Midnight Heat (Black Phoenix Book 2) (13 page)

They’d also told her she’d never play the piano again. “Obviously, they underestimated your dedication to the cause.”

Isabeau laughed then went quiet. Too quiet. “What if I inherited more than my dark skin and hair from him?” she asked softly. “What if I inherited his temper?”

“I’ve never seen you lose your temper, not even over some of the stupid shit Alex has done.” And he’d done some bloody stupid shit. Most of it in Isabeau’s house. “You’ll be a fantastic mother.”

When she didn’t reply, he asked, “Isabeau, don’t you want this baby?”

“More than my next breath,” she admitted, heartfelt. “It’s just surreal, new, and a bit terrifying.”

“I get that. But Noah knows something is up. He thinks you’re not happy here with him.”

“What a pair we are. He’s afraid I’m unhappy here, and I’m afraid to tell him I’m—” she stopped suddenly.

Dominic opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, when Noah spoke, his tone equal parts curiosity and apprehension. “Afraid to tell me you’re what?”

She always did have an uncanny ability to know when Noah entered a room, whether or not he was in sight. Isabeau slipped off the piano bench and turned in the direction of his voice.

Dom did as well. He didn’t mean to be a part of this conversation, but before he could escape, Noah stepped out of the doorway leading to the basement and into the archway—directly between Dominic and his luggage.

Noah’s gaze bounced between his wife and the piano. “Were you playing?”

“The urge has been much stronger these past few weeks.”

”That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Noah asked, hope in his voice.

“It’s…interesting…since it coincides with a host of other symptoms.”

“Symptoms?” His entire body tensed, like a man preparing to take a blow. “Are you ill?”

“I’m not ill,” Isabeau reassured him as she crossed to stand before him. She placed a hand in the center of his chest. Noah immediately grasped it, his thumb smoothed back and forth across her palm. “And I’m not unhappy with you,” she continued, then reached into her back pocket with her free hand, withdrawing what appeared to be a black and white photograph. She turned Noah’s hand and placed the photo into his palm. “I’ve been exhausted, nauseous, and…”

“Afraid to tell me you’re…” She pointed at the photograph and Noah appeared to lose his train of thought. “You’re not ill,” he said after a moment.

“No. I’m—”

“Pregnant.” He answered for her, then looked over at Dominic.

“Why are you looking at me?” Dominic asked, smiling broadly at Noah’s stunned expression. “You’re the one who can’t keep your hands off her.”

Noah blinked.

Isabeau beamed up at her husband. “I couldn’t believe it either. The ob-gyn had to do an ultrasound to prove it to me, even after I heard the baby’s heartbeat.”

“You heard…” Staring down at the ultrasound in his hands, Noah floundered. Choosing not to say much, which was his usual M.O. was one thing. But when he chose to use words, he could usually string a sentence together that made sense. Not so much now. “You’re pregnant,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

Dom wondered how it would feel to learn you were about to have a child. To believe it could never happen, and in the next minute discover that not only could it, but your child was already growing inside your wife.

He couldn’t imagine. Never really considered kids a part of his future. The only family he had was Noah and Isabeau. He’d never had a mum, siblings nothing.

But the look on Noah’s face…
damn
. Dominic smiled, genuinely happy even as he pondered if he would ever know that kind of joy.

“Isabeau,” Noah sighed, his voice pitched so low it was barely audible. He cupped one hand around the back of his wife’s neck and the other around her waist, then pulled her into his embrace. He pressed his cheek against her temple. “Isa…you take my breath away.”

Okay. Past time for him to leave. Dominic edged toward the door. He picked up his luggage when Noah stopped him.

“Dom?”

He turned back and was forced to drop his duffle and snag the keys out of the air before they smacked him in the face—the keys to Noah’s Aston.

“Keep it,” Noah said. “Seems I’m going to need one with a bit more space.”

Chapter Eleven

A week later Dominic was finally able to tolerate being in the studio, and happily returned. He’d lost weeks to his concussion. Weeks he needed to make up by putting in more hours a day than the rest of his mates. It wasn’t much of a hardship, since he had nothing else to do with his time except sit alone in his apartment.

