Rock The Wolfe (6 page)

“No, I drink it. Coffee, tea, whatever. I’ll be there shortly.”

No good-bye. He just hung up.
Great
. She tossed her cell on the table. Kerri had been thinking most of the morning and concluded it would be for the best if she ended this before it went any further. This man had baggage. She had enough of her own to tote around. Besides, weren’t these artistic types flighty and unpredictable anyway? Especially rock stars. Trouble with a capital T.

Sexy with a capital S.

Staring down into the brown, murky depths of her tea, she scowled. Kerri knew the real reason she wished to nip it in the bud. She didn’t want to be hurt. All their talk of keeping it casual had been delusional, at least on her part. The sex had opened up a vast expanse of emotion she’d never experienced before. Besides being stunning, the man turned out to be entirely likeable. Adorable, even. A man she could be good friends with. Hell, they were halfway there already.

Hanging out with him was—fun.
Face the truth girl: you don’t want this to end. Wait and see what he says
.

A sharp rap came at the door. Wolfe Phelan had arrived. As she padded toward the front entrance, she kept repeating her mantra.
Keep cool, and keep distant. Protect your heart
.

The vision of him standing before her nearly buckled her knees. Dressed in tight, black jeans and a black shirt, he looked fresh pressed and sexy. The long sleeves were rolled up to show enough of his tats to tease in a tantalizing way. This man had it going on. What he saw in her, she didn’t want to explore. She didn’t fit the mold of a rock star’s girlfriend. Damn, maybe that was what appealed. Or perhaps the fact she was the only female on this road under the age of fifty. Who cared? She stepped aside and let him enter.

Once back in the kitchen, she poured him a mug of tea and sat opposite, watching him add milk and sugar. The spoon hit the side of the mug as he stirred; the sound resonated in the room.

“I’m heading to Toronto this afternoon.”

Well. The sensation of a lead weight squashing her heart settled in her chest. So much for a couple of weeks together. She tried to respond, but her throat wouldn’t work.

“I need to see my therapist. Look, I’ve been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress syndrome with a side order of acute stress disorder. It’s why my group busted up and my marriage, too, for that matter. Believe me when I tell you I grieve the loss of my guys more. I had a dependency on Ativan, which resulted in a small overdose situation. I’m a fucking mess. I came here to chill out with my parents. I didn’t count on meeting you.”

Kerri blinked in confusion. “What’s meeting me got to do with anything?”

He gave her a look of incredulity. “I nearly kicked your door in last night, I wanted you that bad.”

“And that’s a terrible thing? Do you know how incredibly sexy that is? What sane woman wouldn’t want a gorgeous man in such a desperate state? To know she’d whipped him into such a frenzy? Priceless beyond measure.” She hesitated.
Might as well dive in the deep end of the pool
. “Take me with you to Toronto.”

Wolfe shook his head. “I have to do this alone.”

Okay. That stung. She didn’t really expect him to agree, but his declaration hurt worse than she’d thought it would. Swallowing down her disappointment, she decided to let it go and changed the subject.

“You’re getting counseling, which is a good thing. You’re already on the mend. What small overdose situation do you mean?”

Wolfe squirmed in his seat. The discomfort in speaking of this showed on his tense, handsome face. One thing she’d learned in her short acquaintance with him, everything he felt reflected in those large, beautiful eyes.

“One night, desperate for sleep, I took about nine of the fuckers. Kevin—I told you about him—he found me in an agitated state. He took me to the hospital. They pumped me out. It wouldn’t have been fatal, but it proved to me I was in a bad way. Since then I’ve been in intense therapy.” He took a sip of tea, and then placed the mug on the table. “I don’t think I’m ready for anything permanent.”

Kerri frowned. What in hell was he talking about? He’d considered something of permanence between them? Blood rushed through her ears, causing a buzzing sound in her head.

“You were the one that said we would keep this casual. A few weeks at most.”

Wolfe looked up at her. The conflicting emotions flickered on his face and showed in the depths of his golden-brown eyes.

“It’s moved beyond that for me, and we should wait until I’m feeling more myself before we explore this further.”

