Strings attached, p.8
Strings Attached, page 8
She actually had no idea what he’d done after she’d left, but she couldn’t say that to Greg.
Wait? Did Greg think Sebastian would fall into old, bad habits?
Her back went stiff at the thought. She refused to believe he would. And she couldn’t believe Greg would think that, either.
“Why’d you leave him there?” Greg asked.
Forcing a put-upon sigh, she put her hands on her hips and gave him her patented exasperated glare. “He’s a grown man. He seemed fine when I left. And he’s been clean for almost a year.”
And you were the one having trouble breathing.
And there was her sister’s voice again.
Greg’s gaze narrowed even more. Damn, the man was way too perceptive. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Time to get back to work. “Nothing. I need to get moving. I have too much to do today. And so do you. You have that meeting with Val on set this afternoon, and you’ve got phone calls with John Davidson and Peter MacDonald this morning. How’s the new treatment coming?”
He didn’t answer right away, just stared at her like he could read her mind. Sometimes, she actually thought he could. Pretty damn freaky, but then it worked both ways. It’s why they worked so well together.
Greg sighed. “And what’s on your busy agenda for the day?”
She stifled a sigh of relief. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go, but he’d let her off the hook for right now. “I’m interviewing receptionists.”
His lips curved. “Well, damn, finally easing up on the reins a little. Good to know.”
She wanted to stick her tongue out at him but settled for rolling her eyes. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t think I can do everything. I just know I can do it better than most people.”
Greg was still laughing when she turned to head back to her office.
But she stopped short when she saw Sebastian standing at the end of the hall.
“Uh, we got any bandages around here?”
Then he held up this fingers. His bloody fingers.
And everything went wavy for a few seconds.
“Oh my god.”
She caught a glimpse of the shock on Sebastian’s face as she swayed, her eyes closing for several seconds.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Sebastian running toward her but felt Greg’s hands catch her arms from behind and hold her upright.
“You’ve managed to find Tru’s one weakness,” she heard Greg say. “A little blood and she ends up on the floor.”
“I do not.” She sucked in a few deep breaths, fighting against the dizziness. “I’m still standing, aren’t I?”
“Not really, babe.”
Greg’s wry tone had the desired effect and her backbone straightened as she blinked away her weakness. And stiffened her muscles to stand on her own.
“Well, I am now.”
She forced herself to meet Sebastian’s gaze and found herself grinning at his stunned expression.
“Well, damn. Look at that. He’s speechless.”
Sebastian shook his head, sighing as he took a step back. “Nah, I’m just amazed that Miss Truly Perfect has any weaknesses.”
His statement held so little of his usual prickly teasing that her back didn’t immediately go up.
And she had the distinct feeling he was becoming a very huge weakness.
With a shake of her head, she decided to let that one slide because he really was bleeding. And it was dripping on the floor.
Without looking at his hands again, she took another step away from Greg, satisfied her rebellious knees would hold her now, and waved Sebastian toward the office next to hers where they kept a fully stocked first-aid kit.
Yes, yes. She was that prepared. Sue her.
“So, what happened?” She opened the large white box on the wall and removed disinfectant, gauze pads, bandages, and tape.
“Not really sure. I guess . . . I haven’t played like that for a while and I split the skin.”
As she turned, she caught sight of Greg in the doorway, but he didn’t stay. Just nodded once, then disappeared.
And shit, they were alone again.
“Here, give me the stuff.” He held out his left hand, the one that wasn’t actively bleeding. “I can do it myself. I don’t wanna get blood on your clothes if you keel over again.”
“I’ll be fine. Give me your hand.”
He huffed but held out his hand. “Just put on the bandages. No need to get all fancy.”
“Let me clean them first, you big baby. Don’t want them to get infected, do you? Here, sit down. I can’t do this while you hover over me.”
But when he sat, she realized he was now looking straight into her eyes. Before she could avoid his gaze by staring at his chest.
Those eyes were more blue than green today, a stormy blue that made her want to cup his jaw in her hands and kiss him.
Shit.
Still standing, she quickly looked down at his hands and had to suck in a deep breath.
“Damn, Tru. Are you really okay?”
She nodded, not looking at him. “I’m fine. Let me clean you up and you can get back to work.”
Neither of them said anything while she used hydrogen peroxide and gauze to clean and bandage the two fingers he’d split open. She noticed then how scarred his fingers were, almost as if he’d taken a knife at some point and slashed them.
Still holding on to his hands, she rubbed her thumbs over his fingertips, barely realizing what she was doing.
“You play as long and as much as we do and you end up with a few scars.” His voice was a low rumble that hit a place deep inside her. “I haven’t been playing enough lately to rebuild the calluses. Until then, I’ll bleed a little. No biggie.”
“Do they hurt?”
He shrugged. “You get used to it.”
She heard something in his voice that made her look into his eyes again, trying to get a read on him.
He watched her just as intently, then he sighed and glanced back down at his fingers.
