I Want You to Want Me (Rock Star Romance #2) (9 page)

“Can you imagine Jimmy Rogers living like this?” Cooper asked.

“Jimmy who?” Violet said.

Derek cut her a surprised look and then smiled. Of course she knew the former Paradox singer. She also knew he’d blown himself up.

“No, and that’s why he burned out,” Slater said. “You want to go over the list of bands that fell apart over drugs? Of rock stars that OD’d?”

“Guys, Irwin wants to work with you because he thinks you’re phenomenal,” Emmie said. “There’s no one better in the industry to help you realize your potential.”

“I want that.” The intensity on Derek’s expression caught Violet by surprise.

She didn’t think for a second they’d vote her off the bus. She was too valuable to them.

No, them getting rid of her wasn’t her concern. What struck her was that
she
didn’t want to leave
them
.

She didn’t get attached to her clients. She became fond of them, sure. But this . . .

She cut a glance to Derek, her heart beating double-time.

No,
this
had never happened before.

Violet stood with her back against the plate glass window of the old school gym. Seventies rock played on the speakers, and the place smelled like a hamper of dirty socks.

Processing the information she’d just gotten, she thought of Derek’s question the other day. He wanted to know if she was as composed inside as she was outside. Basically, he wanted to know if she felt anything. Most people who’d spent time with her asked the same question. Right then, talking to Francesca about the news she’d been anticipating, she had an answer.

She felt
everything
. She just didn’t show it.

And right then, she felt fear. Pure, unadulterated fear.

But no one looking at her would guess it. Because she shut down. Just flipped the sign over to
Closed
.

“What, um, what did you do?” Violet forced the words out of her throat. Because she needed to know, and she couldn’t just stand there like a stone statue.

“I just went outside, asked how I could help her,” Francesca said.

Violet could picture the realtor checking out her property—her kitten heels sinking into the moist earth, features scrunching in disgust at the rotted wood of her
porch, the moss growing on the roof shingles, the dusty, ancient bales of hay crowding the barn.

And she could hear the woman’s assessment.
Tear-down
.

Every muscle in her body clenched at the thought of Jed watching the wrecking ball take down the home that had raised generations of Walkers. Could the amount of laughter spilled, tears shed, fights waged inside that house even be measured? Babies had been born, board games tossed in frustration, endless meals eaten, dirty footprints tracked onto the wood floor, vases shattered as kids chased one another through the many rooms. Lives lived, still breathing within the walls.

But, of course, she’d known this day would come. Jedidiah’s kids wouldn’t just abandon the property. “What did she say?”

“She said she’d been engaged to sell the place.”

“Right. Of course. I expected this.” Violet drew in a tight breath, twisting a strand of hair around a finger. She watched the guys in the ring learning the boxing stance. Emmie was right there with them, in her Spandex gym shorts and tank top. She looked adorable with her arms up, facing big, muscled Slater Vaughn.

“I told her the property wasn’t for sale,” Francesca said. “I told her about your agreement with the owner. I even asked if she wanted to see the contract, but she said she didn’t care. She had a contract with the owner’s adult children to sell the property, so that’s what she’s going to do. She said she’d email me the contact for their lawyer.”

“Okay.” She turned to face the window. “Will you forward it to me?”

“Let me take care of it, my love. It’s easier for me to fax the contract. You’re somewhere in Virginia right now, and you’ve got enough on your plate. Other than presenting the contract, there’s nothing we can do right now.”

“Should we hire our own attorney?” Why was she saying
we
? This problem was hers. Alone.

“Why don’t we hold off for now? They might be perfectly happy with the contract, considering they get paid for the land.”

“Eventually. I suspect they want the money now.”

“Let’s not invent scenarios. Let’s go about our lives and handle each challenge as it comes up. We’ve got a lot going for us in support of the contract. It’s not like Jed suffered from dementia. Anyone in the nursing home would attest to the fact he was of sound mind and body up to the moment he passed.”

“But what if—” A big wall of heat behind her had her swinging around to find Derek standing beside her, all fierce warrior. His intensity sent a bolt of electricity winging through her body. Automatically, she gave him her placid work smile.

But he wasn’t having it. “You all right?” Sweat dripped down his face, and it was just so overwhelming that he bothered to care.

“Fine. You better get back in the ring. Don’t want to miss anything.”

