Protecting His Assets (10 page)

Kyle, upon glancing up and discovering he was being visually dissected by a broody, brawny baseball player, faltered on the strings. He frowned and lifted his hand in a half wave, as if he recognized Chase from The Platinum Club. Or maybe he was trying to make friends with the alien life form? Either way, Chase wasn’t having it. His mouth curled into a sneer.

A very sexy sneer, but a sneer nonetheless.

“Kyle, this is Chase. He’s one of my childhood playmates,” she said in her most saccharine sweet voice. Even without looking at him, she could tell by Chase’s instantly rigid posture he didn’t appreciate her assessment of their relationship. Well, too bad. Let him stay in Queens where he belonged and stop nosing into her business. “Chase, this is Kyle, my number one string man.” Kyle was in a committed relationship with his hotter-than-Hades boyfriend, but Chase could take that statement any way he wanted to.

She strode away without waiting for a response from either of them. It was time to get ready for the show, which meant warm-ups in the back hallway nearest the exit where the acoustics were the best. It was also humid as hell back there, and the proximity to the bathrooms wasn’t ideal, but a girl had to get her
sang
on where she could.

Chase followed. She could practically feel his warm, minty breath on the back of her neck, causing a shiver she couldn’t control. But she picked her chosen spot in the hallway anyway, closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

She went through the scales, focusing on breathing from her diaphragm and exerting the muscles in her stomach until they burned. Once wasn’t enough. She went through them methodically for several minutes, ignoring the footsteps that clomped past her and the occasional whispers or muttered comments. The whistle she assumed was aimed her way made her smile, but she didn’t open her eyes. This was her job, and she took it seriously.

Besides, if she didn’t look around, she couldn’t see Chase watching her. Evaluating. Probably finding her lacking.

To him, she was nothing more than a wild little girl on the run who couldn’t take care of herself. Nothing quite so hot as feeling like you needed to hold out a burp cloth for somebody. And in her case, he’d yet to even stop supporting her head. She hated behaving like a teenager stuck in an endless tantrum loop, but God, he pushed her buttons.

Especially that big, pulsing one between her legs.

Oh no, oops, that was just her favorite fantasy. Except he didn’t use his fingers. He used those delicious full lips, always one twist of derision away from a smirk. That conceited expression shouldn’t have been a turn-on. The breath she’d carefully conserved for her scales also shouldn’t have immediately wheezed out of her upon turning her head and catching him staring.

Shoulda, coulda, nothing. He did it for her. Always had, always would.

He cocked his head and braced one sneakered foot against the wall, his green eyes barely glittering slashes in the dim light of the hall. “You know how birds sing no matter how small their cage?” he asked, his voice sandpaper rough. “That’s you. Your voice is huge.”

“I have to project in case the acoustics aren’t—”

“It’s a compliment.”

She didn’t know how to respond, so she looked down at her boots while her pulse beat a primal rhythm in her throat. Her vocal cords seemed to throb with her nerves. With her excitement.

For the show, yes. But not only the show. Chase was here, and even if she tried to force back the urge, she’d be singing for him.
To
him. In her music, he wouldn’t turn her down. He couldn’t. That was the one place she felt sexy beyond compare.

“I’ll be right down front.” The words were laced with something low and throbbing, or else she couldn’t hear him clearly through the haze of her own need. Singing always brought her emotions to the surface, and having him so close in such a confined space was wreaking havoc on her libido—and her heart. “If you need me, pull your braid. If anyone gets too close, or makes you uncomfortable, give me that signal and a directional like this.” He pressed his finger to the side of his muscled thigh. “I’ll figure it out.”

“You really don’t have to do this. This is such a mellow place. Really. I’ve performed here several times and I’ve never had a problem.”

“Don’t fight me any more on this, Summer. I’m staying.” And what he didn’t say, but came through loud and clear in his expression:
work with me
.

