sister’s whole demeanor was riddled with exhaustion.

“What is it you think is going to happen now?” she asked, keeping her tone even. Paige drained her wine glass.

“I’m having my people look for houses here—gated communities. Safe places for Henry to live and play. Somewhere he can invite his friends over or somewhere for him to play sports.”

Emily smothered a grin. “You really have no idea what Henry likes, do you?”

Paige’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Perhaps because neither of you tell me! When I call, all I get is that Henry is doing well in school and that he’s healthy.”

“Perhaps if you asked about him rather than telling us about how your life is so wonderful,” Emily snapped back. Paige sighed.

“We’re not getting anywhere here.”

“No. You can’t just swan back into Henry’s life and turn it upside down. I won’t permit it.”

“You won’t permit it? I’m his mother.”

“And a piss-poor job you did of it.” Emily’s temper finally burst through. “In case you forgot, I am his legal guardian and there is no way I’m letting you rip him from the life we’ve built. He is happy.”

“With the babysitter? How often are you home late, Ems? How often do you go to Seattle and leave him in the care of your assistant?”

Emily stood up. “You need to go now, Paige, before we say things we can’t take back.”

Paige got up, grabbing her leather jacket and heading for the front door. Before she left, she turned and met her sister’s gaze, her expression hard.

“I want my son back, Emily, and I will do anything to make that happen.”

Emily met her gaze defiantly. “I will fight you every step of the way, Paige.”

Her sister slammed the door and Emily cursed, knowing the sound would have woken Henry. When she went to check on him, however, it was obvious he hadn’t been asleep at all and that he had heard every word. His little face was pinched and white, his body curled up in a tight ball.

“Come here, you little fraggle,” Emily said gently and he crawled into her arms. “I’m sorry if we upset you. Sisters fighting.”

“What did Mommy want?” He looked at her and she could see he already knew. He just wanted confirmation.

“She wants you to live with her again. But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I want you to know that you can live here with me forever if you want.”

Henry didn’t say anything, but she felt his body shaking, and to her horror, tears started to dribble down his face.

“Hey, hey, hey …” She rocked him gently “There’s nothing for you to worry about, Henry, I promise. Whatever she and I fight about isn’t your fault.”

“I hate her,” Henry mumbled, his face buried in her shoulder, and she felt her heart crack.

“Don’t say that, pumpkin. You don’t mean it. Whatever she and I fight about, we both really, really love you, you know?”

It took another hour before she could get the exhausted child to fall asleep and by that time, she could barely keep her own eyes open. She changed into her bedtime shorts and t-shirt and fell onto her bed. For a moment she just lay there. The Californian evening still warm, but a soothing breeze floated into the room and closed her eyes.

Then her cell phone bleeped and she groaned. Not now. Not tonight. But when she looked at the message, a smile crept across her face and her whole body relaxed.

Hope you got home okay, Ems. Can’t wait for Friday when we can resume our battle. Sleep tight, warrior. D.

 

Kym Clayton moved the last of her boxes out to her car and then took one last look around the small apartment she had shared with Stuart Lawson. Shed still been in the hospital recovering from the beating he’d dealt to her when he’d vanished from Seattle. Something had happened between him and Bay, but Bay wouldn’t tell her what—just that Stu was gone and wasn’t ever coming back.

But she’d seen the cuts and bruises on Bay’s face and body and fear had gripped her. What had her friend done to protect her? She tried to get the truth from Tom, but his love and loyalty for Bay prevented him from saying too much. “It was bad, but it’s over,” was all she had gotten out of him.

Now, Quartet had advanced her enough to move somewhere else—somewhere far away from the memory—and she was glad, feeling a weight lift from her. She felt optimistic in a way she hadn’t for a long time. Since her hospitalization, her relationship with her parents had improved too, although her dad’s mutterings of “I told you about that sonofabitch” didn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey.”

Kym started as Bay appeared behind her. She grinned at her friend.

“Thought you could do with some help.”

Kym laughed, rolling her eyes. “And just as I’d finished packing. Exquisite timing.”

Bay grinned. “Hey, look, you still have to move in. I can help out there.”

Kym locked the door to the apartment and posted the keys through the letter box. Bay watched her. “Gonna miss the place?”

“Not even one little bit. Come on, let’s go see my new palace.”

Her new apartment overlooked Elliott Bay and was twice the size of her old one. Bay whistled. “Very, very nice.”

“Says the woman living in a gazillion dollar houseboat on Lake Washington.”

Bay conceded the point, but added, “It’s not mine, though.”

“I think Tom would say differently. That man would walk over razorblades for you.”

“Which is why I’m careful not to take advantage. The sisterhood would kill me.”

Kym winced. “Dude, let the man spoil you. You deserve it.”

Bay grinned. “He does—I get to climb all over that beautiful body of his. That’s all I want. Everything else is just stuff.”

Kym laughed and hugged her friend. “I’m so happy for you. I really am. You two are perfect together.”

They flopped down onto the plastic-covered couch and surveyed the boxes they had just lugged from the car. “Yeoch,” Kym said and Bay laughed.

“So, what about you, Kymmy? Anyone on your radar?”

Kym shook her head. “God, no. I just want to be alone for a long, long time. Chill out, make music with my besties, earn some decent money, and not worry about men.”

Bay high-fived her. “I’ll buy you a Rabbit,” she promised, straight-faced, and Kym laughed.

“Girl, what makes you think I haven’t already got a drawer full of vibrators?”

Bay considered. “I’ll buy you a new Rabbit.”

“That’s better. But not the neon one.”

“God, is that a thing? Why?”

They both giggled, and then Kym sighed, looking at her friend. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened to make Stu disappear?”

Bay’s expression became closed. “You don’t need to know, Kym. Trust me. He’s gone.”

Kym hesitated, and then asked the question she’d been dying to ask. “Did he hurt you?”

Bay half-smiled and took Kym’s hand. “Not as much as he hurt you. Seriously, Kym, it’s over. You have nothing to worry about.”

She leaned over and kissed her friend’s cheek. “Come on, doofus. Let’s get this place looking like a home.”

 

Emily felt ridiculously school-girly and shy when she knew she was going to see Dash again the following Friday. They had texted back and forth constantly over the previous forty-eight hours—ideas for the band, joking, and flirting—and as she showered on Friday morning, she couldn’t help closing her eyes and imagining that her hands running all over her soapy, wet body were his hands, sweeping over her curves, teasing her nipples, and slipping between her legs.

Emily gave a small moan at the thought of it, then started guiltily as a knock at the door brought her out of her daydream.

“Auntie Em?”

Emily cranked the water off and got out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself. She opened the door to see Henry, still in his pj’s, looking very forlorn. His cheeks were flaming.

“What’s up, sport?”

“Don’t feel well.”

Emily slid a hand onto his forehead. “Jeez, kid, you’re burning up. Come on. Back to bed.”

She took his temperature and winced. One hundred and one. “Where does it hurt, Henry?”

“Tummy and head.”

Damn. She tucked him back into bed and fetched him some aspirin. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll call the principal. Just rest.”

She called the school, then hurriedly got herself dressed. As she tugged her shirt on, she called Dash.

“Aww, jeez, poor kid,” Dash said when she explained the situation, “Of course, you must stay there, but I have a suggestion. Why don’t I come to you? We can work between nursing duties and if you need medicine or anything, I can be your errand boy.”

Emily smiled. Here was a billionaire businessman offering to fetch and carry for her. So weird. So …Dash. “Don’t you have better things to do? Like conquer the world or satisfy your harem?”

His laugh was deep and warm. “No way. I want to be your slave boy. Also, I kind of want to hang out with Henry and see if he can tell me your secrets.”

“Seriously—“

“Seriously. I can be on a plane and with you in a couple of hours. What do you say?”

She meant to turn him down, she really did. Instead, incredulous, she heard herself agreeing.

“Good,” he said in a voice that made her stomach warm and her sex pulse with desire. “See you soon, beautiful.”

 

Two hours later she opened the front door to find him waiting with a huge grin on his face, dressed in a Thor shirt and jeans, and his arms full of brown paper sacks.

“I come bearing gifts. Twizzlers, aspirin, books for Henry, contracts, soda, and, um, more Twizzlers because I like them. Also Nerds because you’re a nerd.”

Emily laughed, utterly charmed, and waved him in. “You shall pass,” she intoned, trying her best Gandalf impersonation.

Dash looked at her askance. “Nerd. Told ya.”

