The Rock Star's Christmas Reunion: contemporary holiday romance (A Charisma series novel, The Connollys Book 1) (12 page)

“I’ll just stay away from Bax.” His smirk deepened. “Unless he likes weed, of course.”

She turned away without saying anything else. Bax was a recovering addict. As she clenched her fists, she had to remind herself that Quin wouldn’t know that. He wasn’t trying to be evil. He was just a jerk.

Still, tears came to her eyes at the idea of Bax falling back into his old ways. She wiped at her cheeks with her palms, wishing the last twenty-four hours had never happened. Why did she care so much for him already? It was dangerous. High school crushes should never grow up to be talented and charismatic and beautiful. It gave them an unfair advantage.

“Yakima,” her brother called as she opened the rear door. “What’s the big deal? It’s legal now.”

She turned back to him. “He’s in recovery.”

Quin screwed up the side of his face but said nothing.

“And-and I’m sorry I told you, because it’s gossip.”

He nodded. “I won’t repeat it, Yakima.”

“Because you’re so trustworthy and all.”

“Remember when we were friends, little sister?” he said, in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

“No,” she shot back. “Actually, I don’t. Jay was a lot nicer than you.”

“When you were little you worshipped me.”

Her lips spread in a grimace of pain. “Just shows the quality of my taste in men. I take after Mom.” She zipped through the door and kicked it shut, then went to her car.

Once she was inside, she didn’t remember what her plan had been until she saw the untidy pile of cloth shopping bags on the passenger seat. The dinner party was tomorrow so she needed to do the shopping today. They’d specifically asked for homemade breads and croutons so she needed to bake baguettes today. She also had tofu steaks to season and a million other things to do before two, when she had to meet Bax.

~

When she pulled up in front of Bax’s garage at two, she had some of her mojo back. She’d treated herself to a churro and soda at Costco. After drinking that, she’d had to blast the heat in her car to restore her body temp in the December damp, but it had been worth it. Nothing like sugar to fix a bad mood.

She still had a smile on her face when she rang Bax’s doorbell, though the sight of Remy Rose answering it made her smile waver. Remy wore a forest green tunic, belted with some crazy crystal-studded leather fantasy around her tiny waist. Her legs were covered in red-and-white candy striped leggings.

“If you’re going for the elf look you’ve succeeded,” Yakima said. “Congratulations.”

“This is high fashion,” the pop star snapped.

“At the North Pole,” Yakima suggested. “Is Santa Claus here? I think we have a meeting.”

Remy snarled at her but stood aside. Yakima walked in. She had her clipboard and a second copy of her notes, just in case Remy had destroyed her first set. She wasn’t quite sure why she thought the other woman was capable of doing so. In fact, she was vested in treating Yakima like the help as much as possible.

“I suppose Thanksgiving is more your thing, right? Pilgrims and Indians?”

Yakima hadn’t been facing Remy. She’d been moving toward the kitchen. But her legs planted themselves solidly against the hardwood floor and her shoulders stiffened. “I’d check that attitude, girl. Multi-culturalism is in fashion and you aren’t going to last very long being such an obvious racist.”

She mentally high-fived herself for her unemotional tone. Maybe sparring with Quin earlier had toughened her up for the rest of the day. Good thing because she was going to need tough to deal with Bax.

“Just trying to help you celebrate your culture, boo,” Remy called, sweet as mold. “Last I checked that’s the opposite of racism.”

Yakima blinked. Did she try to educate the poisonous little witch? No, it wasn’t worth it. But what did it say about Bax that he’d been involved with her? The thought made her heart heavy as she went to the kitchen.

She found her party notes still on the kitchen table, slightly marked with salsa stains. Someone had reviewed them, though they hadn’t made any notes.

“You worked hard,” Bax said, coming in from the garage. He brought the scents of cold and oil and metal in with him. His hands were black.

