Break On Through (28 page)

“I thought it was ‘When a Man Loves a Walnut’.”

She would have laughed if she didn’t foresee the point he was about to make.

“That’s how out of touch I am, how foreign that idea is to me.”

“Oh, Reed.”

He moved up to kiss her throat, and then her mouth. “I swear, Cleo, if I had it in me to love I’d give it all to you.”

On Halloween Day, Reed visited the recuperating Payne in the hospital. This time he found the patient alone, a surprise.

“Where’s your entourage?” Reed asked, glancing at the dick-shaped helium balloon tied to the foot of the bed. Every time he’d visited before there’d been a gaggle of female admirers in the room.

Payne opened his eyes. There were bruises on his face and a sling kept his arm immobile due to a healing collarbone. There were other injuries but none of them showed above the white hospital blanket. “I think they’re in the cafeteria hoping to attract the attention of rich young doctors.”

“Consolation prize then,” Reed said, and pushed aside three flower arrangements and an ugly plant to place a plastic, pumpkin-shaped bucket on the table beside the bed. “Candy and everything.”

“Yeah?” Payne shifted on the bed, winced. “What kind of candy?”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Snickers.”

“Sorry,” Reed said. “Ate all those myself.”

“Fucker.” Payne scowled.

Dropping into the chair beside the bed, Reed smirked. “I’m kidding.”

“Yeah?” the other man reached for the bucket to paw through the contents. “And Tootsie Pops.”

“I kept the M & M’s, though.”

Payne popped a sucker into his mouth. “You look like shit,” he said around the candy.

“Thanks. You glimpsed yourself in a mirror lately?”

“I have a legit reason for appearing like I went under a bus. How about you?”

Reed rubbed at his chest. He missed Cleo. There, he admitted it. He missed Cleo and he missed her kids. The ache would go away. Soon.

Eventually.

Maybe when he was dead.

“What’s up with you and the beautiful neighbor lady?”

“I’ve moved on.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Payne said. “When I do my ribs hurt like the devil.”

“Okay. I haven’t moved on. But I broke it off.”

“Why?”

Reed vaulted out of the chair and made for the window. The view was freeway and blue sky.

“I heard you were planning my funeral before I was even out of surgery,” Payne said.

It was Reed’s turn to wince and he glanced over his shoulder at the man in the bed. “Sorry about that. Cami called me a ghoul.”

“I told her it was because you love me. You were that distraught.”

Reed snorted. “In your dreams.”

“Don’t you have any?” Payne asked. “Dreams?”

Frowning, Reed turned toward him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t you want those things we never saw at the compound? A healthy relationship with a woman? A strong family? Good, wholesome stuff like that?”

“I—”

“Don’t bother denying it. Take that house of yours. It’s screaming for a wife and kids and a dog or two or three.”

Reed rubbed his chest again. “I’m better off alone.”

“You suck at alone. It makes you grouchy.”

“What?” Reed choked out a laugh.

“Chicken or the egg, dumbass. You think you’re cranky so you have to be alone. I say being alone makes you cranky.” He pointed the sucker at Reed. “You seemed happy around Cleo and those kids of hers.”

“I…” He looked down. Of course he’d been happy. The sex was off-the-charts. Cleo, Eli, and Obie were funny and smart. “I have, you know, the creepy imagination,” he said lamely.

“So you’ll tell the best stories to the boys and their little friends. That’s a feature, not a bug.”

Reed ran two fingers along his hairline at the back of his neck, touching his tattoo.
Ben.
“If you start to care and then something happens—”

“Jesus, Reed, you already care,” Payne said, all impatience. “That ship has sailed. So pull your head out of your ass and take the wheel. Steer toward calm, bright waters.”

He stared at the blond man. “Where’s all this come from?”

“The other side, dude. I almost died on that operating table.”

As it neared dark, Reed brooded inside his house, going over and over his visit with Payne.
I almost died on that operating table.
Every time the phrase echoed in his head, his gut clenched and he felt a sharp twinge in his chest. The other man would laugh if he knew, because it turned out he was right.

He loved the guy.

And the other members of the Rock Royalty tribe, too.

He loved the fucking lot of them.