“You’re wearing a Thor t-shirt.” Emily narrowed her eyes at him, but a smile was playing around her mouth.

“Fair point.” He dumped the bags on the kitchen table. “How’s the little fella?”

“Asleep. He’s in a lot of pain, though. If he doesn’t feel better when he wakes, I’ll call a doctor.” Emily absentmindedly pulled a package of Twizzlers out of one of the bags and opened it, biting into one of the long, red candies. She chewed twice then pulled a face. Dash grinned.

“Keep chewing. Don’t waste the gold.”

She grinned. “Anyway, Henry’s asleep so we have some time to see what mess you’ve made for my band in the last twenty-four hours.”

“Funny girl. Grab your stuff. We’re working.”

 

Tom took Bay’s hand as they left the restaurant—a low-key and quiet seafood place Downtown—and they walked back to his car. The Seattle evening was still warm and there were quite a few people milling around the streets, greeting friends, laughing, or just making their way across the city.

Tomas smiled down at his love. “Happy, baby?”

“You know it.” She reached up and kissed him. “Be even happier in about, oh, ten minutes, when you’ll be naked.”

Tom laughed. “Oh, I will, will I? I’m fine with that as long as you are too …” They had reached the parking garage now and Tom pushed the elevator call button. Bay wrapped her arms around him, her lips seeking his as they waited.

“Oh, I’ll be naked,” she murmured against his mouth. “…and wet …and ready …”

Tom gave a low groan and buried his face in her neck. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, beautiful …”

It happened in a blink of an eye—the first flash and the first yell of, “What’s it like fucking the boss, Bay?” as the paparazzi surrounded them, pushing, shoving, and screaming at them.

Panicked, Bay cried out in distress as Tom, cursing, wrenched the doors of the elevator open and shoved her inside.

“Fuck off!” He gestured at the press, incensed. The doors shut, blocking out the savage intrusion. Tom pressed the sixth-floor button—three floors above where their car was parked. Tom whirled around and took a trembling Bay into his arms. “You okay?”

She nodded, clinging to him. “Yes …Jesus. Who the hell knew we were here?”

Tom let out a long breath. “Someone at the restaurant could have tipped them off.”

“Why wouldn’t they approach us there then?”

Tom held out his hands. “I don’t know. Wait.” As they got to the fifth floor, he pressed the button for three. “Hopefully they’ll have been fooled by that.”

When they got out tentatively on the third floor of the parking lot. They were alone. Within seconds, Tom was speeding out onto the street.

Bay sat back and sighed with relief. “That was a rush, and not a good one.”

He looked over at her sympathetically. “I hate to tell you this, but that is the kind of thing you can expect when you and the band are taking over the world.”

“I know but still—yeuch.”

Tom laughed, but took her hand. “Should I hire some security for the house?”

Bay looked alarmed. “God, no. I don’t want to live in a fortress. It’s just paps. They’ll get bored when they realize that all we do in the evenings is crochet and give each other foot rubs.”

Tom snorted. “Is that code for nailing each other to the floor?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then, word, sister.”

Bay laughed softly. “God, I love you, Tomas Meir. Who knew billionaires could be so goofy?”

He made a grotesque face at her, making her shriek with laughter.

“Even with that face, I’d still do you,” she said and giggled as he tickled her. A few minutes later, they were back home and inside, pulling each other’s clothes off as they kissed their way to the bedroom.

 

Emily looked at the clock. Just after eight p.m. She and Dash had been working, talking, and laughing in between checking on Henry. The boy seemed the same, still hot to the touch, and now Emily was considering calling the doctor. She got up from the kitchen table.

“I’ll just take Henry’s temp again and if it’s still up, I’d better—“

“Look who’s up,” Dash interrupted and she turned to see her nephew, rumpled and flushed, standing in the doorway and looking with uncertain eyes at her guest. Dash grinned at him.

“Hey, sport. I’m Dash. I’m your Auntie’s friend. How’re you feeling?”

Henry looked at Emily and she nodded encouragingly.

“I’m thirsty,” he mumbled, but gave Dash a little smile. Emily grabbed some juice from the fridge, then sat Henry on her lap as he drank it. She felt his forehead again and grimaced.

“You’re still hot, little buddy. Your belly still hurt?”

Henry nodded, but his eyes were riveted on Dash’s t-shirt. Dash pulled it out so he could see the artwork properly. “You like Thor?”

Henry nodded and mumbled something shyly to Emily, who smiled. “He says he does, but the Hulk is his favorite.”

Dash leaned forward. “When I first met your Auntie, I got her so mad that I thought she was going to hulk out on me.”

Henry laughed and Emily grinned. “Don’t believe a word he says, Henry.”

Henry stayed on Emily’s lap until he fell asleep again, listening to the adults talking softly. Emily carried him back to bed and settled him while Dash cleared up their paperwork and washed their cups.

She smiled gratefully at him. “Should I order take out. Are you hungry?”

“Good thinking.”

They ordered Chinese food and ate it on their laps, chatting easily. They’d worked out a schedule of marketing The 9th & Pine that pleased them both. Emily was surprised at how much Dash was prepared to compromise, and when he couldn’t, he didn’t bully or harangue, but make his case in such a way that she could see his position clearly.

And, god, he was such a goofball, ribbing her gently and making fun of himself. He told her about Sam; she told him about her family and Paige, but mostly about Henry.

Before she knew it, it was past eleven p.m. Dash glanced at his watch. “I’d better stop monopolizing you,” he said regretfully.

“Are you going back to Seattle tonight?” She was a little bemused and more than a little sad that their evening was over.

Dash shook his head. “I’ll grab a hotel room.” He got up to go.

“Wait …if you don’t mind the couch, you’re welcome to stay.” What? What was coming out of her mouth? Emily didn’t know and in that second, she didn’t care. She just didn’t want him to leave. Dash looked pleased.

“Really? In that case, I’d be glad to.”

She nodded and couldn’t stop the smile on her face from spreading wide. “Good …I’ll get you a blanket.”

When she came back with the blanket, he had stripped down to his t-shirt and shorts. Trying not to look at his –legs—or his underwear—she gave him a spare toothbrush. “You know where the bathroom is. Help yourself to anything you need.”

He took the items she was offering. His fingers brushed hers and their eyes locked for a second. Emily looked away first. “Goodnight, then.”

In bed, her body felt shivery with tension and longing. The thought of him being a room away, half dressed, sleepy, his dark eyelashes on his cheeks as he slept …god. She allowed herself a fantasy of going out there, dropping her robe, and climbing on top of his naked body, neither of them speaking or making a noise as they fucked—just dissolving into each other, skin-on-skin, lip to lip.

Emily turned over and sighed. Stop it, she told herself firmly. You have Henry to consider. And Isaiah. God, Isaiah. She needed to reach out to him and tell him it was over, whatever it was between them. She couldn’t feel this way about someone else and string a good man like Isaiah along—it just wasn’t fair.

She finally fell asleep at just after midnight, but woke a couple of hours later, thirsty. Chinese food always did that to her. She got up, wrapping her robe around her, and padded to the kitchen. As she moved through the living room, Dash turned over on the couch and she saw he was awake.

“Hi,” she whispered. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“No.” He smiled and she felt her sex pulse with desire.

“Um, I’m just getting some water.”

She went into the kitchen, her heart thudding against her chest. She grabbed a glass, filled it, and downed it, wanting to cool the fire that raged inside her. She felt him behind her, then his hand slid around her waist, gently turning her around to face him. She gazed up at him in the gloom of the night thought she’d never seen anything quite as beautiful. Dash smiled, soft and tender, and tilted her chin up. His lips met hers and she was lost. Her entire body trembled as they kissed. She felt the sensation of his mouth on hers in every nerve ending. He parted her robe and cupped her breast, then his mouth was on her nipple, sucking and tasting.

Emily moaned softly, pressing her body against him and feeling the hot length of his cock, ramrod hard against her. Her hands slid inside his underwear to stroke him.

“Emily …” He moaned and picked her up, sitting her on the counter-top, pulling her robe from her shoulders, and kissing from her throat down to her belly, then pushing her legs apart. When his tongue found her clit, Emily gasped, clutching the edge of the counter and feeling like she was losing her mind.

Dash swept her into his arms and carried her to her bedroom, covering her body with his and peeling his t-shirt over his head as she pushed his shorts down, freeing his incredible cock.

