After Care Read online

  My arm flinched, hoping to loosen my fingers, suddenly feeling dragged instead of led to the roped-off VIP section. But his hold tightened, forcing our palms together, suctioned with the warm dryness of his and the dampness of mine. Nope, never going to have interest in a sweaty, middle-aged woman. I sighed.

  “Take a seat,” he offered, nearly whipping me into a chair, while Ivy climbed on Gage’s lap when he sat on a couch. Tommy pulled a chair next to me, his body angled to where he could watch the boys in the band. His back toward the crowd.

  “Are you their bodyguard or something?” I asked, snorting at the thought, even though his stature suggested it. His brooding stance earlier in the day gave me the same thought.

  “Nah, their manager, but I might as well be a bodyguard. These boys can be a pain in the ass, especially Jared.” He nodded in the direction of a lounge chair and I twisted to look over my shoulder. Brown hair, blue eyed—he looked so all-American to me, but the most innocent could sometimes be the guiltiest. Tattoos laced his arm. In contrast, thick rimmed-glasses covered his eyes. I didn’t know who Jared was any more than I recognized Gage when I met him by the pool, and my age was certainly showing in that lack of knowledge. The feeling of being out of my element grew ten-fold, and I shifted in my seat, tugging at the hem of my suddenly too-short dress, willing it to reach my knees.

  I didn’t know why I even brought this dress with me on our vacation. I supposed I’d hoped for a little family-of-three dinner celebration. I was a survivor of many things, and the Hawaiian trip was proof of it. Still, a form-fitting black dress wasn’t my typical wear, and I was suddenly self-conscious in it. It could have also been the way Tommy’s dark eyes narrowed on my fist at the hem and followed the struggling along my thighs. In the dimly lit bar, his eyes were silky black ink, matching the streaks in his hair. Taking a deep breath, his nostrils flared and he looked away from me, his knuckles stroking the heavy scruff on his jaw—not enough to be a beard, but more than a dusting. It was more silver than black, and the contrast with his hair was mouthwatering. I’d noticed this contemplative motion when we met.

  My eyes followed his to a group of women drawing closer to our section. Of course, I thought, younger women. I glanced away in time to find a waiter headed toward us and held my hand up for a drink. He ignored me.

  “Whatcha want, darlin’?” Tommy’s gruff voice startled me, and I turned back to find him staring at me. Twisting a discarded napkin in my fingers, I was about to speak when he continued.

  “Something fruity? A frozen something-something with an umbrella peeking out the top?”

  “No,” I chuckled. “Why, do I look like a fruity drink kind of woman?” Where did the flirty tone come from? I didn’t flirt. I still couldn’t believe I even spoke to him. He hadn’t spoken to me earlier in the day, and I sensed I was just one more person for him to babysit.

  His eyes roamed my body, starting at my exposed knees. He licked his top lip then rubbed his tongue over the lower one as he rode up my thighs with intense eyes and skipped over the hem to my breasts. My chest heaved, and that’s when I looked away. He was only teasing me.

  “Actually, you look like a fine wine, aged to perfection, sweet on the palate and lingering on the tongue long after you’ve been swallowed.”

  I gasped.

  “What?” A nervous laugh escaped, half thrilled, half deflated. He had to be teasing me, but the richness of his words, the essence of his description, lapped over my skin as if he drank me in, inch by delicious inch, and swirled me in his mouth like a wine sample before swallowing me whole. Just like he’d described. Ignoring my horrified gasp, he lifted two fingers in the air, and the waiter immediately returned.

  “A bottle of…” he paused, his eyes shifting sideways to me. “Red for the lady.”

  “Actually,” I interrupted. “I’ll take a glass of Moscato, please.”

  “Hmmm,” Tommy murmured. “My skills failed me. You seemed to balk at the sweeter things.”

  “Really?” I laughed again. “You just thought I’d like a fruity drink.” I reminded him, pausing as I tilted my head. “What did you have me pegged for then?” Maybe I wanted to be fizzy and funny, like someone young and frivolous.

