Take Me Home Tonight (12 page)

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Authors: Erika Kelly

BOOK: Take Me Home Tonight
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“I recognize the tiramisu and the panna cotta, but what was the one sprinkled with confectioner's sugar?” Emmie's hand rested on her lower belly.


Torta Barozzi
. That's my family's favorite.”

“Well, it's mine now, too. Although I'm going to have to try all of them again just to make sure.” Emmie gave a mischievous grin.

“You do realize you're not actually eating for two, right?” Derek threw an arm across both his sister and his fiancée's shoulders.

Emmie gazed up at her brother. “Axl disagrees.”

“Axl?” Derek said on a laugh. “That's what we're calling him?”

“We don't know the sex.” Slater pushed between Derek and Emmie, tipped his wife's chin, and pressed a kiss on her mouth. “But for the record,” he said to Mimi, “we're not announcing anything yet.”

“Wait, she's
pregnant
?” Mimi turned fully to her friend. “You're pregnant?”

Emmie's smile was contagious. Slater's too.

“Yeah,” Derek said. “But they're waiting until they hit twelve weeks before telling people.”

“We're just gonna keep it between us, okay?” When Slater
looked at her like that, all intense and serious, she had to fight the urge to look away. He was just so freaking handsome and charismatic. It was like being around a movie star.

“Thank you for trusting me with the secret. I won't tell a soul.” Sometimes she couldn't believe she'd breached the perimeter of this tight group of friends—it filled her with a powerful sense of connection.

“Hey, so how'd it go?” Emmie stroked a hand up his chest, resting it over his heart.

Holy Mother of God, the look that came over him—and it wasn't just the heat in his eyes, it was the utter adoration—like his wife was the keeper of all that was beautiful in the world.

God, she'd never even known love like this existed until she'd moved out to the farm and met these people.

“Irwin's talking to him now.”

“Kicked us out,” Derek said. “So they could talk privately.”

“Dude,” Cooper called, waving them over. “Derek? Slater? Come on. Pretty sure Irwin just fired Dak.”

“Gotta go, angel.” With a brush of his thumb across Emmie's cheek, Slater gave her one more kiss. “You eat for two—or however many people you want.” And then he shot Derek a challenging look.

Derek just laughed, then pressed a kiss to the corner of Violet's mouth.

The guys took off, leaving Mimi slightly off-kilter. “Do you two know how lucky you are?”

“Yes,” Emmie and Violet said at once. They looked at each other and laughed.

“There isn't a minute during the day that I don't think it,” Violet said softly. “How lucky I am. And I can't wait to marry him.”

“Do you have a date?” Mimi thought about the invitations—finished except for date, time, and location.

“No, but if Dak's fired, it'll have to be soon. I think we'll probably get married before the new producer starts. Before it gets crazy.”

“That's smart,” Emmie said. “Once they get back in the studio, it'll be intense. They have to make up for a lot of lost
time. And then they'll go on tour. And since you guys aren't doing a big wedding, you might as well do it sooner than later.”

Violet turned to Mimi with a concerned expression. “I know you're overwhelmed with the competition, but I was thinking . . . well, do you think . . .”

“Just say it. I'll do anything for you, V. You know that.”

“You haven't heard what I'm asking.” Violet drew in a breath. “I promise to be actively involved, but I really want your help with the wedding.”

“Of course I'll help you. We'll all help you.”

“No, I mean planning it.” She knew how hard it was for Violet to ask for favors. “I want you to do my wedding. The whole thing.”

Mimi's pulse kicked up. “Wait, you want me to plan your wedding?” In her dad's office, he had all kinds of awards and framed certificates. Front and center on the wall hung Mimi's Presidential Achievement Awards, her magna cum laude degree from Cornell, and her Columbia MBA. She was a businesswoman through and through.

Yet here she stood in a tent for a clambake she'd catered. And now her closest friend wanted her to plan her wedding? When had her life taken such a strange and wondrous turn?

Soon she'd be back on track. She'd either apprentice for Verna Bloom or work a full-time job in the restaurant industry. Violet's wedding would fall right before that time—so why not?