“I want to be inside you,” he murmured, and she nodded, breathless, reaching out and fumbling in her nightstand drawer for a condom. Dash grinned and took it from her, sitting on his haunches as he slid the rubber over his cock. Then he was kissing her, entering her, and filling her. Emily almost screamed with delight as he thrust deep inside her, ramming his hips against hers, and kissing her deeply as they moved together.

“Dash …” She moaned as he sank into her to the root, her body arching up to his, wanting his skin on hers.

In a second everything changed. A heartrending, bloodthirsty scream of absolute pain stopped them—a cry of anguish from the next room.

“Henry,” Emily said breathlessly and they disconnected in a hurry. Emily grabbed her robe and skittered out of the room, Dash behind her, pulling his shorts on.

Henry was writhing on the bed, crying, heaving, and wracking with desiccating sobs of pain. Emily gathered him up, but Henry kicked and fought against her, he was so delirious.

“Henry, sweetheart. Henry!”

“I’m calling 911,” Dash said, his eye wide with alarm. Emily calmed Henry down and took his temperature. She moaned when she saw it.

“One hundred four …god …”

“Fuck the ambulance,” Dash said and pushed her aside to pull Henry into his arms. “Go grab some clothes. I’ll drive you myself.”

In the car, Emily tried in vain to soothe Henry, talking to him and wiping his burning forehead with a towel. Dash sped through the city toward the nearest E.R.

As they carried Henry into the emergency room, a doctor came to greet them, and in a flash, Henry was on a gurney having his vitals taken. Emily didn’t realize she was shaking violently until Dash clamped his arms around her and whispered urgently into her ear. “Sweetheart, breathe. Breathe. They’re going to look after him. He’s going to be okay.”

Emily leaned against him, grateful, but too terrified for Henry to feel anything but fear. The doctor came out to see them. He was a young Indian doctor with a British accent and a kind face.

“It looks like appendicitis, which is scary to witness and bloody agony for the patient, but very routine for us. We’re taking him into surgery now …” He looked at their disheveled state and grinned slightly. “We have a private room that you two could, um, wait in if you like.”

Dash kept his arm around her as they waited, but there was nothing but friendship in the gesture. He seemed as worried about Henry as she did. Emily closed her eyes and leaned against him, feeling his lips against her temple.

“He’ll be okay, right?”

The arm around her tightened. “You bet your ass he will be. He’ll have the very best care there is. Don’t worry about that.”

Emily felt the tears come, then, from the kindness in his voice and her sheer exhaustion. He held her as she wept, her tears soaking his t-shirt. Eventually, her sobs turned to hiccups and she wiped her face on her sleeve. She gave him a watery smile.

“She wants him back. Paige—Henry’s Mom. She wants him back.”

Understanding registered in his eyes. “Oh, Em …I’m so sorry.”

Suddenly she wanted to tell him everything. As she explained the situation, she could see the anger and disgust in his eyes.

“Jeez,” he said when she was finished. “What a piece of work. Sorry,” he added apologetically. She shrugged.

“No offense taken. She is a piece of work.”

“What does Henry think?”

“He won’t admit it, but I think he’s curious about her, about the woman he remembers as his Mom but who he doesn’t know.” Emily sighed. “But he’s terrified she’ll make him live with her—that he’ll have to leave his school, his friends, and me. He’s at such a delicate age, Dash. I’m scared that any big change will scar him. Oh shit …” She gasped. “I should call Paige …I never thought …”

“Why don’t you let me handle that?”

She touched his face and smiled. “You are the sweetest man, but no, thank you. I have to do it.”

 

Dash left the room to give Emily privacy while she called her sister. He went to the water fountain and splashed some on his face, wondering how Henry was. Poor kid. He’d had appendicitis when he was eleven and knew the searing agony of it.

Dash walked to an open window and looked out at the dawn breaking over the city. The last twenty-four hours—damn. His life had changed. It was that simple. It wasn’t just that he and Emily had finally had sex—glorious even if it had been interrupted—but that she’d let him into her world and her little family. She had trusted him. It was a new feeling for Dash Hamilton.

Dash Hamilton gave the impression he was a confident, almost arrogant man, but the truth was …he was lonely. With his adored older brother Sam being gone, he had looked to Tom, Otis, and Roman for friendship. Most of his own college friends had married or moved away from Manhattan. Roman, the oldest of the friends, was a solitary figure, quiet and reserved; Otis could be a little too snobby sometimes. It was Tom who Dash had bonded with most of all. Since Tom had fallen in love with Bay, however, he hadn’t been around as much. But Dash couldn’t blame anyone but himself for his isolation. He never got too involved with women, fearing the attachment and the loss of losing someone he loved again. But Emily Moore had gotten under his skin from the first day in her office and now …

“Dash?”

He turned to see her smiling at him. Her eyes were tired and sad, but she looked beautiful in the glow of the early morning light. He went to her, took her in his arms, and brushed his lips against hers.

“Is your sister on her way?”

Emily nodded, her head against his chest. “She’ll be here in an hour. Look, Henry’s going to be in surgery for a while. Should we go to the cafeteria and get some coffee—I mean, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” She looked at him with uncertainty.

“Hush your mouth.” He smiled. “Lead me to your feasting hall.”

After both of their cellphones had consistently buzzed from very early that morning, Tom had grabbed them and shoved them under the bed. He was too preoccupied fucking his beautiful girlfriend to answer any damn phone, he had told Bay, who smiled down at him as she straddled him. Tom slid his hands around her waist as she rode him, his cock ramrod hard inside her velvety sex. Her skin had a light covering of dewy sweat as they made love and he traced a pattern across her belly with his fingers, watching her beautiful breasts tremble with her movements.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he said and was rewarded by her thighs tightening around his hips and her vaginal muscles gripping his cock. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders, her face flushed a lovely pink. He urged her to thrust harder, and as she began to moan softly, he could feel the explosion building inside of him. His thumbs stroked a rhythmic pattern over her ruby red nipples, feeling them harden beneath his touch. Bay threw her head back as she came, Tom’s hips jerking as he came with hot spurts inside her. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, keeping her locked onto him as his seed pumped deep into her.

Finally, she rolled from him and collapsed beside him, catching her breath and kissing him softly.

“Oh, if we could just do that all day …”

Tom laughed, biting gently down on her slender shoulder. “I’m getting old. You’d exhaust me. But I would enjoy it, I suppose,” he added as an afterthought and Bay punched him lightly.

A phone rang in the house and Bay looked surprised. “What the hell?”

“I’d forgotten I even had that installed,” Tom said mildly, not moving, “Let the answering machine get it.”

Bay kissed his pec. “When have you got to get to work?”

Tom grinned. “Unlike your lotus-eating, creative types, I have meetings from nine so I’m out of action all day.”

Bat grimaced. “Ugh. I’ll just have to go to the studio.” She sighed dramatically. “When will this toil ever end?” She grinned at a laughing Tom as she slipped from the bed, avoiding his reach as he grabbed at her.

“Why don’t you grab a shower. I’ll put some coffee on.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Funny girl.”

In the kitchen, Tom filled the coffee maker while he listened to the voicemail message. Halfway through, he stopped.

Tom, Bay, it’s Roman. Look there’s no easy way to say this, but you’re all over the news and a lot of it isn’t ...isn’t …good. Look, they’re making a big deal of the fact that you’re sleeping together and that The 9th & Pine are suddenly a huge deal. You can guess the rest. Call me when you get this.

Tom cursed loudly.

“So, I’m a whore, is that it?”

He hadn’t seen Bay standing in the doorway of the kitchen, wrapped in his robe. She looked as if she might cry and he went to her immediately.

“No one thinks that. This is the kind of horseshit the tabloids come up with. They think it will encourage us to give them the real story—do exclusives to set the record straight. It won’t work.”

She nodded and he could see she wasn’t reassured, but he really didn’t know what else to tell her.

“Is it just online or—“ She picked up the remote control to the flat screen T.V. on the wall and flicked it on.

“So what do we think? Is “Fire for You” about the gorgeous Tomas Meir?” The jabbering idiot on the Entertainment channel was clearly enjoying herself, talking to her perma-tanned co-presenter.

“I’d say so, Dreema. After all, wouldn’t you write a love song about your billionaire boyfriend if he’d just landed you the record deal of your dreams?”

Tom made a disgusted noise and gestured for her to turn it off, but Bay shook her head, her expression pinched and angry. “These women live in the 21st Century, right?”

“Ignore it. It’s trash. Those screeching harpies will be all about someone else tomorrow. Pure jealousy.”

