Love Song (Rocked by Love #2) (9 page)

Luke approached her. He'd
been a huge help all day long, doing anything that needed to be done.
"Need anything else from me? If not, I'll go join the guys out
front."

"One of my models
got sick." She bit her lip and looked him up and down. Different coloring
than Jacob, but a similar enough build. "You guys are about the same size.
It could work..."

"You want me to walk
down the runway?" He shook his head and laughed. "I'm not a
model."

"Please? You'd be
perfect. And I need you. I'm already short a few guys. I need to balance it
out."

"I can't say no to
you, not when you look at me like that..." He gave her a begrudging smile.
"All right, I'll do it. But no makeup."

She threw her arms around
him and squeezed him hard. "Thank you. I owe you."

He threaded his fingers
in her hair and gently pulled until her lips met his. Soft, warm, and a hint of
mint. His taste was already so familiar. His tongue traced the seam until her
lips parted and he groaned as she brushed into his wet heat. Audrey's fingers
teased the back of his neck and she snuggled closer.

A throat clearing behind
her, followed by a tap on her shoulder, brought her back to reality.

Renee stood, hands on
hips. "Clock's ticking, guys. Come on, Luke, I'll show you where you can
change clothes."

He reluctantly loosened
his hold on Audrey. "Man, the guys are going to have a field day with
this..."

Audrey checked once again
on the models' progress, fixed a last-minute stitch for Vanessa, and then
answered a few questions from reporters.

Owen threaded his way
toward her. Audrey immediately glanced around for Luke, relieved when she
didn't see him. "Hi, are you looking for Vanessa? I think she's back in
make-up."

"I wanted to talk to
you."

"Oh? Is something
wrong with the clothes you bought?" She'd spent a few hours with him
earlier in the week, talking design, trying to find out what would suit him
best. She'd found him to be smug about his band and vocal talents but he
definitely seemed to care about Vanessa, and that counted for a lot.

He shook his head.
"Clothes are fine. Great quality. Look, you seem nice enough but hanging
around Luke is a mistake."

Taken aback, she blinked.
"Luke may be a little gruff but he's a good guy."

"He's an asshole. A
failure. And failing is contagious."

She didn't appreciate him
coming into her space and talking about Luke that way. Hands on her hips, she
glared at him. "It's really none of your business. I can take care of
myself."

Brow raised, he shrugged
and then sneered. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"I'm not going to listen
to you insulting Luke. You should probably take your seat out front. We're
going to be starting soon." She felt a lot better when he walked away.
Maybe his concern came from a good place, but neither he nor Luke were innocent
in their feuding. He couldn't fault her man for everything.

 As time ticked down, she
directed people to scatter so the models could line up. She'd put Luke last in
line to give him enough time to get ready.

The music began, a
thundering beat to set the tone. One by one, the models processed across the
stage, then down the runway in dramatic fashion.

Ready or not, the show
had begun.

***

Luke
waited at the side of the stage. Stage lights—fine. A crowd watching him—not a
problem. But singing was one thing, walking a runway was another. As the other
model came up the runway and exited stage-left, Audrey nudged his arm.
"Now."

The spotlight rested on
him. Luke walked across the low stage, then turned onto the catwalk. The runway
was only a foot about the floor. He could step off it and walk right into the
crowd. The music changed—his cue to stroll down. One foot, then the other. He
didn't smile because models on the runway never smiled. Plus, he didn't belong
there. He felt like an impostor, but he'd do anything for Audrey. Halfway down,
he spotted his band sitting at the end. Zander, Brendan, and Landry all
grinned, calling out suggestions and encouragement, and taking pictures.

His skin heated. Damn it.
Scowling, he did his best to ignore his band.

When he reached them,
Brendan jumped up and held up his phone. "You clean up nice, man. Take a
pic with me? The fans will go nuts."

"Sit down." But
he paused for a second to let Brendan get the shot he wanted. And then came the
easy task of walking back. When he reached the edge of the stage, he turned and
waited with the other models.

Audrey made her way
across the stage, shining in a bronze dress sprinkled with sequins and a tiny,
shrunken black leather jacket that fit her like a second skin. She didn't walk
the runway, but stood in the center of the stage. Applause burst in waves from
the crowd, and Luke joined in. He followed the other models as they formed a
line behind her across the stage. Pride for her filled him to bursting.

And then, the runway
portion and his brief career as a model were over.

Backstage again, he
waited as she thanked each model individually. Then she turned to him and
slipped her arms around his waist. "You did a great job. Thank you so much
for filling in."

"Anything for
you." He bent to kiss her. "I'm so proud of you."

Someone called her name
from across the room. She drew back. "I have to go."

"Have fun, work that
room. I'll find you after the party." He let her go and went in search of
his band mates.

