He kissed her nose and smiled. “Like a compromise.”
“I’l try to be better about finding middle ground.”
“And I’l try to be more patient.”
“That biblical Job guy ain’t got nothing on you, sweetie.” She stroked his hair from his cheek. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”
“I think you do,” he said, “but I’ve been forbidden to say it.”
Her heart thrummed in her chest and she covered his lips with her fingertips before he let that blasted l-word slip. A hard, warm body plastered itself to Myrna’s back. She stiffened and held her breath. They weren’t alone? Within seconds, the man had splayed his hand over her bel y, intertwined his bare legs with hers and buried his face in her neck. Brian chuckled. “Mr. Cuddles strikes again.”
“Soft,” Trey murmured in her ear. He snuggled closer.
Just Trey. She emitted her held breath and relaxed. Trey snuggled closer stil .
“Don’t let him smother you,” Brian advised.
“I don’t think I can move.”
“Shhhh,” Trey murmured, his nose pressed behind her ear. “Sleeping.”
Brian chuckled and shook his head. “You might as wel go back to sleep. He won’t move for a while.”
Myrna wasn’t sure how anyone could be expected to sleep when sandwiched between two sexy guitarists.
Chapter 29
Why was she so nervous? They were just parents. Yes, one of them was Malcolm O’Neil, but that shouldn’t make her tummy flutter or her palms sweat.
“Are you okay?” Brian asked.
“Fine,” she squeaked.
“Don’t be nervous. They’l love you.”
The mood backstage was more sedate than usual, with scarcely a scantily clad woman to be found. Brian opened the dressing room door and ushered Myrna inside. The instant Brian stepped into the room, a stunning woman grabbed him in a crushing hug and kissed him square on the mouth.
“Excuse me,” Myrna said crossly.
“Mom,” Brian gasped. “Can’t breathe.”
“I don’t see you for two months and you greet me with ‘can’t breathe’?”
He gave his mom a hug that lifted her feet off the ground. She laughed.
“Put your mother down,” a deep voice said behind Myrna.
She turned and looked up at Malcolm O’Neil. Her heart did a somersault in her chest. She’d been afraid of this. She gaped up at him like a fish out of water—her throat trying to produce sounds, her mouth opening and closing sporadical y. Brian’s arm slid around Myrna’s shoulders reassuringly.
“Wel , this is her,” Brian said. “This is Myrna.”
“She looks normal,” Malcolm said suspiciously. He looked normal, too, which surprised Myrna for some reason. Shouldn’t rock legends glow with greatness?
“Don’t mind him,” Brian’s mom said. “He’s forgotten his manners. I’m Claire Sinclair. Yes, you can laugh. I didn’t realize how stupid my name would be when I agreed to marry Malcolm. I had no idea his last name wasn’t O’Neil until I saw his real name on the marriage license.”
“You never asked,” Malcolm said.
Myrna didn’t dare laugh at Claire’s name. The woman intimidated the hel out of her. She had supermodel looks and a star quality that threw Midwestern-farm-girl Myrna for a loop. Claire had to be close to fifty and she looked spectacular. Not a single wrinkle marred her perfect skin, nor was there a gray hair to be found in her silky, brown hair. If Myrna had met her on the street, she’d have thought her thirty-five. Tops. It seemed biological y impossible for her to be Brian’s mother. He had her high, sculpted cheekbones, but they looked more like siblings than mother and son.
“Are you adopted?” Myrna sputtered at Brian.
His eyebrows drew together. “Huh?”
“I don’t mean that as an insult.” Yeah, great thing to say the first time you meet your boyfriend’s mother. “I mean, you look amazing, Mrs. Sinclair. It seems impossible that you’d have a twenty-eight year-old son.”
Mrs. Sinclair beamed. “You’re a dear for saying so.” She took Myrna’s elbow and drew her away from her husband and son.
“Please, cal me Claire. Now, tel me al about yourself. Brian says you’re a doctor.”
“Wel , not a physician. A professor.”
“Yes, he told me as much, but he won’t tel me what your degree is in. I’m dying to know.”
What little respect she’d garnered by being a doctor was about to be thrown to the wayside. “I… er… wel … the thing is…”
Brian appeared at her elbow. “I’ve got to go get ready for the show. Sorry to abandon you. I’l take you both to a late dinner or something. Dad, too.”
Myrna used her eyes to plead with him to rescue her, but he just smiled at her, obviously pleased that she got along with his mother.
“We’l be fine, dear,” Claire said. “Break a leg or whatever I’m supposed to say to wish you luck.”
Myrna watched Brian head for the shower room, longing to fol ow him. And not because he was about to get naked.
“Wel , Myrna?” Claire continued. “Are you going to tel me? What’s your degree in?”
Eric magical y appeared at Myrna’s side. Either that or she had been too distracted to notice his approach. “She’s a certified human sexuality professor.”
Claire laughed. “Wel , that would explain Brian’s fascination with her.”
Ouch.
“So you’re like Doctor Ruth. Only younger, tal er, and more attractive,” Claire said.
“No, Doctor Ruth is a Sex Psychiatrist,” Myrna clarified. “I don’t treat people for sexual dysfunction.”
“Wel , that’s a relief,” Malcolm said behind her, his booming voice making her jump. “I thought maybe my boy had some problems he didn’t see fit to share.”
“No, no problems.” Myrna’s face flamed.
“And trust her, she would know,” Eric said.
He laughed. Claire laughed. Malcolm laughed. But Myrna didn’t laugh. She was too busy looking for a rock to crawl under.
“Doctor Myrna’s on tour with us because she’s studying the sexual behavior of our groupies,” Eric added. Claire stopped laughing. “Ugh,” she said. “Groupies. How do you stand them?” She wrapped an arm around her husband’s waist and looked up at him. “I hated your groupies.”