  “Actually,” he smirked as he emphasized my word, “I had you pegged as—”

  “Tommy, don’t you just adore Edie?” Ivy squealed from behind me, and I spun around to find a girl drunk on love, holding a light pink drink in her hand with her husband’s arm wrapped around her midsection. I sighed again. Oh, how I hoped life would always remain this way for them. My heart pinched, knowing it wouldn’t. Marriage was hard work. One in two marriages still ended in divorce. I wasn’t a statistic; I was a trend.

  I smiled up at Ivy.

  “Edie.” Tommy snapped his fingers next to me. “I thought your name was Debbie.”

  I nodded slowly. Once again, any thoughts of attraction to a man like Tommy Carrigan were futile. It was as if I was a kid again, star-struck by the aura of rock star around him. Only, getting struck by a star would hurt, like an asteroid hitting Earth. Kaboom. I was spiraling out of my orbit, and I’d already been hit by that kind of heat—something I never wanted to experience again.

  “Care,” Gage sighed, shaking his head at Tommy. It must have been short for Carrigan, his last name. “Try to be a nice guy.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone as he peered down at his manager.

  “Edie. Like E and D,” Ivy smirked, glaring at Tommy.

  What’s with these two? I thought, but ignored any questions when my wine arrived. The entire bottle was placed on the table and a glass poured. The sweet bubbles tickled my mouth, and I quickly swallowed the prickling cool refreshment. One glass, then I’d excuse myself, I decided. This was over my head. The pulsing lights. The rhythmic beats. The dim corner for VIPs. I didn’t belong here, and Tommy, not remembering my name, confirmed it.

  “Take Edie dancing,” Ivy cooed, and I spun to gawk up at the blonde getting nibbled on the neck by her husband. I turned back to Tommy, and something in my expression made his eyes widen.

  “I don’t dance,” I blurted, gripping the back of my chair with one hand, the cool glass of wine in the other. I never danced. Never.

  “Everyone dances,” Tommy replied, looking incredulous.

  “Not me, but go right ahead.” I nodded to the filling dance floor and the rising number of girls nearing our section.

  Commotion to our side made Tommy twist in that direction. A few girls had crossed the barricade, and Tommy stood to speak with them. Jared got up as well, patting Tommy on the back as he took half a step toward him. Another band member joined the small montage of men holding back the young girls in their low-cut, too-short, slim-fit outfits.

  “I think I need the bathroom,” I said, jumping up too quickly. I drained the wine in my glass as I watched Jared smile, Tommy’s arms flap in exasperation, and the blond band member reach for a girl, bringing her into the VIP section.

  “I’ll go with you,” Ivy offered, but I shook her off. We weren’t college girls needing to tag team. In fact, I didn’t know why I was there. I was a forty-three-year old woman, and she was…what? All of twenty-eight, if that?

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, holding up a hand after steadying myself.

  “You’ll come back, right?” Her voice squeaked in a yearning lilt. My shoulders sagged. My plan had actually been to use the restroom and escape, apologizing later by feigning a headache.

  “I’ll be right back,” I acquiesced, patting her arm in assurance.

  In the bathroom, I gave myself a pep talk. You can do this, I encouraged, as I stared at my too-wide blue eyes and pursed my bright red lips.

  You don’t need to dance.

  Just have another drink.

  He bought the bottle for you.

  This trip was to celebrate.

  I sighed as I tugged at the wrinkled skin under my chin. The folds sprang back into place after releasing them. My tan skin was striped with rings of a light
er mixture because of the folds, reminding me of an okapi leg. I had to laugh at myself. What else could I do? I didn’t need to impress these people. I wouldn’t ever see them again. Ivy seemed to latch onto me, but I didn’t understand why. She was sweet, though, and I decided I could hold the bold face for another hour. I washed my hands, patted my warm cheeks, and exited the bathroom.

  Upon re-entering the club, my eyes landed instantly on Tommy, dancing. Well, maybe not dancing, but standing on the edge of the dance floor with a woman leaning into him and another pressing playfully at his chest. As I crossed to the VIP section, he turned to face me, possibly feeling the weight of my eyes boring into his broad back.

