Page 11 of Wine & Whiskey
“Which is?”
“I don’t play an instrument or write my own music. I’m just lucky to have been blessed with a good voice and happened to be at the right place at the right time.”
Her skin tingles where he strokes her finger before gently pushing it down. “You don’t have to be modest. You wouldn’t be famous if you didn’t have something special.”
“Only luck. Otherwise, I’d be walking the dogs.”
Before he can respond, his phone buzzes. Unlike at the restaurant, he ignores it, focusing all his attention on her. A rare feeling to have someone’s genuine interest rather than the fawning and head patting she receives from Team Shae. “I doubt that.”
She winks before nodding at the vibrations rustling the cushion between them. “I think someone’s trying to get a hold of you.”
The door opens and a tall man with close-cropped black hair walks out. His muscles bulge even through the white dress shirt and black suit coat. Yet his gentle eyes and the small smile he gives her soften the tough-guy physique. He gestures to Nick. “I’m sorry to bother you, but we have a situation. Carter’s here and needs to talk to you.”
Nick sighs and shakes his head before standing. “Tell him I’ll be right there.” Turning back to her, a deep frown darkens his expression. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She nods before taking a sip of wine and setting the glass on the side table. Two emergencies in two hours on a Sunday night. No wonder all he does is work. There’s no time for anything or anyone else. Especially not a woman he just met with a crazy life of her own. One who knows how foolish it is to let her heart absorb any more of his tender affection before she falls completely. And has to walk away.
Listening to the relaxing sounds of the crashing waves, she leans her head against the cushion. She’ll have him take her home as soon as he comes back.
* * *
Irritated by the interruption, Nick runs his fingers through his hair as he walks toward the lounge chair. He leaves her twice in one date. Not a great way to start off…whatever the hell this is. He may not know what to call it, but he sure doesn’t want to fuck it up. “I’m sorry, Shae. It’s…”
She’s curled onto her side, arms hugging herself, eyes closed. He sits the plate of cookies next to the half-full wine glass and takes the opportunity to study her. Aching to push back the strand of wavy hair that’s fallen over her face and caress her cheek, he shoves his hands into his pockets. The softness of her expression exudes a peace he envies. She’s sweet and playful, yet holds something back. Just when he thinks they’ve made a connection, timidity creeps in, creating a shield around her. Perhaps from the bastard who’s hurting her.
After picking up his glass, he sits down in the chair across from her. Her pink dress fully covers her body, from the hollow of her throat to the tops of her knees, with only her sculpted arms and lower legs visible. How can she be so modest and so sexy at the same time?
Yet, his stomach turns from what he can’t see—the damage inflicted on her creamy, soft skin. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, and her dad’s not in the picture. Who the hell could it be? He takes a long drink. Once he finds out, she won’t have to worry about him anymore.
His mind drifts to her earlier comment. God, how he would love ‘more’ with her. To taste her pink lips. To lose himself in her gentle touch. To feel her body pressed against his. Inhaling deeply, he tries to cool the heat rising in his body.
Long, dark lashes flutter against her cheeks before her eyes fly open and she gasps. His stomach knots at her panic. Resisting the urge to take her in his arms and soothe her fear, he kneels down on the floor next to the chaise. “Hey, it’s okay. You fell asleep. Everything’s okay.”
She turns to him, searching his face for reassurance. Her body relaxes when her eyes meet his, overwhelming him with the trust she places in him not to be afraid. She drops her head, tucking the wayward hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I guess I'm more tired than I realized.”
“Don’t apologize. I know you had a big night last night.” He wraps his fingers around hers and helps her up, his pulse racing when she doesn’t let go of his hand as they walk. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your car.”
In the garage, he opens the door to the Audi. “I thought this might be easier than climbing into the Jeep.”
Her face lights up with the huge smile he’s waited all night to see. “Thank you.”
She seems pleased, maybe even a little surprised, by his simple gesture. He can’t stand the thought of someone making her do anything but smile. Especially the motherfucker who’s beating her. Before she can climb in, he pushes the door shut. “Wait.” He takes a deep breath, trying to control his fury. “This is probably the wrong way to go about it, but I have to know. Who’s hurting you?”
Wrinkles crease her forehead in uncertainty. “I don’t understand.”
“The bruises on your back.” Old and new anger swells in his chest. He may have failed before, but not this time. Not with her. “Someone is hitting you, and I need to stop him.”
Shock flashes in her eyes before she shakes her head. “I wear a waist harness during my concerts for some of the stunts we do. It’s hard on my back to be suspended so much.”
No one is hurting her. The pain in his chest evaporates from knowing she's safe. “I’m sorry I overreacted.” He nods and pulls the door open. “It was killing me thinking some asshole was putting his hands on you.”
“It’s the equipment we use to put on a good show. You know, make sure the fans have fun.”
She sits down, her gaze following him as he walks to the other side of the car. An expression he can’t decipher darkens her face. His irrational behavior may have pushed her away. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, it’s okay. You just…surprised me.”
He glances over at her as he drives. Deep in thought, she stares out the window. Silence hangs between them, not quite as comfortable as before. Unsure how to reach her, he taps on the steering wheel, struggling to control his need to touch her. To keep her from slipping away before she’s even his.
