Making a great show of straightening the pillows on the sofa, he was unprepared when Kimber tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to her, and she smacked him across the face. Hard.
“If all this vile shit you’re saying is the truth, then you’re a first-class asshole and I wish I hadn’t come here in the first place. If you’re saying it so you can leave your precious scarred heart wrapped in ice, then not only are you an asshole, you’re a coward. Unless you get over the past, you’ll be alone for the rest of your life, because Luc will someday meet a great girl, get married, and leave you to rot alone.
Enjoy your misery; it’s well deserved.”
She spun and stormed away. Victory. And yet he’d never felt more wretched.
“Kimber…” Luc called after her departing figure, auburn hair curling around her back. “Sweetheart!”
She didn’t hesitate, much less stop. Instead, Kimber just marched out of the room, across the house to Luc’s room, then slammed the door.
Deke flinched at the angry sound of the door reverberating, shattering the tense quiet.
“You stupid son of a bitch,” Luc snarled. “I hope you’re happy.”
“No,” he said heavily. “But it’s for the best.”
“For who? Not me!” He pointed at his chest. “She was the best thing that happened to us, and you fucked it up. Why? Because you wanted her, and you wouldn’t take a chance that she wasn’t like Heather. She’s right; you’re a coward.” Luc tore out of the room, his heavy footsteps tracking toward his room and Kimber.
Deke hung his head. He was a coward. And he hated it.
He’d taken missions all over the world, assassinating power hungry generals in third-world shit holes, extracting hostages from fanatical terrorists, diffusing bombs ticking away their last ten seconds.
Kimber frightened him much more.
“No, sweetheart. Please. Unpack and stay.” He heard Luc’s pleading words.
“Deke’s just being an ass. Stay with me. I want you. I’ll—”
“Luc, it won’t work. I—I need to go…”
The tears in her voice were shredding Deke’s guts when he heard her lift her car keys out of the dish in the foyer and open the front door. He walked to the corner and peeked around.
“Don’t leave.” Luc tried to soothe her with a soft touch.
“Tell me why he does this.” She swiped at the tears on her cheek. “Why he tries so hard to push me away? What’s eating at him?”
Deke tensed. Goddamnit, he wouldn’t put it past Luc to spill all his secrets to soothe Kimber and make her stay. And then she’d see him for the monster he was…
“That’s Deke’s secret to tell,” Luc said reluctantly.
“Then I can’t stay.” She marched for the door.
Luc grabbed her arm. “Don’t go. Please. Ignore him. Stay with me.”
“Deke doesn’t want me here. He made that obvious from the start, and I shouldn’t have barged in. Lesson learned.” Kimber caressed his arm, stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for all you’ve done. I think I know enough to please Jesse, and that was the point.”
“He’s a pop star with a transient life and a wild reputation. You’re a settle-down kind of girl who deserves a stable home and love. I care about you and I want to—” Kimber kissed his words away, softly. Deke could almost taste her regret and pain as he watched. Then she drew in a teary, shaking breath. “Luc, I’ve got to go. I care about you, too, but I can’t be here with him. It hurts too much.” Oh, shit.
She opened the door and turned back. Deke’s gaze connected with hers, and it felt like a battering ram crushing his chest. His cheek burned where she’d slapped him, and he knew that would be the last place she ever touched him. Hell, he was going to implode from the pain. He hurt so fucking bad.
Kimber didn’t say a word. She just shook her head, stepped out, and slammed the door behind her. His knees nearly crumpled. Deke turned and braced himself against the wall, closing his eyes against this hell.
Luc cursed softly, an ugly string of words Deke doubted his cousin had ever uttered in his life. He was in major trouble, no doubt. Luc had every right to be pissed. Kimber had every right to hate him. She couldn’t hate him anymore than he hated himself right now.
CHAPTER 8
Kimber smoothed down a ripple in her jeans, flipped her hair over her shoulder, then knocked on the door.
Nearly five years. That’s how long it had been since she’d actually seen Jesse McCall in the flesh. She’d seen dozens of pictures. They’d talked on the phone, written countless e-mails. They’d shared parts of themselves over the years—what it had been like for her to grow up without feminine influence after her mother’s death, what it had been like for him to be thrust into sudden stardom. Her difficult classes. His demanding schedule. Her wishes. His dreams.
She’d planned for months to be with him so they could share all that together in person finally, maybe for the rest of their lives.
Now, she’d come here with mixed feelings, no longer certain what her future held. She’d wanted to be with him for so long. But Deke, his anguish and need, his hunger and denial, haunted her. Kimber’s stomach twisted with pain. She pushed it down, hoping to achieve the numbness that had blanketed her for the past forty-eight hours.
Clear the mind. Deep breath. A little calm, but will it ever be enough?
For days after she’d left East Texas, Kimber had hoped that Deke would call and apologize, beg her to come back, tell her he was sorry for humiliating her. God, the hours of tears she’d cried…
Jesse had been the last thing on her mind.
From Deke, there’d been silence. Utter, hellish silence. Luc had called to check on her, and attempt to cajole her into returning. He’d even pleaded. But Deke wasn’t going to beg her to come back. According to him, he had a stiff dick for her, nothing more. Kimber didn’t believe it. She’d gotten too close to him emotionally; Deke had shed her in an attempt to protect her from something she didn’t understand. But he was also protecting himself.
After he’d thrown the offer of her virginity back in her face and all but announced he was tossing her over for a stripper was a hell of a time to realize that she loved him.
She shoved the thought and the chest-crushing pain aside as footsteps approached the door. She took a deep breath. The blessed numbness began to return.
