Rage (10 page)

ant!” She groaned as he scampered up onto her as if he were

king of the mountain.

“Mamma. Milk!” He yelled in her face, and she grabbed

him and rolled him off of her tickling him. Cheyenne approached

them, gracefully balancing two Sippy cups.

“Bout time you got here.” Cheyenne nudged her knee. “We

got in at nine a.m. We slept some on the plane, but everyone else 59

TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

went off to take naps. That was one brutal flight.”

“Tell me about it. Cedric and I flew in from Panama City to

Recife yesterday. Then we had to spend the night before we

could catch the puddle jumper here. Be happy you were on a pri-

vate jet.” Steph laughed as Liam got in her face, effectively

blocking Cheyenne from her view and sticking out his tongue at

her. Steph tackled him onto the couch again. “Where’s Scot?”

Cheyenne nodded toward the dining area. “Having a drink

with David. Want one?”

“Very much so. Let me check in first.” Steph picked up

Liam and threw him over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

Cheyenne snatched up Steph’s bags and followed her to the

desk. The chauffer was hanging around smiling at her, and Steph

assumed he was angling for a tip, but when she tried to give him one, he waved it off. The staff was incredibly efficient and spoke excellent English. They told her the chauffer was Enrique and he worked for them. He took her bags from her with a wink and in

no time Steph, Cheyenne, and Liam turned the corner into the

dining area.

Steph couldn’t contain her smile when she saw Fury’s bass-

ist, Scot and drummer, David sipping drinks at the end of the

bar.

“D.J. Dave!” She cheered and David was on his feet and

hugging her so suddenly it took her by surprise. David still

looked like an old time movie star. Short hair, clean cut—he al-

ways seemed somewhat out of place in a rock band. But Steph

knew that when he held sticks in his hands, no one would ever

question that he belonged behind a drum kit.

“Steph, thank God!” he uttered in a hushed and panicked

tone. “Yara said she’d call the whole thing off if you didn’t

come.”

“Like I wouldn’t come when you guilt tripped me into it.”

She replied emphatically. Cheyenne and Scot both raised an eye-

brow. An evil grin played on David’s movie star face.

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“I told her she owed me. For teaching Yara how to swear

like a sailor in English.” Cheyenne and Scot both nodded. While

Fury was touring America, Yara had spent a great deal of time

hanging out with Steph and Cheyenne.

Steph rolled her eyes and swung Liam around by his arms.

“It’s cool. I’m here. Who am I rooming with?”

“Kara. Our nanny. Liam might spend a night or two with

you, if you know what I mean.” Scot shot her his perfectly

straight toothed smile and a wink as he wrapped his arms around

Cheyenne.

“Working on another one, are we?” Steph joked.

Cheyenne cringed visibly. “No way in hell.”

Scot looked stunned at her reaction as David finished off his

drink. Steph seized this opportunity to segueway into another

topic.

“What are you two drinking. and why don’t I have one?”

“Caipirinhas, of course.” Scot tossed some cash on the bar

and waved the bartender over.

“When in Rome. .” David agreed with a fidgety shrug.

Steph took the seat next to him.

“Where’s your bride-to-be?” she asked, patting him on the

back. David was rarely troubled, so his stricken expression made her nervous. He definitely looked like he could use a few more

drinks.

David heaved such a deep sigh that his shoulders rose and

fell dramatically. “At the spa. Daily facials, so she’s pimple-free for the ceremony.”

Steph nodded and wrinkled her nose slightly. Having spent

her pretty much her entire life photographing the world’s most

desirable people, she wasn’t phased in the least. She felt for him.

But this was the life of a soon-to-be husband of a Victoria Secret model.

“I’m taking Liam back up to Kara. I’ll be back in ten.”

Cheyenne took Liam by the hand and headed in the direction of

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the stairs to the neighboring building where Steph, Kara, and the bridesmaids were staying.

Steph and the two musicians exchanged silent looks. She

squared her shoulders. “Ok. Say what you need to say. Just get it over with.”

David and Scot exchanged an unreadable look of their own,

and Scot spoke. “Steph, your choices are yours. I have nothing to say except I’m sorry, because it would have been cool to have

you as a part of our dysfunctional family.”

David nodded. Steph thought he looked like he had a lot

he’d like to say, but when he spoke, he was brief. “Me too.”

The bartender returned with her lime garnished drink, and

she accepted it in silence. Scott nodded to the outer door. “It quit raining. Let’s go outside.”

The three of them picked up their drinks and headed

poolside bantering about the flash rainstorms of Noronha. David

sounded traumatized as he revealed that in the day and a half

since he and Yara’s friends and family had arrived, they’d had

six such bursts of rain with almost no warning. Steph glanced up from her drink as she crossed the threshold to the patio, and the view nearly made her trip over her own feet. David grabbed her

arm to steady her, and she blinked in disbelief at the pool which seemed to vanish into the beautiful horizon. The guys headed

away from the pool to a shaded table, and she stumbled along

after them.

As she took a seat, Scot spoke again. “I know I speak for

everyone else in Fury when I say we’re sorry about the video,

too. The rest of us tried to tell the label not to release it, or to just release the footage of us playing and cut the scenes with the

model. But they’re a bunch of whores. All they could see were

the vaults full of money they would make.”

“Thanks for trying. That was a jagged-ass pill to swallow.”

Steph murmured.

