Love Rock'ollection: The Brutal Strength Rock Star Trilogy, books 1-3 (32 page)

He’d done a little internet research on her last night. It had been quite illuminating. The sharp tongued bitch sure got around, riding a virtual carousel of relationships.

He leaned against the doorframe, studying her through the lens of this new information. Last night, he’d worked hard to convince himself that she hadn’t been as good looking as he’d remembered.
Ok. Wrong.
It was no wonder she had her pick of men.

Chris totally got the appeal. Why all those other guys, knowing what he now knew, had risked it anyway to be with her. Admittedly, he was sorely tempted himself. She’d been on
People
magazine’s list of top one hundred beautiful celebrities last year for a good reason. Her curves were definitely in all the right places. But then there was that mouth of hers…

“You’re late, grandpa,” she said glancing at her watch. “Mary said eight. What’s wrong? Forget your Viagra?”

Chris rolled his eyes. Looked like they were going to continue from where they’d left off. “I’d need more than that to be interested in you. Seriously woman, I may be old, you got me there, but at least I haven’t been out on the town with half of Nashville.”

Sara sucked in a shocked breath, letting her hair fall forward to shield her flaming face. Knowing her reputation and having it thrown back at her like that were two separate things. He must have been on the internet. Though the image wasn’t one she cultivated, she didn’t do anything to change it, either. It was convenient, attracting the only type of guys she wanted in her life, short term ones.

So Chris wanted to play hard ball. Fine, she could throw one right back at him. She’d done a little homework of her own. “At least I can keep ‘em until
I
decide I’m tired of them. Unlike you and your ex-wife, huh?”

Chris’ lips flattened and his muscles noticeably clenched. Evidently the mere mention of his ex still affected him. He took in a deep breath before meeting her gaze. “Ok. Listen. I get it. I don’t like you. You don’t like me. But we’re stuck working on this project together. Agreed?”

Sara nodded, feeling a tad guilty for her barb. Chris looked sucker punched. Maybe she might have taken things a bit too far.

“Ok. Well. I’ll agree to lay off the personal attacks if you will,” he continued. “We’re both professionals. We can do this song without any blood being spilled, right?”

Sara cringed at his choice of words wondering if they were intentional. She searched his face, looking for a sign that he knew. But how could he? They had been minors when it happened. The records had been sealed. She waited for the follow up, but relaxed when it never came.

Chris’ text alert pinged and he glanced down at the display. “I’m sorry. I need to answer this. Did you get a chance to listen to what I have recorded for the album?”

“No, I…”

He cut her off, holding up his phone. “I’ve got to go listen to a couple of guys who’ve come to audition for my band. Why don’t you get a digital copy of what I have so far? Dalton in productions should be able to help you.” He moved toward the door but stopped, tapping the frame twice before turning around. “Listen, Sara, I think Mary is right. Your music, your voice will be a good fit for the sound I want on the album. If it’s ok with you, I’ll meet you back up here on Thursday, and we can get started.”

“Sure. That’s fine.”

“Good.” He gave her a thin smile and left.

Sara was glad that was settled. A professional relationship was all that she wanted from him.

SAM SHAMBLED WEARILY into work, feeling as lifeless as a zombie. Things around her were amping up with the day for the official launch of the
Love Evolution
tour rapidly approaching. She’d barely gotten four hours of sleep last night. Beth had kept her at work late and then called her several times at home with additional things that just couldn’t wait until morning.

This early in the morning the executive floor was blissfully quiet. Running through a mental ‘to do’ list, Sam opened the lid to her coffee and breathed in the delicious aroma. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

“Hey.” JR smiled tightly. “How’s it going?”

Sam sighed inwardly before she turned. He’d been nothing if not persistent in his pursuit. He’d sent flowers, then chocolates to her office. He’d even put a six pack of yogurt in the break room fridge with a note attached.

Today, his blond bangs were gel free, and the silky strands slid forward, brushing against his high cheek bones. He wore a dark evergreen polo with graphic lettering over a grey thermal layer and had on dark jeans. She hoped it wasn’t blatantly obvious how fabulously attractive she found him.

She had to quash an urge to peek at his backside. It was becoming harder and harder to tell him no.
It’s for your own good
, she repeated to herself for the umpteenth time. “Good JR. I’m good. Is there something in particular I can help you with?”

He hesitated, drumming his fingers on his jean pockets. “No, not really. I just wanted to see if you’d changed your mind about going out.”

“No. I haven’t changed my mind.”

He gave a resigned shrug.

Why did she let his wounded expression get to her? It shouldn’t matter at all. She was just his featured flavor of the week. She’d be a fool to think he had any real feelings for her. Yet, she found herself trying to soften the blow. “Sorry to be so short. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“No worries,” he said grimly.

She noticed his jaw clench before he turned away.

“See you around, Sam.”