“Don't get the wrong idea. I still want it small—just us, our family—and I want it as casual as possible. But seeing what you did here tonight, this”—Violet gestured around the tent—“I want it magical. That's all I really know. Will you do that for me?”

“I would love to.” Mimi was gobsmacked. But truly, while waiting for her real life to begin, she couldn't think of anything else she'd rather be doing.

“I wish your mom were here to help,” Violet said. “But we'll keep it super simple.”

“I just don't know if you should trust
me
with your most special day.”

“I want it to be awesome, for sure,” Violet said. “But it's not my most special day. Corny as it sounds, every single day is special. Every morning I wake up and realize all over again he's mine. Every time he walks into a room and looks for me and gets that intense look in his eyes as he comes right to me? That's . . .” She turned to Emmie. “Sorry, but your brother's hot.”

Emmie just smiled.

“The way he loves you is hot,” Mimi said.

“It
is
.”

“Sistah, I hear you.” Emmie looped her arm around Violet's waist. “We done good.”

“You guys make my teeth hurt,” Mimi said. “And you suck because you've got the only two hot guys with huge hearts on the whole planet.”

“Don't believe that for a second,” Emmie said. “You just keep on being all that you are, and he'll find you. You'll find
each other
. Trust me on that. You've got more heart than anyone I know, so you'll attract the same. You'll see.”

A tap on her shoulder had her turning away from her friends.

“Excuse me?” One of the teenage servers she'd hired stood there uncomfortably. “That lady over there at the bar, the one glaring at me?”

“Excuse me, guys.” Mimi stepped away from her friends, peering over the girl's shoulder to see the woman in question. Ah, she'd seen that groupie many times before. This was a closed party, though, so she had no idea how the nymph had gotten in. “What's she doing here?”

“She says she's someone's girlfriend, and she's pissed because there's no room at the VIP table.”

“That's because there is no VIP table. Okay. I'll take care of it. Thanks, Katy. You're doing an awesome job tonight. I appreciate you coming in on so little notice.”

“Oh, any time. Not a hardship working an event for these guys.” She gave a mischievous shrug of her brows.

Mimi headed for the bar. She'd had plenty of experience with nymphs in the year she'd lived on the farm. Not just at the clubs, but their frequent visits to the studio. Slater and
Derek might be taken, but Cooper and Ben weren't. And those two liked to party.

As she approached the woman—who had to be in her early twenties—she took in her outfit. To a clambake, she'd worn a leather skirt so tight and short it looked like Spanx for the butt and hips. Her halter top was basically a silk scarf that draped over her nipples—gaping on the sides to expose the rest of her large breasts.

“Hi, I'm Mimi Romano. What can I help you with?”

“There's nowhere for me to sit at my boyfriend's table.”

“And who's your boyfriend?”

“Dak Johnson.”

Had someone just rung the crazy bell? Dak had been holed up in the studio with the band the whole night, which, of course, a girlfriend would've known. “I'm sorry to hear that. It might be best to work out your seating arrangement with Dak. Do you want to give him a call?”

“I'm not going to bother him with something so stupid. I just want to sit down and eat.”

“How about I call him? Let him know you're here.”

She rolled her eyes. “He obviously knows I'm here.”

“Problem?” Calix appeared at her side.

The woman's entire demeanor changed. She went from hard and snarky to soft and seductive. “Hey, there. About time you talked to me.”

He ignored her in favor of Mimi. “Everything okay?”

“This is Dak's date . . .” She waited for the woman to share her identity.

“Laney. Laney Morrison.” The nymph drew in a deep breath, effectively thrusting out her huge, wobbly breasts.

“Laney.” Calix took a step closer to the woman and towered over her. “I don't know what shit you're trying to pull, but this is a private party.”

“And I'm invited. Ask Coop. Ask Ben. They know me.”

“It's not that kind of party.” He waved to one of the servers, a tall, lanky guy Mimi was pretty sure she'd seen at the bonfire at Calix's place. The guy loped over with his easygoing grin.