Bay gave a humorless laugh. “Jealous because I get the billionaire and the record deal with my magical, yet gold-digging vagina?”

Tom was annoyed then. “No, jealous because you’re talented, Bay. Do you think we’d be together if you were anything like what they’re describing? Would you be with someone who would buy you a career?”

Bay shrugged. “No. But it doesn’t stop other people’s opinions being colored by this crap. Every time we’re interviewed now, I’ll feel as if it’s some sort of trap to get me to admit my dastardly ways.”

Tom went to her. “Which is why we hired Emily, remember? Look, go shower and I’ll call her.”

When he called Emily, the call went straight to voicemail. “Hey, Emily, Tom Meir here. Look, I’ve got a major PR problem and a very skittish girlfriend. Can you call me back when you get this, please?”

 

The coffee in the hospital cafeteria was surprisingly good. Emily and Dash sat opposite each other at a small table, watching the room fill with staff coming on and off shift.

Dash reached over to loop a strand of blonde hair over her ear. “You’re exhausted.”

“No more than you. You’ve gone above and beyond for us. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Their eyes locked then and Emily felt her whole body respond as Dash leaned forward to kiss her. “Mmm,” he said. “Definitely my pleasure.”

She grinned. “You are so cheesy.”

He nodded, resigned. “I know, I know.”

Emily took a deep breath in. “Dash …before anything happens with us …anything more, I mean,” she added, grinning shyly. “I have to tell you. I’m sort of seeing someone. Well, not really, but there has been someone I’ve been …we’re …”

“Fuck buddies?” Dash grinned as she choked on her coffee. Emily wiped her chin, laughing.

“If you like. But he’s a good friend and a good man. Out of respect for him, I want to settle things between us.”

Dash nodded. “Understood.”

He didn’t say anything more and suddenly Emily was nervous. “Not that I’m expecting anything, Dash. You know that ...I’m not presuming that …”

“I want you.” His voice was soft and low, his gaze riveted on her. “I want you in every way, Emily Moore. If you’ll have me.”

She smiled, bashful but delighted, and was about to say something when she heard the voice she’d been dreading, calling her name. Her sister had arrived.

 

Afterward, Emily swore blind that Paige had flown into the hospital room, scarves trailing behind her, and prostrated herself on Henry’s bed crying, “My son! My darling boy! Mama’s here!”

Dash grinned at her over her breakfast table. “It wasn’t quite like that, but yes, that was the impression.”

 

Paige, of course, had loved the mother role, especially when suddenly the hospital staff was extra-accommodating to the star in their midst. Emily felt shoved to the side as Paige cooed and fawned over her son. Henry was barely conscious, his eyes, gummy from sleep, opening and closing and looking at Paige in astonishment.

“Mom?”

Paige smiled fondly down at him, smoothing his damp hair away from the child’s face.

“Darling, you’re in a hospital. You’ve had surgery for your tummy ache. Appendicitis. Do you know what that is?”

“He’s eight, Paige. Of course he does.”

Paige ignored her sister. “I was very worried.”

“I want Auntie Emily.”

Paige was quiet and Emily saw her lips tighten. “I’m here now, darling. Auntie Emily is just there. Look.”

Henry reached up to Emily as she bent to kiss him and Paige got between them, pushing him back on the bed.

“Careful, darling. Careful. The doctor had to give you a little cut on the tummy to get the bad part out. It needs to heal. You need to be careful of the stitches.”

Emily ground her teeth, but smiled at Henry. “How do you feel, champ?”

“Sleepy …and thirsty.”

Paige made an almost comical grab at the water beside his bed before Emily could reach it. “Here you go, Henry, baby.”

Emily saw Dash at the door, stifling a grin. When he met her gaze, he rolled her eyes, making her smile. Paige looked up to see the handsome man at the door and Emily watched in amusement as she switched into seduction mode.

“Who’s this?”

Emily introduced them. “Quartet, huh? They wanted to sign me years ago, but I was loyal to Sony, you know? They gave me my first break.”

Dash put his head to the side. “Really? How many years ago?”

Emily choked back a snort of laughter.

“I don’t remember. Ten … twelve …”

Dash looked at Emily and winked.

Paige sniffed and turned away from him. Dash went to the bed grinned at Henry.

“You okay, buddy?”

Henry was dropping again, but he managed a nod and a wave before his head flopped back onto the pillow and his eyes closed.

Paige motioned them out of the room. “Best if I stay with him for a while. You two have been wonderful, but, as I said to the doctor, he’ll need his mother now.”

 

Emily had vented her spleen about that last comment the entire ride home, and as soon as Dash pulled the car up to the apartment, she suddenly laughed. “God, that felt good.”

Dash poked his ears. “Are they bleeding? I think they’re bleeding.”

They were still laughing when they got into her apartment, but then an awkward silence fell. They were alone.

“Would you like some coffee?”

Dash nodded. “That would be good. After sex, of course.”

Emily looked up, her breath catching, but then she saw he was kidding. “You are a bad man.”

“I hope so.” He followed her into the kitchen. “Look, I completely respect your situation. Just—can I ask—just don’t delay too long.” He caught her as she turned to make the coffee. “And I’m not so understanding that I won’t steal a kiss from you now …”

Her head spun as he kissed her, his fingers knotting in her hair, his eyes closed, and his pleasure obvious. God … she would call Isaiah as soon as she could and get things settled, because, damn, she could feel Dash’s cock harden against her belly and she wanted desperately to finish what they had started.

She gently pushed him away, smiling. “I’m trying to be good, Dashiell. Stop tempting me or I’ll jump you right now and then I shall forever be a fallen woman.”

She moved away from him then, and almost as an afterthought, remembered her phone was switched off. She grabbed her purse and pulled it out. Her voicemail was full.

“Damn,” she said, alerting Dash.

“What is it?”

“Something must have happened. My messages are insane.” She listened to the first one and groaned. “The press is doing a number on Bay and Tom. She’s freaking out. Oh damn, damn …”

Dash sighed, his face grim. “Well, I guess we go back to work.”

 

“So you’re saying we do nothing?” Bay looked tired and stressed, but was nodding along with what Emily and Dash were saying.

“I think if we make a fuss or react in any way, we’ll make it worse. We need to treat it for what it is: gutter journalism. No one who matters cares what they say. Y our fans, your true fans, really don’t give a crap who you’re screwing.” Dash smiled at her.

Bay considered. “If you’re sure. They will ask about Tom in interviews, though. Even the respectable press.”

Emily pushed her breakfast plate away. “Just say the truth: Yes, you are in a relationship, but you’d like to keep it private.”

Dash squinted at her. “Yeah, because that’ll shut ‘em up.”

Emily poked her tongue out at him. “Quiet, Dashiell, the mistress is speaking.”

Bay’s eyebrows shot up and she smothered a grin. “You heard her, Dashiell.”

“Women.” But Dash was grinning. Bay smiled to herself. Maybe she had won the bet after all. Emily and Dash were so easy with each other—so relaxed; they reminded her of Tom and herself—always teasing and kidding around.

“So, the plan is to do nothing.”

“Yup.”

“That’s right. What we do have to talk about is the album launch next week.” Emily grinned at Bay’s stricken face. “Relax, this is the good part, I swear. The buzz is already building, Bay. This part’s going to be easy, I promise.”

Bay still looked green. “I’ll trust you, but I don’t really want to discuss the launch without the others. Are you free tomorrow?”

Emily nodded. “Sure thing, but I do need to get back to ‘Frisco today. I’m picking the munchkin up today,” she said to Dash. “And then, afterward, I’ve got to go do that other thing.” They exchanged a look Bay didn’t understand.

“I’ll take you to the airport.”

Emily smiled at Dash. “Thanks, that would be great. Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.”

Bay watched Dash watching Emily as she walked across the diner to the bathrooms, then nudged him.

“You are smitten, Hamilton.”

Dash grinned back, unabashed. “Like you wouldn’t believe. Is this how you felt when you and Tom met?”

Bay smiled remembering. “I couldn’t think of anything else but him. All this really exciting stuff was happening with the band and all I could think of was Tom. Is it like that for you?”

Dash smiled. “Exactly.”

Bay leaned over the table and grabbed his hand, her eyes shining. “I’m so happy for you, Dash. Although, obviously …”

“…if I hurt her, you’ll kick my ass.”

“Damn straight.”

Dash laughed. “I’d like to see you try, shorty.”

 

Emily made her way back to the hospital almost in a daze. She’d gone straight to Isaiah’s gym straight from the airport, expecting to be there for a couple of hours, at least, explaining herself.