Scot leaned forward and fixed her with his serious dark

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gaze. “He was hurting, Steph. We didn’t even know he was film-

ing the parts with the model until the shoot was almost done.

Mark found out and came to drag us out of an interview to try to stop it. The rest of us were under the impression it was going to be a band performance video only. Phillip pitched the rest privately to the director who was salivating all over the camera

when we showed up on the set.”

Steph imagined their diminutive manager Mark throwing a

fit at hulking Phillip, and it made her feel momentarily better.

“Phillip was pretty pissed at the shoot.” David offered, as if

Phillip’s drunkenness would soften the blow somehow. Images

from the video dominated Steph’s thoughts, and she tried to un-

clench her teeth.

“He seemed to be having a good time with it. Guys, I get it.

Artists use stuff from their lives all the time.” Steph shrugged.

David and Scot exchanged another conspiratorial glance, and

Steph titled her head at them, wearing her annoyed face.

“What?” She pointedly looked at Dave, whom she knew

would cave.

“The model took him home.” He replied, unable to meet her

eyes. Steph wasn’t prepared for the gut punch of this develop-

ment. Not only had he reenacted their antics for the camera, but he’d hired a look-alike stand-in to “re-enact” them privately as well.

“Wow.” She downed half her drink, when the lobby door

opened and Phillip stepped through it. Though she was thirty feet away and he’d cut his hair, she’d have known his confident

mannerisms and amazing body anywhere.

On the heels of David’s revelation, seeing him stung more

than she’d prepared herself for. Attractive as ever, he was darkly tanned, and his hair had been bleached even blonder by the sun.

He wore a white sleeveless shirt, and his tattooed arms looked

bigger than she remembered. When he reached back with one

arm and pulled his shirt off over his head, she knew for sure he’d 63

TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

been hitting the gym and doing a lot of lifting. As he turned in their direction, she saw the new tattoo he had over his heart. Unfortunately she’d also caught glimpses of it in the fucking “Fire Woman” video. She couldn’t tell what the tattoo was from this

distance, but it was black like the rest of them and looked sort of Celtic in nature. Then, she was too distracted by the lost look he wore to bother getting a better look at it.

He’d spotted her; that much was obvious. He’d been kick-

ing off his sandals and froze mid-movement. As his smoky eyes

rested on her face, he stood up tall, and his jaw tightened.

“Oh shit.” She didn’t realize she’d said it out loud until Da-

vid whipped his head in her direction. Phillip turned away from

them immediately, and she glanced at Dave. He opened his

mouth to speak and then snapped it shut. Steph turned her entire body toward him (purposely away from Phillip) and took a

hearty sip of her drink.

“You look like you want to say something, David. Spit it

out, already.”

“He still loves you.” David blurted and then turned red all

the way to his hairline. “Sorry.”

Steph looked down at her cocktail and played with the

straw. Even though it was utterly selfish, she wanted to believe him. She’d turned him away, and he’d shut her out. But she
still
wanted him to want her. It was wrong and prideful and oh-so-textbook Steph Brier behavior. This was one of many huge char-

acter flaws that she needed to work on.

Add it to the list.

She found it difficult to look in Phillip’s direction and diffi-

cult not to. Thankfully, she heard a splash and saw his golden

hair bobbing in the water.

Steph swigged down the rest of her caipirinha in one gulp.

It burned all the way down, and she was glad. “It’s been a long

day, boys. I’m going to go lie down for a while before dinner.”

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The cool water did nothing to ease the burn Phillip felt in

every cell of his body. No matter how prepared he thought he

was for it, seeing her again knocked the wind out of him and

nearly brought him to his knees. He’d presented his heart to her, and she’d ripped it out through his throat.

He tried to ignore her as she left Dave and Scot at the table

and headed in his direction, but she was more stunning than ever and he couldn’t look away. She was no longer frighteningly

gaunt. A glimpse at her bare leg poking out from the slit in her long sarong showcased lean muscle definition she’d never had

before. Her scorching hair was the longest he’d ever seen it and curly in the heavy tropical heat. Her skin was a lovely pinkish

brown from being in the sun, so he figured she’d either been

prepping for the beach or spending a lot of time out-of-doors. He was so captivated by her appearance that she was ten feet from

him before he realized she was looking directly at him with those devastating aquamarine eyes that mirrored the sea behind him.

He gripped the side of the pool as if gripping onto his pride.

She wore a determined look and pivoted in his direction. Primal

urges warred within him. The first was to flee, even if it meant jumping off the nearest cliff-face into the rocky waters below.

The second was to pull her into the water and ravage her in full view of anyone in the pousada. It was a fairly well-matched tug

of war between the two.

Stephanie stopped a foot from the edge of the pool, and be-

fore he could stop himself, his eyes were entangled with hers.

“Hey.” Her voice had the same raspy timbre he had always

adored, like a prima donna who’d smoked a box of cigars and

drank a bottle of whisky the night before. Like every other aspect of Stephanie, her voice was a contradiction. You couldn’t have

the sweet without the savory.

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He opened his mouth to reply and paused. He couldn’t say

“how are you”, “lookin’ good”, “I fucking love you, you vicious

little bitch,” or any of the other things that jumped to mind. So he closed his mouth and just nodded at her in greeting. She

kicked off her shoes and stepped forward. Crouching down, she

took a seat on the side of the pool. Her shapely legs were in the water inches from him. He could have moved forward two feet