TamingTai (2 page)

“Sorry, I just thought…nothing. I wanted to say hello, is
all. Congratulate you on your success. No one deserves it more than you.”

She hadn’t told him the whole of it, but that much was true.
He was the hardest-working, most disciplined person she’d ever met and it had
clearly paid off.

He nodded his thanks, then looked away. His profile was
stunning. Helpless to stop herself, she lifted a hand to his face to brush his cheek
with her thumb. Heat sizzled through her even at that slight touch.

He jerked away as if she’d bit him. “Don’t,” he growled.

Gone was the cold, impenetrable gaze. Heat blazed in his
eyes and his jaw tensed. It lasted only an instant, the shutters slamming back
into place in a flash, but he wasn’t nearly as unaffected as he would have her
believe. That single moment in time thawed the ice in her veins, just enough to
make it bearable. He had some feelings for her. Good or bad, but definitely not
indifferent, even after all this time. If there was a chance, any chance at
all, that he could forgive her…that he might even consider letting her in his
life again, she wouldn’t give up just because he wasn’t going to make it easy
on her. She’d certainly never made it easy on him and he’d stuck by her until
the very end.

Maybe they could have a do-over, a different end. She sucked
in a breath and stepped forward.

“The other reason I came is because…I think about you every
day. Every night. I’ve missed you, Tai.”

Each word was like a knife in the chest. He should’ve cut
her off from the get-go. That had been his mistake. Letting her in, even for a
second. He should’ve said hi, been polite, but when she tried to engage him, he
should’ve pleaded a headache or something. In an effort to pretend he was over
it—over
her
—he’d attempted to play it cool, as if it were no big deal.
And now, in under five minutes, he was back on this crazy, nauseating roller
coaster with her as if he’d never gotten off.

Now she stared up at him with her wide blue eyes, shiny with
tears, and he was stuck. Stuck like a fucking fly in a web. They stood like
that for a long moment until a clatter broke the spell.

“My shoe,” she mumbled, bending to retrieve it. She let out
a pained gasp as she straightened.

An instinctive surge of protectiveness blasted through him.
“What’s the matter?”

She shook her head, but her features were strained. He
stepped back, letting his gaze run the length of her body. It wasn’t just her
stockings that were shredded. Her knees were a bloody mess.

“Jesus, what did you do?”

“I fell. On the way over.” Her eyes shifted away from his
for a second. “I was kind of in a hurry.”

He bit back a curse and grabbed her elbow. “Come on,” he
growled as he ushered her toward the steps of the Man Bus.

“It’s fine. I’m a big girl, Tai. I can handle a few
scrapes,” she protested.

“Yeah, well, all I need is for someone to see you leaving
here looking like that after spending time with me. I’m not about to get
arrested over you. Again.”

He regretted it almost as soon as it came out of his mouth,
but there was no taking it back. So much for pretending he’d gotten over their
twisted past.

She wrenched her arms from his hand and grabbed his
shoulder, forcing him to face her. “Tai…” Her voice was a whisper and the long
column of her elegant throat worked as she tried to get the words out. “I need
to tell you, I’m so s—”

“Don’t,” he snapped. “I’m not interested in some kumbaya
bullshit conversation where we hug it out and go our separate ways better
people for it. What’s done is done. No harm no foul. I’ve got a great life now.
You always did. I’m going to get you some dry clothes and clean up those
scrapes. But then you need to head back to wherever you came from.”

He took her by the wrist and pulled her along, up the stairs
of the bus, noting with relief that it was dark inside. If he was quick about
it, he could have her fixed up and out of there before Gigi and Beau came in.

He flipped on the kitchen light and pointed to a chair. “Have
a seat.” He didn’t wait around to see if she listened. Once he’d gathered up
some first-aid supplies, he returned.

“Take off the stockings.”

She nodded and he turned his back to wait. The rustle of her
skirt was as loud as cannon fire. The whispery slide of silk, a twenty-one-gun
salute. He counted koi in his head. Four orange. Three red. The peach were his
favorite.

“Done.”

He faced her again, still visualizing the koi in his pond
back home. “Just your knees?”

She nodded. “They got the brunt of it. My hands a little,
but no blood.”

He set down his supplies on the granite island and popped a
squat in front of her. Even in their current state, her legs were spectacular.
Leanly muscled, long and sleek for such a petite woman, they were so elegant
the streaks of dirt seemed like an insult.

He took a trim ankle in hand and forced himself to focus on
the scrapes. “Hand me the washcloth.” She did, their fingers brushing as he
took it.