“What were you doing?” He tried to hug her but she recoiled and pointed at his hands as an excuse.

“Changing the oil on my SUV. My father always drummed it into us that you change the oil after you buy a vehicle.” He went to the sink and pulled a dish that held an orange bar of soap toward him.

She didn’t like that he was using the kitchen sink to wash oily hands. She hoped he’d scrub it out later. “Did you like my menu?” she asked as he pulled a paper towels from the dispenser and dried his hands.

“Lots of avocado toast.”

“Toast is popular.”

“I thought you’d have something with shrimp.”

“I can add it. Shrimp is a bit controversial but I know where to buy the responsibly sourced product.”

“Cool. Can you wrap it with bacon or is that pushing it too far?”

Just making a living.
“I can have Haldana do it.”

He grinned. “Just kidding. Dipping sauce is fine.”

She mock-wiped her forehead. “I do them on skewers. We were already doing halloumi cheese and mixed veg on the grill, so the shrimp will fit right in.”

“Great.” He pushed the garbage can pedal with his foot and dropped in the paper towels. The scent of garage had diminished somewhat, but he had a streak of oil on his new Carhartt coat.

She suspected he hadn’t changed oil for a long time. “You need to get that coat off.”

“Yeah, it’s warm inside.”

She shook her head and went to unzip it. “Oil, buddy. We need to get that stain out.”

He watched, bemused, as she unzipped the coat. After he shrugged out of it, she went to the sink and squirted dish soap all over the stain.

“Do you have any vinegar?”

“I’ll look.” He went to his pantry and rummaged around. “I had it stocked but I don’t know exactly what is in here.”

She continued to work the stain with the soap until he reappeared holding a clear bottle. “Cool. I’ll rinse out the soap, then we’ll rinse with the vinegar. Is anything in the washer right now?”

He set the bottle down. “I’ll go check.”

The laundry room must have been behind the kitchen, along the garage, because he walked that direction. By the time he returned she had rinsed the still-obvious stain.

“I moved some stuff into the dryer.”

She shook out the coat as best she could and handed the soggy mass to him. “Check the pockets, then wash it alone on your stain remover cycle with your usual soap. Hopefully we caught it soon enough.”

He grinned at her. “I don’t care. It will look more manly with the stain.”

She rolled her eyes. “Hurry up, Bax. I have tons of work to do.”

He saluted her and strode off with the coat. Underneath he’d only worn a T-shirt, and now that she’d lost her distraction she could see the way his jeans cupped his butt like a lover’s hand. She didn’t know what kind of workout he did to maintain his body like that at thirty, but she sent thanks to the gods for the view.

When he returned, he said, “I’m curious to see how those pulled pork sliders turn out without meat.”

“I know it sounds nuts to a non-vegan, but they are delicious. All of the taste of pulled pork, with all of the protein, but none of the pig!”

He chuckled and wiped his hands down the front of his shirt. She didn’t notice the name of the band on front, but she did pay close attention to how his hands against the shirt molded the fabric to his pecs.

“You must have a six-pack,” she blurted.

He tilted his head, looking sly, and lifted the hem of his shirt a couple of inches, just enough to see the cuts on his hips, a hint of ab, and of course, that mouth-watering treasure trail along his flat stomach.

Yakima’s body reacted like a hurricane had gone through her veins, leaving her breathless, damp, and ready to run. But instead of for cover, she wanted to throw herself right into the storm.

“Are you done?” Remy appeared in the doorway, looking bored. “I’m dressed to go to dinner, Bax.”

Yakima clenched her fists. He was taking Remy out in public? But he was supposed to be her boyfriend. She’d already had him half-undressed, at least in her mind. Pressing her lips together, not to mention her thighs, she suppressed a whimper.

“We’re going to try out the new Greek place,” Bax said with an embarrassed little smile.

“Great owner,” Yakima managed to say. “Slow service.”