Deke expected her to move on. So here Kimber was, at Jesse’s door, determined to follow through with her plan. She still adored Luc, but she had to get over Deke and carve out a future.
What else could she do?
The hotel room door opened. A stranger with a boyish smile stood in the doorway. Wavy brown hair. Blue eyes. He would have been white bread and apple pie—except for the big tattoo of a skull and crossbones on his biceps, his black eyeliner, and the bullring through his nose.
“Hi, I’m here to see Jesse.”
He stuck out his hand, pale and artistic. “You must be Kimber. I’m Ryan. I do backup vocals and write songs.”
She took his hand, shook it. “Oh, yes. He’s mentioned you many times. Nice to meet you.”
Ryan’s gaze roamed over her with subtle appreciation. “You, too. He said you were a gorgeous girl, but he was wrong. You’re a gorgeous woman, and he’s going to be surprised.”
Sending him a nervous smile, Kimber looked around the room. A suite. A very nice one in tasteful taupes and creams—and a view of Houston’s skyline that went on forever.
“Thank you. Is Jesse here?”
“Just getting out of the shower. He asked me to greet you since he got out of rehearsals a bit late and had to take an unexpected radio interview.” Ryan shrugged narrow shoulders. “Goes with the territory.”
“I’m sure.”
Kimber tried not to be let down, tried not to fidget. Surely, Jesse would have greeted her personally if he could. Still, she’d waited five years and she really, really needed a friend. Couldn’t those people wait ten minutes?
“Have a seat,” Ryan invited. “Drink?”
He pointed to the half-empty minibar. Lots of little bottles missing. The soda shelf was mostly full.
She shook her head as she sank onto the empty chocolate brown sofa. For a moment, she was tempted to lose herself to whiskey oblivion, but she’d tried last week and endured the hangover from hell. “No thanks.” Ryan sat beside her. “Jesse has talked so much about you, I feel like I know you.
He always brags about how kind you are. How sweet.” Kimber frowned. She wasn’t a saint. Look at the things she’d done with Luc and Deke. And in retrospect, she hadn’t done them strictly to learn for Jesse. Or to see if she could handle a ménage. Once she’d identified her lack-of-experience problem and realized Deke was a solution, she’d jumped—hell, leaped, hopped, and skipped—at the chance to see him. To satisfy a dark fascination she’d had for the hard soldier since she was old enough to understand and too young to indulge.
“Jesse may have exaggerated my goodness.”
“Him? Nah. He’s as jaded as they come. He never gives praise unless it’s due.
Trust me.”
“I see.” But she didn’t. Not really.
The Jesse she’d connected with that special summer had been optimistic and eager for the future. True, in the last few years, he’d seemed…a little more skeptical about people. Less trusting. But didn’t that come with stardom? Having to protect your identity and privacy? All that crap would affect anyone’s outlook, she supposed.
“It’s great to meet one of Jesse’s friends. I know you two are pretty close,” she offered, fishing for information to discover exactly what role Ryan played in Jesse’s life.
“He probably told you; I’ve been a member of the band for the last three years.” He leaned in, gave her a direct stare. “We do everything together.” Including have sex. So he was the third in Jesse’s ménages. Ryan’s pale blue eyes communicated the gravity of the information without saying a word. As far as he and Jesse knew, Kimber had no notion about their kink, but she understood the other man’s message. And his stare made it clear that he expected to jump in on the action.
The thought was unsettling. Would Jesse want her to have sex with this person she barely knew and wasn’t sure she liked?
The thought made her grimace. Wasn’t she different to Jesse than other women?
More special? He’d always said so…
But that wasn’t her problem. Deke and Luc— they were the issue. They haunted her. Yes, spending time with them had shown her firsthand how arousing ménage could be. Kimber was sure that Jesse craved the excitement, the forbidden thrill.
Lord knew, after those few days with the cousins, she more than understood. But now, the thought of anyone else touching her made her queasy.
When Ryan looked her over, she recoiled and nearly lost her lunch. Run! a part of her screamed.
Ever practical, her mind pointed out that she had no future with Luc and Deke.
She had to move forward, and she’d planned for years to be with Jesse. She had to follow through, to see where their years-long rapport might lead. Maybe her first love could help her recover from her last mistake.
“I understand what you’re saying,” she murmured.
Ryan’s smile faded, removing the boyish quality. One brown brow quirked up.
“Do you?”
“Jesse may have last seen me as a seventeen-year-old girl, but while I’ve retained a certain amount of innocence, I can assure you I’ve grown up.”
“Beautifully so, I’d say,” boomed a voice from behind her.
Kimber whipped her gaze around. Jesse?
He looked so much the same from a distance. Tall, shaggy brown hair liberally laced with sun-streaked gold, olive complexion, dark eyes, and a smoking hot bod, as evidenced by his tight black T-shirt and jeans. Jesse.
She jumped up from the sofa at the same time he moved toward her. When he grabbed her in a big hug, wrapping lean, strong arms around her, she sank against him—just like she had that summer they spent together. Her head didn’t fit exactly under his chin anymore, but he kissed her lips tenderly, as he always had.
Kimber waited, but… Where was that shiver his kiss had always given her? The smile he flashed her didn’t look complete.
Maybe he was just tired. And distracted. Lord knew, she’d been completely preoccupied after leaving Deke and Luc. And it had been five years since she’d seen Jesse. Things changed. People changed. She’d learn his new ways. She and Jesse would reconnect.
Holding out hope that Deke would call and apologize and ask her to come back was plain stupid.
“Wow!” He stood back, holding her at arm’s length, and stared. “You look great.”
“You, too.”