Midnight Heat (Black Phoenix Book 2) (16 page)

“Cute being a code word for what, exactly?”

He was acting like it was a dirty word. Or at the very least, a word that didn’t belong in the male vernacular. If it wasn’t so much fun seeing him riled up over the apartment, she may have taken pity on him. Instead, she was planning how she could use the word to describe him. If he thought describing his apartment as cute was bad…

She smiled.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you messing with me, Becca?” he asked, stuffing the key in his pocket.

The action drew her attention to his hands. God, his fingers. She already knew the skill of those ten digits, and the pleasure they could bring. The things he’d promised to do with them later…just thinking about it brought a warm flush to her face. “Maybe.”

Immediately, his gaze homed in on her cheeks. “Maybe?” He paused, considering her a moment. “Are you blushing?”

“Of course not.” Even if she didn’t have skin that gave away her secrets, she’d never been any good at lying.

He flashed a smile. The one that always made her want to take all her clothes off. “You going to share?”

“Share what?”

“What you’re thinking about that has you blushing.”

The warmth in her cheeks kicked up a notch.

So did his smile. “I’m going to like this, aren’t I?” he said, voice husky.

“What makes you so sure it has anything to do with you?” she asked, a bit too breathlessly for her liking.

His smile turned to laughter. Lines creased the corners of his eyes.

Rebecca shook her head and turned away. What else could she do? She was halfway down the outside steps that led to his apartment when she stopped. “What time did you say we were supposed to be there?”

He didn’t answer. A glance over her shoulder found him still smiling, an unreadable look in his eye.

“I like how you said ‘we’.”

Did she?
She hadn’t noticed.

“Eleven-thirty. Why?”

“Because I’m fairly certain that’s Isabeau in the alley across the street.”

He looked past her, surprise on his face.

“There,” she said, pointing. “Near that young girl.”

“Come on.” He slipped around her and led her down the stairs, settling a hand at her lower back as he glanced in both directions and crossed the street.

The young girl in question had long dark brown hair, parted in the middle and styled into two braids down her back. She wore a navy zip-front hoodie over a sapphire blue Henley, jeans torn at the knees, and canvas shoes with no laces. She carried an army green backpack that looked like it’d come from a surplus store, hands fisted so tightly on the strap her knuckles were white.

Rebecca curled her fingers around Dominic’s bicep. “Hold up. Give her some space.”

“Isabeau?”

“The girl.” She was favoring her right side, her breaths shallow and too fast. Concern caused Rebecca to take another step in their direction. A move that spooked the child.

In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

Isabeau sighed. She pressed her fingers to her lips, her attention focused on the spot the girl had stood. Then she started down the alley.

She was about ten feet from them when Dominic spoke, “Isabeau?”

She jerked and faced them, surprise written all over her face. “I didn’t see you there, I’m…sorry.”

Dom studied her a moment. “We’re running late, which means you’re superbly late. To your own gathering.”

Isabeau flashed a smile. “I needed something from the market.”

“Yeah?” He paused, then tipped his head in the direction Isabeau had just come. “Was that her?”

Rebecca straightened. His reference spoke of a prior knowledge of the young girl. If he knew her, perhaps he knew how she’d been injured. More importantly, whether or not she’d received medical attention. It didn’t take a Ph.D. to figure out the girl was in trouble.

“Her name is Chloe,” Isabeau said.

“So, she told you her name. That’s good, right?” Dom flicked a glance at Rebecca, as if making sure she remained a part of the conversation. “Did you invite Chloe to lunch?”

Isabeau let out a deep breath. “No. She doesn’t trust me yet.”

“That’s understandable,” he replied softly.

“Yes it is.” She shifted her attention off Dominic and focused on Rebecca. “Good morning, Rebecca. You look positively radiant this morning.”

“Subtle,” Dominic said before Rebecca could reply. “I take it we’re done talking about your new friend?”

“What?” she asked innocently, then ruined it by laughing. “Maybe I’m just interested in getting to know
your
new friend. She is glowing though. You are glowing,” she told Rebecca.

“Thank you,” Rebecca replied with a smile. “As are you.”

