Wild Child (Rock Royalty #6) (20 page)

A plaintive “mew” broke him free of his brood, and he shifted his gaze to the side without moving a muscle. A small white cat stood on the porch behind a big pot filled with a gnarled geranium plant, its green eyes wide and apprehensive. Brody took shallow breaths and shifted his gaze forward again, pretending to continue his study of the view. A drizzle began, dampening the air.

He sensed the cat’s approach. Ash told him she’d been feeding a feral stray who’d taken up residence under the stairs. Her attempts to make physical contact had been frustrated, however. The creature was that wary.

Brody had honed his patience with wild creatures during his years living in Laurel Canyon. He’d learned to wait until they came to him.

One of his palms was braced on the porch, and he didn’t dare twitch when he felt the tickle of whiskers on the back of his hand. Next came the real reward, the gentle drone of a cat’s purr. Still, he didn’t move.

Then the front door swung open, and his new friend darted away.

Brody snapped his head around and glared at his twin, emerging onto the porch. “Thanks for screwing that up.”

With a shrug, Bing settled onto the step beside him. “In my experience, most of us manage that on our own.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw the cat pour bonelessly over the edge of the porch and disappear.

“Yeah yeah yeah.” He wasn’t up for a twin tête-á-tête.

“Your sour mood tells me you have it bad, Bro.” His brother stretched out his long legs. “You dump the kindergarten teacher to immediately shack up with the roadhouse girl, but… What? You’ve not yet managed to send your big canoe down her sweet love canal?”

Brody stared at his brother. “There’re so many things wrong with what you just said that I don’t know where to begin. So let’s keep it simple. Fuck off.”

“Nope. Can’t sit idly by while you fuck up your life.” Bing crossed his ankles. “I think that means I’m becoming the good twin.

“Shit,” he said after a minute. “Lex won’t like that.”

Brody had to laugh. “Go away.” Then he couldn’t stop his lips from flapping. “And she’s not ‘the roadhouse girl.’ She’s a nice woman.”

“Beautiful. Maybe a little too breakable for a hard gallop, though.”

“My God. Do you have to be so crass?”

His brother shrugged. “Telling it like it is, Bro. And maybe I meant it in a metaphorical sense. She’s just lost her dad and her sister—”

“Her
twin
. Identical, just like us.”

Bing released a long whistle. “Then now’s definitely not the time to take her on one of your typical short though surely thrilling roller coaster rides.”

His brother was mixing up metaphors right and left, but Brody understood the point. “You mean you don’t want me to fuck up
her
life.”

“Every time’s not a good time for fun and games,” Bing said.

Propping his elbows on his knees, Brody put his head in his hands. “Right now it doesn’t feel much like either.”

His twin froze. “Oh.”

He glanced over. “‘Oh’?”

“I didn’t realize.” Bing met his gaze. “This is serious. You’re actually serious about her.”

If Brody admitted it, could he ever walk it back? “I’m not certain—”

“I’ll be honest,” Bing said. “Walsh told me about that photo on your phone, what you said about her at Honey’s house and…well, I thought she was one of your destructive benders in female form.”

“I don’t know that you’re so far from wrong,” Brody muttered. “She brings out the caveman in me.”

Bing waved that away. “Natural. That gets better with time.” His brother rubbed his chin. “Or a tattoo. I’ve been giving it serious thought.”

“You’re going to get Lex’s name inked on your skin?”

“Mine on hers.” His grin flashed. “
Bing
, across her forehead. Think she’ll go for that?”

“She’ll go for your gonads if you even mention it.”

Bing winced. “You’re probably right.”

“I’m right about a lot of things. Like this business with Ash could very well end in disaster.”

“Bro—”

“What do we know about this kind of thing? I already have enough regrets.” He didn’t want to take on any more pain.

“I wish we’d kept a more careful watch on Lynn, too, Bro,” Bing said, proving he’d dialed in to his twin’s frequency. Then he cleared his throat. “That you and she were beginning a romance doesn’t make you more complicit.”

Brody watched the rain come down. “You knew about that?”

“I’m your twin. Of course I knew. And she told me about it, too.”

