Owned (Rockstar Romance) (Lost in Oblivion Book 5) (10 page)

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Having a family is the best. Knowing the person who gets you most is waiting for you at home is incredible. And Lexi’s walking and talking now, like a real little person. It’s the coolest thing to look at your kid and know even when you’re gone, a piece of you will live on. She’ll have all the opportunities I didn’t.”

Nick leaned against the bedpost, arching an eyebrow at the mutt as he shoved his big head under the bedspread. The dog was obviously woeful at being denied sex with a sexy canine babe. Nick understood.

He also understood what Deacon was saying. Better than he’d ever expected to.

“I get all that, but you didn’t want a boy? So much easier to deal with. No need to worry about shooting boys off the property, no hormones—”

“You mean shoo off the property, right?”

“No. I meant shoot. With large bullets. Like hell I’d let my girl be taken advantage of by some boy like—like—”

“Like you?”

“Pretty much.”

“Both sexes have their pluses and minuses. But I’m reasonably sure you didn’t call me to discuss that.”

“No. Actually, I wanted to know what plans you, Harp and Lexi have for Christmas.”

“You’re asking us to Christmas?”

“Is it that hard to believe?”

“It’s a little hard to believe, yeah. We haven’t talked since, when, summer?”

“Early fall. It hasn’t been that long,” Nick said stubbornly, ignoring Deak’s doubtful noise.

All right, so it had been a while. But he was trying. So Deak could try too.

“We’re in New York for the holiday. Me and Li and Simon and Margo, though they came of their own accord and I’m not sure how long they’re staying. But they’re here now. I asked Gray and Jazz and their miniature terror to come too.”

“Miniature terror. That bodes well for my child’s reception.”

Nick had to laugh. “Nah, I like the kid. We just babysat him and Axl—anyway, are you coming or not?”

“Same old Nick,” Deacon muttered. “Pleasantries? What pleasantries?”

“Hey, we did the whole conversing thing for like five whole minutes.”

“Truth. Yeah, let me talk to Harper and see what we can figure out. I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay. And uh, thanks. For the talk.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for the invite.” Deak paused. “It’ll be good to see everyone. To see you.”

Swallowing hard, Nick nodded, though Deacon couldn’t see him. “Yeah. Definitely. So get your scrawny ass out here, dude.”

Deacon’s laughter was the last thing Nick heard before he hung up.

“Hey there. Don’t make it easy on him.” Nick stroked Lola’s head and chastised, she tucked her lolling tongue back in her mouth. Maybe she’d finally realized playing hard to get would get her further.

Not that the mutt seemed to mind, since he kept sneaking peeks of Lola every chance he got.

Another quick check of his phone revealed no new texts from Li, so he sent her one more. Instead of peppering her with questions, he went with an always popular choice.

N
C
: You know what I want right now? Your pussy on my tongue.

S
atisfied that would get
Lila’s attention, he pointed at Lola, then at the mutt on the floor. The name he’d had rattling around in his head, Klepto, was going to stick, he was almost sure of it.

“All right, you two filthy beasts. I’m going to throw a couple of those fancy bath bombs in the tub and scrub the shit out of both of you.” He hooked the mutt by the collar and started half pushing, half dragging the dog to the bathroom. As expected, Lola trotted behind them. “And I don’t expect any lip,” he added, directing a look over his shoulder.

She sat back on her haunches and offered a paw.

“Con artist.” He continued hauling his charge into the bathroom, then turned on the warm water in the huge two-person jet tub.

Good thing he wasn’t a regular guest, because he was pretty sure bathing two wild animals would violate his room agreement.

Grabbing the bath bombs, he read the labels. Moonlight and Pearls. Hmm, sounded interesting, perhaps for him and Lila later. Assuming she’d get in the same tub where he’d washed down the dirtiest dog in the history of canines.

Half an hour later, both soapy dogs were crammed butt-to-butt in the tub. He was in the tub as well, wearing his boxers, a plethora of bubbles and so not a smile.

The mutt had taken to howling every time Nick tried to wash him off, and that included getting the soap out of his bleary brown eyes. The amount of woe on the dog’s face might have been funny if Nick didn’t have a paw-sized red mark on his inner thigh that did not come from rough sexual play with a woman. Nope, he’d consorted with a male, furry partner.

And not by choice.

For her part, Lola was much more dignified. She’d clearly been bathed a few times in the past, because she didn’t get all torqued about some bubbles and a towel. But Klepto? Holy shit. The pooch was a damn menace under the spray.