“Wow, this isn’t uncomfortable at all,” Dominic said drolly.

Isabeau’s eyebrow arched.

Rebecca shook her head. “Don’t worry; he thinks everything is code this morning.”

“Yeah?”

“I called his apartment cute.”

She grinned. “It is nice, isn’t it?”

“Now it’s cute
and
nice?” Dominic looked absolutely horrified by the thought. “Fantastic.”

Rebecca slipped her hand into his, a broad smile on her face. She patted his bicep with her free hand, then gave it a squeeze, distracted for a moment by the play of muscle beneath her fingers. “So, you don’t like the word cute, how about quaint? Is quaint better?”

“Quaint is a nice word,” Isabeau agreed.

Dominic stared at Rebecca, his eyes flashing. “You drive me crazy.”

“Good.”

He didn’t reply, just continued to look at her, torn between amusement and frustration. She wanted to forget they had plans and kiss that frustration away. Drag him back across the street, up those stairs and into his quaint apartment, peeling off his clothes along the way.

At just the thought, her hand involuntarily squeezed his bicep.

His eyes dilated.

Isabeau cleared her throat. “I have to get back to the house, so…” She motioned down the street, where her crossover sat at the curb.

“Right,” Dom said. “We’ll walk you to your car.”

“I think I can manage.” She took a few steps, walking backward. “I guess I’ll see you guys…later.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Rebecca assured her, ignoring the niggle of regret that she had to reign in her desire.

Chapter Fourteen

If Rebecca had to use one word to describe brunch at Isabeau and Noah’s it would be chaotic. Also surprisingly organized and
fun
.

Which proved there was no way to describe it in one word. How could she begin to? Musicians and their families, gathered around a table covered with more food than they could possibly eat in one sitting, joking and laughing like the loudest, albeit oddest, family she could ever imagine.

Just walking into the house had been an adventure. They’d barely stepped inside before the squeals of children and echoes of feet running on the hardwood floors hit them. Someone hollered about a dog then, sure enough, a barking ball of fluff rounded the corner, aiming for Rebecca and the freedom of the open door behind her. Hot on the pup’s tail came a young boy so intent on the chase, he appeared oblivious to the impending crash.

She managed to close the door in time, causing the pup to skid to a stop – or try to. The dog hit the brakes, paws slipping and sliding so that he skidded between her legs and smacked into the door. The boy wasn’t having better luck stopping. She braced for impact when Dominic reached out with one arm, snatching the boy off the ground.

He ruffled the child’s unruly mop of chocolate brown hair. “Hello David, still struggling to control that hairball? You don’t get yours cut soon, you’re going to start looking like the mutt.”

The mutt was actually a long-haired German Shepard if she wasn’t mistaken. Who, now that the door was closed, was jumping and nipping at his boy’s dangling feet.

“Look who’s talking,” David said, giving Dom’s hair a tug and causing Rebecca to laugh out loud.

Two sets of male eyes turned in her direction.

David tipped his head closer to Dominic’s. “Who’s that?” he whispered loud enough she was certain the people in the other room heard him.

“That’s Rebecca.”

He squinted like he was really checking her out, and she had to stifle another laugh. If she had to guess she’d place his age around seven or eight. “She’s got hair like a carrot,” he stated, still in that pseudo-whisper.

“I suppose she does.”

“I like carrots.”

Dom choked out a laugh.

Wiggling to get loose, David took off again the moment his feet hit the floor, and this time the puppy gave chase.

“Cute kid,” Rebecca said, smiling at the boy’s retreating back.

“That was David. He’s Nick and Tracey’s boy.”

Hadn’t Isabeau mentioned them the other day? “Nick’s the band’s…guitarist.”

“He is.”

A tiny girl of about four stepped into the entry, green eyes too big for her face focused on Dominic. He flashed her the softest smile Rebecca had ever seen, then promptly scooped her up when she lifted her arms to him.

“This little beauty is Katie.”

“And she is…?”

“Also Nick and Tracey’s.”

“Hi, Katie.”

Katie averted her eyes, and lifted her fisted hand toward her mouth, thumb sticking out like a straw. Dom intercepted the move with a skill that spoke of practice, his hand shifting to her back when she buried her face in his neck. “Katie is a bit bashful.”