Music flowed and lights
shimmered, wait staff worked the room with champagne and food, and the models
mingled with the attendees. People stood in small clusters, smiling, talking,
drinking, eating, and best of all, complimenting Audrey's clothes.

Zander and the guys stood
by the stage. Luke dodged a few people admiring one of the models and came face
to face with Owen.

Shit. He'd managed to
avoid the jerk earlier and had hoped to get through the day without crossing
paths.

"Good for you,
finding a fall back career." Owen set his empty glass on a passing
waiter's tray.

Luke's promise to Audrey
echoed in his head. He would
not
get sucked in. "Fuck off."

"You'll need a new
career, after the way you screwed up your last tour. That arrest for drinking
while boating—which I found funny as hell, by the way. Then the bar fight, and
then you no-showing to that concert. Class act stuff. I shared those headlines
around as much as I could. Did you notice that? Just like I'll share the next
one. Because there will be a next one. Face it, you're a fuck up, and you're
going to fuck up this Furious Records idea too. I can't wait to see you
fail."

Don't give him the
satisfaction
... Luke crossed his arms over his chest.
If they were crossed, he couldn't punch the bastard. "Do you spend all
your time focusing on me? I'm flattered."

Eyes narrowed, Owen
stepped into Luke's space. "Don't be."

"Back off,
man."

"You going to make
me?"

Hands itching to fight,
anger pounding in his veins, Luke turned away. To his right, Vanessa strode
toward them, probably rushing to run interference. She stepped into a small
puddle of spilled wine on the floor. Her foot slipped forward and her body
swayed backward and her eyes went wide.

"Hey." Luke
moved fast, grabbing her arms. Her hands landed on his shoulders, pulling at
the fabric.

Once he'd righted her, something
hard slammed into the center of his back. "Keep your hands off her."

Pain bloomed and radiated
to his arms. Luke spun to face Owen. "Maybe if you'd been paying more
attention to her, I wouldn't have had to save her."

"Fuck you."
Owen's fist flew forward, heading for Luke's face.

Luke threw up his arm to
block it, and then countered with a left hook. "Asshole."

Owen's head snapped back,
and then he launched at Luke, grabbed him by the waist and tackled him.
Concrete slammed into his back, winding him. Owen's fist connected with his
jaw. Luke's teeth clacked together. Hopefully, it wasn't broken. He grappled
with him, throwing his full weight, and succeeded in reversing their positions.
He landed a few quick jabs to Owen's ribs.

Footsteps and shots echoed
around them.

"Stop it!"

"Luke!"

Anger burned through his
veins. Goddamn Owen. He'd been waiting for an opportunity to smash his face for
years. They rolled around on the floor. Owen sputtered curses as he landed
blows, blood dripping from his nose. Luke's jaw ached, his hand hurt, and
breath burned in and out of his lungs, but he shoved back hard, giving as good
as he got.

Strong hands grabbed his
shoulders and hauled him away from Owen.

"What the
hell?" He jerked his head around. Zander and Brendan held him in a tight
grip.

A few feet away, Landry
and a security guard had a similar grip on Owen's shoulders.

Zander leaned in.
"You okay? What the hell happened?"

The silence blanketing
the room was deafening. Then the click of heels sounded. A single pair, making
their way in his direction.

Luke turned toward the
sound.

Audrey.

And she looked as upset
as a drummer who'd just had his sticks broken.

Audrey
stood between Luke and Owen. Noise from their altercation had pulled her away
from a discussion about creating designs for a new all-woman rock band. When
she'd heard the first crash, she'd thought someone had fallen. When she'd heard
the shouts and scuffling and Luke and Owen snarling at each other, dread and
worry had taken hold, until anger had overtaken everything.

Aware of every eye in the
place focused on her, she squeezed her fists until her nails threatened to bite
into her palms. The pain helped her keep her voice even. "Luke and Owen,
let's clear this matter up in the dressing room. Everyone, please enjoy the
party. Fresh champagne will be circulating shortly."

Music resumed and Renee
gave her a nod as she passed. "I'll handle the crowd out here, boss."

In the dressing room,
Audrey whirled to face Luke, supported by Zander and Brendan, and Owen, still
restrained by Landry and the security guard. Vanessa, Irisa, and Jayne filed in
behind.

"You have two
seconds to tell me what the hell happened out there."

"He touched my
girl." Owen shrugged away from his restraints, but Landry, Zander, and
Brendan still blocked his access to Luke.

The muscles in Luke's
arms tightened like he anticipated an attack. "Her
arms
. Preventing
her from falling. And you know that's true."

"Luke's right."
Vanessa's soft voice was a huge contrast to the booming argument.

"And that turned
into you beating each other out there?" Audrey shook her head. "I
really don't want to hear any more. Owen, I think it's best if you leave.
Vanessa, thank you for working today's show. You don't have to stick around
until the end."

