Outsider (61 page)

On
the way to the airstrip, Reagan called her dad to tell him goodbye. She wasn’t
sure how reliable her phone service would be in Europe, so she might not
connect with him for a while. Which reminded her—she was going to Europe! She’d
have celebrated her sudden excitement by running around in circles and dancing
the cabbage patch, but she was sort of strapped down in the passenger seat of
Trey’s car.

“I
thought you’d be gone by now,” Dad said when he answered. “Thanks for
remembering to call.” His voice was low. Sad. She was pretty sure she knew why,
but she asked anyway.

“Did
you hook up with Mom after my union ceremony?”

“We
had a nice time.” His tone was defensive. He obviously was no longer having a
nice time.

Reagan
clenched her hand into a fist. Why did Gwen have to invite her mother to the
happiest day of her life? Just because Reagan had had a piece of paper in her purse
with the woman’s number on it didn’t mean she wanted to be in contact with the
home-wrecker. Of course, if Gwen hadn’t called her mother, Dad might have never
agreed to unite his only daughter with two men, but Reagan just couldn’t
forgive that woman for the damage she’d done to her childhood and to her dad’s
entire existence.

“I’m
sure you had a great time. Until she left you
again
. Dad, when are you
going to learn?”

“Never.
The heart wants what the heart wants.”

Reagan
couldn’t deny that truth. She just hated that her mother hurt him so deeply and
that he kept going back for more. But he was right; the heart wanted what the
heart wanted. And as her gaze settled on Trey beside her and then on Ethan in
the back seat, she knew her heart had exactly what it wanted.

“Have
a safe trip, tiger,” Dad said. “Call when you can.”

“I
will. Be sure to eat regular meals, Dad. I worry.”

“I
don’t want you to worry about your old man,” he said. “I want you to take the
world by storm. People across the globe will be completely blown away by my
amazing daughter, Reagan Elliot. Mills? Conner? What are you going by these
days?”

She
laughed. “Just Reagan.”

“I
love you. Don’t let all those men push you around.”

“I
won’t. You raised a tiger, remember? Rawr!” She curled her fingers into a claw
and swiped at the dashboard.

“I
remember. Bye now”—he sniffled almost imperceptibly—“my little tiger.”

She
hung up, wishing he was there so she could hug him before embarking on her next
journey.

Trey
squeezed her knee. “I’m glad you and your dad are getting along. Family is
important.”

She
smiled and ran a finger over the phone in her hand. “Especially when it’s
always been just the two of you.”

“I
have a few extra brothers you can borrow at any time,” Ethan said, reaching
over the seat and patting her shoulder.

“You’d
just force me to take Juan.” The ornery little cuss. She couldn’t deny that she
adored him despite his tendency to say whatever was on his mind. Or maybe she
liked him because of that.

“Mamá
would let you have Carlos too,” Ethan said with a laugh.

“She
seemed to enjoy his trumpet playing after our union ceremony.” And Ethan had
nearly crushed him to death with a hug when he’d discovered Carlos had come to
show his support despite his obvious and continued discomfort with his Ethan’s
lifestyle.

“Well,
you can’t let him know that,” Ethan said. “That’s her little secret.”

“I
bet you twenty bucks that he ends up playing at the grand opening of her new
restaurant, just like Juan suggested,” Reagan said.

“I’ll
take that bet,” Ethan said.

Reagan
figured she’d soon be twenty bucks richer. Rosa was proud of her sons, all
seven of them. She was particularly proud of the one who’d put his BHPD application
on hold for three months so he could be at Reagan’s side for the duration of
Exodus End’s world tour.

Trey
turned into Dare’s drive, and after being let through the massive wrought-iron
gate, drove around to the back of the extensive property where Exodus End’s
private jet was kept. The last time Reagan had been on the sleek plane parked
on Dare’s airstrip, she’d joined the mile-high club with Trey. Maybe she’d
renew her membership with Ethan today. She couldn’t imagine all three of them
fitting into the small bathroom near the back of the plane, but she was willing
to give it a go if they were up for it. They’d had to put their honeymoon on
hold until the tour was over, so they’d yet to have their sexual fill of each
other. Not that she imagined they ever would.