  It wasn’t fair. How is it men aged well, while women just aged? If I was fine wine, he was a bottle of whiskey, his flavor ripening as the years passed, aging him to perfection over time. Nervous fingers swiped through my wayward curls, and I spun away from his glance. Eyes focused on Ivy, I stalked toward her.

  “Are you all right?” Ivy asked. “You look a little flushed.” She rose and wrapped slender fingers around my arm, guiding me to take her seat.

  “I’m fine,” I replied, and as politely as I could, removed my arm from her grasp. “I think I’m going to call it a night, though.” I pasted on my best false smile. Her eyes pinched, and her sweet face fell a little.

  “Are you sure? I’m sorry if something happened.” I didn’t even know what she could mean, but her genuine concern warmed my insides.

  “What could have possibly happened?” I teased. “Honest, honey, I’m all good. This really isn’t for me, but you have fun. I’ll check on your girls.” Without a care, I reached for her, pulling her into a quick hug. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Maybe Petty should walk you to your room.” Petty? Was that the blond band member’s name? I glanced over my shoulder to see him whispering into the ear of the girl he pulled forward from the crowd.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” I laughed. Petty wasn’t going to willingly step away from his momentary interest.

  “I’ll go with you then.” Ivy stepped toward me as Gage reached for her waist. “Babe?”

  As a young couple, him a rock star and her a mother, I bet they rarely had time out together. I couldn’t begin to comprehend the life of fame, so I didn’t try.

  “Ivy, it’s only across the way.” I rubbed up and down her arm, gave Gage another false smile, and turned for the exit.

  I hadn’t made it down the hallway for the lobby before the sound of heavy feet followed me.

  “Whoa, where you headed so fast?” The gruff voice startled me, as did the hand that gripped my bicep, and I spun, ready to fight off an attack.

  “Tommy?” I gasped, completely shocked that he held my arm, pinning me in place.

  “Why’d you leave so quickly, darlin’?” His hand slipped to my wrist before releasing me. A trail of heat trickled where his palm blazed against me. I shivered at the sensation.

  “I’m heading back to my room. The bar isn’t really my scene.”

  His eyes narrowed on mine, and his lips twisted in a way that made him look like he contemplated something. He took my elbow and started tugging me in the direction of large double doors.

  “What the heck?” I muttered, struggling only slightly under his grip. He pulled the door open with ease, drawing me into what appeared to be an empty ballroom. Tugging the door shut behind him, we were submerged in momentary darkness. “Are you insane?”

  “Maybe,” he murmured before stepping closer. The assault of the air conditioning disappeared the moment his body came near mine. Heat emanated from his presence. “Why did you leave?”

  “It wasn’t my thing,” I repeated.

  “And what is your thing?” His arms crossed, glaring at me as our eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. I wasn’t about to tell him my thing was a good book and maybe a rerun on Passionflix. Reading passed the hours, filling my heart with adventures I’d never experience. I was good alone, even if I didn’t always like it. Lonely most nights, but it wasn’t something you spilled to a stranger.

  I crossed my arms to match his stance. “What do you think is my thing?”

  “Do you always answer a question with another question?”

  “Why?”

  “See, you did it again.” The hint of a smile filled his statement, and I relaxed my shoulders. I reached for my head, then tried to disguise the nervous habit by twisting a too-short piece of hair around my index finger.

  “I would have danced with you,” he said, as if he’d do it for my sake—do me the favor. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, hackles bristling like a dog ready to bite.

  “Well, thank you for that generous offer, but as I said, I don’t dance.” My hand lowered from my hair and fisted at my side.

  “Why not?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “You did it again.” He chuckled, and I huffed. I hadn’t noticed the habit, but with my previous condition, asking questions was a necessity.

  “It’s still early. Let me guess where you were headed.” He paused, considering me for a moment, like he did when he was trying to figure out what wine I drank. He scratched at his neck, something I found strangely seductive, and a spark flickered inside me. “Clandestine rendezvous with someone?”

  “No.” I laughed, thinking he was more capable of such a thing than me.

  “Off to read the latest mystery thriller?”

