Sexy Lies and Rock & Roll (28 page)

A pure thrill of excitement runs through me over his words, and I find myself strangely not offended in the slightest. In fact, there’s something frankly wicked about the whole prospect of him doing such a thing.

I’m sure the folks at Crowley and Padrick, a firm that’s been around for over eighty years, would be completely scandalized if Evan did such a thing with me.

I would be completely scandalized. I’d be mad, affronted, and completely embarrassed. It wouldn’t be appropriate, completely unprofessional, and I wouldn’t be able to look any of my peers in the face for as long as I live if it happened.

So I square my shoulders, notch my chin up an inch, and glare at him. “I have nothing to say to you, so I’m going to ask you to leave.”

Evan’s eyes flash with challenge, and he emits a small growl of victory. Then my world is spinning as his shoulder goes into my belly and I’m flipped practically upside down over his back. His hand goes to my butt to hold me in place, and I can’t help the small shriek of surprise—no, happiness—that runs through me over his alpha ways.

I hear Gloria gasp in shock as Evan spins toward the door, and I raise my head up to look at her. She has her hand covering her mouth and her eyes are wide with surprised uncertainty. Her other hand hovers over the phone, and I’m pretty sure she’s thinking of dialing 911.

“It’s fine, Gloria,” I huff out since breathing is a bit difficult from this position. “Mr. um… Wigglesworth is an old friend. I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t count on it,” Evan mutters as he strides right out the door and onto the sidewalk.

Without pausing, he turns sharply left and walks down the block with me bouncing on his shoulder, causing unladylike grunts to come out of me.

“For God’s sake, Evan,” I say as I slap at his back. “Put me down. I can’t breathe.”

I expect him to ignore me, but, to my surprise, he lowers me down, letting my feet touch the concrete gently. But then he’s got my hand in his and he’s dragging me back down the sidewalk.

For a brief moment, I think to be affronted, but I can’t bring myself to do it. For the past two months, I’ve kicked myself in the butt so many times for not reaching out to Evan, so now I couldn’t be any happier that’s he’s here. I have no clue why he’s here, but I’m just so freaking happy right now.

Evan turns left at the next intersection and marches me twenty yards to a black car parallel parked. He opens the passenger door and says, “Get in.”

So I get in.

I watch as he walks around the front, holding my breath until he slides into the driver’s seat and closes his door. He then turns to face me. “So will you take my case?”

I cock an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, Mr. Wigglesworth. What’s it about?”

Evan smirks at me, and God… I missed his smirk. How can I miss a smirk?

“Tyler sued me for wrongful termination and breach of contract,” he replies.

“That asshole,” I exclaim with indignation.

“I know,” he says sagely. “And I refuse to pay him a dime. I’ll fight this to the death, and I need a really good attorney to handle this for me.”

He wants me.

Well, as his attorney.

My gaze drops to my lap. “Midge would handle it for you.”

“She absolutely would,” he agrees softly, and his hand comes out to rest over mine, which are clenched together. I look up at him. “But I don’t want her.”

“You don’t?” I whisper.

“I want you,” he says gently. “Like really bad.”

“You do?” I ask in awe, because… how could he? He reached out to me two months ago. Explained everything that happened. He had been manipulated. Violated by his best friend. And I turned my back on everything we had because my feelings had been hurt, and not even by him.

“Yeah, Emma,” he says gruffly. “I want you. Completely. In every way a man could want a woman.”

My gaze drops back down again, my cheeks heating. It’s been so long since he’s made them warm, but this time it’s not with embarrassment, but with guilt aimed directly at myself. “I don’t understand why. I didn’t give you the benefit of the doubt. I ignored you. I cut you off, even when deep down, I knew you were telling me the truth of what happened that day.”

“You gave me your opinion,” he tells me.

My head snaps his way. “I what?”

“You sent me an email and you told me not to take the Phoenix deal,” he reminds me. “I’d been after you for weeks to tell me what you thought I should do, and you wouldn’t. You always held back, afraid to trust that I would value your opinion in something that would have a very major impact on my life.”