“Okay, that’s enough. You hear me now? E-fucking-nough.” Nick hooked a finger in Klepto’s collar and got in his face, setting off another round of earsplitting howls. But that didn’t put the cherry on his shit sundae.

Then Klepto flung out a big paw, flicking water in Nick’s face so hard that he lost his footing and fell on his ass in the soapy water.

It was Nick’s turn to howl. Considering he was already in frigging agony thanks to his fisticuffs with that jackass who used to be his best friend, Nick didn’t think his shriek was a reason to turn in his man card. In fact, he felt quite justified in giving in to a full-blown mantrum.

And it included quite a few curse words that Klepto had not been introduced to.

The last of them, “motherfucker!” he bellowed just as the door to the suite cracked open and a broad figure filled the space.

A broad
familiar
figure. Also known as the man who’d fathered the woman Nick had foolishly thought he might be allowed to marry.

Not bloody likely.

“What in the world is going on in here?” Fred Ronson demanded.

“
S
o
, you see, he was the one who stole the pies. Not me. I didn’t even get a single bite, never mind a whole da—I mean, darn pie.” Nick flashed a weak smile. “Darn good pie. Yum.”

Yum
? Good lord. His balls were shrinking by the nanosecond.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Honestly, he grabbed one, then I was trying to figure out what happened when he—” A smart musician could tell when he was losing his audience.

His was almost to Nebraska.

“I have no defense for the cigarette I put out on your floor. He had nothing to do with that.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Because of course, he’s a dog, and isn’t capable of such things. And I’m a grown man, who makes really bad choices.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“But I’m trying to quit. I swear I am. I’m actually doing much better. Except for high stress situations, I hardly ever even light up anymore. It’s only when I’m basically in emotional hell…heaven, I mean, that I even have a need to…imbibe.” Aw fuck, you didn’t imbibe cigs. They weren’t liquid. Jesus, he was so wacked out he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore.

“So you’re in emotional hell here. This nice, old-fashioned family Christmas causes you stress.” Fred sat back in the rocking chair next to the bed and crossed his ankles.

He was wearing argyle socks, for fuck’s sake. Nick had been sure those were a suburban myth. Who actually
wore
them voluntarily? Besides Fred anyway.

He tried not to wear socks at all if he didn’t have to, but in the arctic tundra that was Turnbull, New York he had no damn choice.

And he’d been asked a question, and instead of answering, he was dwelling on sock patterns.

“It’s not the family Christmas so much as other issues.”

“Issues like what?” Fred leaned forward and clasped his hands. Big hands, capable of strangling his daughter’s boyfriend without raising a sweat. “Like the ones that caused you to have that cut on your face, and the bruises, and God only knows what else? You’ve been moving around this room slower than I am and I’ve got more than a few years on you.”

“No.” Nick glared at his split knuckles. He’d taken care of them with some of the antibiotic stuff from Lila’s first aid kit but they still stung like a bitch. He should tape them up.

Later. Right now the pain centered him. Gave him something to dwell on other than how exactly he must look to his girlfriend’s father.

You think we should let her marry you? You gotta be kidding me.

“Did you run into a wall?”

“No. I ran into my best friend’s fists. Ex-best friend,” he amended, hating that it was still so automatic for him to refer to Simon that way.

“You mean Simon Kagan. His wife, Margo, is Leelee’s closest friend.”

“She’s not his wife.” That, too, was automatic. And dickish, but he was peeved and allowed to be a jerk while he was still wearing the guy’s ring print on his face.

“Hmm. I’d heard otherwise.”

“It’s a technicality. They committed, but they didn’t actually get married. Not the way I’d do it. In my book, you do the whole thing or you don’t do it at all.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

This guy was going to
mmm-hmm
him to death. “Look, anyway, I have to talk to you about other concerns. Simon is irrelevant.”

Or so he wished.

“Like what? Issues with Leelee?”

The nickname took him aback as it always did. “What? No. We aren’t having any issues.”

“Are you sure about that? I don’t want to pry, but you’re a rockstar. I imagine it’s been quite a change for you to settle down with one woman.” Fred scratched his chin. “You did settle down with her, didn’t you? You’re not doing one of those swingers’ lifestyles.”

Nick stared at him, horrified. “God, no. Are you kidding me? Lila? She’s never even had a—” He cut himself off before he used the word
threesome
.

This was going off the rails fast.

“We aren’t swingers, and we’re both extremely committed to this relationship.”