“Oh.” Brody scrubbed his face with his hands.

Bing cleared his throat again. “Maybe I should have said something long ago—”

“That night, I tried to convince her to leave the party and go back to my room with me.”

“I remember. We both tried to get her outta there. But she wanted to stay.”

“You’d think the guy she was dating would have been able to persuade her.”

Bing shook his head. “It wasn’t about you.”

Instead of agreeing, Brody sighed and took a few minutes to contemplate the drizzle and the state of his life.

“How the hell did this happen? I vowed to take a straight, uncluttered path. No more drunken binges, no more high drama…and then here I am, in Topanga with a woman who’s having her own life crisis. She needs a smooth road, too, and I don’t think I’m helping.”

“You’re supposed to help each other,” his twin said. “That’s how the love thing works.” Bing clambered to his feet. “I’ll leave you to take in the wisdom of my words while I check that Dozer is getting to work instead of taking a nap.”

Brody remained on the porch. As it continued to rain, he came to a decision. The love thing was not going to happen. That was it. He was putting the brakes on. Calling it over. Full stop.

Doing so was merely a case of applying mind over matter. Or, to put it in Bing’s vernacular, he was going to heed his common sense instead of the wishes of his big canoe.

He could walk away from what his dick wanted.

And he didn’t falter from that position even as the rain began a steady patter. His resolve still didn’t soften when, a few minutes after that, Ash’s car nosed down the drive to the house. She pulled into the parking area and then ran through the drops, her cowboy boots splashing in the puddles.

Her dark jeans were painted on, and her sweater was the palest of grays, matching her eyes. It was held up by two-inch wide straps at the shoulders, but the long sleeves fell off them to reveal smooth skin. She’d styled her hair while at the roadhouse apparently. When she’d left it had been hanging loose down her back, but now a thick braid started at a deep side part to run above her forehead. It joined the rest of the mass at the back of her head in another twist of blond strands that was bound by a piece of silver lace ribbon.

He remembered Gwendolyn Moon, their favorite band groupie, making rock candy on a string. Like the confection, Ashlynn Childe sparkled.

And made his mouth water, even with the bruise fading on her face and the small cut held together with bandages.

It’s just lust. You can walk away from what your dick wants.

He stood as she began to mount the steps, intending to go inside in order to put the company of the guys between them.

“Who’s here?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the work crew’s vehicles.

“About that—”

“Did you know that there’s a bunch of your family at the roadhouse?”

“Huh?”

“Your sister, and Cami, and the women who are attached to the other Rock Royalty guys.”

He frowned. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“A party, they said, to celebrate a beam.”

A line had formed between her brows, and when she ascended another step he could smell her scent, the barest breath of Ashlynn in the rain-laden air.

Don’t touch her.
He shoved his hands into his front pockets. “The guys and I put one up,” he admitted. “A beam.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“I was worried about that section of ceiling falling down—it’s right over the sofa.”

“Oh.”

The word formed her lips into the shape of a kiss, and he saw a blush wash over her face.

It’s just lust.

“I might have told them they’d get paid for their labors in beer and wings over at Satan’s.”

She smiled. He didn’t see enough of those.

“What about you?” she asked, her tone soft and flirtatious. “What do you want to get paid with?”

Kisses, caresses, climaxes.
He shook his head to dispel the dangerous thought. “I don’t—”

“Shh.” Her hand shot out to clutch his. “Don’t move.”

It felt too damn good, her fingers warm and small and curled around his. “What—”

“
Shh
.” She leaned in, putting her cheek against his arm to peer around his body. “The cat,” she whispered.

“Behind the planter?” he whispered back.

“Yes.” Her hold on him grew tighter. “It’s coming closer.”

Then he felt it, the stealthy brush of a cat’s flank on his calf. Next, a flick of its tail. He glanced down to see it wind between his legs. Ash pressed her face tighter to him, and her body tensed as the creature brought its elegant nose near her jean-covered ankle.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmured. “No quick moves, but breathe easy.”

When the cat rubbed against her lower leg, Ash’s head lifted. “I think I have a pet!” she stage-whispered. “I’ve never had a pet!”

She was smiling again, bringing sunshine to the dreary day even as her eyes shone like starlight.

