Enticing Interlude (Tempest #2) (17 page)

BOOK: Enticing Interlude (Tempest #2)
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Imposing with tons of chrome detailing, it was, even to the unpracticed eye of a novice like me, totally badass. I could certainly understand why Carter was so enamored with it, though it had gone against my better judgment to let him ride on it. But then somehow with Justin I seemed to repeatedly find myself in situations where I allowed and did a lot of things that I knew I probably shouldn’t.

But I was drawing the line here tonight.

A solid white line that I would not be talked into crossing.

I did
not
feel the need for speed.

“Oh, no, no, no.” I shook my head emphatically and stepped backward just as a smiling Justin sauntered forward, a helmet held out toward me. “We can go right back upstairs and get a taxi. I’ll pay. There’s no way you’re getting me on that thing.”

“It’s perfectly safe,” he insisted with a raised brow.

“Said the spider to the fly about the web.”

He continued to grin disarmingly.

“That thing scares the crap out of me.” I gave it to him straight, too straight probably. “Even more than you do.”

He came closer, this devastatingly distracting man, and I tensed. My hands formed into fists and I held my breath and held my ground while trying to ignore the temptation he represented with his tousled auburn hair, bad boy black leather jacket, and sexy, faded, outlining-all-the- good-parts, jeans.

He set down the helmet and leaned into me, his eyes glittering and his smile widening to reveal white teeth and a devilish dimple that winked at me from the right side of his mouth. The cocky bastard seemed well aware of the effect he had on me. “Why don’t we start out with the bike and we’ll work on alleviating those other concerns later, yeah?”

I knew from his flirty tone that he wasn’t really expecting a reply and this was a good thing because my throat was too dry to speak anyway. I stood statue still as his gaze drifted across my face. “The hair’s beautiful, baby, but not practical on the bike.” Eyes steady on his task, he removed his gloves and began sifting through my hair, finding and removing pins. Long strands fell whisper soft to my shoulders. I shivered, feeling like he’d just undressed me.

“I like it better down anyway.” His voice was a rough whisper and his eyes were darker when they came back to mine. I felt his hot stare in every part of my body. Then he licked his sexy lips, blew out a breath, lifted the helmet from the ground, set it on my head, tapped it into place, and tightened the strap under my chin. I remained still throughout the entire process, malleable putty in a master potter’s hands. I didn’t even protest when he led me back over to the black and chrome beast.

He threw his long leg over the bike with practiced ease and indicated that I should do the same.

“But it’s so big.” Finally, I found my voice though it came out an octave higher than usual.

My words elicited a masculine chuckle. “I hear that’s a good thing.”

My face heated and I rolled my eyes at the innuendo.

“Just keep your shoes on the foot rails as you step on,” he suggested. “And hold on tight to me once we get going. Relax. I’ll do all the work.”

I would never admit to him that his words brought to mind an entirely different scenario, one with me holding on tight to a naked Justin with tangled sheets all around us. I shook the erotic vision away, took a deep bracing breath, and climbed on.

The seat was surprisingly comfortable, the leather supple and cushioned. But the very best part was being so close to him.

I watched his firm rear lift off the seat as he released the kickstand and turned the handles to rev the engine. As it rumbled vibrating the seat beneath me, he settled back and glanced at me over his shoulder. “Give me your hands.” I did as I was told and his gloved fingers immediately tightened around mine. He brought my hands forward and tucked them under his shirt. His skin felt like warmed satin under my fingers. As we moved forward, surging up the ramp out of the garage, I linked my hands together and pressed them into his taut abdomen while at the same time tightening my thighs around him. It felt so good I let out a long contented sigh.

The beautiful nighttime scenery of downtown Vancouver barely registered in my peripheral vision as we sped across town and I rested my cheek on the smooth leather covering his shoulder. Sure I knew the air rushing over my skin was bitterly cold, and that the sharp florescent glare of the street lamps on the Granville Bridge hurt my night adjusted eyes, and that the ghostlike snowcapped outline of the Cascades hovered in the background. But quite honestly what I noticed most was the strength and heat of the man I held tightly between my arms and legs.

