Forever Rockers (2 page)

The roadie held on to me for several minutes without saying a word. Once he’d given Emmie enough of a head start, he pushed me down onto the bed and followed after her. I sat there, staring at the closed door, hating Ember Jameson more than I’d ever hated anyone in my life.

She’d pay.

One day she would pay for taking Shane away from me.

Four Years Later

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Shane Stevenson!”

I sipped my glass of champagne while around me the lights went out and a spotlight shone on the dance floor. I pressed my lips together as Shane Stevenson pulled his new wife into his arms and the first notes of John Legend’s “All of Me” filled the air. I watched with a roll of my eyes as Harper Stevenson’s chin trembled before her husband pulled her close and they danced their first dance together as man and wife.

What had he seen in that plain little nobody? It was a thought I’d had more than once in the last two years. In fact, from the moment I saw that first picture of the man I loved with his ‘first girlfriend’ as the paps had said. With her caramel hair that was more on the blond side, her thin body, small chest and fat ass, she was definitely not the usual type Shane went for. That was probably the appeal then, I figured.

The paps, like always, had gotten it wrong though. I had been Shane Stevenson’s first girlfriend, his first love. If it hadn’t been for a certain conniving little bitch, Shane and I would have still been together, and Harper Jones—Harper Stevenson now—would never have been in the picture. This would have been my wedding. That would have been me out there in that too-beautiful dress being sung to by the drop-dead sexy rocker, his deep voice mixing perfectly with John Legend’s.

My glass was empty before the song was even half over and I took a fresh glass from a waiter who had paused while the bride and groom danced. If you asked me if the wedding had been beautiful, I couldn’t have told you. No one but close family and friends had been invited to the actual ceremony. The reception, however, was the party of all parties.

I hadn’t been surprised when I’d gotten the invitation in the mail. I’d known from the moment Shane had announced to the world he was marrying his plain mouse of a girlfriend that I would get that little piece of mail. As punishments went, marrying someone else to get back at me was pushing the line, but I could forgive him. Had forgiven him. Hell, I could have forgiven him anything and he knew it. He, however, had yet to forgive me for marrying someone else.

But he would.

Eventually.

It wasn’t like I’d had a choice in the matter, after all. My parents had been ready to disown me before I’d finally given in and agreed to marry the man they deemed worthy of becoming their son-in-law. It was either marry the man or find a job, and God knew I wasn’t the working type.

Shane had been angry. Hadn’t returned any of the letters I’d sent him explaining why I’d married Reginald Brennen. He’d gone wild two years ago when I’d announced my engagement. The tabloids and more reputable weekly magazines had shown him getting drunk on a nightly basis and then getting into a fight at a nightclub. That same night he’d been spotted with Harper Jones, so I had only myself to blame for their relationship and hadn’t been upset when the two had become a couple. I’d known he was just trying to get back at me.

Which was exactly what he’d done today, by marrying the little nobody gold-digging slut.

Once again, I reminded myself I had no right to get mad or feel hurt, but of course I was.

Like I knew my own marriage wouldn’t last, I was sure that Shane’s marriage to Harper wouldn’t either. My marriage to Reginald was just to pacify my parents until they died…or he did. Then I would divorce the man and marry the one I really wanted—the one I should have been with all along. Shane would do the same when he knew I was free.

Then we would finally be together.

Like we were supposed to be four years ago.

The lights came back up with the last strings of the song and my gaze went past Shane and his bride to the redhead standing just behind them on the sidelines. Emmie Jameson—now Emmie Armstrong—stood with a bright smile on her face with her husband and daughter. For the first time all day my anger started to bubble up and I clenched the delicate stem of the champagne glass hard, nearly breaking the expensive crystal.

Time after time
precious little
Emmie had kept me from being with Shane. She’d blocked my every attempt to see or even speak to him. It was her fault Shane and I weren’t together now, and I would never forgive the conniving little bitch for stepping in our way. Once Shane knew how his adopted little sister had stood in our way, once I was free and told him how she had kept us apart, I knew he wouldn’t forgive her either.

That smile would be gone forever from that little cunt’s beautiful face. I would never let Shane see her again, not that he would want to once he knew what she’d done to us.

“You are thirsty this evening, aren’t you, darling?”

I forced a smile to my lips as I tilted my head back to look up at Reginald. My husband was a very good-looking man with dark eyes and a slightly sun-kissed complexion. He worked out religiously or I never would have been able to stand for him to touch me, but it was his money, and only his money, that had tempted me when my parents had started making noises about disinheriting me.

“I am, my love,” I murmured with a small smile that I knew looked adoring. I’d stood in front of my mirror until that particular look was perfected. The more Reginald thought I loved him, the more money he spent on me. “Do you mind?”

He stepped closer and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Of course not, darling. Drink as much as you want. Stevenson has pulled out all the stops for Harper.”

For the next few hours I drank as much of the expensive champagne as I could get my hands on and danced with my husband as well as several other guests. I was even gracious enough to pause long enough to congratulate the happy couple.

“Thanks for coming,” Harper said to Reginald as she kissed his cheek. “This means a lot to me that you and your wife would be here for us today.”

“We wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else, would we, darling?” Reginald wrapped his arm around my waist and smiled charmingly down at me.