He hated being alone. When his grandmother was alive she would tell him he’d been like that from childhood. Fussing whenever she was out of sight. It made sense, since immediately after giving birth, his mother had overdosed on heroine, leaving him cold and hungry, squalling next to her lifeless body.

His early teens had been difficult. He was a scrawny, sickly kid who didn’t make connections quickly. But once the band got together and grew in popularity, it became increasingly easier to surround himself with people. Women, friends, wanna-be friends - it didn’t matter. He was a gypsy, just as Becca claimed. Moving from city to city, country to country, and friend’s guest room to friend’s guest room so as never to be alone. At least not physically.

But damnit, he was tired of it. He wanted a sense of belonging, a sense of permanence. Being a wanderer no longer appealed. Instead, he longed to feel as if he’d made an impact on life. Like he’d done something important. The music had been enough for a while, but now he desired so much more.

Too bad he had no idea how to get it.

Setting his bass in the stand, Dominic ran his fingers down the neck. An Ibanez six-string with a gorgeous alder body and maple top – his most prized possession. One of few. He’d learned a long time ago that possessions could be lost or taken away, so it was best not to have any. Not anything that really mattered. The more it mattered, the greater the need to keep his distance.

Which was the root of his problem. Pulling his mobile from his pocket, he scrolled through the gallery until he found the photo he wanted. The one that showed the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, smiling up at him from his own bed.

Rebecca.

She had mattered to him. More than he’d dare admit. He’d run from her, not because of the words she’d spoken, but because he’d been tempted to say them back. Childhood fears were the most difficult to eradicate. Even now they had the power to reach out and grab him by the throat. Three years ago when his feelings were so raw and new to him…he’d never stood a chance.

Damn it.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, as the need to escape surged, grew strong enough he couldn’t ignore it. However, acknowledging the need didn’t mean he had to follow through with it. No, there had to be something else that could be done. This is one thing in his life that was worth fighting for. The other things, not so much, so it was easy to let them go. Not Becca. He loved her too much to stand by and do nothing. He had to make things right between them.

Clueless as to how to go about it, he glanced at the ceiling of the studio and wondered.

* * *

“So, you
do
want to work things out with her?” Isabeau asked. “Because, we’ve talked about this before and still you never called her. I take it staring down a semi and winning made you realize something was missing?”

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Dominic had come up from the basement looking for a woman’s point of view. He’d wanted to speak with Isa alone, but instead found her and Noah together in the oversized lounge chair that fit the two of them perfectly. Noah’s arm was around her, Isabeau leaning against him as much as the chair back. “I knew something was missing before the accident,” he admitted. “But seeing her again…cemented it.”

Isabeau smiled, effectively but silently telling him she was pleased. “You want Rebecca, go get her.”

He rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks. I’ve never heard that before.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Tell me…I don’t bloody know! Tell me the secret.”

She looked up at him with a confused stare that failed to reassure. “What secret? What makes you think I know a secret?”

Dominic gestured to the chair, the two of them sitting as one. Connected. “
This
secret! How do I get to this?” Honestly, it was a little painful to look at them. “You two…you make it seem so easy.”

“Sure, it’s easy now, but getting here? You were there with us, how can you think it was easy?” Isabeau scooted to the front edge of the chair, separating herself from Noah, moving closer to the couch where Dominic sat. “Dom, you shared things with me once, things I don’t think you’ve ever shared with anyone before. About your childhood fears.”

She went straight for the jugular, didn’t she?

“Why did you tell me? Why me?”

He’d wanted to tell someone. As a way to let loose, to exorcise the demons in his head that never let up. Never went away no matter the passage of time. Why he’d chosen her, remained a mystery. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. It wasn’t that I’m safe. I could leave you, just like everyone else in your life has done at one time or another, even Noah.”

Dominic opened his mouth, prepared to defend his friend, then shut it. Noah had left him. At a time when he’d needed him most.

