Page 67 of Tortured Tones

I slumped against my pillow. I needed more sleep. My whole body felt like it’d been pummeled by a pack of stampeding elephants. “Go back to bed for an hour, then I will.”

“No Mr. Sleepyhead.” She tugged on the front of my T-shirt. “Get up.”

“Alright. Alright.” I rolled onto my back and blinked my eyes open. I wiped the tiredness from my face. “Are you always this demanding?”

Charlotte just grinned and nodded.

I tossed the covers off my waist and sat upright. She crawled across the bed and wound her tiny arms around my neck. “Piggyback ride.”

Fuck. Too cute. But I was sure she’d be the death of me.

Chapter 16

AVA

Damn you, Cole Tanner.

I stood on guard, off to one side of Gabrielle’s Boutique as the guys did their final fittings for the events they had on over the coming week. Having four men strip, prance around in their underwear, show off their ripped bodies, then re-dress and strut around in front of huge mirrors in designer suits wasn’t a bad task for a Monday morning.

My other team members were on duty too, dispersed in or outside the shop. But I couldn’t take my eyes off Cole.

One man should not look that good in a three-piece.

My palms sweat. My core clenched. My body overheated in my formal uniform. Ever since Thursday night, after helping him with Charlotte, the way Cole looked at me had messed with my mind. Conflicting emotions stirred through my system. Why couldn’t he be the simple asshole I’d first met?

I’d never expected him to be such a contradiction. He portrayed confidence, worked hard, and cared about his family and friends. He never complained. But despite his incredible success and uncanny talent, underneath his shiny exterior was someone who suffered from major worry and self-doubt. He pushed himself to the limit to be fit for the tour. He played through their set list over and over to make it better when it had already been flawless. He was concerned he wasn’t good enough to take care of Charlotte. If he just stopped and took a moment, he would see that he was amazing at those things. I understood drive, but his constant need to do more and be better was taking its toll. He’d lost weight and was frequently tired, but he wouldn’t take a break.

After this fitting, the band had a rehearsal, a launch party tomorrow night, and a couple of days off to rest. I prayed Cole did that. I wouldn’t be around to check. I had the next two days rostered off and time with Josh.

Kennedy would be covering Cole. I’d have a word with him before handover tomorrow to monitor Cole’s activities. If Cole so much as went out to buy a bottle of milk rather than rest, I’d have to talk to Blake. I didn’t want Cole to burn out before the tour started. But for now, I didn’t mind keeping a close eye on him.

And I had to remember Cole was a smooth and sultry charmer.

He peeled off shirt number four and stripped down to his boxer briefs. Catching my gaze in the mirror, he raised an eyebrow. The sexy glint in those green eyes was dangerous.

Too much heat flushed my cheeks.

“You okay, Ava?” Beckett’s voice chuckled low in my earpiece; our radios were on hands-free.

I kept my poker face in place as I glared at him standing across from me in front of the jewelry display cabinet. “You know I am.”

“Did I miss something?” Sloane, on duty outside the front door with Wyatt, joined the conversation.

“Sloane, you didn’t miss anything.” I said, watching Cole slip on a new pair of suit pants. Oh. Yes, he was.

Wyatt glanced over his shoulder, peering through the glass door. “I’ll trade places with you, Ava. I’m sure the scenery in there is better than out here.”

“Sucks to be you.” I clasped my hands in front me, trying to contain my smile. “But I stand corrected. You are missing out on a nice show.”

My cell phone rang. Shit! Who was calling? Wells? Our surveillance team? Had they tracked down the person loitering around Cole’s house?

The Mercedes had returned once over the weekend, but no one had gotten out of the car. No one had walked past Cole’s house. I’d come across crazed fans before, but this was a whole new level of weird.

I grabbed my cell phone. The color drained from my face. Luther’s name lit the screen. Fuck! Random calls from him were never good.

“Guys. I gotta take a call. Wyatt, let’s swap.” I headed for the door, switched my hands-free comms off, and answered my cell phone. “Hey Luther, I’m here. Hold one sec. I’m just stepping outside.”

“Hurry up. I don’t have all day.”

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