“No, of course not. It was an honor to be invited to your wedding reception. Thank you for having us,” I murmured, glancing at Harper as she smiled so lovingly up at Shane. “Congratulations to you both.”

“Thanks,” Shane said with a smirk at me, but I could see the anger blazing out of his eyes. The hurt. The pain. My heart clenched at the sight.
I’m so sorry, my love
, I wanted to say but didn’t.
One day
, I promised him with my eyes.
One day I will make this all up to you.

After a few more minutes the couple moved on to speak to their other guests. I went back to our table with Reginald. While he went off to get me another glass of champagne, I let my eyes drift to Shane who was now out on the dance floor with his little niece in his arms.

Little Mia Armstrong giggled as her beloved uncle swung her around to the music, singing along with her to the words of the popular pop song that the little girl obviously enjoyed. Even though I’d never really liked children, the sight was cute and I found myself actually smiling at the two.

Shane would make a good father, and for him and only him would I dare to even think about having a child of my own. It would make him happy, so I was sure I would give him a son or daughter. Eventually. I still had a few more years to enjoy my stunning figure.

While I continued to watch, I saw Emmie gazing adoringly after them, her big green eyes smiling happily at her daughter and adopted brother. The world knew that Emmie worshiped her daughter, the little creature who was her spitting image.

What, I wondered as my hate for the woman continued to grow with each passing second that I looked at her, would Emmie Armstrong do if something happened to that lovely little girl?

Shane

Germany

End of April, Present Day

Harper was the first one awake. She was up, already showered, and looked ready to conquer the world. With a yawn I sat up in bed as my beautiful wife rushed around our hotel suite with the force of a tornado. Normally Harper was a slave to sleep, craved it almost as much as she did my touch, but today was important to her.

To us.

Today was the last shot we had. At least that was what we’d agreed when Emmie had found Dr. Bambach, the leading fertility specialist in the world. After more than a year of seeing one doctor after another, being told repeatedly that Harper was never likely to get pregnant and having to watch her heart break a little more with each slap in the face, we were ready to hear what Bambach had to say. Harper had promised me that she would take what the doctor said as gospel this time, and if it wasn’t the news that she wanted—which I knew was the most likely scenario—that we could finally talk about the other options we had available to us.

With the money we had, the options were endless. There was adoption, something I was more than willing to do. The world was full of kids who needed someone to love and protect them. We were already godparents to Dallas and Axton’s baby boy, Cannon. But if what Harper wanted was a child who was part of both of us, we could find a surrogate and she could carry our child—something Harper had refused to think about in the past because she wanted to carry our baby herself. Or so she claimed. I knew the real reason, even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud.

I knew that she would see any surrogate as someone more worthy of me than herself. Her insecurities still hadn’t completely faded.

Beautiful little idiot.

Harper hadn’t believed me when I’d told her that it didn’t matter to me if we never had a child of our own. If we never had a child—period. She was all I wanted in life, all I needed. She still had no idea just how much I loved her. How much I worshiped her. I doubted I would ever fully be able to show her how much she meant to me, and I was learning to live with that.

Even though she had promised me she would accept whatever Dr. Bambach said and wouldn’t let her heart be broken if we got bad news yet again, I knew it had been a lie. There was no way her heart wouldn’t take a beating if we got bad news yet again. I was trying to prepare myself for the aftermath of the doctor’s visit. She would cry, silent little tears that would shred my heart. She didn’t sob anymore because she knew how much it hurt me to hear them, but that made it worse because I knew she wasn’t letting out her grief like she should.

After the tears would come the weeks of depression where she would fall into some dark hell that I was helpless to pull her out of. Ranger would mope around the house, cuddling with her and loving on her. Yeah, I was jealous of that little mutt because I knew he could help heal Harper’s heart more than I could.

If things went as I was expecting them to today, then I figured Harper wouldn’t pull out of her depression until mid-summer. Ranger would enjoy that because she always went on a shopping spree for the dog, buying him toys and treats and spoiling him even more than usual. Then she would remember me, finally, and we would go back to being the happy couple we were supposed to be. I was okay with her forgetting about me for a few weeks, knew that she needed that time to herself to get over the fact that she wouldn’t ever experience having our child growing in her stomach. I loved her enough not to be hurt that she pushed me away during that short time.

I just hoped it didn’t last too long this time around. Just as I hoped it would be the last time—like she had promised—and we could finally move on.

In the process of pulling her long hair into a ponytail, Harper saw that I was awake and dropped down next to me on the bed. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her against my chest, my lips already searching for hers. Our good-morning kiss was slow, full of all the love and passion that I knew would never fade even if we lived to be a hundred years old. I felt her starting to melt against me and knew if I didn’t pull the E-brake we would end up being late for her doctor’s appointment.

Reluctantly pulling back, I brushed a soft kiss over the tip of her nose and nudged her to get up. Selfishly I knew I wouldn’t be getting out of bed until she did. As long as she was still on the mattress then I was going to be too, and that just begged for all kinds of delicious things that I ached to do to her.

With a happy little grin, she got up and finished tying her hair with the black band she still had. Dressed simply in jeans and a T-shirt that nearly matched the color of her violet eyes, Harper looked like a teenager rather than the twenty-five-year-old woman she was. I wanted to strip her and lick every inch of her beautiful body, but I knew that wasn’t possible.