Love Notes (Rocked by Love #1) (8 page)

"I promise." She
patted his shoulder, then glanced at her phone. She typed something and then
smiled. "I have to go. Maybe you should call Jayne."

As soon as the band left,
he loaded Shredder into the car. Forget a phone call—they were making a house
call.

One of her neighbors held
open the security door for him. When he reached her apartment door, he crouched
beside Shredder. "No loud barks, okay? She might need quiet."

A grumble responded.
Satisfied, he knocked.

Jayne opened the door.
She wore a bright pink t-shirt and soft gray yoga pants. Her hair flowed around
her shoulders. Her smile brightened his mood. "Hi."

"We thought you
might need some company." He waited while she slowly bent to greet the
dog. Then, he handed her the bouquet of yellow and pink flowers he'd bought on
the way.

"They're beautiful.
Thank you." She sniffed the blooms. "I'll grab a vase from the
kitchen."

He followed her through
the living room. A white couch in the center was balanced by a piano on one
side of the room and a desk on the other. Shredder padded beside him.

Jayne came back and
placed the flowers on her desk. She moved a little slower than normal.
"You can let him off his leash."

He did, and Shredder
ambled to a patch of sunlight under a picture window. Zander crossed to her.
His hands framed her face and he brushed the white bandage on her temple. Then
he lowered his head and gently touched his lips to hers. "How are you
feeling?"

"I'm a little sore
and my heads hurts a bit, but no other issues. I'm fine, really."

"I'm not."

Immediately, her hands
lifted to his chest. "Where are you hurt?"

He shook his head.
"You scared me. I keep replaying your head hitting the bar. I'm sorry I
couldn't get to you in time."

"Like I told you
last night, it's not your fault. Besides, you were busy helping Luke. How are
the guys?"

"Banged up, but
nothing serious."

"And you. Are you
really okay?" Her hand skimmed the scratch on his cheek.

"You could kiss it
better."

She smiled and rose on
her toes. Her lips touched his cheek. Then she kissed the cut on his hand.
"Anywhere else?"

"I can think of a
few other places that are aching."

Instead of the flirty
retort he'd been expecting, her smile faded and she moved her hands to her
sides. "We need to talk."

"What's wrong?"

"I was scared
watching you squaring off against those bikers." She paced to the couch
and turned. "Maybe this is moving a little to fast."

"What is?"

"Us."

"Too fast? I've been
on a slow burn for weeks." He followed her over. "Is this about the
fighting? The band really doesn't get into scrapes. I'm not a guy who goes out
looking for fights."

"It's not that. I'm
glad you stood up for your friend." Her fingers twisted her necklace
pendant back and forth in her hand. "It made me see that I, well, I care
about you."

"Oh." Something
between satisfaction, anticipation, and relief swelled within him.

"And that wasn't
part of the deal, so—"

"Hold up
there." He captured her hand in his. "We never said 'no caring about
the other person.' All we said was that we'd be involved during the tour. I
cared about you before I suggested our arrangement."

"You did?" Wide
blue eyes met his gaze. "You do?"

"I wouldn't get
involved with someone I didn't care about."

"Oh." Echoing
his earlier statement, she regarded him with a serious gaze. A faint blush
colored her cheeks and a slight frown marred her forehead. "But we
promised each other at the start that no one would get hurt. Caring means
getting hurt."

That line right there
told him all he needed to know. "Caring also means doing your damn best to
make sure the other person doesn't get hurt."

Eyes wide, head tilted
back to hold his gaze, she looked so vulnerable. "Zander."

She was thinking too much
and he was tired of thinking. He needed to hold her. "Trust me. I won't
hurt you."

After a long moment,
Jayne laid her hand on his chest, over his heart. "All right."

Relief eased his muscles
and he drew her into his arms. "Now, back to those aches…"

"Yeah?" With a
blood-stirring smile, she slid her hand to his stomach, and then to his
waistband. "Am I getting warmer?"

He sucked in a breath and
held back a groan and then closed his hand over hers. Tempted to drag it lower,
he moved it to his chest. "Today's about you. And I can tell you're sore,
so we're taking it easy. What can I do? Rub your shoulders? Make you tea? I'm
not much good at kitchen things."

"The shoulder rub
would be nice. I hit my back in the fall too." She pointed to a low spot
by her hip.

