Page 11 of Wild and Bright

Heat washes through my veins at the mellifluous sound of Cam’s deep voice. He has such a beautiful speaking voice. People with beautiful singing voices usually do, but there’s something about his… It’s so deep and smooth.

I grit my teeth, inwardly refusing to let him intimidate me. After straightening my spine, I glance down at my chest. When I notice I have side-boob on my right, I adjust the triangular cloth on my left to match it. I smile before pushing open the gate and marching outside, but as soon as our eyes meet, it fades.

After so many years of seeing him mostly on social media, I’d forgotten how beautiful he is in person. His dark eyes and square jaw would make him look so forbidding if it weren’t for that plump bottom lip of his pouting mouth. I remember exactly what it felt like as he pressed those soft lips against my jaw and whispered words I’d never thought I’d hear him say.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I know he wants me—or at least, wanted me at one time—so why does his presence always make me feel this way? Why do I want to cross my arms over my chest and hide the fact that my boobs don’t quite sit where they used to now that I’ve had a baby? Why do I feel like I could never be enough for him?

At the sound of Logan’s laughter, Cam glances in the direction of the hot tub. “Can we go somewhere private?”

“No.” My tone is hard.

I refuse to let my vain insecurities make me weak. He doesn’t get to choose our battleground.

His grim expression doesn’t change, but I sense that he’s straining his eyes to keep them from rolling. “Hunter told me everything.”

I swallow, trying to squash the flutter of nervousness threatening to make my voice quaver. “Of course he did. He has nothing to hide.”

“That’s not why he told me.” He narrows his eyes. “He wanted me to talk him out of it. He knows you’re a bad influence on him. He knows he’ll be tempted to go out and party with you if you’re living in his house.”

I almost want to laugh at his assumption that I haven’t changed, as if I still do all the things I did as a teenager now that I have a four-year-old daughter. As usual, he judges me without evidence.

This is why I shouldn’t feel guilty, even if I have begun to question the assumption I made five years ago. I could never co-parent with a person who trusts me this little. It wouldn’t be good for Cadence, because who knows what he would do? He might even try to take her away from me, just like my control-freak mother.

The thought makes my throat tight. I swallow to ease it away. “That sounds like your opinion of me. Not Hunter’s.”

Though his look is still forbidding, he doesn’t deny it. How could he? I know Hunter didn’t say any of that. Hunter doesn’t have the slightest worry that I’d jeopardize his sobriety. Unlike Cam, he actually knows me.

“And either way,” I say, “you don’t have any control over Hunter’s choices.”

“I know that. I’m here to offer you an alternative.”

Startled, I jerk back. “What do you mean?”

“I want to make you a similar offer. Except my house is a lot bigger than Hunter’s condo, which will be better for Cadence. And you won’t have to clean it or make my meals. And I’m willing to pay you much more.”

I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach.

“What would I do for you?”

He hesitates for a moment, his dark eyes roaming my face. Whatever he’s about to propose, it seems like even he’s not completely sold on it. He seems to come to some kind of decision, because his eyes harden, and his posture straightens. “Hunter wanted you to be his housewife. Well, I want you to be my party wife. I want you to come with me to events and parties and make sure I’m able to talk as little as possible. To as few people as possible. I know you love parties, and I absolutely hate them. I’d be happy if I could never attend one again, but that’s not a possibility in our industry. And since we won’t be touring again until June of next year, I won’t be able to use our rigorous concert schedule as an excuse to skip them.”

I stare at him blankly, my head swimming.

“What are you thinking?” His dark gaze roams my face.

I take a deep breath, trying to give myself another moment to collect my thoughts. “It’s insane that you would ask me to do that. Most of the time we’re around each other, you barely even make eye contact with me. Why would you want me to be your party wife? It seems like you could find a million women to do that for you. Women who would do it for free. Women who are more charismatic and much prettier. Wouldn’t it make more sense to choose one of your fans?” I frown at him. “I don’t even like your music that much. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think it’s very pretty if you like dad music like Mumford & Sons, but it’s not my cup of tea, and I wouldn’t hesitate to tell anyone at a party. Just like I’m not hesitating to tell you right now.”

I nearly drop my jaw when he chuckles. The sight and sound is so unfamiliar—that deep rumble of a voice growing lighter, those shoulders shaking and normally stern eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Dad music.” His voice is tight with laughter. “Brutal, Lauren.”

My lips quirk. “It’s not an insult. My dad loves your music, so it’s literally true.”

His smile softens. “You still say exactly what’s on your mind, huh? That hasn’t changed a bit.”

The affectionate look in his eyes makes me a little dizzy. I have to look away, needing to keep a clear head. “You said you would pay me more. How much more?”

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