Owen pushed his way out
of the room, flipping off Luke one last time. Vanessa made quiet apologies and
exited behind him. The security guard followed, murmuring he'd watch over the
pair until they vacated the building.

Audrey took in Luke's
disheveled state. He had red marks on his face, Owen's blood on his shirt, and
a rip at the knee of his left pant leg. "And you. What the hell? Can't you
control your temper? You don't settle arguments that way."

Rubbing his jaw, Luke
glared at the door Owen had exited. "He started it."

"Oh for—" She
pushed her hair out of her face. "Are you kidding me? 'He started it?'
This isn't a playground fight. This is my business, my livelihood, and you
ruined my show. I don't care what kind of history you guys have. You've embarrassed
me in front of my current clients, possible future clients, and the
media."

His shoulders lifted and
then he glanced at the ground for a moment before rubbing his hand over his
neck. "I'm sorry."

"You promised
me." The words whispered out, as shaky as her hold on her tears. She'd
told him how important the show was to her. "You promised you would get
along."

"Sunshine,
listen—"

"Please leave."
She couldn't talk to him. Not now, not here. Too many emotions swirled and too
many people hovered. She would not create another scene.

"Audrey."

She held up her hand,
held him away. "Leave. I really can't talk to you now. I don't want to say
something I'll end up regretting."

"But—"

Something inside was
threatening to shake loose. She'd either burst into tears or bust out a punch
of her own. Her muscles shook with the effort to control herself. "Luke, I
really need you to leave me alone."

Brendan placed his hand
on Luke's shoulder. "Come on, bud. Let's go."

Zander flanked his other
side, gently easing him away. "Let's get you back to the hotel and cleaned
up."

Landry joined them.
"You need ice and pain relievers. You're going to feel like hell in the
morning."

When the door closed behind
Landry, Audrey turned away, breathing deep. Hurt, anger, embarrassment, and
annoyance fought for dominance.

"What can we do to
help?" Irisa stepped closer, but still kept some distance.

"I need to go out
there and mingle and get people to talk about the clothes." Not at all
what she felt like doing. She could barely wrap her head around what had
happened.

Irisa closed the distance
between them and hugged her. "It'll be fine. We'll help. I've been
promoting your clothes for years. Jayne has worked with bands that have worked
with you, too. She can attest for how amazing the clothes look on stage."

"True." Jayne
smiled and walked toward the door. "Now let's sell those clothes."

Two hours later, the
party had ended, the models had gone home, and Audrey sat in her studio with
Renee, Irisa, and Jayne. "They ruined my show. All anyone wanted to talk
about was the two of them."

Renee glanced up from
rearranging some fabric swatches. "There's no such thing as bad
publicity."

"Really? Because the
domestic violence program's director didn't seem too thrilled with what had
happened. She said I'll hear from her by Monday. I have a feeling I can kiss
that partnership goodbye."

"You don't know that
yet." Renee was determined to be an optimist.

"I think so when
people are mostly going to be talking about how two famous rockers turned my
show into their own boxing ring. Screw the clothes, let's focus on the fact
that these two idiots have a new item to add to their feud." Seething,
Audrey scrolled through mentions of the fight from several media outlets.
"See? It's already happening that way. And the fact that I'm involved with
one of them? That my own boyfriend doesn't even respect my wishes enough to
control himself?"

"That's the real
reason you're angry." Irisa put her hand on her shoulder. "I love
Luke like he's my own brother. There have been times he's done things that make
me want to throttle him, but underneath it all, he really is a good guy."

"He wouldn't set out
to deliberately hurt you either." Jayne played with the heart-shaped
pendant dangling from her necklace. "I think you'll end up getting more
business. Most people who attended will feel sympathy for you because of it,
and may double the number of pieces they were planning on purchasing. And on that
note, there are three designs I saw that I'd like to buy for myself, and four
more that I think would look amazing on Zander."

"Oh," Renee
waved her hand. "I want that light pink dress with the leather and
studs."

"Me too," Irisa
chimed in. "And I want you to custom-make Dom's and the groomsmen tuxes
for the wedding. You can do that, can't you?"

Her mood lightened and
Audrey couldn't fight the beginning of a smile. "Guys, how am I supposed
to stay angry when you're being so nice to me?"

"You're not."
Renee tapped her on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go out and celebrate a
successful show."

"Successful?"

"Okay, let's drink
wine and go dancing and forget about our men."

"I'm in." But
it would take a hell of a lot of wine and a hell of a lot of dancing to make
her forget.

***

After
a restless night in his lonely hotel bed with a bottle of pain reliever and
guilt as his companion, Luke trudged down to the hotel's restaurant for
breakfast with the band. The guys had hung out with him for most of the night,
keeping him calm enough that he hadn't gone looking for Owen or done anything
else stupid, and keeping his spirits from dropping too far into black. He
needed to talk to Audrey, had taken his phone out several times to call her,
but her request to be left alone had stopped him from dialing every time.

