Page 116 of How to Love a Rockstar

Indigo’s eyes widen. “I’m silly? You’re silly.” She tickles Isla and my daughter bats her away.

“There she is. The princess of the party,” Jett says as he and Gibson join us.

“What do you think of my dress?” Isla twirls around showing off her summer dress.

“It’s adorable,” Gibson says.

Indigo leans close to whisper to me, “I didn’t know Gibson knew the word adorable.”

“Shush you. The guys are great with Isla.” Which is going to make it difficult when they leave. And they will be leaving soon considering the album they’ve been recording is now finished. Cash and Dylan announced it on some entertainment news show the other night.

“Fender!” Isla shouts and runs after him.

“What does the big guy have that we don’t?” Gibson pouts.

Arms strong enough to lift me up? Shoulders broad enough for me to cry on? A beard I want to dig my fingers into? A chest I want to lick until my mouth goes dry?

Indigo touches the corner of my mouth. “You’re drooling.”

I snap my mouth shut. “I am not drooling.”

She grins. “Yes, you are. This is fun.”

I glare at her. “This is not fun. My daughter is growing attached to a man who’s leaving town soon.”

“What if he doesn’t leave town?”

I roll my eyes. “Of course, he’s leaving town. The band is done recording.”

She shrugs. “Cash isn’t going anywhere.” She points to the house. “And Dylan isn’t going anywhere now either.”

Because they’ve found the women they love here in Winter Falls. Fender is not interested in finding a woman. His stay away vibes are impossible to miss.

I watch as Fender picks Isla up and twirls her around. He smiles and his dimples make an appearance. His grumpy appearance fades away and a man who looks able to rock your world with a crook of his finger appears.

My daughter motions for me to join them but before I can, my phone rings withThe Imperial March. I groan.

“Can you watch Isla?”

At Indigo’s nod, I make my way to the corner of the yard where I can hold a private conversation.

“What’s up, boss man?”

Brody responds but I’m not paying attention. How can I when Fender is prowling toward me with his grumpy face?

“Are you listening to me?”

Oops! “Send me an email and I’ll get to work on it when I get home.”

I hang up as Fender arrives.

“This is a party,” he growls.

I gasp. “No? Really? I wouldn’t have realized. What with all the people milling around eating and drinking and being merry.”

“If you know it’s a party, why are you working?”

“I’m not working.”

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