After
stowing her own luggage beneath the jet, Reagan left Trey and Ethan with the
rocker-styled copilot to figure out where their bags would fit. She climbed the
steep steps, smiling at the lovely pilot who greeted her from the cockpit.

As
Reagan slid past Steve with her carry-on bag, he said, “Free at last.” He
crossed his ankles and stretched his arms to the ceiling before folding them
behind his head.

“Which
woman are you escaping this time?” Reagan teased as she plopped down on the
sofa behind him.

“No
woman. The band took a vote last night—after this tour we are ditching the
record label.”

“Max
agreed to that?”

She
glanced around the small luxurious jet and saw that while Dare and Logan had
already settled into their seats, there was no sign of Max.

“He
was outvoted. Dare finally came over to our side.”

“Numbers
don’t lie,” Dare said.

“But
Sam Baily does,” Logan said.

“Did
you get the results of the audit already?” Even as she’d been concentrating on
her romantic life—and mess—while they’d been on break, the band had focused on
finding out just how deep Sam Baily’s hands were shoved into their pockets.

“Preliminary
ones,” Steve said. “Enough to convince Max that he. Was. Wrong.”

“Don’t
be a dick,” Dare said. “There’s no reason to rub it in his face.”

Reagan
was curious to know what that audit had revealed, but knew they couldn’t
disclose the information due to a clause in their contract. It was no wonder
Steve had always fought to free them from that paper shackle; it completely
ruled their lives. How would the band change after they found a new path, one
that didn’t involve Sam Baily?

Reagan
didn’t have a vote on any of the band’s deeper issues—she was still an outsider
and okay with that fact—but she felt bad for Max. He wanted to hold on to their
roots so tightly that he was afraid to leave the ground, even when the soil
where they’d planted those roots was corrupt and toxic.

“Max
is coming with us, isn’t he?” Reagan asked.

“Of
course,” Steve said. “He’s a little put off now, but once he sees how far we
can go on our own, he’ll get over it.”

There
was also the chance that without a huge publicity machine behind them, they’d
fall into obscurity.

“Can
I sit by you?” Toni asked, nodding at the empty space beside her that Reagan
had reserved for Trey or Ethan. The long sofa did have four seat belts, so
there was plenty of room for her.

“Um,
sure,” Reagan said. “I figured you’d want to sit by Logan. It’s a long flight.”

“He
said he wants to take a nap.”

“It’s
your fault I’m so tired,” Logan called out, as usual completely focused on
whatever Toni happened to be doing. He slapped Steve’s thigh. “She kept me up
half the night teaching her about butt plugs.”

“For
you or for her?” Steve asked, peering around his seat at Toni, whose face was
cherry red.

“Both.”

“No
wonder you want to sit by me,” Reagan said. “Your boyfriend has a big mouth.”

Toni
sank onto the sofa next to Reagan. “He has a wonderful mouth.” She pulled a
notebook out of her bag. “I thought we could work on my article to pass the
time.”

Reagan’s
stomach twisted into knots. She was allowing Toni to write this article for
Trey and Ethan’s sake, she reminded herself. She wanted people to know the truth
about their relationship. There would be backlash—of that she had no doubt—but
she could get through anything with Trey and Ethan by her side. As if they knew
she was thinking of them, the pair boarded the plane, Max behind them.

“That’s
everyone, Jordan,” Max said to the pilot as the copilot brought up the rear and
secured the hatch.

“Ah,
good,” she said, her crisp British accent carrying through the interior of the
small jet. “My schedule is only partially shot to bloody hell then.”

Max
took the front-most captain seat next to Dare, while Trey and Ethan settled on
the sofa beyond Toni.