A pain tore through her heart. “If everyone waited until everything was one hundred percent copacetic, no one would be together! Hell, I’m not running at one hundred percent myself!”

Her voice ended on a shrill, emotional note. Not what she wanted to convey. Tears threatened, but she blinked them back. The fact he’d confessed what existed between them had moved beyond casual should thrill her to her toes. Instead, a sense of loss settled in her soul.

He reached across the table and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. God, she loved it when he did that.

“So it’s no longer casual for you, either. I hear it in your voice and I’m pleased. I thank you for these last few days. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is not to be as numb. But the fact remains at this time: I’m not ready.”

He let go of her hand, and the urge to grab it and hold on was palatable. He hung precariously from a cliff, needing someone to reach out and be a lifeline. How she wanted to be his rescuer, his protector. She’d never had those instincts toward anyone who wasn’t family before.

Wolfe stood. “I have to go. I’ll be gone a week, maybe more. I have your cell number. I’ll call.”

Sure you will
. Kerri’s heart splintered into shards. This hurt worse than she could’ve imagined. Had she fallen for him? If Wolfe’s leaving stung to this extent, then she must have.
Oh, no
.

She nodded. What else could she say?

Wolfe walked out of the kitchen and out of her life. When she heard the front door slam, she stood and ran to the fridge. Taking out the package of hot dogs and grabbing the buns from the bread box, she tore them to bits and stuffed them in the garbage and then kicked the can for good measure. A toxic mixture of resentment, hurt, and misery rolled through her.

No holding back. She buried her face in her hands and cried.

Nine days passed, and Wolfe hadn’t called. Had she really expected him to? He’d never given her his number. Three nights ago, after downing a couple of Bailey Irish Cream’s on the rocks, she’d nearly pressed redial on the last call he’d made to her, but she’d chickened out at the last minute. Did not want to give the impression of a desperate, clingy woman. He needed time. She would give it.

Kerri had herself convinced she would never hear from him again, yet other times, she felt that he would be back in touch, and very soon.

She’d spent the last few days reading and relaxing and doing online research on Ativan and acute stress disorder. Neither was anything to fool with. The late actor Heath Ledger had popped up in her Internet search on Ativan. Seemed it was one of the drugs suspected in his death. Scary stuff. She believed Wolfe when he stated he was free and clear of the addictive prescription.

She had gone for a walk every day, lengthening the distance each time. As she sauntered by the large ranch Wolfe’s parents lived in, she’d spotted a man in the yard, trimming hedges. Must be his father. Tall and broad-shouldered, he looked like a fine specimen, but it was hard to tell at a distance, as the ranch was set back a piece from the road.

Kerri’s cell phone had not left her sweaty fist since Wolfe departed. She took it everywhere. She did not want to miss his call. If he ever made one.

Curled up in bed, she picked up her dog-eared copy of
The Lincoln Lawyer
and began to read. The phone buzzed on the night table. Scrambling, she picked it up and answered without looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Kerri.”

The husky cadence vibrated through her body.

“Wolfe. I’m so very glad you called.”

She could almost feel his warm smile through the phone. She could become a harpy bitch and call him on the carpet for not contacting her before now, but that wasn’t who she was. Besides, Kerri had the feeling he’d experienced enough of that in his marriage. He hadn’t said much, but he alluded to the fact Janice hadn’t supported him, or sympathized with his plight. Instead, she had cheated on him or demanded that he “snap out of it.” She would not be that woman.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“In bed, reading Michael Connelly. Missing you.”

No playing around. She would tell it like it was and damn the consequences.

Silence hung between. Perhaps she had revealed too much….

“Christ, I miss you, too. I’m going to be here for another ten days or so. Just wanted to let you know,” he whispered.

How tempting to ask how he was doing, but she decided not to. She recognized a slight tremble in his voice, which spoke of his current vulnerable state.

“So, what are you doing?” she inquired.

“Listening to music. Bon Jovi’s on right now.”

“I love ‘Wanted: Dead or Alive.’ That guy never seems to age.”

“It’s easy to look good in your fifties when you have a portrait in the attic.”

She couldn’t stop the roll of laughter from leaving her throat.