Rebecca found the ease in which he dealt with both children very interesting. It was a side of him she wouldn’t have expected. He was just so beautiful. The black hair and blue eyes, his olive skin. He oozed testosterone at levels high enough that women went a little crazy around him. Her included. Add his career choice into that mix, the fact that his life was tour buses, concert halls and screaming fans? She’d honestly never imagined he could be so comfortable around children and puppies and…family.

“Becca?”

“Hmm…what?”

He was still holding Katie, and even though he was looking at Rebecca, he managed to intercept her thumb a second time. “You’re not thinking of making a run for it, are you?” A hint of humor flashed across his face.

“Why would you say that?” Maybe it wasn’t fair to have made such assumptions about him, but honestly, how could she have known?

“You’re looking a little shell-shocked and we haven’t even gotten to the scary stuff yet.”

Oh, she begged to differ. She’d never seen anything more terrifying than the man who stood before her right now. He’d been hard enough to resist without this bit of insight, now…resistance would be impossible.

“It’ll be okay, Becca.”

She wished she believed that.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

He did. Nick Saunders, the band’s guitarist, and his wife Tracey. Alex Morgan, their new drummer. She knew Noah and Isabeau, of course, but spending the afternoon with them gave her new insight into their personalities.

Nick was the dedicated family man, Noah the quiet leader. Dominic was the joker, and not surprisingly since they’d been best friends for years, one of the only ones who could pull Noah into a lengthy conversation. The youngest of them was Alex, who could only be described as a bit wild, a whole lot impulsive, and loud.

Then there was Isabeau. Although she appeared to be near the same age as Alex, she had a maturity that he lacked. She handled the large group, the noise and the upset, even the puppy piddling on her rug like she’d been made for the job. She kept up with the demand for food and drink while remaining an active part of the conversation.

A skill which Rebecca found impressive since she could barely stay afloat of the quickly changing topics.

Conversation rarely lagged and was often interspersed with teasing and laughter. No one was safe, everyone at the table being made the butt of a joke or well-meaning ribbing at one point or another, even herself. She found it all pretty amazing, really.

By the time they were done eating, she also found it all a bit overwhelming.

Which Dominic apparently noticed. Excusing them both, he stood, grabbed her hand, and pulled her out of her chair and toward the door below the staircase.

“Where are we going?”

He glanced back at her, his mouth slightly curved. “You were wearing your shell-shocked look again. I thought you might like to see the studio.”

“It’s like the ER on a full moon.”

He stopped at the top of the stairs, one hand holding the door open, the other holding her hand. Humor flashed in his eyes. “Are you calling us a bunch of crazies?” Bringing their joined hands to his chest drew her closer. “That’s what they say about a full moon, yes? It brings out the crazies?”

She racked her brain trying to come up with a way to explain herself that wouldn’t sound insulting, but couldn’t come up with anything. He arched an eyebrow, and she shrugged. “Listen, I didn’t mean…I mean, I guess that’s what I said but…”

A flash of amusement crossed his face. “Becca, don’t worry about it. We’ve been called worse, believe me.” Releasing her hand he motioned for her to precede him.

“I honestly wasn’t trying to be mean,” she explained, leading him to the lower level. “For a relatively small group, you sure make a lot of noise. That’s really all…” Her thoughts trailed away as she reached the bottom step. “Wow.”

The room they stepped into was similar in shape and size to the first part of the great room above. It even shared the wall of windows and view of the foothills. But there is where the similarities ended.

The floors on this level were hickory, the walls and ceiling, even the couch and chairs, white. At the far end of the room was a wood and glass door leading to the backyard, but oddly enough, every other door in the room – and there were three of them – were commercial doors. White metal with glass centers and slow closing bars at the top. The view through the doors was obstructed by drawn shades. “This is your studio?”

“Part of it. This is the lounge area, where we do a lot of the writing.” Dominic moved further into the room, and she followed, past a drum set and wall of guitars, some hanging and others on racks on the floor. He pulled open the only door on the left side of the room. “This is the gym.”