“The
rest of my band has to take a commercial flight,” Trey said with a snigger.

“With
those Baroquen harlots we met in New York,” Steve said. “After this tour we can
pick whoever
we
want to open for us.”

“Let
it rest,” Max said quietly.

Reagan
was surprised when Steve did exactly that. She guessed he figured he’d won a
battle he’d been fighting for years. Best to take Dare’s advice and not rub it
in.

The
takeoff went smoothly, but before they’d even leveled off, Toni flipped open
her notebook and held her pen poised above a blank page. “So,” she said, “how
should we begin?”

Reagan
looked over Toni’s shoulder at the two men discussing which type of dog made
the best pet—Trey was partial to golden retrievers, and Ethan loved a well-trained
German shepherd. Both stopped talking to look at her, as if sensing she needed
them. She did. She always would. She smiled and shifted her gaze to Toni.

She
knew exactly how to start the article that would let the world know she was
blessed beyond comprehension.

“Loving
two men is a lot easier than you’d imagine.”

I
thought I should start this note by explaining why it took six extra months to
write
Outsider
. One of those months was spent sitting at my mother’s hospital
bedside while she was in a coma, hooked to a ventilator—when I say she nearly
died, I’m downplaying all she went through in January. I would not give up on
her, and I was at that hospital every day to make sure the doctors and nurses
didn’t give up on her either. The next two months I spent assisting my mom with
her recovery after open-heart surgery and her weakness from being comatose for
so long. Soon after she was
mostly
on her feet again, they found a spot
of cancer in her lung. It was caught early by some blessed health care worker who
took a closer look at the X-ray of Mom’s new heart valve. So Mom’s next medical
adventure was radiation therapy treatments. We’re still waiting to find out if her
cancer is in remission. We’re hopeful. What else can we be? I’m not a skilled
enough author to convey the relief I feel that I get to be with my mom—my best
friend and greatest champion—a little longer. Because even if she lives to be a
hundred and twenty, it won’t be enough time with her.

During
those four months of hell and happiness (She survived. That’s the happiness
part.), I didn’t write a word. I couldn’t. And when I did start writing again,
I spent two additional months trying to remember how to lose myself in a sexy, fantasy
rock-and-roll world when reality had become much too vivid for this
prefers-to-live-in-her-head author. But I’m back on track now and ecstatic to
have finished this book.

Outsider
started as one of the
wedding stories in
Sinners at the Altar
. If you’re interested in the
original, which would have been called
Choose Your Illusion
, it’s now
chapter thirty-six of
Outsider
. When I started writing
Choose Your
Illusion
, I found myself explaining a whole lot of backstory to get the
reader up to speed on what happed to get our happy threesome to the point of settling
for a man-and-wife marriage, and I thought, jeez, there’s so much backstory
here, I could write an entire book about it. So I did.

As
always, it takes more than an author to publish a book. I’d like to thank my
editor, Beth Hill, who never complains about taking all those commas I stick in
the wrong places and putting them in the spots they belong. She’s a rock star.
I’d also like to thank my beta reader and dear friend, Cyndi McGowen. She’s
also a rock star. I’d use other verbiage, but to me “rock star” is the best
compliment I can give a person. Special thanks to advice-giving rock stars Evelin
Rodriguez and Jerry Maese for their assistance with Spanish and also helping to
make Ethan’s wonderful Mexican-American family more realistic. Thanks to my
close, personal rock stars Sean Davis and Sommer Darnell at Vulpine Press for
all their hard work and putting up with my mood swings. Thanks to Charity
Hendry, design rock star, for another fantastic cover. And thanks to my Mom for
still being strong when she was at her physical weakest. She’s the greatest
rock star I know.

More
Sole Regret stories are heading your way soon, as well as Sed and Jessica’s
honeymoon story,
Lost in Paradise
. Next up in the Exodus End series is
drummer Steve Aimes’ story. Can he make a Baroquen woman whole again or will he
just piss her off?