“Look, about last night . . .” he said but didn’t continue.
Yes, they really did need to have this talk so they could put what happened behind them. Forget it happened. Hopefully.
Yeah, right.
She nodded. “I think we can both agree that last night was an anomaly brought on by stress.”
His head shot up, his gaze locked back on hers, the intensity she’d seen there last night flaring again.
Her heart began to race and her lungs were suddenly fighting for air.
“No.” He said the word deliberately, as if he thought she wouldn’t understand him. “I don’t think we can.”
She blinked. “And why would you think that?”
He’d thrown her for a loop. She would’ve bet good money that he’d be just as anxious as she was to forget the whole incident had ever happened.
Twenty-four hours before, she’d been so angry with him she was ready to tear off his head.
Then last night . . . She wanted to write that off as heat-of-the-moment insanity.
But the look in his eyes was telling her something completely different. Something she didn’t think she wanted to know.
She had to suck in another breath before she could answer. “Because I think we both know it was a mistake.”
He went silent, and she chanced a quick look at his face. And got caught in his now warm-sea-blue eyes. The emotion she saw there was stunning. And confusing as all hell.
He looked like he wanted to kiss her again.
She found herself taking a step away before she realized she was moving.
“You don’t have one damn clue what I think.” He stood, and her eyes followed him all the way up. “So I’m going to give you a hint.”
Once again, she saw him coming and did nothing to stop him. And this time, since she knew what to expect, she also knew how much she wanted it.
His lips sealed over hers with a singular purpose. To show her exactly why she was so totally full of shit. Why last night hadn’t been a mistake and why doing it again, this time naked, would be a very, very good idea.
His hands came to frame her face and hold her steady for his devastatingly thorough kiss. His tongue parted her lips and slid against hers with the express purpose of making her wet.
Her body responded immediately, as if she’d been waiting for him to kiss her again, to touch her and make it hard for her to breathe. For her nipples to peak and her breasts to ache for him to touch them, mold them with his palms.
God, she was getting wet from the sensuous slide of his tongue against hers and the feel of his palms against her jaw.
How did he do this to her? How did he make her want him so badly that nothing else mattered?
Her hands reached for his hips to draw him closer—
And he took a step back.
Her eyes flew open to find him staring down at her, his eyes an intense blue now.
“That was no fucking mistake.”
Then he turned around and walked away.
Chapter Six
Fucking sonovabitch.
Still breathing like he’d run a five-minute mile after smoking a pack of cigarettes, Baz slammed the door to the studio behind him and briefly considered locking it.
Not that he thought she’d follow him, but because he wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to go back out there and seduce her out of her clothes.
Damn it, she’d pissed him off when she’d said last night had been a mistake. Even though that’s exactly what he’d been expecting her to say, it’d still made him want to show her how wrong she really was.
Yeah, but where the fuck do we go from here?
Good question. And here he was, hiding from the answer.
No, he wasn’t hiding. He was giving her time to think. Yeah, that was exactly what he was doing.
But it also gave him way too much time to think.
And he’d been doing enough of that already. Now, he needed to do some acting.
He’d come to a couple of conclusions while he’d been playing earlier. One: He needed to call Nik. It was way past time.
And two: He wanted to kiss Tru again. And he didn’t want to stop kissing her.
She hadn’t exactly said no. In fact, he was pretty damn sure she’d been reaching for him when he’d stepped away.
So, yeah. He was going to kiss her again. He just needed to go a little slower than he was used to. She wasn’t a groupie looking to score after a concert, a fan looking for another notch in her bedpost.
She was the girl next door who didn’t date guys with tattoos who played in rock bands.
He was going to be the one to change her mind. But first he needed to be the kind of guy she did want to go out with. One who had his shit together.
Which all started with a phone call.
Grabbing his phone off the top of the piano, he tapped at screens until he found the number he was looking for. He didn’t stop to think. He just punched it.
It rang. And rang. And rang.
And Nik didn’t pick up.
“Fucking leave me a message or don’t fucking leave me a message. Don’t care which. Maybe I’ll call you back. Probably not.”
Baz had a grin on his face by the time the beep sounded.
Then he took a deep breath. “Hey, it’s me. Call me back.”
He tapped the screen harder than normal to end the call.
Was he a little relieved that Nik hadn’t picked up? Yeah, maybe. But that just gave him more time to work. Which he couldn’t do with his fingers wrapped up tight. He’d been too involved in watching Tru to realize she’d doubled wrapped his fingers like he’d severed an artery.
The girl didn’t do anything in half measures, did she?
He’d started to unwrap his mummy hands when movement from the mixing booth caught his eye. He saw Greg come through the door and head straight for the studio.
“You okay?” Greg pointed at his hands.
“Yeah, fine. Common casualty.” He picked up the roll of medical tape he’d grabbed from the other room before he’d left Tru standing there and held it up.
Then Baz smiled. He couldn’t keep it contained anymore and Greg raised an eyebrow at him.