God.

God.

His soul lit up and the fight went straight out of him. More certainty filled his chest, and a weird quiet washed through his body. It was contentment again. Acceptance. The knowledge that the struggle was over.

There was no chance he could fool himself this was only lust or something he had a hope of shutting down. Not when her pleasure over a feral stray’s tentative first contact damn near blinded him.

It was love, and he was all in. For better or for worse.

Forever.

Ash decided that while the energy and excitement of Friday and Saturday nights at the roadhouse made her feel alive, a rainy early Sunday evening at Satan’s held its own special charms. Beers rattled against each other on the tray she carried toward the tables filled with Brody’s family and friends. It didn’t hurt her mood that he immediately jumped up from his chair when he saw her approach and relieved her of the heavy burden.

A reminder that he still was that guy, the one who got things off high shelves.

And she’d decided to settle back and enjoy him.

The dollhouse had almost made that impossible. Finding it had reminded her of what she’d lost, and when she’d started talking to Brody about her past Topanga visits, all the grief and pain, a toxic mix that she kept locked inside her heart, had nearly poured out.

If she released the poison she was sure it would absolutely ruin her.

But the dangerous moment had passed when Brody lifted her in his arms and carried her back to the sofa.

Preoccupied with his body and what he could do with it to hers, she’d been seduced away from thoughts of her past history and into a happy place of heated kisses and incendiary climaxes.

She sighed, admiring him as he passed around the beverages, his arm muscles flexing under the waffle-weave white Henley he wore. Even now, after another night beside him, watching him move acted like an aphrodisiac. She wanted to lick the line of his jaw and bite his perfect chin.

As if he felt her thoughts, he glanced around and caught her ogling. He grinned.

Her heart moved, and she couldn’t help smiling back. Brody dumped the tray on a nearby table and caught her hand, pulling her into his lap as he retook his seat.

“Stop!” Noting the heads turned their way, her face burned. More than one brow was raised. “What will everyone think?” she whispered, trying to subtly squirm away.

He laughed and kissed her hot cheek, holding her tighter. “Whatever they want.”

So she decided to enjoy the freedom of that idea, too, and leaned back, sipping his beer when he brought it to her mouth. Across the table, his sister Cilla watched them with her Maddox-blue eyes, but there wasn’t any censure in her gaze.

Ash relaxed more and found herself chatting with Alexa, Brody’s twin’s fiancée. They’d traded information during the Laurel Canyon brunch, and she knew the other woman and her family were in the bridal business. On the heels of her polite and innocent inquiry about the latest in wedding dress design—she’d learn long ago how to make small talk—the men in the group groaned.

“I beg you,” Payne said. “Change the subject. If I have to listen to one more discussion of ball gowns versus mermaid style, whether to go full-veil or veil-less, I’m going to stuff napkins in my ears.”

Alexa shook her head. “The TDS is strong in that one,” she murmured.

“TDS?” Ash asked.

“Tulle Derangement Syndrome,” Rose explained. “We’ve discovered it comes over the male of the species on occasion.” She sent an amused glance at the big blond man beside her. “I’ll start to think you don’t want to marry me, Payne.”

“Anytime, anywhere” He wrapped his hand around her neck and drew her close for a kiss. “As long as you’re naked.”

“Come on, Payne,” Cilla said, frowning. “I—”

“Think we should redirect the conversation,” Cami said, jumping to her feet. “Who’s still hungry?”

Ash slid off Brody’s lap. “How about some nachos? Who needs another beer?”

“What about some live music?” Bing looked around Alexa to Cami. “You never go anywhere without your guitar, Cam. Why don’t you go get it?”

“Well…” The other woman glanced at Ash.

“Would you?” It was her day to enjoy, and listening to live music would only add to that. “An impromptu concert would be a treat.”

By the time she’d cleared some tables and brought out a fresh round of drinks and food, Cami had retrieved her instrument and was perched on top of an empty table near the Rock Royalty. She was playing something bright and instrumental as Brody snagged Ash again, but this time she took her own chair. The group had shifted around and now she found herself beside Cilla as everyone settled back to appreciate the music being made.