Page 98 of How to Catch a Rockstar

Aurora

Jett snatches the phone from me. “You’re done.”

I hold out my hand. “Give it back to me. I was in the middle of an email. A very important email.”

He shoves the phone into his pocket. “It’s New Year’s Eve. It can wait. You’re not working anymore.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s six o’clock in the evening. It’s not ‘New Year’s Eve’ for hours.”

“We’re having dinner with the band at the brewery.”

This is news to me. No one told me about a get together. Although, I haven’t checked my private messages all day.

“At six?”

“Dylan wants Virginia to be home at a reasonable time.”

Dylan the overprotector strikes again. “And you?” I raise my eyebrows. “You didn’t jump on the bandwagon to make sure I wasn’t out late partying on New Year’s Eve.”

Jett palms my neck. “You can party all you want, baby. But it’ll be in our bed.”

Heat rushes through my body and my panties dampen. “We can skip dinner.”

“Tempting but no.”

“Why not?” I pout.

He kisses my nose. “You’ve been cooped up in this house for days. If I don’t force you outside, your ass will be glued to your chair. You need to get out.”

“Have you seen outside? There’s snow and it’s cold.”

I’m not exaggerating. The weather here is not anything like San Diego where the last snowfall happened more than a decade before my birth.

“Good thing someone has some warm clothes to wear.”

Because our ‘little trip’ to pick up ‘some’ maternity clothes ended up with Jett buying me the entire store. I wish I was kidding. My bedroom, which I’m no longer allowed to sleep in, has become a closet for all my clothes.

“What about Bowie? We can’t leave her alone.”

“Nice try. She’s staying with Fender and Leia’s dog.”

“Fine. I’ll go change.”

Jett helps me to stand and leads me to the stairs.

“I can climb the stairs on my own.”

“I know. I’m being a gentleman is all.”

I snort. “Jett Peterson is no gentleman.”

“People can change.”

I hope so since I’m banking on Jett changing into the type of man who can fall in love with a woman. This woman in particular. Otherwise, my heart is toast.

Thirty minutes later I’ve changed into a sweater dress and am ready to go. When I walk down the stairs, Jett whistles.

“Damn, baby. You clean up good.”

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