So she would, because she really did appreciate having a friend around. He had a busy life, whether or not he was playing ball, yet he’d taken the time to find out where she was and go there to make sure she was okay. He was a good friend, when he wasn’t being an ass.

“Thank you for coming.” The words came out more softly than she’d intended, but he nodded.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

While she pondered
that
enigmatic statement, he walked away to take up his post in front of the stage.

After a moment, she followed. Looked like she’d gotten herself a bodyguard, whether or not she wanted one.

Chapter Five

Another Saturday, another show. Another session of sublime torture.

Though this would only be the second evening since Chase had started guarding Summer, he’d already realized that he might be in over his head. His saving grace was that he spent limited time in her sphere. Two hours max per night, so far only once per week. No biggie.

So he wanted her, just like every other guy who glimpsed her singing her heart—and all the rest of her—out. Unlike them, he wouldn’t allow himself to even make a play. He had to keep her safe and that took precedence over everything else. Distractions weren’t a weakness he could indulge.

She still offered token excuses why she didn’t need security. She was fine, she knew martial arts, she needed to be close to her fans. All well and good, but he wasn’t letting her fans be that close to her. End of story.

Besides, why should they get fringe bennies he didn’t? Hell, he even tried not to breathe in too much of her apple scent. Fruit had never turned him on to that extent before. Maybe he’d investigate some kind of nose plugs.

Her shift at Triple Scoop was due to end at four, and Chase agreed to pick her up at her place at five before their drive into the city. He ended up getting done with PT early and to fill up some time, went to half of an AA meeting, which he counted as a victory despite being gently scolded by the group leader for taking off before the end. Since he usually split before introductions were finished, he figured he’d made solid progress. That left an afternoon of doing nothing and more nothing or bothering Summer and his sister.

Naturally, bothering his favorite two females won.

Plus he’d have supervision in the form of Cass. She wouldn’t let him even look at Summer, never mind touch.

When he strode into the ice cream shop at just past three, they were both assisting customers. Cass helped an elderly woman choose between rocky road and peach melba and Summer appeared to be selling a guy about her age some chocolate sauce. The dude seemed way too interested in the silky mint fudge for Chase’s liking, and as he put his newly developed stealth skills to work by edging up behind them, he realized why.

“Oh yes, I guarantee you’ll enjoy it. The flavor is very subtle and the mint offers a slight tingling sensation on the tongue.” Summer chuckled and tipped her head, letting a dark wave fall across her cheek. “Or other places, your choice.”

“Wow, really?” Grinning Dude braced an arm on the shelf of assorted ice cream related paraphernalia just above her head and leaned close. “Tell me more.”

Like hell.

Chase stepped forward and took a moment’s delight in the way Summer’s eyes went wary and wide. He knew the look of someone trying to close a deal and she had it. She also flushed, a sure sign she’d been using her considerable feminine wiles to hawk his sister’s sauce.

As much as he appreciated her entrepreneurial spirit, he’d just put a swift end to
that
.

“Hi there, kids. Can a guy get some service around here or should I come back later?” Chase asked, clasping his hands behind his back. He wasn’t gripping them to keep from dragging Summer away as if she were his favorite piece of meat. An evolved male like him? Never.

“Wait your turn,” No-Longer-Grinning Dude snapped.

“I don’t think so.” Chase inclined his chin toward Summer. “Ma’am? Do you think you could help me?”

“I doubt it.” She exhaled and faced her customer. “Would you like me to bag some of the sauce for you to go? I can include samples of—”

“No. Never mind.” Aiming a sour look at Chase, the customer shook his head. “Don’t think I need any tonight.”

Chase shifted away to study the shelf of glass serving dishes and suppressed a smile at the sound of Positively Miserable Dude’s retreating footsteps. The door thunked shut with a jaunty peal of bells.

He didn’t get long to revel in his victory.