It hadn’t worked out like that at all. Isaiah had greeted her with a wide smile and when she had stammered out that she thought they should part ways, he had put a hand on her shaking one.

“Girl, chill. I kind of figured when you hadn’t called for a month. We never said we were serious or exclusive. We friend-zoned each other way before we even started, if we’re honest.”

Emily felt a weight lift. “Really?”

Isaiah laughed. “Really. Listen, I have to get back to work, but, look, if nothing else, I’d like to stay friends, so check in from time to time. You up for that?”

“Definitely.” She threw her arms around him, the sheer relief of his generosity making her tearful. He hugged her and whispered in her ear. “Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy.”

 

Now, as she made her way up to Henry’s hospital room, she shook her head. How did she get so lucky with the men in her life? Isaiah, Henry, Dash …she felt blessed. She smiled at the nurse who had been assigned to Henry.

“How is he today? I’m hoping you’ll let me take him home soon …” She stopped when she saw the look on the nurse’s face. He glanced over at the doctor who was talking to a colleague. “Miss Moore, the doctor will be over to talk to you in a second.”

A cold spike of fear drilled through her. “Why …is Henry okay? Is he okay?” She heard her voice climb a few decibels. The nurse held his hands up.

“Henry is absolutely fine, I’m sorry to worry you. It’s just …god …look …” He motioned for her to come closer. “I shouldn’t be saying this. It wasn’t my decision and I argued against it, but the doctor let her take him.”

Emily’s heart stopped. “Let who take him?” But she knew. Without waiting for an answer, she brushed past him, ignored the doctor who reached out to stop her, and threw open the door to Henry’s room. He was gone.

Paige had reclaimed her child.

 

Dash got there a couple of hours later, by which time she’d talked herself into an icy calm. She filled him in on what had happened, boiling it down to the basics. Paige had worked her charms on the doctor and he’d allowed her to take Henry home—to wherever home was. She’d called Paige, who had calmly explained that Henry was okay and was going to stay with her in her penthouse suite for a while.

“After all, Em, you’re working all hours at the moment and Henry needs full time care. This is the best solution.”

Emily reigned in her temper. “I want to see him.”

“You’re welcome at any time, Emily, of course. Henry’s not a prisoner. He’s allowed visitors.” Her sister’s high tinkling laugh made Emily want to smash the phone to pieces.

 

“Visitors,” she repeated now to Dash, “I’m a visitor. Not the person who’s raised him for the last four years. A visitor. That fucking bitch knows exactly what she’s doing.”

Dash moved to her side. “You okay?”

She shook her head. “No, Dash, I’m not. I’m mad. I’m pissed as hell. And I’m going to fight her for full custody of Henry.”

Dash nodded. “I think …that’s a good move, but can I sound a word of caution?”

Emily drew in a couple of deep breaths. “Okay …but carefully.”

Dash grinned, stroking her cheek. “You can beat my ass afterward if you like …but listen. Fight as hard as you can. I will back you up all the way. So will all your friends. But don’t put Henry in the middle. She will try to do that and every time she does, however hard it is, you back off. Let her win the little battles so you can win the war. In the meantime, we keep a record of every time she tries to pull a trick, play dirty, or tries to use Henry as a pawn. Then, when you get your day in court, we’ll have the upper hand. When you’re with Henry, forget everything else but being with him in the moment. Listen to him and ask him about his life. Be his best friend without trying too hard.”

Emily was staring at him in amazement and suddenly her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.”

Dash looked confused. “What for?”

“For misjudging you so entirely when we met. God, Dash, what you just said to me …the arrogant little douche that came to my office is a million miles away from who you really are.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly and then laughed with her. She kissed him softly.

“I mean it. Who was that? Because that’s not the man I’m falling for.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as they kissed and Dash tightened his arms around her. “I’m falling so hard for you, Dashiell …”

He picked her up and carried her to her bedroom, then they were tearing each other’s clothes off, desperately to be connect their bodies skin-on-skin as they fell naked onto her bed. Dash slid his hand between her legs to find her already wet, and as he stroked her, she wrapped her legs around him.

“Don’t wait,” she panted. “I need you inside me …please.”

Dash grinned, his cock already so hard and ready for her, and as he kissed her, she guided him inside. With one hard thrust, he plunged deep inside her, the relief of finally being able to lose themselves in each other spurring them on. Emily’s legs tightened around him as she moved to meet every thrust of his hips, willing him deeper. Her fingernails dug deeply into his buttocks. His mouth was rough on hers, his tongue exploring. Tasting.

As they neared climax, he grabbed her hands and pinned them on either side of her head, his eyes locked on hers as his hips slammed into hers.

“Emily …” he said breathlessly, and she moaned at the desire in his voice. She was almost delirious as she came, her sex swollen and raw from being fucked so expertly, and she cried out his name again and again as she felt his body stiffen, then jerk as he ejaculated deep inside of her.

Dash buried his face in her neck, breathing hard. She kissed the firm shoulders and the biceps that cradled her face.

Neither of them spoke. There was no need for words.

 

“I should really learn to cook,” Bay said idly as she drove Tom and herself home. “We spend too much money on take-out and restaurants. My aunt would murder me if she knew I wasn’t making you roti or biryani. Maybe I should learn to cook challah for you.”

Tom looked at her bemused. “My mom would be pleased. But you don’t have to.”

She grinned at him. “I’d like to blend our traditions. I love that idea.”

“I love you,” he said, leaning to kiss her. He sat back and fidgeted with the glove box. Bay rolled her eyes. It had been her idea to drive for once but Tom was a terrible passenger. She told him that.

“I’m hurt,” he said, clutching his chest in mock outrage and she giggled. A few minutes later, she was pulling into the car port of their houseboat.

When he got out, Tom made a big show of checking the car for damage and Bay was play-fighting and giggling when they both heard the clang of a trash can being tipped over in their yard. They stopped and stared into the gloom of the yard. Something flashed and Tom was running. “Get in the house, Bay. Do it!”

Bay hesitated, wanting to go after him and help him, but she knew Tom would be angry if she didn’t do as he said. He was paranoid about her safety. She went into the house, but hovered by the door, ready to help Tom if he needed it. A few seconds later, he appeared, looking pissed.

“It’s okay. Just some damn pap going through our trash.”

Bay gaped at him. “That’s gross …what the hell?”

Tom shut the door behind and locked it. “Gutter rats,” he muttered, going into the kitchen and washing his hands. Bay stood behind him, rubbing his back and trying to calm him.

“Tom …would you feel better if we lived in one of those penthouse suites, surrounded by security? I mean, I always thought it was odd, you being, you know, who you are, and …”

Tom suddenly smiled. “Not living the stereotypical life of a billionaire?”

“Well,” Bay hesitated, then chuckled, “Yeah, I guess I do mean that. I mean, I look at Dash and he subscribes to every stereotype there is.”

“On the outside.” Tom smiled and motioned for her to follow him into the lounge. As they sat, he continued. “Dash …well, he’s still finding his way. Sometimes it’s easier to stick to the stereotypes while you find your way. He’s still very young—only a couple of years older than you.”

“But you didn’t follow the crowd,” Bay said, studying the man she loved. He was such an original, such a beautiful soul. Her man. Her heart.

Tom inclined his head. “Yes, but I’m stubborn. All I ever wanted really was to be involved with music. I never wanted the big houses or fast cars.”

“But you live in a million-dollar houseboat and drive a Merc,” she teased him.

“Hey, I just said it wasn’t my ambition. Doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the riches. All I care about is that you’re safe and warm and loved.”

She crawled across the couch and into his arms. “I feel all those things and I wish the same for you.” She kissed him, tenderly and softly.

Tom sighed. “Honey, we can expect more of what happened tonight when the album drops. The buzz for the band is already insane, and, although I hate that this is an issue, the fact that you’re my girlfriend and totally drop-dead gorgeous means that the intrusion on your life is inevitable. The fact that all of three of you have something that they’ll latch onto is inevitable; Pete is gay, and however much it shouldn’t be a talking point, it will be. I know,” he said as she rolled her eyes and looked annoyed.

“It’s the twenty-first century and it shouldn’t even be a concern, but we have to be realistic. The tabloids are assholes. They’ll pick his life apart, and yours, and Kym’s. Her thing is her parents—there will be constant comparisons and constant attention. It is what it is.”

Bay let her head fall back onto the couch. “God, all we want to do is make music for a living.”