“Very good, an Oscar Wilde reference! I’m impressed! Maybe Bon Jovi’s next tour should be called the ‘Dorian Gray Rock Road Trip.’”

Wolfe snorted. Oh, God, it sounded so good to hear him have a carefree moment.

“You make me laugh. I love it.” He paused and sobered. “On a serious note, I want to apologize for my behavior. Running off like a coward is not my thing. And I’ve done it more than once with you. Not sure how to explain, if I even can….”

Her heart clenched at his heartfelt words. “Wolfe, you don’t have to explain yourself with me, ever. Well, at least not right now. When you’re ready. Know I’m here for you.”

She meant what she said. Sure, it had hurt when he’d left. She’d cried as she hadn’t in many years, but she had no desire to tear Wolfe a new one.

“Damn, I’m glad I called. Can you do something for me, before I go?”

“Anything.”

“Remove your underwear or sweats or whatever. Do it now.”

His voice was commanding and insistent. She liked it. Wriggling her hips, she removed the leggings and tossed them to the floor.

“Done.”

“Lie down, spread your legs, and put your hand on your pussy. Find your clit. Rub it for me. Do it now.”

Naughty
. She did as he asked. With each stroke she grew wetter, and she didn’t remain quiet. She moaned softly and Wolfe groaned in response.

“Move the phone down so I can hear the sounds. Insert a couple of fingers. Move them in and out. Let me hear how wet you are.”

She did. Her hips lifted as her hand moved faster. She moved the phone back to her ear.

“Yes, baby. So wet. I’m fisting my cock, stroking it, imagining you finger-fucking yourself. Rub your clit with your thumb.” She groaned in response to his demand. “That’s it.”

She could hear him jerking off, skin slapping in his hand as his moans grew in intensity. A burst of color exploded behind her eyes and she let loose a scream that could blow out the window. A gruff growl followed on the other end of the line.

After a few moments’ silence, Wolfe regained his steady breathing.

“Pack an overnight bag, Kerri. Tomorrow morning, come to me. We have to talk.”

“I thought you needed more time?” she answered breathlessly.

“Fuck that. I need you more.”

He gave her the address, and she grabbed a pen from her night-table drawer and scribbled it down in the back page of her book.

As they said their good-byes, Kerri sat, stunned beyond belief. With the cell phone still tight in her grasp, something shifted deep inside her. Her heart began to hammer at a fast rate. A fluttering feeling moved through her, settling in her stomach. At that moment she knew. She had fallen in love with Wolfe Phalen.

***

Sipping his coffee, Wolfe leaned on the railing of his balcony and glanced down at the teeming city life flourishing all around him.

From the vantage point of his luxury penthouse condo, he watched the Toronto Blue Jays taking batting practice at Rogers Centre. With the roof open at the stadium, he had an unfettered view. Boats sailed by on nearby Lake Ontario. He had to admit, the view was as magnificent as advertised.

He had fought Janice on this purchase. He desired a more private, rural setting. But she’d nagged, saying it would be a good investment. Well, she’d been right on that point. He’d bought it three years ago at around nine hundred thousand; the real-estate agent told him yesterday even though prices had dropped in the Toronto area, she could sell this right away for a cool one-point-three million. Raising his coffee mug, he silently saluted his ex-wife. He would make a tidy profit and would not have to share it with her, thanks to the prenup.

Wolfe turned and walked back inside. The place had been emptied out when Janice left. She whined she’d wanted the furnishings since she had gone to all the trouble of decorating the two-thousand-square-foot condo. He’d been too weary to argue, and what did he care about a few chairs and paintings? All that remained in the living room was his leather recliner. She’d even taken the television and end tables. The window coverings, too. If it would’ve made her leave any quicker, he would’ve allowed her to rip up the wood floors and take the light fixtures.

Why she had insisted on a condo with a gourmet kitchen puzzled him, as she couldn’t boil water. He wasn’t much better. He could cook eggs, a steak, open a can without slicing his finger off. Other than that, he hadn’t eaten much lately, the proof showed in the way his jeans hung loose on his hips. The doctor had told him he needed to put on fifteen pounds to be at a healthy weight for his six-foot-three frame.