But he didn’t go. He folded his arms over his chest, braced his legs apart. Letting her know he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Francesca, I should go. My
client
needs my attention.” She turned away from him, lowered her voice. “So you’ll take care of it?”

“I’ll fax the napkin with a simple letter explaining who you are and how you met Mr. Walker.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” The idea that she could lose it—the little spot of land she hoped to call home one day—made her stomach hurt. And God, Jed. He could’ve sold the land before moving into the nursing home, obviously, but he’d held on to it. Wanting to pass it on to someone who loved it just as much as he did. His kids clearly didn’t.

But she did.

“Could you also add that he
wanted
me to own the land? Just say that he loved to look out his window and see miles and miles of wildflowers. It made him happy.” Long after he could no longer work his own land, he’d still gaze out that window, as if seeing the way it had once been. She saw how it had killed him to see those fallow fields, overgrown with weeds.

And the day she’d come out there with bags of wildflower seeds, his whole face had lit up. He’d loved the idea—but even better? He’d lived to see the results. Not two years later, she’d watched him sit on his screened-in porch and enjoy the endless fields of flowers. He’d been so happy.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Francesca said. “I know the story. I’m going to tell those damn attorneys that you started planting wildflowers because you couldn’t stand to see him so unhappy. And that you’ve now turned it into a profitable business, just as he’d hoped. I’ve got this, V. No one’s going to take it away from you.”

“I hope you’re right. Thank you, Francesca.”

“Always.”

She disconnected, closing her eyes and seeing her flowers swaying in an ocean-scented breeze.

A big hand squeezed her shoulder, urging her to turn toward him. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing. I’ve got it under control.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

She looked to the ring, where the guys were still doing their footwork. “You don’t want to miss your first lesson.”

He tipped her chin to him. “I don’t care about my damn lesson. I want to know what’s gotten you upset.”

“It’s nothing to do with you or the band.”

“No shit? You know, I actually suspected you had a life outside of us. Now tell me.”

It was the leader in him. He couldn’t help himself. But whatever, she’d give him a brief description. “Okay, well, a realtor visited my property today. She wants to put it on the market. It’s a long story, but it’s going to be fine. My friend lives there, and she’s going to take care of everything.”

Derek sat down on a chair, completely overwhelming it with his big body, hard muscles, and intense energy. He patted the seat next to him.

She laughed. “Why do you care?”

He took her hand, gave it a tug, and she relented, falling into the seat beside him. “See, that’s just weird. It’s a good thing that I care. What kind of world do you live in that people don’t care what happens to you?”

“The foster care world?”

Pain flashed across his features. “Well, you’re in my world now. So tell me what’s going on.”

She couldn’t deny the zing of happiness that shot through her. She liked that he cared. And she believed that he actually did. “You remember that day care job I had in East Hampton?”

He nodded, wiping a trickle of sweat off his temple.

“Every year we took the kids on a trip to Jed’s farm. They got to feed the animals, ride a pony, eat grapes right off the vine, and then we’d take them down to the beach for a picnic and swim. They loved it. Even after I stopped working at the club, I’d visit Jed. But he got too old to work the land, and that kind of broke him. I asked about his kids, but he just waved them off. Said they had no interest. So one day I asked if I could seed the land with wildflowers. And he let me. For the next couple of years, that’s what he got to see when he looked out this window. Acres and acres of wildflowers.”

Derek swallowed, gripping her knee. “That’s nice.”

“Before he moved into a nursing home, he asked if I wanted the land. I couldn’t afford it, of course, so we came up with a lease-to-own plan. After he passed away, well, I mean, I’ve pretty much been waiting for his family to come and try to take it away from me.”

“You have a contract?”

“Of course.”

“So what’s the problem?”

She exhaled. “It’s not official.”

“Meaning?”

“Derek?” Ben called. “Come on. Dude, we’re gonna learn about jabs.”

Derek help up a finger, and Ben jogged back to the group. Immediately, he trained that sharp gaze back on her, surprising her when he reached a finger to push a lock of hair away from her mouth. “So?”

“We signed a napkin.”

“A napkin?”

“He was old-fashioned, a handshake kind of man. I was twenty-one, and I knew I had to have more than his word. He just laughed at me, grabbed a napkin out of the basket, and wrote down our agreement. Then we each signed it.”

“Could still be legal.”