Groaning, he threw himself onto his couch and rubbed his face with his hands.

“I love Cleo,” he said aloud. “I love Eli and I love Obie.”

Shoving off the cushions, he paced about the room. So what, though? So what? That didn’t mean he could give them what they needed. His growing-up years had stunted him, hadn’t it? He wouldn’t know how to…to create a family with them, no matter how much he wanted that.

And, he admitted to himself now, he wanted that very, very much.

In need of fresh air, he walked out his front door. The winds had come up, blowing hot air off the desert. His lawn was littered with leaves. A palm frond from someone else’s tree came sailing through the air, almost like a witch’s broom.

Spooky.

It made him think of zombies, and of Eli and Obie trick-or-treating. Without permission, his feet headed for his front gate.

It creaked as he opened it and he inspected the bowl of candy he’d left by the mailbox, as he’d been in no mood to greet trick-or-treaters.

Grouchy
, he thought.

Maybe if he caught a glimpse of Cleo and her kids his mood would lift. He didn’t have to talk to them or anything. Observing from a distance would be enough.

The neighborhood was teeming with cartoon characters, superheroes, pop stars, and mini-soldiers dressed in camouflage. Parents trailed, or carried the very littlest in their arms. He saw a baby angel and a tiny clown. A mom had dressed up her very pregnant belly as a basketball.

For an instant an image blazed in his brain. Cleo, pregnant with his child. A little sister or a little brother for Eli and Obie.
Take that house of yours. It’s
screaming for a wife and kids and a dog or two or three.

Fucking Payne.

Reed continued walking, and then, half a block away, he saw a knot of children, one wrapped with something that looked…noodle-ish.

Kelp.

Staying on the opposite side of the street, he trailed a different group, but kept his gaze on the one he was interested in. Cleo was there, following behind her boys, her blonde hair unmistakable. It looked as if she wore a fishing net as a cape. Narrowing his eyes, he picked out Eli as he passed beneath a street lamp. His costume was a shark.

They’d taken his advice and dressed to throw the zombies off the scent.

You’ll tell the best stories to the boys and their little friends. That’s a feature, not a bug.

Remembering that made him smile.

And then it died, as he saw another lone man up ahead, half-hidden by a lamppost, watching the same group of trick-or-treaters. His instincts went on high alert. Every muscle tensed.

How he knew, he couldn’t say for sure. But the other observer, he was certain of it, was Cleo’s ex-husband, Pete.

Reed moved forward. The ex remained in position, even as Eli, Obie, and Cleo traveled ahead. Just as Reed reached him, the other man straightened as if to follow.

“I don’t think so,” Reed said quietly.

The man whirled. He was thin and sandy-haired. “What?”

“You told Cleo you were going to leave her and the boys alone.”

“Who are you?” Pete demanded.

“Their neighbor. Their friend.” He shifted to block the ex’s view of the group. “The man who loves them.”

Pete twitched. “Cleo—”

“Loves me too.” She’d not said it in so many words, but he knew it to be true.

“I was only looking—”

“What’s your end game, Pete? Are you hoping to start over with them?” Not that Reed would let that happen, not after he’d seen the bruises on Cleo and the fear on her boys’ faces.

“I…I can’t.” He hung his head. “I know I can’t.”

“Then go, work on yourself. Get well.”

“What the hell do you know about it?”

“I don’t,” Reed acknowledged. “But I know that woman and those boys deserve happiness and a healthy mind and heart.”

“You got that?” Pete asked. “You can make them happy?”

“I’m going to try,” Reed said, now sure of that to his very bones. “I’m going to do all that I can.”

The other man narrowed his eyes. The wind came up, hot, like a monster’s breath. It plastered their clothes to their bodies and picked up leaves from the sidewalk and whirled them in the air.

In the distance, a child let out a wild shriek—but one of joy.

It seemed to break the spell. Pete shook himself. “Don’t fuck it up like I did,” he said, and walked off, into the night.

Reed watched until he was out of sight. Another gust blew more debris around him, and a leaf stuck to his shirt. He plucked it from his chest, only then realizing what it really was.

A feather.

The feather of a red-tailed hawk, that showed up when you needed to pay attention. When you should look for an underlying truth.