“Hey, Bones. Need you to make sure this lady gets home
safely.” Calix held the guy's gaze a moment too long, until he nodded with understanding.

“You got it, dude.”

“I'm not going home,” Laney said. “I'm Dak's
date
.”

“Come on, babe.” With his amiable smile, Bones ushered the nymph away.

Mimi stood beside Calix, watching Laney walk, her hips swaying. The woman cast a seductive glance over her shoulder, mouthing,
Call me
.

“Oh, my God.” Why were these women so eager to spend one night with a rocker? When she looked up at Calix, she found him smiling. She swatted his shoulder. “You love this, don't you?”

He laughed. “What's not to love?”

“Skanky women throwing themselves at you . . . they don't even know you.”

“What you call skanky, a guy calls hot.”

She loved the playful side of him. Too bad she rarely saw it. “And Laney's hot?”

“You're judging her by her clothes. A guy just sees a woman who's gonna get freaky.”

“See, that's the difference between us. I'd only get freaky with my boyfriend. Someone I trusted.”

He turned so that his body practically caged her in against the tent wall. “You get freaky, Mimi?”

With him standing so close and looking at her so intensely, she heated up. “When I'm comfortable with someone.”

His gaze narrowed, his expression turning carnal. “Mimi.” His voice sounded rough, demanding, exactly like what she'd want from him in bed.

He leaned into her, eyes filled with fierce heat. God, maybe she was crazy, maybe she was only seeing what she wanted to see, but sometimes it looked like he wanted to eat her up.

After the show, the way he'd come to her backstage, plucking her from the crowd, pulling her aside, he'd looked like he was going to take her right then and there. And holy crap, she'd wanted that.

But just like he'd done after the scorching kiss in her
hallway, his smile faded, and he cleared his throat, breaking whatever lustful thoughts he might've had. He made a move for the bar. “You want something?”

“No, thanks. I'm working.”

“Anything left to be done?” He faced the room. Everyone had finished eating, so now they sat at tables or stood in groups drinking. Music played through speakers, but no one danced.

“I guess not.”

“You did a good job tonight. Place looks great.”

She'd projected images of waves crashing on the beach and then set fans at strategic angles to make the tent walls ripple. It made for a very cool effect. “Yeah, it does, doesn't it? Thanks for your help.”

His heated gaze made her breath catch in her throat. See, he was doing it again. Was she crazy? Or was he looking at her like he wanted to flip up her skirt and bend her over the nearest table?

A bolt of electricity ripped through her at the thought. Facedown, her hair wrapped in his fist, those powerful hips slamming into her . . .
damn, girl.

Well, you know what?
He shouldn't look at her like that if he didn't mean it, because she was incredibly attracted to him.
Look at him
. That worn black T-shirt accentuated his broad shoulders and thick biceps. The leather wristbands and all that ink just screamed badass rocker.

And what kind of ink
was
that? She ran a finger over the colorful tattoo on his forearm. “One day you'll have to tell me about these. They're so unusual.”

When she glanced up, she found his expression almost feral. She pulled away. God, the way he looked at her made her want to climb him like a tree.
Not even kidding
.

“It's just ink.” A minute ago, he'd been playful. Now he was back to Mr. Stoic.

Nuh-uh. She wasn't going to let him shut down. Underneath that hard, impenetrable façade was a deeply sensitive guy. She knew that from the way he cared for his family. And while she doubted many got to see him like that, she had. There was no going back. “Bullshit.”

And there it was, that tiny curl of his lip. He liked when she didn't put up with his crap. He turned toward her, giving his back to the party, making her feel like he was sharing a secret. “My brother liked to paint.” His voice was low, his words meant only for her. Her heart beat thickly. “He was always making pictures for us. I turned my favorites into ink.”

She fought the sting of tears. “Are you serious? God, Calix, that's so beautiful.” Talk about sensitive. She reached for his arm. “Can I see them?”

He didn't respond, just held her gaze.

She smoothed her fingers up his forearm, over the colorful ink, but she couldn't make out the images. “It's too dark in here.”

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