Fred peered at Nick over his glasses. “Is that so?”

Here you go. The time has come. Perfect opening.

“Yes, I moved into her apartment this summer.”

And…divert from airport. Perfect opening rerouted to land of suck.

Fred frowned. “Are you not capable of providing a place for the two of you to live? Have you squandered your assets?”

“No, no, of course not. There’s been no squandering. Most people think I’m a miser.”

“So you’re sponging off my daughter.”

“Absolutely not.”

He wasn’t, was he?
No
. He contributed. He paid bills. He bought stuff. When he thought about it, which, all right, could be more often than it actually was.

Dear God, he was a swinging sponge.

“Is that so? Have you thought about purchasing land?”

“For what?”

Fred sighed and directed his attention at the pair of now mostly dry pooches sleeping in a tangle under the windows. “Why is that dog wearing my Lola’s collar?”

“So I could drag him around easier.” It was Nick’s turn to sigh when Fred sharply glanced his way. “Look, I’m not an animal abuser. I haven’t bought land for your daughter. I’m also not a poet. I haven’t written her sonnets, and I probably have sponged a little, without realizing it. But I have bought her this.” He stood up and pried the little black box he’d been toting around what felt like forever out of the pocket of his jeans. Without hesitation, he popped the top and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“This is an engagement ring. I’d like to marry your daughter.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He hadn’t been prepared for that one. “I, uh, love her.”

“You, uh, love her? Could you possibly put a bit more emotion behind that statement?”

“Yes, I fucking love her and I want to spend my life with her. I may not be the best guy in the world but I’ll be the best guy for her because I won’t ever let her forget for a minute that she’s
my
world.” He took a breath and tipped back his head to stare at the ceiling. “It will be my life’s work to make her happy. If that means paying the cable bill, then fuck yes, I’ll pay it. I mean, hell yes, sir.”

At the silence that extended, he chanced a look at Fred and found him smiling.

“That’s much better. I have to say, those weak answers you gave me at first had me worried. I trust Leelee’s judgment but you weren’t giving me much to work with, boy.”

Before Nick could process all that he’d said, Fred rose and moved to the door, then called down the hall. “Laverne, could you come in here, please?”

Nick scratched the back of his neck as he snapped the box shut and pushed it back in his pocket. He promptly pulled it back out again, because hello, Fred wasn’t summoning Laverne for a square dance. Or hoe-down. Or whatever they did when they blared country music and people linked arms and kicked up shiny boots.

Shit, he’d probably need to dance for the wedding.

He’d already dragged out his phone and typed in ‘dance lessons available south of Mulholland Drive’ when Laverne marched in and grabbed his arm. He gawked at her until she held out her doughy hand. Literally doughy. The woman seemed to wear a light dust of flour at all times.

“Let me see the ring.”

Nick placed the box in her hand and she tipped back the lid. And gasped.

That was a good sign, right?

“Black pearls and rubies and diamonds. This is exquisite.” Laverne raised her head and pinned him with a look that made his fingers spasm around his phone. “You love my Leelee.”

“Yes. With all my heart.”

“Good. Then yes, you may marry our girl. Preferably soon, because she wants babies.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she cocked her head, eyes narrowing shrewdly. “Unless that’s a problem for you, Nicholas.”

Her usage of his full first name made him grin in spite of everything. It was such a Lila move, and hell, he had to admit he was damn fond of Laverne. She’d created the world’s most perfect woman as far as he could tell. And he still thought that after months of living with her daughter, including when she had PMS.

No doubt about it, he was done for.

“No, it’s not a problem.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been reading up.”

Laverne’s brow furrowed. “Reading up on what?”

“You know, pregnancy, exactly how it works.” Nick circled his fingers. “The process.”

“Boy, if you don’t know the process by now, maybe we should rethink this whole marriage thing.”

“Shh, Fred.” Nick raised an eyebrow as Laverne giggled like a teenager. “Not every man is as natural of a learner as you were.”

Nick grimaced. His good feelings immediately started circling the crapper as thoughts of Lila’s parents doing the nasty infiltrated his brain.

He was ready to be done with the talking portion of the evening, thanks. The celebration part could start anytime now.

Preferably naked celebrating because his balls were shades of blue no man should ever endure.

“Laverne, do you mind giving me and the boy a few minutes alone?”

“Sure thing.” Laverne returned the ring to Nick and smiled indulgently when he clasped her hand. “Don’t worry. He likes you.”

“How can you tell?” Nick asked more than a little fearfully.

