Enticing Interlude (Tempest #2) (5 page)

“We were neighbors in rehab. I kinda forced her to be my friend.” Now why had I admitted that? It was basically true, but still. He was too easy to talk to and having the partition between us must be giving me a false sense of security.

“Me, too.” He chuckled. “Although I did try for a little something more the first time we met, but she told me in no uncertain terms how it was going to be between us.”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “That sounds like her.” Lace was a straight shooter. I liked that about her.

“I have to tell you, Bridget, that I’m interested in more than just friendship with you, too. Why don’t we go out to dinner some time? I…”

“No.” My denial was immediate. “I’m not…I mean, I don’t date.”

“Why not?” I could almost visualize his auburn brows drawing together in confusion.

“No offense, Justin, but the answer’s no, and it’s really none of your business why.” My tone was rude, my words way too harsh, but at least I had that one part of my life the way I wanted it. The way it needed to be. I’m sure my refusal didn’t even faze him. Doubtless he’d made offers like that to countless women. He’d just move onto the next one. “I’d better get back to bed now. Goodnight.”

Poof. Poof.

“What the…” I sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and looked at the half dozen orange and yellow Nerf bullets scattered in a wide debris field on the white bed linens around me. “Carter Randall Dubois,” I yelled as another Nerf projectile fell out of my hair.

I saw his smiling impish face as he poked his head cautiously within the door frame. I glanced at the bedside clock. “You scamp. It’s not even eight o’clock yet,” I complained without any real heat.

He giggled.

“I’ll get you for this.”

Surprisingly another head poked in the door, one with short honey blond hair. “You can try.” Lace’s lips curled playfully. “But superhero Carter is near invincible especially now that he has a beautiful new sidekick with lethal skills. We can totally take your ass…oops, I mean butt.”

My eyes narrowed on her even as I swung my legs over the side and my feet hit the floor. “That’s my weapon, Lace Lowell. You two better run,” I warned, lunging for them, but they took off back down the hall, Carter squealing with delight as he fled.

I entered the living room grinning, my heart wearing a matching but unseen smile. I was glad to see my boy so happy. His laughter had been rare and fleeting since Meemaw’s death. I was also delighted to see Lace enjoying herself and getting along so well with him.

Before I even had a second to prepare, I was bombed with a barrage of pillows. Three heads were now visible, bodies safely shielded by the couch that had been rotated to the center of the room to provide cover for the conspirators.

I put my hand on my hips trying to force my grinning face into a mock scowl. I was totally unsuccessful and laughed instead, watching a final decorative couch cushion arcing in the air toward me. I caught it and let out a practiced maniacal laugh (I was usually the villain when Carter and I played) that had my boy ducking. He knew what it meant. I lobbed the pillow like a grenade and launched myself over the back of the couch to get the little stinker.

He had earned himself a major tickling session.

Later that morning after Carter had been served his comeuppance and the couch was back in its proper position against the wall, we ate breakfast. Lace, Carter, and I sat around the circular mahogany dining room table, while Bryan leaned against the kitchen counter next to us scarfing a bowl of cereal. Suddenly, Lace’s cell bleeped with an incoming text.

She picked it up, looked at the screen, and smiled broadly. “He did it.” She glanced over at Bryan. “Justin told Mary he wants a tryout. That he won’t agree to join the group unless you guys want him to. Isn’t that great, Bry?”

“Yeah.” Bryan appeared stunned by the news.

Lace’s thumbs moved quickly as she typed into her phone. Her cell bleeped again almost immediately. “Justin says he’ll meet us at studio eight at noon,” she relayed the message. “I’ll just text everyone to let them know.” When she was done, she set down her phone and turned to me. “This all worked out because of you, Gigi. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied automatically. “But I didn’t really do anything. If this Mary’s as scary as you all think, it’s really Justin who stuck his neck out.”

“She’s a total badass.” Lace’s eyes rounded. “Shit.” She gasped and reached over and covered Carter’s ears.

I snorted. “It’s too late for that. He already heard you. And anyway, you won’t teach him anything new. Unfortunately, he’s known all the major swears since he was three. Meemaw used to curse something fierce. I gave up trying to shield him and focused my energy on teaching him not to repeat them instead.”

“I’m sorry about her passing.” Lace’s expression turned sympathetic. “It’s obvious you were really close.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled eyes filling as I’d gotten accustomed to them doing so readily lately. She had no idea. Her absence had left a terrible void, one I knew no one could ever fill. The trick was to keep busy so I didn’t dwell too much on it.

“You should go into the studio with us today.” Lace took my hand from where it rested beside my empty coffee cup and squeezed. “It’ll be fun, and I want you to meet my brother. Diz is really cute. And the rest of the guys are too, of course.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I really should prioritize getting Carter enrolled in kindergarten.” I pulled in a deep breath through my nose. I had a lot to do to get us settled. “And then I need to figure out the public transportation system so I can look for a job, and I need to find us a permanent place to live, and…”

“Bridget, stop,” she interrupted, concern causing a crease between her eyes. “You and Carter are welcome to stay here for as long as you need to.”