He wrapped his arms
around her and pressed his fingers into the spot. Rubbing in small circles, he
tried not to get distracted by the indent of her waist and how it flowed into
the curve of her hip. He averted his gaze the sofa table behind her where she'd
placed several framed photos of a Yorkshire Terrier. "Is that
Pepper?"

"Yep. I know, I took
a lot of photos, but she was so cute."

He leaned closer to
examine them. In nearly every one, the dog wore a colorful top. "She let
you dress her up?"

"She loved sweaters.
I'm guessing from your tone that you either don't or can't do that with
Shredder."

"I'm lucky he
doesn't try to remove his collar." He moved his hands to her shoulders. No
photos of people who could be her parents, but there were two of Irisa and
Jayne, and a few of Jayne with volunteers from the animal shelter and the
community center.

She laid her head on his
shoulder. "This feels so good. Thank you."

His fingers skimmed up
her back to massage her neck. "Tomorrow kicks off two weeks on the road so
if you're not feeling up to it tomorrow night, you can rest at the hotel
instead of coming to the show. Longer trips can be tough."

"I'll be fine. I
don't want to leave more work for Irisa. She has enough to deal with." The
way she spoke hinted that she knew more about his sister than she'd always let
on.

"Last night in the
ER while you were still getting checked out, she admitted she's been popping
antacids a lot to deal with stress."

"She's been taking
them for months. I've asked her about them before."

He lowered his hands
before his frustration could tighten his hold. "You knew. Torres knew. I
see her all the time and had no idea."

"You can't know
everything. Considering how protective she is of you and the band, she probably
hid it so you didn't worry." Jayne brushed her hand through his hair.
Gentle and soothing, and exactly what he needed.

He slid his arms around
her waist. "I'm supposed to be making you feel better, not the other way
around."

"You are making me
feel better. You brought me flowers and a dog." She traced her fingers
over the faded logo on his chest. "Can you stay for a while?"

"For as long as you
want." He could see himself staying with her for years, but he'd make the
most of the time they had together because when the tour was over, it would
have to end.

Five days into the road trip, Jayne
finally felt like her old self. The cut on her head had mostly healed and the
swelling was gone. Zander had been right about things being tough, but her
problem had been the tension that ebbed and flowed between the guys—and Luke
and his increasing list of "forgotten items".

The radio station hummed
with excitement. She watched the contest winners file in for the band's on-air
five song set. She checked the food table and confirmed all of the band's
requests were laid out in front of her.

"I have a surprise
for you." Zander's voice caressed the back of her neck and she shivered.

He'd been extra-excited
all day. She'd known something was up. "What is it?"

"We're performing my
new song. It'll be the first time anyone outside the band has heard it."

"I can't wait."
Although she knew the melody by heart, he'd kept the lyrics a secret.

In his reaching for a
water bottle, he trailed his fingers over her hand. "You know, you were
the inspiration for it."

"I was?" She
smiled shyly and fought the heat of a blush. Her? Inspiration? For that
beautiful piece? Warmth spread through her chest and she placed her hand on his
arm—not caring if anyone could see them. "Now I really can't wait to hear
it."

"You'll be waiting a
little longer. It's the last song in the set."

 She smiled. "I know
it'll be worth it."

He waved to a few of the
fans. "We're supposed to start soon. I'll see you later."

She was still smiling
after he walked away.

Luke approached in his
usual attire, wearing dark jeans, a dark shirt, and a scowl. "I left my
scarf at the hotel. You'll have to pick it up."

No, no, no.
She
couldn't risk missing Zander's song. "The temperature feels fine in here.
You won't need it."

His gaze hardened.
"A fan made it for me. She's here and I told her I'd wear it."

"Can't you just tell
her you forgot it?"

"No. She went to a
lot of trouble. We never disappoint our fans." He pointed out a pretty
woman, fairly young, wearing an animal rescue center's sweatshirt. "You're
the tour manager. It's your job to do things like this."

Her gaze flicked to
Irisa. Her friend had been barking out orders and finding fault with everything
since they'd arrived on Saturday. Out of character for her patient friend,
obviously something had happened between her and Dom. But she refused to talk
about it and cringed at the mention of his name. If Jayne refused, Luke might
ask Irisa, and she couldn't bear to see him push her friend into snapping.