Ignoring the sizzle that snaked up his arm, he methodically
began to clean her wounds.

“I really appreciate this. I know you’re busy and this is
probably the last thing you want to be doing after a show.”

He could feel the weight of her gaze pressing on him but he
refused to rise to the bait. She was abso-fucking-lutely right. Short of
getting kicked in the balls, letting this woman twist him in knots again was
just about the last thing he wanted to be doing. Why should he pretend
otherwise?

She cleared her throat and made another attempt at small
talk. “So when did you get started with the band? You guys are really
fantastic.”

“They’ve been around a while. I joined last year.” He dabbed
some antibiotic cream on the scrape and she gasped. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault. I was the idiot running in heels.”

Again, he stayed quiet. No point in encouraging more
conversation. Instead he made a show of sitting back on his heels to examine
his handiwork. “Couple gauze pads and you’ll be good to go. I’ll give you some
clothes so you don’t have to go home in these wet ones.”

He motioned to her skirt, which had ridden up high on her
thighs, and sucked in a breath. Time to get some space. He handed her the
bandage makings. “Why don’t you do that while I find you something to wear?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, hightailing it to the bedroom.
He’d just started pawing around in his dresser for some clothes that might not
fall right off her when muffled female voices interrupted his wayward thoughts.

Gigi was home.
Damn it.
This whole thing was getting
more complicated by the minute. Leave it to Christa to bring a storm of shit
with her when she came. Now he was going to have to play twenty questions.
Hell, if he didn’t hurry, it might be fifty questions.

He let out a resigned sigh, grabbing a hoodie and a pair of
gym pants. The women’s chatter echoed down the hall as he headed back to the
kitchen.

“Hey, Gi.”

“Hey, yourself,” she said with a grin, eyeing them with
frank curiosity. In the past year, he’d invited exactly one woman to the Man
Bus before now and that had been his mom. Gigi was practically salivating at
the opportunity to start the inquisition.

She gave him one more long, speculative look, then patted
the countertop, stepping back. “Well, it was a real pleasure talking with you,
Christa. I hope your knees heal up nicely.”

“Likewise. And thanks.”

Christa smiled in return, a genuine smile that lit her whole
face up. He was captured. His gaze snagged hers and the warmth in her eyes
changed to heat. Feminine awareness. Flat-out desire. His cock bucked hard
beneath his jeans. As bad as it had ended, there was no denying that one thing
between them had been so fucking good.

“Here,” he scraped out past his suddenly bone-dry throat,
thrusting the clothes at her and stepping back as if she were contagious.

He turned, realizing that sometime, in that heated moment,
Gigi had left the room and he hadn’t even noticed.

“Tai, I—”

“The bathroom’s at the end of the hall,” he cut in.

Her face fell as she took the bundle her offered. “Thanks.”

A moment later the door clicked shut behind her and he
pinched his eyes closed. Unasked questions throbbed in his throat.
Why now?
Where the fuck were you when I needed you?
If he didn’t get her out of here
fast, they’d surely choke him.

He’d finally managed to get the raging hard-on, if
not the raging emotions, under control when she stepped out of the bathroom.
One look at her and he bit back a groan. Her hair had almost completely dried
and hung around her face in soft, loose curls. His sweatshirt swamped her,
coming down to her knees. She’d washed any remnants of makeup from her face and
her cheeks were scrubbed pink. She was as adorable as she had been all those
years ago. He tore his gaze away, reminding himself, yet again, that looks were
deceiving. She was his spiritual assassin and he would do well to remember it.

“What a relief. I feel human again,” she said,
giving him a tentative smile.

“Great.” He kept his tone clipped and his eyes on the wall
over her shoulder. “Well, I’ve got to get an early start tomorrow. It was…good
seeing you.”

He herded her like a Border Collie with a lamb toward the
door. “There’s a cab stand right in front of the venue, so you won’t have a
problem getting back to the hotel. And don’t worry about the clothes, no need
to return them.” He injected a note of finality into his voice. “Goodbye,
Christa.”

She may not have gotten the closure she had hoped for, but
he wanted to make one thing very clear. Their association was over.

She turned, leveling him with eyes so blue they’d made a
summer sky look dreary. “Thanks for taking care of me. You were always so good
at that. I’m sorry I wasn’t as good at taking care of you. But just so you
know,” her lips trembled and her voice grew thick. “I never stopped loving you,
Tai.”

She rushed down the steps and stood by the door. “Goodbye.”

His stomach clenched as he stood staring after her, a riot
of emotions threatening to suck him under. Her “goodbye” had sounded almost as
final as his. Yes, he’d almost certainly seen the last of Christa Reilly.