“I know, but—“

“Yeah. Well, thank god we have Emily and Dash to save us from the worst. They make a cute couple, huh?”

Tom raised his eyebrows. “You matchmaking?”

She shook her head. “I forget you don’t see them together as much as we do. Major chemistry. I mean, major …like you and me.”

Tom chewed his lip, looking worried, and Bay, grinning, smacked him with a pillow. “Hey, don’t you dare give me the “let’s keep it professional” speech. We didn’t.”

Tom laughed. “I guess we didn’t.” He pulled her closer and kissed her. “Let’s go to bed, Baijayanthi, and I’ll show you again just how unprofessional I can be …”

 

Even before she opened her eyes, Emily reveled in the feeling of being held by Dash Hamilton, his bare skin on hers, his fingers splaying over her belly, and his lips resting on her shoulder as he slept beside her. His other hand held hers, his arm flung over the pillow above her head.

She opened her eyes and gazed at the ceiling. Last night had been, without a doubt, the most erotic of her life. Her entire body felt as if every bone had been removed, every nerve ending caressed, and her skin soothed. Dash was an incredibly unselfish lover and he had fucked her so thoroughly and expertly that she completely lost herself.

She turned her head to look at him in the early morning light. His chestnut hair was messy and too long, his dark eyelashes falling onto smooth-skinned cheeks. When he opened his eyes, she would sink into the deep blue of them, enjoying the way they would lift at the corners in a smile.

Almost as if she had wished it, Dash woke. “Hey beautiful,” he said, his voice scratchy from sleep. He leaned over and kissed her. “Sorry about the morning breath.”

She giggled and kissed him back. “Ditto.”

Dash sighed happily. “Do I ever have to move from here?”

Emily laughed. “Well, I would prefer it if you peed in the bathroom.”

They laughed together. “Actually, I’m really thirsty.” Emily reluctantly slid from his arms and got up. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Right behind you.”

Emily stuck her head back in the bedroom. “Your spare toothbrush is where you left it.”

“I get the hint,” he grinned, sliding from the covers. Emily’s eyes swept over his naked body, his broad chest, long legs, flat stomach, and his cock. God, that body, she thought with a satisfied smile. That body was all mine all night. She caught Dash smiling at her, obviously enjoying her scrutiny.

“Maybe a glass of water would be better,” he said, walking toward her. “Quicker. Then a shower—a hot shower where I’ll get you all soapy and slippery and wet …”

Emily turned and darted back into his arms. “Screw the water, just take me, Dash. Now …”

In the shower, they fucked furiously, clawing at each other as the water pounded them, then falling, laughing, delirious, and happy to the bathroom floor.

 

Kym Clayton waved merrily to Pete as he drew up outside her apartment. Pete, opening the passenger door, whistled as he took in the neighborhood Quartet had moved his friend too. “Very nice.”

“You would have known that sooner if you and Hank ever came over, but you’re always so busy lately.” Kym grinned at him as she buckled up. Pete kissed her cheek. “Sorry, honey, some stuff has been going on. Nothing to worry about,” he added when he saw her frown. “Just stuff.”

Kym relaxed. “God, can you believe it’s here? We’re actually releasing the album tonight. An album! Our album!”

She giggled and Pete laughed. “Jeez, I know, right? The kids in my class are so excited that their teacher is going to be a rock star. They’ve all told me their parents are sick of them reminding them to buy the record.”

Kym hooted. “Good thing Roman insisted Bay remove all of her cursing then.”

Pete grinned. “Who knew our little Baijayanthi had such a potty mouth?”

“That’s cause she’s getting laid properly.”

“Word. What about you, then? Any prospects on the horizon?”

Kym rolled her eyes. “No, thank god. No disrespect, but I’ve had my fill of men for a long time. Anyway, there’ll be groupies …” She grinned at Pete, who sighed dramatically.

“What have I done to land myself with two such slutty bandmates? And me so innocent, too.”

Pete drove them towards the Quartet Seattle offices. That night, The 9th & Pine would officially release their debut album and all three of them were excited and disbelieving in equal measure.

Kym’s cell phone buzzed and she frowned as the caller I.D. came up as blank. “Hello?”

“Hi.”

Her stomach dropped. Stu. “What do you want?” She glanced at Pete, but he was concentrating on the road.

“Hey, listen, I just called to say …God, Kym, I’m so sorry. I can’t tell you how ashamed I am, or how desperately sorry. What I did to you was unforgivable. Unforgivable.”

Kym digested this. “Okay.”

“I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Kym’s eyes narrowed and she looked out of the window so Pete couldn’t see her. “I can’t talk right now.”

“Can I call you later?”

“I’m busy later.”

“I heard about the album launch. Congratulations, Kym. You deserve it.”

“Thanks. So …”

“Find five minutes. That’s all I ask. I’ll be on this number all day.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you. I miss you, Kym.”

She hung up and sighed. Damn it. She felt herself withdrawing into the frightened woman she had been when Stu had beaten her, emotionally and physically, into submission.

Pete steered the car into the underground parking garage under the Quartet building. He looked over to her. “You okay?”

Kym nodded. “Just a random hook up I can’t get rid of,” she said lightly. She held her breath, but Pete seemed to accept that.

Upstairs, Bay met them, grinning. Kym noticed how relaxed her best friend was. She glowed with happiness, her café-au-lait skin shining with radiance. Not for the first time, Kym felt a pang. She knew she herself was attractive, her blonde hair falling in a platinum curtain down past her breasts, her face finely sculptured, but sometimes she envied Bay her soft beauty, those dark eyes that made people feel loved, and comfortable in her presence. Her own beauty was definitely a more brittle thing.

Bay tucked her arms under her friends’. “And, by the way, Emily and Dash are already here and I think you’ll find, my fine friends, that you owe me money. They’ve definitely done it.”

Pete and Kym laughed. “Pictures or it didn’t happen.”

“Eww, Pete!”

Pete’s laughter, loud and deep, bounced around the corridor. “In a manner of speaking, of course.”

Hushing them, Bay quietly opened the door to the conference room. Tom and Roman had disappeared and only Emily and Dash were in the room …kissing. Bay, grinning, closed the door gently.

“Pay up, bitches.”

Crowing, she took her friends’ money and danced around the corridor in a victory dance as her friends laughed at her.

 

Inside the room, Dash broke off the kiss, regretful but smiling. “If we don’t stop,” he said when she pouted, “I’ll have to take you on this table and that door doesn’t have a lock.”

Emily sighed and stepped away from him. “Good point. God, I’m nervous.”

“Why?” Dash pulled out a chair and sat down. “Everything’s planned to the last minute. Starts at seven p.m., Roman introduces the band, Tom does his thing, the band plays the three-song set, everyone claps and cheers, and we all get drunk. Then we wait for midnight to see how it hits the iTunes chart.”

“If it hits the iTunes chart.”

Dash grinned. “With the both of us blanketing the press and radio, how can it not? Buzz is better than I’ve seen for any act we’ve championed—even Rocky.”

Emily smiled and shook her head at him. “Don’t tell her that.”

“Is she coming tonight?”

“She was supposed to, but she called Bay earlier and apologized. Her partner is pregnant and sick and the kids need some stability.”

“How many do they have?”

“Seven.”

“Seven?” Dash was incredulous. “How the hell does Rocky find the time to be a mother, a partner, and a top-five rap star?”

Emily looked smug. “She is a woman, Dashiell. That is all.”

Dash laughed and saluted her. “Of course. Speaking of kids, how’s Henry?”

“He’s almost fully fit,” she said with a smile. “We went to get ice cream yesterday and he ate two huge scoops of mint chocolate chip. Then, at home, he threw them up. Luckily—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—it was Paige’s home and not mine.”

“How did Paige take the news of the custody suit?”

Emily sighed. “She said she expected it and that even if I thought she couldn’t parent Henry effectively, she would spend the time between now and the court date proving otherwise. Now that she’s between contracts, she said, she had all the time in the world to devote to Henry. I said a few words that were probably not helpful about her losing interest at the next opportunity. She didn’t seem to hold it against me, though.”

“And that pisses you off?”

Emily tried to smile. “I know it shouldn’t and that this is all good for Henry. It’s just …I want her to fuck up so I can say, ’See? I’m a better mother.’ I just miss him.”

Dash pulled her into a hug. “I know, sweetheart. I wish there was something I could do.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. “You are doing something. You’re here, you listen, and you help me immeasurably. Which is why I’m falling so hard for you.”