“It was just a thought—” I try to argue, but his hand squeezes mine to cut me off.

“It was the moment you showed me that you trusted me enough that you’d risk giving your opinion,” he says with surety. “You may not have seen that for what it was, but I did.”

“Then why didn’t you respond to me?” I ask him, my eyes searching his face for an answer that is very important to me.

“Because I think at that point, everything was still very raw for you,” he explains. “I mean… your message was very short and blunt. It gave me no further encouragement to do anything, and frankly… I think you needed to sort of figure these things out. So I waited for you to do that and then reach out to me once you were sure.”

“But I didn’t reach out to you,” I point out.

“Yeah, you did,” he assures me. “You walked into Midge’s office and demanded a job on the other side of the state. You knew that would provoke me.”

“No, I didn’t,” I deny vehemently, but then I give him a small truth. “But maybe deep down, I hoped it would.”

Evan chuckles and he moves his hand from mine, bringing it to the back of my neck where he grips me gently.

“Evan,” I say with complete apology, “I should have reached out. I should have told you I believed in you.”

“It’s okay,” he offers me gallantly.

“No,” I tell him with a shake of my head. “I was too afraid to make the move. Every day that went by I didn’t hear from you, or that I failed to reach out to you, I convinced myself you’d moved on. I just figured you’d given up, and that I would be totally humiliated and hurt all over again if I contacted you. I convinced myself I’d blown it, and I wasn’t brave enough to find out if that was true or not.”

“Emma,” Evan says as his fingers tighten on me to make a point. “It’s done. That’s all in the past. I’m here now. It’s time to figure out what we want to do with our future.”

“Do you forgive me?” I ask, because I really need to know if I still have some more groveling to do.

“Only if you forgive me for ever letting myself get put into that stupid position,” he says with a smile.

I shake my head and reach out, placing my hand on his chest. “No. That was all Tyler. You trusted him and never would have thought he’d betray you that way.”

Evan gives me a curt eye roll, and then silences any further protest by pulling me into him and placing his mouth against mine. His kiss is all at once savage and regretful, sweet and fulfilling.

I missed it so much.

When he pulls away from me, he leans his forehead against mine. “So how soon can you move back to Raleigh?”

“I need to give two weeks’ notice,” I say without hesitation.

“Then you’ll go on my payroll,” he tells me, and this causes me to pull back so I can look at him.

“Your payroll?” I ask with my eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“I’ll be hiring you to be my full-time attorney, publicist, and manager,” he says adamantly. “Seems I have an opening, and because I didn’t take the Phoenix deal—”

“You didn’t take it?” I exclaim in surprised delight.

He grins and shakes his head. “The only thing I took was your advice. I find I like being an indie artist for now. So that means I need help, and you’re the most qualified. And besides that, I’m not willing to go another day without you in my bed.”

“Then that means you’re going to have to stay here with me in Asheville for a few weeks,” I tell him.

“My bags are packed and in the trunk,” he assures me, and my heart swells. Evan came here knowing it was all going to work out. He had the confidence in us as a whole to know it was going to be okay.

I hope I can have that same confidence one day.

I think I can.

No, wait… I know I can. Evan’s already helped me to grow in so many ways, so it will be unavoidable.

“Evan?” I whisper as I look into his eyes.

“Yeah?”

I swallow hard, and I decide to trust in him. I decide to take a risk so he doesn’t have to be the only one today making a bold step for us. “I love you. I loved you two months ago, which is why I think my heart was so broken. And I still love you today. Not the same amount, but more.”

“Now that would be a fantastic song lyric,” he says with a chuckle. Then he kisses me. No less savagely. None of the regret. Still amazingly sweet, and more fulfilling than I could have ever hoped for. “And I love you, too.”

Evan

“A
lright, one last
song tonight,” I say as I clasp one hand over the microphone and balance my guitar over my knee. I just finished an acoustic version of my latest hit,
Crazy Good
, a song I wrote last year after Emma and I got back together. It’s about her and how crazy fucking good my life became with her in it.

