Page 84 of Rumor Has It

Chapter Thirty-three

CASSIDY

If it weren’t for his bunk outside of the bedroom, I’d call Isaiah presumptuous for thinking we’d share a bed.

Or perhaps because I let him draw me in for a slow kiss, I wouldn’t.

With my eyes closed, I can hear Aria’s adorableMmm, mmm, mmm-ing. I’m unconscious that I’m repeating the sound as Isaiah’s lips slide over mine, tasting with soft nips. My core heats, though there’s not a damn thing lascivious about the kiss. The baby snuggles into the embrace with contentment. We’re able to move her from his hip to mine despite the lip-lock.

I’ve understood the role I’m here to play. It’s an easy one because these two mean everything to me. I won’t correct anyone’s assumption I’m Aria’s mother. Isaiah and I won’t hide our relationship. He’s set up the tour bus as a safe place for all of us. A home away from home for this little girl to ensure a sense of normalcy for her.

I thought I couldn’t love the pictures on the walls more than when I saw the proofs, but I do. We feel real.

In spite of Isaiah worrying he couldn’t have either me or the baby because neither of us were truly his, I know what we are is real to him, too.

My angst over Isaiah taking the squat bunk outside the motor coach bedroom ebbs away.

It sounds silly to admit, but for the first time I don’t feel young or naïve or like I’m waiting on the precipice of something that hasn’t quite begun. I’m in the thick of it, falling for a man who women all over the country swoon over.

I bet they wonder how good he is in bed. I bet they wonder if he’s a romantic. I look at the flickering candles and the picture of us and my heart swells in answer.

Instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop—for Isaiah to walk away, the way I had been the week between Christmas and New Year’s—there are a million possibilities for tomorrow. Every one of them I can’t wait to experience.

Strange for a homebody, isn’t it?

Although I have taken actual vacations on planes before, today is more like day one of an extended trip than anything else. Maybe what brings me the most peace is Isaiah’s vow to return me to Kingsbrier. With nary a mention of Nashville, he sounds as if he plans to join me.

A throat clears in the tight hallway.

“Sorry to interrupt, Boss.” Monty tosses a thumb over his shoulder. “Vespa set up shop in the arena’s hospitality room. She sent me to make sure everything was good here.”

“Vespa’s not using the desk out there?” I ask.

“Nah,that’s for us,” Isaiah replies.

My cheeks tingle. Admitting I’m ridiculously ready for a break from Isaiah’s assistant feels wrong, though my face must show my relief.

Monty makes fun of me for smiling. “Happy you and Vespa won’t be breathing the same air twenty-four-seven for the next few months, Miss Cavanaugh?” He gestures to Aria. “I can take lil’ miss for a walk if you’d like.”

I watch Aria rub her eyes. “She hasn’t napped yet.”

“Neither has Isaiah, and he’s got a sound check before the curtain goes up. You look bushed from flying, too. Lemme have Dillon get her carriage from storage underneath the bus and I’ll take the baby for a stroll. She’ll conk right out.”

“Knowing you, she sure will.” Isaiah takes Aria from me.

She gladly goes to Monty. We hear him baby-talking to her all the way down the hall and then his voice disappears.

“Well, Monty timed it perfectly, didn’t he?”

“He did.” Isaiah grins.

I pat his chest. “Now, you can rest. While you’re in bed, I’ll check what’s in the fridge to whip you up a mea—”

Isaiah kicks the door closed.

I blink.

His cheeks bunch, the grin taking on a cocky flair.

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