“We’re here, babe,” Justin announced after what seemed like only moments later, his gloved hand squeezing my clasped ones right before he dismounted. He removed his gloves and then my helmet. He grinned arrogantly at me as I continued to remain on the bike and he noted the dreamy expression on my face. “You liked it.”

I didn’t reply.
Were words really necessary?

He held out hands and helped me climb off.

The restaurant had big plate glass windows that faced the street. I peered up at the neon sign. Justin hadn’t told me where we were going for dinner, but I could tell it was Indian cuisine because of the enticing aroma of curry and cardamom that deliciously tinged the crisp night air. My stomach grumbled and my mouth watered in anticipation.

“In New York my sister and I started out working at an Indian restaurant,” he confided. “Vij’s is the best in town.”

“I love Indian food.” I grinned enthusiastically. “Do you think they have mango lassis and coconut pudding for dessert?”

“I think they can manage those sweets for the prettiest woman in Vancouver.” His seductive smile was back. “And anything else you want, baby.” He moved in closer, his chest almost touching mine as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. My skin felt like it was on fire where his calloused thumb touched me. I forgot all about food as I brought my hands up to rest on the cool surface of his leather jacket. He covered them with his own and squeezed. “We’d better get something to eat, beautiful. The way you were holding me on my bike’s got my mind on all sorts of other things that have nothing to do with getting you fed.”

My heart was beating so furiously I found it difficult to look away from the heated promise in his darkened eyes. Lucky for me he took over, once again twining our fingers together as he led me inside the restaurant.

We didn’t have to wait and were immediately escorted to an elegant table for two. Every chair was filled, and the restaurant was warm and the air fragrant with spice. That coupled with the steady murmur of conversations all around us, and the periodic flash and sizzle of fires from beneath twirling pans in the open kitchen created a cozy and relaxing atmosphere.

Once we ordered and I’d taken my first blissful sip of mango lassi, we eased into small talk. When I told him I was twenty-one, I was surprised to discover that he was almost an entire year younger than me. He had so much confidence that I’d just assumed he was much older.

I rested my chin on my hands as he talked. It wasn’t that what he shared was necessarily extraordinary. It was him. Justin seemed to be exactly the man he promised to be: kind, protective, and considerate. He treated me like I was the VIP and he was the fan. And boy was he good to look at, a veritable feast for the eyes, so arrestingly handsome that the gaze of every woman in the restaurant and even a few from the men strayed his way.

Time flew by and it was the first time since Carter had been born that I felt like a woman, a desirable woman instead of just a mom. When I got around to asking him how things were going with Tempest, his features hardened.

“Not as good as I’d hoped.” He raked a hand through his hair. “After the audition I was so stoked, but the reality of working together has been something else. Things are pretty tense most of the time, except maybe with Dizzy. It’s almost as if everyone’s holding their breath expecting me to screw up or afraid to invest any emotional energy in someone who might only be around for a brief interlude.”

“Give them time, Justin.” I leaned forward and squeezed his hand before I even thought twice about it. His warm gaze went from our joined hands back to my face. “They’ll find out they’re wrong sooner than later, I’d guess.” When he continued to look skeptical, I pressed my point. “I was there at that tryout, remember. The chemistry between you guys was indescribable. They’re lucky you came along. When you sing, it feels like you make the words come alive.” His eyes grew hotter. I could see that he liked what I was saying. A lot. I felt my cheeks getting warm.

“Thank you.” He moved his hands so they rested on top of mine. “I know I need to be patient, but that’s extremely hard for me to do, especially when I want something so much.” There was no doubt in my mind that he was talking about more than just the band right now.

My eyes burned brightly as he continued to stare at me. I found myself more and more easily falling underneath his spell. “From what Bryan and Lace have told me, I think anyone would have a tough time filling War’s shoes,” I continued. “You know that he and Bryan were best friends, right?”