Since then, I’ve written a lot of songs about Emma, and you know what? My fans fucking love it. I’ve become like this modern-day romance hero or some shit because I write about my feelings for her. Apparently, that not only makes women’s panties combust, but it also makes their hearts swoon with rapture. It’s nothing but a pure goddamn joy that Emma is revered by my fans.

“This last one you all know,” I say softly into the microphone, and then tilt my head to the right. The cheering starts to build, reaching a crescendo as they all know what’s coming. My eyes land on her, and she blows me a kiss. “This one is called…
Emma
.”

And everyone goes fucking nuts.

And they should.

It’s an awesome song, having spent seven weeks at #1 on the Billboard Charts. It’s my best work in my humble opinion.

I have to hide my smile widening as my gaze focuses in on Cary and Midge standing a few feet behind Emma. She has no clue they came in for the concert. They’ve been in VIP seating but were led backstage per my instructions a few moments ago.

The lights turn down low and a lone spotlight shines down on me. I plug at the strings of my guitar, which ring clear and true with absolutely no other music to accompany. Cap, Jimmy, and Dilana exited the stage the minute the lights dimmed.

It’s just me and my words about Emma now.

I close my eyes and I reach into my heart, immediately latching onto the feeling and letting it lead the way.

The crowd sings along with me, because like me… they love Emma.

The song is beautiful and poignant. A constant reminder to me of how lucky I am.

It speaks of love and joy, trust and acceptance. I share with my fans how I love to lay in bed with her on rainy mornings. How she nags me to put the dishes in the dishwasher. I’m told it’s especially swoon worthy when my voice drops low, and I wonder what she’d look like pregnant with my child. I’ve heard that men are getting laid left and right by their women after I sing that she would never be more beautiful.

It’s the best song I’ve ever written, and it will never be topped.

I’m okay with that, because it’s just a song and I have the real deal standing right over there.

My eyes open and my head turns again, pinning her in place as I sing the last lines.

She’s mine for days, an eternity even… and yet that could never be enough.

Because she’s Emma.

The last notes of the song fade away and the crowd goes crazy. I turn back to the mic and in a husky voice—because I always get emotional at the end of that song—I tell the crowd, “Thank you all for coming. I love you.”

The noise is deafening and will ultimately result in an encore chant. They know I’ll be back.

But for now, I slip off the stool, rest my guitar against it, and walk off the stage toward Emma.

She beams at me, pride etched all over her face even as she wipes tears away. That song always gets her.

“You were wonderful,” she says as I pull her in for a hard hug.

“Pretty much,” I tease her, and she pinches me just below my ribs.

Chuckling, I pull back from her, put my hands on her shoulders, and turn her 180 degrees around so she’s facing her dad and Midge standing there.

She goes still for just a moment, and then she shrieks in delight. She hasn’t seen her dad in almost four months, as we’ve been out on the West Coast recording a new album before we launched into this most recent concert tour. I went ahead and signed a one-album deal with Phoenix, as they kept after me. With some hard wheeling and dealing by my fabulous attorney/manager/publicist, we were able to strike a deal that not only made sense financially, but also made me comfortable with how much of my personal life would belong to them, which wasn’t very much. I had to commit to some publicity appearances, but it was all doable in my mind since Emma would always be with me.

My life is almost at the pinnacle of perfection. My career is soaring, Emma was so ferocious in how she dealt with Tyler and his attorneys that they’ve slunk off into the darkness with their tails between their legs, and I know in my heart there will come a day when I get everything I wished for in that song I just sang.

Emma pulls away from me and launches herself at her dad, who wraps her up in a hug and lifts her off her feet. Then he lets her go, and she gives Midge an equally hard hug, and that right there warms my fucking heart. Those two are as thick as thieves now, and I suppose they both feel a little smug that Midge’s machinations are what eventually drove us back together again.

I just stand there watching, both my hands shoved down into my pockets.

Where my fingers on my right hand toy with the little black velvet box tucked inside.

She has no clue this is coming.

Completely oblivious.

Cary and Midge obviously do, which is why I had them flown here for this concert.