Not in the mood to talk
to anyone else, he pulled his baseball cap low and entered the restaurant. The
band crowded around one round table in a sectioned-off nook. Grateful for the
privacy, he joined them. Landry and Brendan sprawled on one side of the table,
with Irisa, Zander, and Jayne on the other.

He nodded at their
greetings and eased his body into the open chair between Brendan and Jayne. His
back, knee, and side exploded in pain. Goddamn Owen.

His throbbing muscles
protested as he reached for the pot of coffee at the center of the table.
Knuckles swollen, he couldn't even grip the handle. "Fuck it," he
muttered.

"Let me," Jayne
said, taking pity on him and pouring the steaming liquid into his cup.

"Thank you."
His jaw hurt, but he could talk without too much soreness and his beard mostly
hid the large bruise blooming there.

She set the creamer and
sugar by his cup. "How are you feeling today?"

"Like I was in a
fight."

Brendan passed him
platters of eggs, toast, and bacon. "You look like you lost it, too."

"Funny." He
smirked and slid a portion of the food onto his plate. It would probably taste
like chalk, given his mood, but he'd eat.

"Actually, it's
not." Irisa set down her phone. Her lips pressed together and she pinched
the bridge of her nose. Her soft sigh cut into him. "Your scuffle went
viral. I've received tons of calls and emails. My phone has been burning up
since it happened."

His too. He closed his
eyes for a moment, agonized to become her problem child once again. "I'm
sorry. Send them my way. It's my fault, so I'll deal with it."

"No. That's my job.
But you can make a public statement if you'd like. In fact, you should. We can
work on it after breakfast."

"Thanks. Without
you, I'd fuck up the apology, too." His glanced back and forth between
Irisa and Jayne. "How was Audrey last night?"

"Upset."

"Angry."

Guilt tripled. All
through the night, he'd berated himself for letting himself be goaded. He
needed to make it right. "I know I screwed up. Goddamn Owen. Once he hit
me, I couldn't hold back. The one thing she asked me to do, and I couldn't
fucking keep it together for her."

Jayne's hand covered his.
"Throwing a punch after he threw one at you is reflex. You were protecting
yourself. Cut yourself some slack."

"You're too nice to
me sometimes."

"And you're being a
little too hard on yourself. People make mistakes. You'll make it right."

Jayne was one of the most
forgiving people he knew. Even after all that had happened between them. He
swallowed against the thickness in his throat, gently squeezed her hand, and
leaned into the table to catch Zander's gaze. "You really lucked out with
Jayne."

"I know."
Zander wrapped his arm around his fiancée's shoulders. "You haven't spoken
to Audrey yet?"

"Not since she told
me to leave her alone. Once my public apology is live, I'll make a private
one... if she's willing to hear me out."

"A little groveling
is good for the soul," Jayne reminded him.

He nodded. "It might
take more than that."

Two hours later, he stood
on the front steps of Audrey's building. When she answered the buzzer, he
wished there were a camera so he could see her. Especially if he ended up
apologizing from the stoop. "It's me. Can I come up?"

No response. Was she
ignoring him or coming down to chew him out? He reached for the buzzer again as
the outer door unlocked. The knot in his stomach eased then tightened again. He
still had to apologize and she still could throw him out at the end of it. The
short climb to her floor seemed to double in length.

Before he could knock,
her door opened. He stepped forward and stuck his foot in the threshold in case
she tried to slam it in his face.

Red-rimmed, puffy eyes
met his. A gray tank top and black yoga pants hugged her curvy form. She wore
no makeup, no jewelry, and no welcoming smile. The down-turn of her lips
crushed him. He'd done that to her. He rolled his shoulders in prep for the
battle that lay ahead. "I'm sorry. I keep screwing up with you."

Her gaze dropped to the
bouquet of yellow gerbera daisies in his hand.

"Here." He held
them out. "They reminded me of you."

"They're
pretty." She brushed her finger over a petal but made no move to take them
from his hand.

She was so listless.
Panic spanned out from his core. He needed a reaction from her—anything, even
fighting with him. He blurted out, "Can I come in?"

She squared her
shoulders, nodded, and opened the door wide enough for him to enter.

He laid the blooms on the
coffee table, then shoved his hands in his back pockets and wandered further
into the room. The bed, draped in the soft, romantic curtain, teased at
something he might never have again. Would she tell him they were through? He
breathed in deep, once, twice, and then turned to face her. "I tried
yesterday. Really, I did. Even when he started provoking me, I didn't take the
bait. But when he threw that punch... well, instinct kicked in. All the history
and bad blood between us clouded my better judgment."

Hands clasped, she stood
by the couch. "If I'd realized the extent of how much you guys dislike
each other, I would've asked you to stay away from the show."