“Thank you.” I wasn’t used to generosity like that. In the world I came from, gifts always had a price tag on them.

“And didn’t you just tell me last night that your grandmother left you a sizeable inheritance?”

I nodded. It was not even close to what I might once have had, but it was more than enough for Carter and me to live on if we’d been able to stay in her house that was all paid off back in Florida. But not nearly enough considering the rent and utility bills we’d face each month here. “But I don’t want to impose on you any longer than necessary.”

“You’re not imposing. I like having you and Carter around.” She ruffled Carter’s already mussed bed head hair. “And anyway don’t you think you should take at least a day to get settled? Carter and I have a game we need to finish, too. Don’t we buddy?”

He nodded enthusiastically. I suspected he was way past simple adoration and well into full out obsession mode with my beautiful friend. “Please, Mommy.” He blinked his cute little baby blues at me. “I’d like to play more video games with Miss Lace and I’d like to go see her rock star friends.”

“Ok.” I exhaled. “But Carter, you know Miss Lace is a real rock star herself. I showed you the magazine pictures of her with Tempest and Bryan, too. He’s the guitarist.”

Carter’s eyes went back and forth between the two of them and then got big. He hopped off his chair and without another word, dashed to the bedroom. When he returned, he held open the Rolling Stone issue that featured Tempest. Eyes squinting, he stood next to Bryan seeming to compare the picture to reality. “Can I have your autograph,” he asked apparently deciding Bryan was the real deal.

“He’s gets it from me for sure. At his age I had a total obsession with the Beatles. Maybe I have an old soul, but then music speaks to me.”

“Sure, sport.” Bryan grinned, the muscles on his intricately tatted arms flexing as he moved the pen, adding one more to his long list of admirers.

I shook the rain water from my hair after kickstanding the Triumph. I’d misjudged the weather. Good thing my guitar case was water repellant. I should’ve taken a cab, but I so preferred to ride. The motorcycle was much better than a car for zipping in and out of Vancouver traffic. Except for when it rained. I pocketed the key, strode quickly through the parking garage, and pushed open the glass door to enter Black Cat Records.

I was running late. Again.

“Hey Karen.” I stopped in front of the receptionist desk, rivulets of water rolling down my leather sleeves and onto the gray carpet. “How’s it going?”

“Good. Pretty quiet today, though. Your sister’s here.”

“Really?” I hadn’t seen her since she got back from a visit to see my dad on the island. I hadn’t mentioned the Tempest thing to her yet, and didn’t plan to until things were decided.

“What’s she up to?”

“She’s in studio twelve.” Karen looked at her computer screen. “The note says she’s supposed to be laying down vocals for her solo album.”

I nodded. I was curious to hear what she had so far. She was being unusually secretive about the whole deal. I made a mental note to catch up with her later just as Karen’s phone rang.

“Black Cat Records,” she answered cheerily.

I tapped the granite surface of the desk and mouthed, “See you later.” The heels of my boots sank into the thick carpeted runner as I turned the corner and entered the long corridor that led to all the recording rooms. I stopped in front of number eight

Holy hell.

Everyone was already inside. Good thing it was the largest studio because in addition to Lace and the four remaining members of Tempest, Bridget was there, along with a wide eyed little boy who was tucked close to her side. The physical resemblance left no doubt that they were related.

The mysterious Carter
,
no doubt.
So she had a little brother.

His eyes were aquamarine just like hers and his chin length hair the same shade of platinum blonde. There was definitely a wide age gap between the two siblings. I noticed that Bridget was dressed much the same as she’d been yesterday, jeans a size too big, loose button down shirt, no makeup. Yet still incredibly beautiful.

While I was staring, a smile spread across her face, two dimples peeking out, and she laughed. The musical sound of her laughter hit me like a warmth infused dart square in the center of my chest. The Tempest drummer standing next to her was apparently the cause of her mirth. As King continued to gesticulate wildly, her head went back, and she laughed even harder, waving an arm in front of herself as if appealing for him to stop. That’s when she saw me standing in the doorway. The sparkle in her beautiful eyes extinguished, her mouth closed, and her laughter died. Her cautious veneer returned as she coolly considered me.

The little boy’s head lifted. He looked up at her and then followed the direction of her gaze. “Who’s that man?”

“Justin,” she explained. “The one who’s trying out for lead singer today.”

“The one no one likes.”

Ah, from the mouths of babes…the unvarnished truth.

“No kiddo,” she said looking embarrassed. “It’s not that the guys don’t like him, it’s just that they’re not sure he’s the right one for the group.”

“Sorry, I’m a little late.” I pasted on a confident smile and entered the twenty by fourteen foot space, feeling the heavy weight of a roomful of stares. The rasp of my jacket zipper going down sounded unusually loud. “I’ll be ready to go in just a sec,” I threw out in an effort to break the expectant silence.