“HOW ARE THINGS going between you and Ryan?” Sam asked her sister over lunch at Rain City Grill, a popular upscale café on the water’s edge of English Bay just outside Stanley Park.

“They’re not. We were over and done with weeks ago.” She shrugged.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she replied, brushing the breadcrumbs off the white table cloth with beautifully manicured hands. “It was amusing while it lasted, that’s all, nothing more.” She hadn’t even offered Ryan a reason for the breakup, but had ended the month long relationship when the nightmares returned. Her father being up for parole again had exacted a mental toll on her. She kept it to herself, though. Sam didn’t know about any of it. Unless his parole was approved, she didn’t plan to mention it.

Studying Sara over the crystal rim of her glass, Sam took note of the pinched look around her eyes. Someone who didn’t know her as well might have missed it. Since the debacle with Matthew, short shallow relationships had become more of the norm for her sister. “Sara,” she said lowering her voice, “When are you going to give a guy more than a passing chance with you?”

“I’m not.” Sara snorted. “Binge and purge. That’s my motto.”

“Come on.” Sam pursed her lips. “I’m serious.”

“You know me,” Sara said with a forced smile. “I’m not interested in the enduring relationship status.” She shrugged again. “I always let them know where I stand up front. I never lead anyone on.” Eyebrows knitting together, she whispered, “I’m not like Momma.”

“No, of course you’re not,” Sam said, squeezing Sara’s hand.

Sara leaned back and took another sip from her water. She waved off the uniformed waiter hovering to refill her glass. “I’m good thanks,” she told him. Turning back to her sister, she said, “Enough of the heavy, ok?

“Fine.” Sam nodded.

“You look tired. How early did you leave for work this morning?”

“Five.”

“Damn, Sam. I didn’t realize Beth was such a slave driver. I thought she was the nice one.”

“She is nice, and she’s not a slave driver.” Sam’s voice rose as she rushed headlong to defend her boss. “She’s just a perfectionist and wants to make sure every detail has been checked and rechecked before Brutal Strength goes on tour. Attention to detail like that is why she has such a stellar reputation.”

“Hey, no disrespect intended. I just don’t like to see you looking so worn out.” Reaching across the table, she tucked one of her sister’s curls behind her ear before asking, “Is JR still sniffing around?”

Sam nodded, focusing on straightening the black napkin in her lap.

“Why do you look so guilty? He’s the one who won’t give it a rest.” She shook her head. “I’ve known lots of guys like him. It’s a game, thrill of the chase kinda crap.”

“I know that’s what you think, but… the sad expression on his face.” Sam gave a resigned sigh.

Before Sara could respond the waiter arrived, placing delectable salmon salads in front of them. When he left the table she tapped a finger to her lips. “JR has been way more persistent than I would have thought, but BS is going on the road soon, aren’t they?”

Sam nodded, taking a bite of the lightly seasoned fish. She was starving and glad to get something more substantial than her usual yogurt. At that thought, an image of JR flooded her mind. Her appetite evaporated. She continued chewing, but the salmon might as well have been cardboard now.

“That’s a relief, I bet.” Sara lifted her glass. “Here’s to JR being out of your hair soon.”

Gazing disinterestedly at the salad, Sam bit her lip, wondering why that idea left her with a hollow, empty feeling inside.

SAM STRETCHED HER arms over her head, trying to work the kinks out of her back, and yawned. She slipped her shoes off. She had been in her office working at this for hours. Outside her window it was dark and the usually busy city sidewalk was nearly deserted. Glancing back at the computer screen, she scowled and raised her fist at the Rickshaw seating chart.
Stupid, uncooperative thing
. Where had she made her mistake? “Shoot! Shoot! Shoot!” She dropped her head down onto the frosted tempered glass surface of her modern L-shaped desk and pounded it several times.

A light knock brought her bout of self–flagellation to an end. She looked up to see JR casually leaning against the doorframe. As their eyes met, he straightened and held up a couple of white takeout bags in one hand and a cardboard drink carrier in the other. The mouth- watering aroma drifted across the room.

“Someone told me you were pulling another late nighter. I thought you might be hungry.”

Her stomach growled right on cue. She smiled sheepishly. “Apparently. What have you got in there? It smells delicious.”

He handed her one of the bags and settled his long frame in one of the leather office chairs facing her desk. Tonight he had on a black long sleeve shirt with the buttons open just enough at the collar to reveal a hint of a white undershirt underneath. Both layers were tucked smoothly into a pair of fashionably distressed jeans held up around his narrow hips by a black canvas belt. The man was definitely metro. Pulling her gaze away from the distracting view, she went about the business of opening up the fast food sack. Her stomach grumbled again as she pulled out a hamburger and fries from the Red Onion.

“Thank you, JR.” Lips lifting slightly, she peered shyly at him from underneath her long eyelashes. She was trying real hard not to let on how very touched she was by his thoughtfulness. It certainly didn’t gel with the image her sister had of him. “About earlier today, I…”