“No chew marks on your throat yet. But these marks…” She traced a finger over the cut on his cheek. “You need to be seen to. I’d offer, but I’m sure Leelee will once she’s back.”

“If she ever comes back,” he muttered, instead of the ‘I can see to myself’ that was on the tip of his tongue. Truth was, he’d rather if Lila dressed his wounds and gave him a few stern looks while she kissed away his aches.

Besides, he’d so be down with seeing Li in a nurse’s outfit.

“She’ll be back soon enough. Thank you for loving our daughter.” Before he could speak, she swept him up in a hug. “We always wanted a son.”

Stunned, moved, beyond speech in every way, he swallowed hard. And searched for his voice. “What about Martin?”

It wasn’t Laverne who answered, but Fred. “He lied to us. Lied to Leelee, and that’s worse. You aren’t anything like him. What you lack in polish you make up for in honesty. I’ll take honesty any day.”

“Me too.” Laverne smoothed Nick’s hair away from his brow. “Now that isn’t to say we won’t kick your ass if you dare hurt her. Even a little bit.”

Nick’s lips quirked. “Understood. I won’t. I’ll try not to,” he corrected as Laverne’s steady gaze roamed his face. There was no telling fibs to those perceptive blue eyes.

Lila’s eyes.

“I believe you, or else we’d never give you our blessing.”

“You are? Blessing me, I mean?” Nick glanced from her to Lila’s father. “Or does that come after he reads me the riot act?”

Laverne laughed and patted his back before she released him. “No, you’re already blessed. No riot act needed if you never made it past the threshold.”

Stepping back, she dusted off her hands. “Whelp, I’m back to my pies. We’re a bit behind what we need for tonight.”

Nick winced and tucked the ring box into his pocket. “About that—”

Laverne waved him off. “You’re a growing boy. Just make sure you keep your fingers off the new ones until our guests eat their fill. Happy Acres is known for satisfying appetites, not sending people home hungry.”

“Yes, ma’am.” On impulse, he leaned in to hug her again. “Thank you,” he said, low enough that only she could hear.

She smiled and left him alone with her husband.

Fred pointed at the bed. “Sit.”

Nick sat.

“When do you plan on having this ceremony?”

Nick frowned. “I don’t know. I kinda figured Lila would figure out that stuff. She’s the girl.”

“No kidding.” Fred rolled his eyes. “Are you thinking sooner or later?”

“Sooner. Definitely sooner. We’re going back on the road as soon as we finish cutting the album, and I’m thinking that’ll be by fall at the latest. We haven’t been apart more than twelve hours for the past year. Any trips Li had to take, I went with her.” Nick rubbed at the layer of calluses on his index finger. So many hours of work had gone into those ridges. He’d earned them.

Once they’d been a badge of pride. Now they just reminded him that he had more in his life than Oblivion. More than just his guitar to keep him going.

“I want to make our promises before then. So she knows, so she’s absolutely certain, that nothing will ever come between us,” Nick finished quietly.

“You don’t think she knows that already?”

“I hope so. I know we’re on the same page, relationship-wise. But she’s a planner. She wants a family. It’s time I stand up and be that man for her.”

Even as he said it, he heard Deacon’s level voice in his head. He’d spoken about taking one step at a time, which made total sense. Except every single one scared the shit out of Nick.

These weren’t tiny ones. Not baby ones, pardon the expression.

More like huge and life-changing.

He knew less than nothing about how to be responsible for someone other than himself. Even back when Simon partied his ass off and needed a keeper, the responsibility of dragging his drunk ass home and pouring him into bed had most often fallen to Deak. Nick had precisely zero good role models to look up to as far as how to be a caretaker for someone who depended on him.

His mother? She’d stuck around until her kids were in second grade, then she’d split faster than a tree under an ax. His father? Yeah right. He’d been a decent dad until Nick’s mother had left. After that, he’d fallen completely apart. So what if his young kids had no one else? He’d been present in spirit if not in mind or heart, and he’d put food on the table.

Nick and Ricki had grown up leaning on each other, until eventually Ricki had found something else to support her. Something destructive.

So he’d turned to music to hold himself up.

Li didn’t need some artificial prop. She was so strong, so capable in every way. She wasn’t one of those women who couldn’t make a decision on her own. On the contrary. In the time it took Nick to blink, Lila could take over the world.

Fuck, he admired her. And he loved her. Spending the rest of his life with her would be an honor. As for the rest of what came with that—if the cards shook out that way for them—well, one step at a time.