Noah startled. “I’ve never—“

“Yes you did, Noah,” Isabeau said, cutting off his argument. “After Danny died. You didn’t plan to, but you did, you left them all. Didn’t he, Dominic? He abandoned the band. He abandoned
you
.”

“Jesus,” Noah muttered.

Shit.
This wasn’t the conversation Dom had in mind when he’d searched out Isabeau tonight.

“You wanted to trust someone,” she said, her expression softening along with her tone. “You wanted to trust me, so you did. I love you, Dom, like the brother I always wanted. But the person you need to open up to is Rebecca.”

All he could do was stare at her, his thoughts in a whirl.

“I know what you’re running from. I also know you’re tired of running.” He was. God, he was. “So, stop. Stop running, please. You want what Noah and I have, and you deserve it. But you can’t have it, you’ll never have it, until you stop running and talk to her. Trust her, Dom.”

He was just a musician who’d clawed his way out of the shit he’d been born in. Rebecca was smart, educated, with a good job, good breeding and a family. She deserved a guy who stayed in one place, with a home, a career, stability. She deserved the white picket fence.

He wasn’t that guy. He didn’t know how to be that guy. “Becca deserves better than me.”

“Dominic Parker Price!” Isabeau’s eyes lit with anger. “How dare you! What about you makes you not worthy? Your big heart? Your capacity to love?”

He clawed his fingers through his hair. “You don’t know what I said to her.”

“That’s the past. You can’t change the past no matter how much you may want to. You know that. I know that. Noah knows that. All that matters is what you say to her now. What will you say to her?”

Good goddamn question. “There’s nothing I can say that will change what I did to her. She told me to go away.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line and frowned. “How long ago was this? You didn’t listen did you?”

“A week ago.”

Isabeau sighed.

“She told me to go away,” he repeated.

“Do you have any idea how many times I told Noah to go away?”

“At least three,” Noah piped up.

She nodded. “He never listened. Why did you?”

“That’s different,” Dom argued.

“How is it different?” Isabeau wanted to know.

“You loved Noah. You didn’t really mean it.”

“Oh, she meant it.” Noah argued.

“Seriously?” Dominic asked, even though he could tell Noah was telling the truth. “Women don’t make any sense.”

Isabeau chuffed. “And men do?” She stared at Dom without commenting further. Long enough that he began to squirm. Then she smiled that knowing feminine smile he’d seen so many women wear. “Is this how you feel when pointing out the obvious to me?”

Dom stacked his hands atop his head. “What are you talking about?”

“What exactly did she say to you?”

Go away, Dominic.
“I’d rather not—”

“Dominic.”

“She told me to go away, okay? And…”
Shit.
The pain was worse than he imagined. He pushed the heel of his palm into his chest and rubbed.

“And?”

I don’t love you anymore, Dominic.

“What else did she say?” Isabeau prodded.

“That she doesn’t love me anymore.” The words tore from his throat all jagged edges and bitter taste, but it was better to get them out before they strangled him.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did she tell you that?”

He released a long breath. “Because I’m a bloody bastard!”

“Why else?”

Dom propped his elbows on his knees and pushed his hair away from his face. Once he spoke them aloud, Rebecca’s words circled his mind like a vulture.

“Isabeau,” Noah warned. “Put the poor man out of his misery. He’s not going to get there on his own. He’s too close to the situation.”

I don’t love you anymore, Dominic.
Goddamnit, could her haunting words not let up for five fucking seconds?

“He’s an intelligent man,” she argued. “He’ll see it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The only thing Dominic saw was Becca’s face; the pain in her eyes as she told him she didn’t love him. Over and over it played through his mind, leaving him raw and bleeding. “Just spill it, will you?”

Isabeau blinked. “Still cranky, I see.”

Surging to his feet, Dominic headed for the door. He pulled it open with a violent twist of the handle.

“You went to see her, didn’t you?” Isabeau asked, her voice soft and full of understanding. He waited with his hand on the door as she crossed to him. “It wasn’t the first time you showed up on her doorstep, was it?”