“You gonna tell me what the grin is for?”
“I think I’m finished with the score.”
Greg’s eyes widened. “Seriously?’
“Yeah. Listen.”
As Greg slid onto the nearest stool, Baz turned to the piano, opened the laptop and queued the film to the right spot before starting to play.
When he was finished, Greg’s smile was the only reassurance he needed to know that he’d gotten it right.
“Holy shit.” Greg shook his head. “I think we’ve got ourselves a film. You did a damn good job on this, Baz. You know that, right?”
Yeah, he was pretty proud of his work but it was nice to hear it from the man who’d believed in him. “Thanks. I think it’s pretty fucking awesome myself.”
“So what sparked the breakthrough?” Greg crossed his arms over his chest, his expression intent, and Baz had the distinct feeling Greg knew exactly what’d sparked his creativity. The guy had an uncanny way of seeing things no one wanted him to see.
Like Baz’s attraction to a certain woman who happened to be in the same building with them. And who he’d kissed just a few minutes ago.
“Saw some old friends last night.”
Greg nodded. “Tru told me you ended up at a bar. Xander’s place?”
“Yeah. Zach was there. We talked.”
“And . . .”
“It was . . . helpful.” He couldn’t help his shrug. “I miss ’em. I’m not sure I realized how much until I saw Zach. So I called Nik.”
Greg’s expression didn’t change. “Did you actually talk to him? You guys didn’t exactly part on the best terms the last time you saw him.”
No, they’d tried to pummel each other when Nik had tracked him down at Haven a few weeks ago.
“Didn’t pick up. Left a message.”
“Think he’ll call back or do I need to be ready for another cage match?”
Baz grimaced. “Hopefully we got that of our systems.”
“So, you wanna tell me what’s going on with you and Tru?”
Baz blinked and his eyes went wide for a second before he managed to cover his reaction. “I don’t know what—”
Greg rolled his eyes. “Save it. You don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine. But I’m telling you right now, you don’t wanna screw with her. Got me?”
Was Greg warning him away from Tru? Did Greg think he wasn’t good enough for her?
Fuck that. “I’m not screwing with her.”
Holding up one hand, Greg shook his head. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m not telling you to stay away from her. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. I’m only saying that you don’t want to mess with that girl’s emotions because she will rip you to pieces and leave you bleeding. Then again, if you’re sure you wanna pull that trigger, I say more power to you, because Tru is one of the best people I know. I love her like family and if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
Baz blinked at the utter sincerity in Greg’s tone but he wasn’t surprised. Greg had known Tru a lot longer—
Greg’s hand landed on his shoulder. “But know this, you’re family now, too. And anyone hurts you, I’ll beat their heads in.”
Then Greg got up and headed for the door, leaving Baz to stare after him.
“I like the raw sound of that take. I think that’s the one we should use for the film. Do whatever you need to make that happen so I can put this damn thing to bed and we can make the distribution deadline. I’m sick of waiting for people to rip me apart. It’s been a while. I kinda miss it.”
The door shut behind Greg and Baz sucked in a deep breath like he’d been holding it in for hours. And maybe he had.
So smart guy, what the fuck do you do now?
* * *
“Trudeau, hi. It’s Cory Ryder. We met last night at dinner. How are you?”
Her brain was occupied with a million other details at the moment and Trudeau’s immediate response was all business.
“Hello, Mr. Ryder. It’s nice to hear from you again. Greg’s on the phone at the moment but I could take a message.”
“Actually, I was calling to speak to you.”
Automatically comparing the time on her laptop to the arrival time of her first receptionist candidate on her schedule, she calculated that she had approximately five free minutes.
“Absolutely, what can I help you with?”
“I was wondering if I could take you to dinner tomorrow night.”
Her brain went completely blank and her mouth fell open. It was so not what she’d been expecting to hear that his words didn’t quite compute. Although she knew exactly what he was asking.
“Oh.”
Cory’s low laughter made her blush, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. It was such a gauche response, but her brain had yet to catch up to this morning’s events. She hated to admit Baz had rattled her.
He’d kissed her again and—
“I hope that’s a good response to my question and not a bad one.”
“Actually . . . it is. I’m sorry. I was caught up in something when I answered the phone and my brain’s still trying to catch up.”
“Well, then let me make sure you understood the question. I’d like to take you to dinner tomorrow night. Are you available?”
Well, technically, yes, she was available.
And she’d been attracted to Cory last night. At least, the part of her brain that thought he’d make a great catch had been attracted.
Handsome, great smile, and a nice body. Smart, too, because Greg didn’t typically deal with stupid people. And friends with Tyler and Jared, so he wasn’t a freak show.
And you’re hesitating, why?
“Uh . . .”
“And just so we’re clear, this isn’t a business meeting. I enjoyed talking to you last night.”
Oh, well, hell. The man had no problems laying things right out.
So . . . what the hell?
“Sure, I’d like that.”