“I looked it up. Real estate deals need to be notarized.”

“Do you have an attorney?”

“I thought I’d wait and see their response to the contract.”

“Is this going to keep you up at night?”

She nodded.

“Then let’s get you lawyered up.”

“No, no, that’s the last thing you need to think about. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because . . . it’s my problem. And besides it might not even be a problem. My friend’s going to fax the contract to the family’s attorney. Maybe they’ll let it go. It’s not like they’ve ever shown any interest in the property in all the years I’ve known Jed.”

“Where is it?”

“The land? Long Island.”

He seemed impatient. “Where on Long Island?”

“It’s called Eden’s Landing, near Greenport. It’s on the North Fork.”

He nodded. “They’ll be interested.”

“It’s nothing like the Hamptons or Montauk, obviously.”

“Lot of vineyards out there. And it’s still land they could sell. You need an attorney.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. It
will
eat away at me.”

He pulled out his phone and started texting right away. When he finished, he shoved it back in the hidden pocket of his gym shorts. “Done.”

“You texted an attorney?”

“I texted my mom. We’re from Westchester. She knows plenty of people. She’ll get it done.”

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. That was really sweet of you.” She started back toward the ring. “I’m sure it’s not that big a deal.”

He caught her arm, stepped even closer into her space. “Hey. I’ve only ever seen your calm, cool, and collected face. Today’s the first time you let it slip, so I
know
it’s a big deal.”

What could she say to that? She relaxed. Gave him her full attention. “It is. It’s everything to me.”

“Nobody’s going to take your land, okay?” He ran a finger down her cheek, and she shivered. “Not on my watch.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

She wished it could be that simple.

•   •   •

Slater
sat beside him on the couch, two reporters facing them. His T-shirt still damp from the show, Derek wanted a shower and a good, hard fuck.

No boxing ring or bowling alley would do.

Neither would enduring yet another interview.
But we don’t always get what we want, do we?

“. . . working with Irwin. It’s been a great tour, great experience.”

He zoned out of Slater’s conversation, grateful his friend did most of the talking, because his attention was focused on Violet. She had a way of discreetly keeping tabs on Pete that fascinated him.

Ha. Kidding. Truthfully, he kept watching the way the dress tightened over her breasts every time she turned sideways to slide between groups of people. The way her mouth formed a nice round O as she drank from a water bottle. And then the way she’d lick her pretty lips after.

Yeah, he wanted to fuck hard. He should call Gen. Get her out here.

Except he didn’t want Gen. He wasn’t hard for Gen.

He wanted the faintly floral-scented woman who slept in his bed each night.

Correction. He slept in
her
bed because he was a total pussy. Now that they were staying in hotels, he’d let Emmie and Slater have their own room. Ben, Cooper, and Pete shared another, and he’d given Violet the third, leaving him with the pull-out couch. Perfect setup, right? So what did he do? After everyone went to bed, when the suite went dead quiet, he slipped under her sheets. Held her sweet body against his all night long.

Like an asshole. Because all it did was torture him.

Slater nudged him, bringing him back to the interview.

“Sorry, what?”

“That’s okay.” The woman smiled. “I asked what this
means to you guys, sharing a stage with U2 and Kings of Leon?”

The next night they’d play in DC. Opening for two of the biggest bands in the world. How the hell had that happened? “It’s cool. We’re looking forward to it.”

“What about your dad?” her colleague asked. “You gonna get him up onstage with you?”

“Now, why would he do that?” Violet said. He didn’t even know she’d joined them. She squeezed herself between him and the edge of the couch. “Eddie’s a jazz musician, for goodness’ sake. I don’t think he’d know what to do with Blue Fire’s brand of rock.”

“Oh, come on, father and son, rocking the stadium?” the douche said. “I know your dad’s down for it.”

“Really?” Violet’s hand smoothed up and down his thigh with the kind of pressure that made him think of sex. If she kept it up, he wouldn’t be able to fight the hard-on he’d been struggling with the last forty minutes.

“Yep. Talked to him myself.”

She turned to Derek. “What’s Eddie working on anyway? He seems to be getting a lot of press lately. Is he in the studio or touring or something?” When she looked at him like that, the whole world faded away. She had a way of focusing on him so completely, it was like no one else existed.

Until he remembered he had two reporters waiting for an answer. “Not that I know of.”