  “No,” I scoffed, trembling. He was getting closer to the truth.

  “That leaves washing your hair or a good time with Mr. Bob.” He motioned toward my lower regions.

  “What?” I barked, but he ignored me and continued.

  “Or are you going to call your cats at home, check up on how they’re doing?”

  “Thank you for making me feel even older than I already feel about myself.” My eyes narrowed. I didn’t own cats. I didn’t even like cats. And none of this was the point.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” His arms uncrossed, and he stepped toward me. Our chests rose and fell in opposing rhythm, until slowly, our breathing regulated, falling into a pattern with one another, but I couldn’t say who followed whose lead.

  “I saw that girl leaning on you,” I snapped, shifting the conversation completely and sounding like a jealous girlfriend, but I couldn’t be jealous, not really. “I get that you’re used to younger things.”

  His dark eyes widened in disbelief, then narrowed to black slits. “You know, darlin’, jealousy is an ugly shade of green, but on you, the color is beautiful.”

  I straightened. Was there a compliment in that statement?

  “You know what your problem is, though?” A hand came to my hip, and I should have swatted it away. Any sane women would have done that. Any woman trapped in a dark ballroom, standing too close to a stranger whose body heat was higher than ninety-eight-point-six degrees would have pushed him away. But he made me want to be a little crazy. Maybe the treatment had damaged my brain cells after all.

  “Please, enlighten me,” I bit out, wanting to cross my arms as a shield, but he stood too close. My hip was tugged forward.

  “You need to be sexed up, and often.” His voice lowered, his tone dropping like pebbles plopping into a pond.

  “Did you…Did you just try to quote Gone with the Wind?” I stammered, appalled that he’d ruined one of the greatest quotes of all time, but thrilled at the same time, that he misquoted it on me. Flutters rushed through my lower abdomen in a way I hadn’t felt in a long, long, long time. His eyes sparkled and another thought occurred.

  “Sexed up?” I choke-barked.

  “I’d use a different word, but I’m sensing you’re too much of a lady, and you’d be offended by it.”

  Suddenly, I felt more offended that he couldn’t say what he wanted to do to me. I didn’t think I was that uptight. That old.

  “Try me,” I whispered through gritted teeth.

  “Nah, I think sexed up is good enough
for you, darlin’. Anything else would be too much.”

  My heart dropped. He was correct in many ways. I was well past the point of wanting my body parts crassly labeled or physical interactions demeaned. On the other hand, I also wanted someone to want me that passionately, just once in my lifetime. To clarify, I wanted someone who just wanted to fuck me, like being with me was the greatest moment of their life. Like they would never get enough, deep enough, connected enough—to me. It was a silly fantasy.

  “I see,” I offered, my voice quiet. My shoulders fell, defeated. I knew what he meant. It was nearly the same thing my ex-husband said. I wasn’t fun anymore. Tommy’s hand remained at my hip, but the other hand brushed back my barely-there hair, caressing around my ear. There were not enough locks to curl behind it. It was another reminder of how incomplete I felt.

  “Actually,” he teased. “I don’t think you do see. You’re that fine wine. Perfected and waiting to breathe. And I’m sensing you’re ready to be uncorked and sampled.”

  My mouth fell open, a popping sound filling the space between us, and that’s when his mouth descended.

  Two warm, large, plump lips melted over me.

  And I stilled instantly.

  It had been nearly two years since I’d been kissed, and it definitely had not been like this. His mouth moved over mine, too harsh at first, too aggressive, until he realized I wasn’t responding. Thick fingers combed into my short hair, and his hand at my hip tugged me flush against him.

  “Kiss me back, darlin’,” he growled against my mouth.

  My lips followed his lead, tentative at first. A tug of the lower lip. A suck on the upper bow. A lick across the seam, and I opened for him. My body crushed against his, arms sliding up his firm biceps to grip his shoulders. My tongue met his, curling and colliding, crashing with his as I breathed him into me, willing him to get closer. My breasts remained firm against his chest, and I nearly cried at the lack of sensation, but the rest of my body responded. The drumming between my thighs beat triple time, making up for other areas.