Dash smiled, smoothing her hair back behind her ears. “That? That’s what I like to hear, and just so you know …” He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I’ve already fallen.”

So many emotions flooded through her that she couldn’t speak. Joy. “Oh, Dash …” She choked up and he caught her mouth with his, kissing her until she gasped for air.

 

The Paramount Theater at the corner of 9th Street and Pine was alive with concert goers that evening. All the faithful fans from their covers days had been invited to the album launch, as well as music press and industry insiders. It was another hour before the event was due to start and Kym left her two band members in the dressing room and snuck outside with her phone.

For five minutes, she stared at the screen, debating whether to call Stu back. What are you doing? she asked herself, but then found herself dialing his number.

“Sweetheart.”

“Hey.”

“Thank you for calling, I’ve been waiting to hear your voice again.”

“Stu, tell me. What is it you want?”

“Just to talk. No, that’s crap, Kym. I love you. I want you back.”

Kym laughed, then, a mirthless sound. “Stu, I’m hanging up now.”

“No, wait, please. I know I’ve fucked up but—“

“What did you do to Bay?” She had to ask the question. She had to know.

Stu was silent for a time, then laughed softly. “It all comes back to that bitch, doesn’t it? What is your deal with her, Kym? Do you want to fuck her? Is that it?”

And the true colors show themselves. “Stu, don’t call. Don’t call—don’t even think my name again. It is over. Goodbye.”

She ended the call, feeling free and light. She considered the palpable feelings that were lifting her whole body and laughed. It was truly over now. She had the closure she wanted. She looked at her cell phone, then walking to the nearest dumpster, dumped it inside. She was a rock star now. She could afford a new one.

Kym breathed in a lungful of fresh Seattle air and went inside to join her friends.

 

 

Emily found Dash waiting for them in the green room. “Hey beautiful,” he said. “What a night.”

She grinned. “Weren’t they incredible? I swear they get better every time I see them.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Are you coming out to the stage? Most everyone has stayed to hear if the album’s charted, even the fans. The building people decided to let them stay because the band’s given them so much publicity. The manager even told me that ticket sales had gone up so much they’re thinking about expanding.”

Dash smiled. “You are jabbering. You know that, right?” He put his arms around her and kissed her.

“I’m just pumped …I love this part …and this part …” She kissed him back, moaning as his hand slipped under her skirt and caressed her.

“You know,” he murmured, between kisses. “This door does have a lock.”

Giggling, she watched as he leaned over and flicked the lock. She reached for his fly as he pulled her panties down, and in seconds he was entering her, holding her up against the wall and thrusting his hips as she moaned.

“Fuck me harder,” she ordered, and grinning, Dash obliged, slamming her back against the wall and driving his cock deep inside her again, again, and again, until they were both crying out.

 

Up on the roof of the theater, Bay and Tom were in each other’s arms too, both staring at each other in amazement at the evening’s events.

“You did it,” Tom said softly. “You’re a success, baby.”

“If I am, it’s because of you.” She kissed him. “I love you so much, Tomas Meir. I can’t ever repay what you’ve done for me.”

Tomas smiled a strange smile and he took both of her hands in his. “There is a way,” he said slowly, and when he met her gaze, she could see the burning passion in them—the absolute love for her. “Before we go back inside, before we join our friends and find out just how much of a superstar you are, I want to look at you. Just here, just now. My beautiful Bay, my life began the moment I saw you. Marry me, Bay. Marry me and make me the luckiest man in the world …”

There were tears dropping down her cheeks, but she was smiling, radiant and glowing in the moonlight. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Tom, I will marry you …”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his own tears mingling with hers. “I love you. I love you so, so much …”

Bay tangled her fingers into his hair and they were so involved in kissing that they didn’t hear the door to the roof opening and didn’t notice Roman Ford as he spotted them. He cleared his throat, embarrassed, and they broke apart, laughing at Roman’s scarlet face. He grinned at them.

“Sorry to disturb you …it’s nearly midnight.”

 

Tom stood behind Bay, his arms around her waist. His new fiancé looked as scared as her band members. Emily smiled over at her, trying to calm her down. Kym and Pete stood hand-in-hand as Roman called up the iTunes chart. Then they started a countdown to midnight and the whole crowd joined in.

“Five …four …three …two …one!”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the eponymously titled debut album from Seattle’s own The 9th & Pine is officially released!” The normally reserved Roman whooped as the three band members looked at each other in amazement.

“It really happened,” Emily said, and Dash, his hand on her back, laughed.

“Of course it did, honey. Now all we have to do is wait to see if it hits the download chart.”

During the next few minutes, while Roman refreshed the chart, there was tension in the room, the noise down to a low buzz. With the help of the theater’s technicians, Roman was casting from his laptop to the screen overhead so everyone could see the chart. At first, every time he refreshed the chart, none of the top ten albums changed, then, on the fourteenth try, they did.

There was a gasp in the auditorium followed by the briefest silence, then the room exploded.

The 9th & Pine’s debut album had entered the download chart at number one.

Kym screamed and Bay and Pete whooped with joy and hugged all of their friends. At one point, Bay hugged Emily hard, and whispered, “This was all you. Thank you, thank you, thank you …”

Emily watched the celebrations with tears in her eyes. It had never felt this good, getting one of her acts to the top. They were such a lovely bunch of people …and it was because of them that she met Dash.

His arms snaked around her waist from behind. “Congratulations, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. “Look what you did.”

She turned in his arms and kissed him hard on the mouth. “I love you, Dashiell Hamilton.” She had no fear in saying the words as fiercely as she felt the emotion. Dash smiled, his eyes shining.

“Well, now, I love you too, Miss Emily Moore.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur.

 

The next few weeks were frenetic with appearances and interviews, so much so that Emily found herself totally unprepared for her court hearing. The day before, she managed to grab lunch with Dash.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, barely touching her sandwich. “Paige has played this perfectly and timed this perfectly too. I know I sound paranoid, but it was as if she knew I’d be overwhelmed with work and unable to care for Henry. If Paige hadn’t been here, Henry would have been with babysitters nearly the whole time. God.”

Dash stole a french fry from her plate. “Sweetheart, if I could wave a wand …”

“I know.” She sighed. “Guess all I can do is show up and make my case tomorrow.”

Dash chewed his fry thoughtfully. “Can I ask? Have you asked Henry what he wants to do?”

Emily looked surprised. “Well, he wants to stay with me, of course. When I went to see him the other day, he asked me when he was going to come home.”

Dash nodded. “Okay.”

She studied him, suddenly nervous. “Why? Do you think otherwise?”

“I just think you should ask him. He’s had time to get used to being back with his mom now. Things might have changed.”

Irritated, Emily crumpled up the greaseproof paper that her sandwich had been wrapped in. “Nothing’s changed. Nothing’s changed, Dash.”

He held up his hands. “Just looking out for the kid.”

 

Later, on the plane back to San Francisco, Emily couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said. Maybe she should ask Henry. She had been so busy fighting her sister that she hadn’t stopped to think about what Henry might be feeling.

As soon as she landed, she called Paige and asked if she could come straight over and talk to them both.

“Oh, yes,” her sister said, and Emily was shocked by the anger in her voice. “You can certainly come over, Emily. We need to talk.”

 

An hour later, Paige opened the door and Emily could the anger in her face. Paige stood aside to let her in and Henry ran into her arms. She hugged the boy tightly.

“Oh, I have missed you, pumpkin.”

“I missed you, Auntie Em. Come see my room.”

Henry took her hand and dragged her along to his room. Even though it was a hotel room, Paige had had it decorated to suit Henry. There were planets and stars on dark blue paint on one wall, vintage posters from the Space Race on another, and bookshelves on the final two. Emily felt tears prick her eyes. Yes, it was all material things, but she wished she could have done this for him. For some reason, she didn’t feel that this was Paige buying Henry’s affection; no, this was, she hated to admit, an expression of love.

And Henry obviously loved it. He showed her around proudly. After a moment, Emily turned to Paige. “Do you mind if I take a moment alone with Henry? I want to ask him something.”

 

Bay zipped up the simple white dress and turned to face Kym. She grinned when she saw her friend’s face. “Stop blubbing. You’ll look all blotchy in the photos.”

At eight p.m. Tom would come to pick the two women up and drive them to City Hall, and then Bay Tambe would marry Tomas Meir in a simple ceremony attended by the couple, Kym as her maid of honor, Pete, who would give her away, his husband, Hank, and Roman, who would serve as Tom’s best man. Her one condition for marrying him so quickly had been a small wedding with minimal fuss. Tom had agreed immediately.