Reed closed his fingers over it, then looked upward. “I think I got it now, Ben.”

Cleo trudged down the driveway to the guest house, Obie’s pillowcase of candy in one fist, Eli’s in the other. “I don’t know, boys. The person who carries the candy home might get the first selection.”

There were some outraged mutters, but they sounded half-hearted. The trick-or-treating had worn them all out.

They were in bed and she was thinking about a cup of tea when something on the kitchen counter caught her gaze. A feather, its colors white and black and a brownish-red.

The feather of a red-tailed hawk.

She glanced around wildly.

Then a quiet knock sounded on the front door. Swiping up the feather, she hurried to the entry. After checking the peephole, she swung the door open. “Reed?”

He opened his mouth. Then, instead of saying anything, he stepped in, swept her up in his arms and kissed her. Surprised, she stumbled, but he held her up, his mouth warm and gentle on hers.

Then he pushed her a little away. “Happy Halloween.”

She tilted her head. “Is it?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Her heart, already pounding harder at his nearness, tripped. “What’s going on?”

“I found a feather.” He held one up.

Puzzled, she stared at it, then produced her own. “Me, too.”

Reed blinked. “No.”

“Yes. On the kitchen counter.”

“I—” Shaking his head, he laughed a little. “Okay. So I think that means I need to pay attention to how I feel—or, at least, recognize it for what it is—and you need to look for an underlying truth. Which are, by the way, one and the same thing.”

“Which is?”

He touched his brow to hers. “That I’m in love you. That I love you and your boys and I want us to be a family—the kind that might be unfamiliar to me, but that I’m damn determined to create with you, Cleo.”

Happiness welled from her heart and spread through her body. “I love you, too.” Joyous, effervescent happiness. And not just for herself and for the future, but for Reed too, who was going to let her bring sunshine and missing socks, plastic dinosaurs and potluck dinners into his life.

“You won’t ever be alone again,” she warned him.

“Make that a promise,” he said, smiling brilliantly. “And you’re on.”

The End

Dear Reader:

Reed and Cleo have a rosy future ahead, though it took a sunny heart to convince the dark prince to abandon his solitary existence. This is the third book in my brand new Rock Royalty series and I’m loving writing these emotional and sexy stories.

Interested in sharing your thoughts with other readers? I hope you leave a review for the book.

The Rock Royalty rock on in the next in the series, Touch Me. Payne Colson, recovering from a bad auto racing crash, faces further obstacles when the girl he can’t forget re-enters his life. The people around him might be finding love, but Payne is as suspicious as the other single rock ’n’ roll princes and princess about his chances at a happy-ever-after. To not miss out on its release and to get other information about upcoming books,
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Below, find excerpts to other titles and links to buy books you may have missed.

Enjoy!

Christie Ridgway

Excerpt: Light My Fire

Rock Royalty #1

Christie Ridgway

The children of America's premier rock band learned early to sleep through anything. Late night jam sessions, liquor (and worse) -fueled arguments, raucous parties raging from dark to dawn that were peppered with wild laughter, breaking glass, and the squishy thud of fists against skin. At twenty-four, Cilla Maddox had not lost that skill, though she'd recently come to view it as something less than a gift.

Still, she didn't stir from her curled position on the edge of the king-sized bed when a tall, broad figure entered the room in the middle of the night. No streetlights disturbed the darkness this deep in Laurel Canyon and the newcomer found the bed only by deduction. When, at his sixth cautious step, his shin met an immoveable object, he dropped the motorcycle boots and duffel bag he carried to the plush carpet and took a leap of faith by tipping his long body forward. Finding firm mattress and feathery pillow, he instantly fell into sleep.

Hours later, Cilla came awake to the sound of birds tweeting and chirping their odes to another Southern California morning as they flitted through the shrubbery and tall eucalyptus trees that grew inside and outside the canyon compound where she'd grown up. Eyes closed, she breathed in the country-scented air, such a surprise when the famous Hollywood Boulevard and its twin in notoriety, the Sunset Strip, were less than a mile away. Flopping to her back, she stretched to her full five-feet, five inches. Then she pushed her arms overhead and swept them back down until her fingertips met—