“So you have to stay chill?” he asked, lifting his brows. His expression seemed to say more than his words.

She nodded. “For a while. But eventually you just have to be served.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Do you have a better idea?”

“No. I hear the lamb is excellent.”

“Thanks for the tip.” He slid his hands into his pockets, his hips canting toward her.

Or maybe that was just her imagination. She turned away to break the spell and gathered up the old, stained papers and added them to her clipboard. “Any instructions for the bartender I’m contracting for you?”

“We need a signature drink for the evening,” Bax said. “You come with something that goes with the food, okay? Let me grab you a check.”

He went out the door Remy had come in, leaving the women together.

“Bet you wish he was taking you to dinner,” the pop princess sneered.

“I have too much work to do. I thought you musicians had to work hard to stay on top, but I guess you don’t care about that.”

“We work hard and play hard,” Remy said, as calmly as she had never been before. “But don’t worry, boo, I’ll work Bax plenty hard before I leave.”

Yakima winced. She should have seen that coming. Forcing back the red that was taking over her vision, she made sure her coat was zipped then clutched her clipboard to her chest.

Bax returned quickly. She could tell he’d known he was playing with fire by leaving them together. He handed her a check. “We’ll work out the final bill on Sunday, okay?”

“It will have to be early. I’m working at a holiday festival.”

“We’ll go for breakfast,” he suggested. “The Café still open?”

“Yes, but it’s moved.”

“Cool. It won’t be too busy if we go early.”

“Don’t you want to sleep in after your party?”

He shook his head. “I won’t be drinking.”

“Okay. I’ll see you Saturday then.”

“Text me the schedule, okay?”

She nodded. “Bye, Remy.”

Remy rolled her eyes and tucked both hands around Bax’s bare arm.

Head high, Yakima walked into the hallway, leaving the star to ply her wares. She was reasonably sure that Bax would shake her off the first second he could.

What she didn’t expect, was the door swinging open behind her, and Bax appearing in the doorway, looking grim. “I still need to talk to you.”

A lump the size of a walnut formed in her throat. “We can’t talk with her around.”

“I know. Come by tomorrow after your dinner.”

She nodded, wondering if he realized how completely exhausted she’d be at that point, but she had to agree. Saying no wasn’t an option. Not if she wanted to keep her slim hope of a new boyfriend by Christmas alive.

~

Yakima couldn’t hold back her yawn as she drove up Bax’s driveway on Thursday night at ten p.m. Despite her exhaustion, she had a warm glow from her successful party, not to mention the nice check in her purse. The party givers, Simone and Jake Figueroa, had been so pleased with the food that they hadn’t played any games with the bill. Yakima and Simone had really connected, discussing vegan food as Yakima and Haldana heated and plated the apps. They had commiserated over the complete lack of vegetarian dining options in Clark County, and how every dish at every restaurant seemed to have bacon. It was like a condiment, as ubiquitous as mustard, around the area.

She pushed open her van door and climbed down. Something large and dark loomed through her driver’s side window. She jerked back, then realized Bax had installed a huge snow globe lawn decoration. She shut her door and stepped forward. The globe was large enough that an entire miniature elf workshop was inside.

“Boys and their toys,” she muttered, making sure she’d remembered to bring her foil-wrapped package of flourless chocolate cake with her from the van.

She rang the doorbell. Bax took a while to appear. She hoped he hadn’t gone to bed already. Eventually, he opened the door, but Remy was right behind him, wearing a flowy velvet dress that dwarfed her tiny form. Yakima had thought he was getting rid of his ex. Why was she still around?

“Hey,” he said.

She drank in the sight of his molded arms. Only in a T-shirt for once, she could see the enhanced barbed wire tattoo on his bicep.

Some nights, she’d fallen asleep wondering what other tattoos he had. What hadn’t she seen yet? Now she found another one, a quote across his right wrist, but she couldn’t read the text. “You wanted me to stop by,” she reminded him.