He stood, staring at the closed door for a long while,
waiting for a sense of relief that never came. Fighting the urge to look out
the window to see if she was still out there, he made his way to the kitchen.

“So that’s the one, huh?”

Tai swallowed a sigh and opened the fridge, more to buy
himself a few seconds before he had to face Gigi than because he was hungry. He
peered in and snagged an apple. “The one what?” he asked wearily as he closed
the door.

“The girl who tore your heart out whole, and you wished
she’d broken it because then you’d still have a piece left. I saw you looking
at her during the show. Then I watched her through the window when she left
here. Crying,” Gigi said, her dark eyes wide with concern.

The year before, when she and Beau had first gotten together
and were having some problems, he’d told her about Christa. Not everything, but
a little, just to give her some perspective in hopes of getting her and Beau
back together. He’d never dreamed the two women would ever meet, or that he’d
live to regret mentioning it. “Wow, you remembered what I said about her.
Verbatim, no less. Damn, you have a good memory.” He sat down on the kitchen
stool across from her and leaned on the granite island between them.

She nodded. “Total recall. Beau hates it. Especially when we
argue.”

“Which isn’t often, from what I can tell. In fact, judging
by all the noise coming through the walls, you guys are getting along like
gangbusters.” He attempted a smile, but she wasn’t falling for it.

“Don’t bother trying to change the subject. I’m like a
bloodhound, and you’re my prey. Spill,” she demanded, then plopped down on the
couch, staring up at him expectantly.

This was exactly what he’d hoped to avoid. “Doesn’t Beau
need you to, I don’t know, carry his fiddle or massage his ego or something?”

“Nope. The last thing that man needs is an ego massage,” she
said with a roll of her eyes. “Besides, he, Rex and Quinn were going to hang
out at the club to sign some autographs. I didn’t want to be in the way.”

His brows rose pointedly.

“Oh nice,” she said with an indignant snort. “The only thing
I’m in the way of here is your denial. Obviously you still have feelings for
that woman or you wouldn’t look like you’ve just been sucker punched.”

One thing was for sure. She wasn’t going to leave him alone
until he caved. Still, he hesitated. It was something he’d spent the better
part of the last ten years struggling to forget.

Gigi crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine. Have it your
way. Hold it all inside so it keeps festering. But I’m not cooking for you
until you tell me.”

Ouch. She was pulling out the big guns now. A year earlier,
when Quinn was pregnant, she’d hired Gigi to be the band’s personal chef so she
could eat healthy on the road. They’d all gotten used to it and decided to keep
her on—Beau in more ways than one. He and Gigi were getting married in a few
months. Needless to say, it would suck living on a bus with her, smelling all
those delicious dinners every night and not be able to have any. Besides, the
past was the past, and what better way to prove he didn’t give a rat’s ass
about Christa anymore than to excise this old wound? He settled on the
Reader’s
Digest
version, making sure he kept his voice low and even.

“We were close friends in high school. One night, we were
even more than that. She was dating this guy, Pierce Ridell. Real asshole.
Anyway, we ended up in a fight over her. He was rich, white and lost the fight.
I wasn’t, and didn’t. One of us ended up in jail.”

“Wait, you went to jail for a high-school brawl?” Her brow
furrowed and she shook her head. “That seems a little excessive, don’t you
think? There used to be a fight every week at my school. No one got arrested
for it.”

“Yeah, well, this wasn’t during school hours and the judge
didn’t view it as a fight. I was charged with assault. With a deadly weapon. I
was convicted, and the two of them got back together. She never came to see me,
never sent a letter. Nada.” He avoided her penetrating gaze and crunched a big
bite from his apple. His churning stomach bucked in protest as he swallowed. It
was a long time before Gigi spoke again.

“I’m turning it over every which way, and there’s got to be
more to the story. Was it self-defense? I know you, Tai. You wouldn’t just
attack someone unprovoked. You’re so disciplined. I just can’t see it. And with
a weapon, no less?”

Her confidence in his honor humbled him. She was such a good
person. If he’d been smart enough to fall for a woman even half as good as
Gigi, the whole tragic incident could’ve been avoided. But he hadn’t. Instead,
he’d given his heart to Christa and spent the rest of his life regretting it.

Reaching for Gigi, he squeezed her hand. “Give me a couple
of days to get my bearings. Then we’ll talk about it.”

“Tai?”

“We will, I promise. Just me and you. I’ll tell you the
whole story, okay? We’ll go out to Barney’s when we get to Memphis and get some
of those ribs you love.”