With their schedule so hectic, this was the first of three days the band had cleared. Bay and Tom’s honeymoon would be spent at home. “But naked the whole time,” she’d told him and he smiled. He’ll be even happier when he sees what I’m wearing for the honeymoon, she grinned to herself, thinking of the supple leather harness she had gotten from the adult store just for the occasion. You want kink, Meir, you’re going to get it.

Kym shielded her eyes as Bay twirled for her. “Jeez, holy Mary, the glow coming from you …it’s blinding me, I …”

Bay grinned and swatted her. “Funny girl.” She went into her bathroom, deftly avoiding Kym’s reach, and looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror.

Her freshly washed and dried hair hung down past her waist in mahogany waves and her skin glowed against the white of her simple dress. It fell to just above her knee. Kym, standing in the doorway, whistled. “You look beautiful. That man does you good, Miss Tambe.”

“You bet your ass he does. How long have we got …a half hour? God, it’s hot in here. I’m going to open the back door and get some air.”

Kym shooed her out. “Good …because I need to pee.”

Bay went to the living room and opened the doors to the deck. The cool air from the lake washed over her, cooling her hot body. She couldn’t quite believe that in a couple of hours, she’d be married. To Tom. She grinned, thinking of last night. Images kept coming to her as she stood there—his kiss, the feel of his fingertips on her skin, his lips on her belly, on her breasts, and the way his body felt as her legs curved around him and he moved inside her. His fervent whispers of I love you. I love you.

Bay Tambe didn’t know it was possible to be this happy.

Emily closed the door behind her and went to face her sister. Paige had poured them each a glass of wine and was sitting, cradling hers, her fingers twisting the stem of the glass nervously as she waited for Emily. Emily thanked her for the wine and dropped into the seat opposite her. For a long moment, she didn’t speak, seeming to struggle to form the words, then she leaned forward.

“What you’ve done here for Henry in these last weeks is incredible. Not just the room and not just giving him warmth and comfort. You’ve given him your time. I cannot fault you in any way. Today I realized I hadn’t asked Henry what he wanted or who he wanted to live with. And I made the decision that whatever Henry wants is what Henry gets, regardless of my feelings. Or yours.”

Paige blinked and Emily realized she was trembling. “I can agree to that.”

Emily smiled, tears in her eyes. “And he wants his mom. He wants to live with you, Paige. Of course, he does. It doesn’t mean he loves me any less, but the boy should be with his mother. It’s just …”

“I haven’t exactly been the maternal type. People change, Emily.”

“I know and I have to give you a chance. Henry’s been the bigger person here. He gave you a chance. And you proved yourself.”

Paige gulped a mouthful of wine. “So why did you send your Pitbull in this afternoon?”

Emily’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“Dash Hamilton. He was here, offering me a multi-million-dollar contract with Quartet Records—if I give up custody.” She leaned forward, fury in her eyes. “How am I supposed to know this isn’t another trick, Emily? How am I supposed to trust you ever again?”

 

Kym finished up in the bathroom. “God, this place is utter luxury,” she called out to Bay as she washed her hands. “I’ve got to get me some houseboat action. Here’s hoping the album sells millions.”

Bay didn’t answer and Kym grinned to herself. “How about I move in next door?”

Bay didn’t answer again, and this time, Kym went to find her. “Come on, it’ll be cool. Maybe we could get Pete and Hank to buy one too. Bay? Bubba?”

She walked into the living room and stopped dead. Stu smiled at her.

“Hey, girl,” he said casually. His left hand pinned Bay to the wall by the throat, but it was his other hand that Kym could not take her terrified eyes from—his right hand with his finger poised on the trigger of the gun that was pressed against Bay’s stomach.

 

 

“What the hell?” Emily was floored. Dash tried to buy Paige off? Was he kidding? She shook her head, not believing it, but knowing without a doubt that Paige was telling the truth.

Her sister was looking at her with uncertain eyes. “You really didn’t know, did you?”

Emily shook her head. “I would never have sanctioned that. Never. What the hell was he thinking?”

Paige drew in a deep breath. “He’s very young and he’s in love with you. Maybe he thought …”

“By using blackmail? I do not believe him. Paige, look. I’m going to call my lawyer and withdraw my case. Henry should be here.”

Paige got up and went to her sister, hugging her tightly. “Thank you, Emily. For everything. Not just this, but for the last four years. Hell, for the last eight. I would never have done any of this without you and it’s down to you that Henry’s grown up to be such a wonderful kid. He can come stay for holidays, or anytime you and he want, all right?”

An hour later, Emily, saddened but glad the situation was sorted, left Paige’s building, her cell phone clamped to her ear. She got Dash’s voicemail.

“I know you’re in San Francisco, Dash, and I know why. Come to my apartment. Now.”

 

So, this is simple, love,” Stu said, his tone friendly and chatty. “You go and get in my car and I won’t put a bullet in her belly. Easy, yes?”

Kym started to shake uncontrollably. “Please. Please don’t hurt her. Stu, please.”

Bay started to struggle with Stu, but he pressed the long silencer on the muzzle harder into her stomach and she winced. Kym gave a small cry.

“Please, Stu …”

He turned dead, cold eyes toward her. “You have five seconds or she’s dead.”

Kym floundered around. “You won’t get away with it. The neighbors. They’ll hear any gunshots.”

Stu laughed and waved the gun at her. “Silencer, love. I could empty this whole clip into her and they wouldn’t hear a thing.”

Kym cried out at his words, but Bay swore at him. He cuffed her around the face and turned back to Kym, who was sobbing.

“Please, Stu, please. She’s getting married today. Please leave us alone. I’ll meet you tomorrow. I promise.”

“Go get in my car. When I hear you sound the horn, I’ll let her go and join you.”

Bay shook her head. “No, Kym, don’t. He won’t do it. He’s too much a coward.”

“Shut up, bitch.” His spittle flecked her face and the pressure on her throat tightened.

Kym stepped toward them and Stu turned a rage-filled face towards her. “Go now or I’ll kill her. Go now.”

“Okay, okay. Just, please, if I do this, promise me you won’t hurt her.”

His smile was silky. “Of course. All I want is you, darling, I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

Bay gave a disgusted noise at his lie and Stu turned his cold eyes on her, challenging her.

Kym gave Bay a desperate look, then ran out of the front door. Stu didn’t release his grip, but smiled at Bay. “She’s right. You really do look beautiful in that dress.”

“Fuck you. If you hurt her …”

Stu laughed. “I’m sorry to ruin your wedding day, but you ruined my life, you fucking whore.”

They both heard the sound of the car horn. Stu released his grip, and immediately, Bay drove her knee into his groin. Stu roared and as she tried to dart around him, he grabbed her and threw her to the ground.

“Fucking bitch!” He aimed the gun at her. Bay, on her back, froze, and for a long moment, they stared at each other. Then Stu smirked, his eyes dead and cold.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment. Goodbye, Bay. At least you’ll be a beautiful corpse.” And he pulled the trigger.

 

Dash was waiting at her door as she got back to her apartment building. Wordlessly, she opened the door and let him in, walking into the kitchen and putting her bag on the table, her movements deliberately calm as she tried to quell the anger inside her.

Dash had obviously guessed why she had called. His face was drawn and his eyes were hooded and shamed. “Emily …”

“Shut up. Just shut your mouth. Who the hell do you think you are?

Dash stayed silent and let her rant.

“Blackmail? Blackmail, Dash? In what world did you think that was the way I wanted Henry back? No, don’t answer. I’ll answer for you. Because you think, Mr. Spoiled Fucking Rich Boy, that money solves everything. Never mind the feelings of the three people actually involved. Mr. Dash Hamilton will swoop in and solve it all with his big pile of crisp new dollars.”

“Wait—“

“Shut up! We are talking about a child, Dash—a child, not a bargaining chip. Jesus …” She held her head in her hands and took deep breaths in. There was a silence in the room for long moments while they both stood, listening to their breathing and hoping against hope that their hearts weren’t about to be broken

---

As the bullets slammed into her belly, Bay’s body jerked with the impact, arching upwards, then slumping backward into unconsciousness. Blood poured from her wounds, soaking the delicate cotton of her white dress, and pooling underneath the stricken woman. Stu lowered the gun. He felt no fear—in fact, he felt a rush of adrenalin and grinned to himself. Tomas Meir would be the one to find her when he came to pick her up. What he’d give to see his face.