“What is the matter with you?” Summer punched him in the arm—the left one, of course—and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid grimacing. She had quite a right hook. “Do you have to scare off paying customers?” She dropped her voice half an octave. “What are you doing here now? It’s not time yet.”

“Time waits for no man when it comes to the search for willing pussy.” He used the frank language intentionally, hoping to send her scurrying behind the counter to where Cass still chatted and laughed with Mrs. Finster from across the street. He hadn’t recognized her at first without her usual frizzy blue wig.

But Summer didn’t scurry. In fact she stepped closer and used that same hand on the shelf trick as Grinning Guy had, adjusting for the height differential. “I didn’t realize you were in need.” She visually accosted Chase’s groin. Said groin responded inappropriately by stiffening and searching for a stroking hand to go with her caressing look. “If I’d known you’d be stopping by early, I would’ve skipped the panties.”

She sashayed away before he’d rolled his tongue back in his mouth.

He rubbed the vague knot in his forehead. Maybe he should’ve stayed at his AA meeting.

“Chase.” Cass hurried up to him, apparently having divested herself of Mrs. Finster. “What’re you doing here?” She also glanced down his body, but stopped at his elbow. “Are you okay?”

“It hasn’t miraculously healed, if that’s what you’re wondering.” To soften his rebuff, he strolled to the glass-fronted case and scoffed at the sheer volume of choices. He was so proud of the business his baby sister had built, but teasing her made up the brightest part of his week. “What happened to plain old chocolate?”

“You came all the way from the city to get something boring?” She didn’t let him answer before she encircled his waist. “I’ve missed you, you big lug.”

“You talk to me on the phone.” But he pressed a kiss to her hair and hugged her back before drawing her away and frowning. “You’ve lost weight. You’re not dieting again, are you?”

“No. I’m surrounded by sugar and cream and fat every day. What would be the point?” She laughed and squeezed him before heading behind the counter. “Did you say hello to Summer?”

“Yep.”

“I hope you were friendly.”

“Aren’t I always?” A rueful smile touched his lips at their last exchange. “Don’t answer that.”

Rather than respond, Cass adjusted the pink and purple straws she’d arranged in her bright red bun. Instead of looking ridiculous, on Cass it seemed fun and perky.

Perky
. Fuck him, he was losing it. If he didn’t get laid soon, his dick would spontaneously turn into a vag.

“So, what, you came all the way down here for a bowl of plain chocolate with a side of white chocolate chips?”

He glanced around to make sure the shop was still empty. Summer had yet to return from the back room or wherever she’d disappeared to. “You still have those mini ones?”

“Sure thing. I keep a special stash for my big brother.” She opened a narrow tube at the side of the ice cream case and white chocolate chips overflowed her hand like a sugar addict’s jackpot. “Waffle bowl?”

“I shouldn’t. I’m training.” At her questioning look, he sighed. Someday he’d have to admit PT didn’t count as conditioning. Like right now when he could have a waffle bowl of pure chocolate goodness. “Ah, hit me.”

“Now you’re talking.” Cass grinned, on the verge of doing his bidding when Summer sauntered out, her apron folded and tucked under her arm. “Look who’s here,” Cass said over her shoulder.

“So I saw.” If Summer’s tone got any drier, he’d offer her some grapes and cheese. A fine wine had nothing on her. “Pack up his little snack to go, if you don’t mind. I’m heading out and he’s coming with.” Already anticipating Cass’s question, she shot him a glance and added, “He can fix my shutters. They’re loose. Practically swinging in the breeze.”

Somehow that imagery made him consider what else could be swinging in the breeze if she really had been sans panties—particularly the sweet globes of her ass. Not that they would be swinging, per se. They were too firm and tight. “Do I look like a handyman to you?”

“Don’t think you want me to say what you look like.” Her cheerful reply floated over him as surely as that damnable apple scent she gave off when she sailed past him. “Add some of the raspberry-mocha-white-chocolate sauce to the bag, if you don’t mind. Catch you tomorrow, Casstastic.”