“Yeah. Lace has mentioned that a few times.”

“Maybe if you tried to get to know them apart from work in a more relaxed setting, they’d let down their guard.” I ran my fingers through the wet condensation on my glass.

“That’s a good idea, one that I’ve actually considered. I just haven’t taken the time out to follow it through.” He shook his head as he looked at me. “You’re incredible, you know. Since you got here, you’ve been helping everyone else. You’re strong and resilient and have an incredibly big heart, Bridget Dubois. Those are just some of the many things I like about you.”

There he went again saying something so sweet that it stunned me speechless. Luckily, the waiter arrived just in time to spare me a response. We ate companionably together after that, with Justin offering me bites of food from his plate and me returning the favor. It felt intimate and romantic and before I knew it the food was gone and we were sharing that coconut pudding for dessert.

After I watched him take the last bite I finally asked the question I’d had on my mind for a while now. “You mentioned that you and Avery were on your own when you were only sixteen, but you never said why. What happened?”

“It’s a long story.” He set down his spoon and his expression turned guarded. “I told you my mom died when we were young. Well, my dad didn’t deal with that in a healthy way. He started drinking heavily, drowning his sorrows at first, I guess, but it quickly went beyond just the occasional bender. By the time we were in middle school, he was definitely an alcoholic, and he was a mean son of a bitch when he was drunk. Avery and I learned to avoid him when he was like that. We escaped in our music, and we looked after each other.” He stopped and looked across the table at me. “I’d really like you to meet my sister soon.”

“I’d like that, too.” I dipped my chin, feeling shaken and taking a moment to process what he’d shared. I had no idea. I’d mistakenly assumed that he and his famous sibling had an idyllic childhood. The reality was obviously far from it.

He gathered my hands in his, and my gaze settled back on him. I could feel the restrained tension in him and it transferred to me. I braced, knowing there was more and that it was worse. “Over time his sadness turned to anger and that anger turned physical and he directed it toward Avery and me. The pushes became open palmed slaps, then closed fists, then whatever was handy.”

His eyes had a depth of darkness in them, and I knew instinctively that the old wounds he was opening still felt fresh to him. “Most of the time I was able to keep him away from Avery when he got like that. But not the day we turned sixteen. He went too far.”

I swallowed back tears, sad for the boy it didn’t sound like he’d ever had the chance to be, but I don’t think he noticed. His gaze was unfocused, and he seemed lost in the memory.

“He came home hours earlier than we expected. Surprised us. Caught Avery and me rehearsing. She had my mom’s old guitar.” He pressed his lips tight and his eyes flared with intense emotion. “Music was always a big part of our lives when Mom was alive. She was a professional musician. But after her death, Dad didn’t allow any music in the house. The silence was deafening, the quiet almost as bad as the other stuff.”

He sighed, seemed to come back to himself, and his tone became more narrative and less emotional though his words were not. “He hurt Avery really bad that night. Scared the crap out of me. She ended up with a concussion and a couple of busted ribs. After that, I convinced her we had to leave. I couldn’t protect her from him anymore. Since I knew a guy who had moved to the city, we headed there.”

“New York City?”

“Yeah. We were more fortunate than most runaways. At least we had a place to stay. We found work right away at that restaurant I mentioned earlier. That kept us fed until we started making enough money at the clubs to focus on our music. We’d almost signed a deal memo with RDA when…” Justin stopped abruptly, his face changing and his eyes flickering with something I didn’t understand. Whatever he had been about to say, he stopped short of sharing. He waved the waiter over instead.

While he took care of the bill, I found myself sifting through the details. His childhood sounded horrific, worlds worse than mine. So I’d been abandoned emotionally by my father and mistreated by my stepmother and Richard. I didn’t consider the bruises Richard left on my arms from his shakes and shoves to be in the same category as the physical abuse Justin and Avery had endured at the hands of their father. No wonder Justin seemed older. He’d been dealing with cruel reality and looking out for his sister for a long time now.

 

 

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