"Fine. I'll
go." If she hurried, she might make it back in time to hear Zander
perform.

He handed over his
keycard. "It's a black and green crocheted scarf. I think it's on the
desk."

"All right."

She called for a cab, but
the late afternoon rush hour had begun. Walking the eight blocks to the hotel
would take twenty minutes and was faster than waiting for the cab to arrive.
She half-walked, half-jogged to the hotel, and arrived puffing air and
sweating, then jogged to his room. No scarf on the desk. No scarf on the bed or
the floor. She peeked in the closet and the open suitcase. No luck.

Huffing out a sigh, she
sent him a text.
It's not anywhere that I can see.

His reply came a minute
later.
Never mind. Found it here. Going on air now.

Anger bubbled over. She
was going to kill him.

After a quick stop in her
room to change her sweat-soaked shirt for a dry one, she sprinted down the hall
and two flights of stairs to the lobby. A cab pulled up to the curb. Maybe her
luck was turning. She hopped in and rattled off the station's address.

Frustration built as the
minutes ticked by and traffic crawled along. She abandoned the cab with four
blocks to go and jogged the rest of the way.

She dashed inside the
station's lobby, but several people wearing Fury t-shirts were leaving.

No. She couldn't be too
late.

The band and some crew
members rounded the corner, gear in hand. Sure enough, Luke had the scarf slung
around his neck like a gym towel.

"Where did you find
it?"

"In my microphone
kit."

How did he miss checking
there?

Zander met her gaze and
his frown deepened and then lessened. "I'm sorry you missed the
show."

"Not as sorry as I
am." Did he look at someone else when he sang her song? Had he been
thinking of her at all?

The car they'd hired to
transport them arrived. She climbed in beside Irisa and shook her head against
the sting of tears building behind her eyes. Blinking fast, nails biting into
her palms, she managed to keep her emotions in check.

Brendan leaned over the
seat. "Who wants to grab dinner? There's an Italian restaurant a few
blocks from the hotel."

A chorus of agreements
echoed from the band.

Irisa shook her head.
"No thanks. I have some calls to make."

"Not me,
either." Jayne glanced down at her shirt. It clung to skin that felt
sticky and sweaty. She needed a shower and a big glass of red wine. Maybe two.
Room service was in her future.

Zander inclined his head.
"Maybe I'll stay in, too. We can grab food at the hotel's bar."

"No, please, go
ahead with the guys. I think I'll take a nap. I had quite a bit of exercise
today." He'd wrangled the room adjoining hers. If he stayed, she wouldn't
be able to break down. She needed a few minutes to herself.

The car dropped Irisa and
her off first. After bidding good night to her friend, she rushed to her room.
Tears burned prisms into her vision. She swiped her cheeks and transferred some
of the mascara onto her fingers. She left her clothes in a heap on the bathroom
floor and turned on the shower. Steam rose, a white mist in the room. The last
time he'd played the song, she'd recorded it. She left the bathroom door ajar
and set up her phone right outside, with the volume on the highest setting. With
Zander's song on continual repeat, she stepped inside the stall, soothed by the
pounding water and a good cry.

Zander strode down the hall to his
room. Jayne's comment about the nap and the exercise had confused him.
Exercise? She'd looked upset when she'd returned to the radio station, and that
look remained until they dropped her off at the hotel. When the car dropped off
the guys at the restaurant, he'd begged off and requested a return to the
hotel. He should have insisted on staying with her. He needed to see her.

Music came from her room.
He eased his interior door open and raised his hand to knock on hers. Then
paused as the melody registered.

His song.

He gave the door a light
tap.

No response.

A louder tap.

No response.

Had she gone out and left
the music on?

He tried her door. It
wasn't locked. He slipped into the room. His music blared from her phone. The
sound of the shower running drew his attention to the bathroom. Loud sobs
echoed from the partially open door.

Alarmed, he pushed it
open. "Jayne?"

A shriek pierced the air,
loud enough to make him wince. The water turned off. "Zander? Oh my God.
Don't ever sneak up on me again."

"Are you okay?"
He didn't like that wobbly thread in her voice.

"What are you doing
here? You're supposed to be at dinner." Her hand reached past the curtain.
She groped for a towel. He handed it to her and tried not to think about the
inches of exposed skin just a few feet away.

"I didn't want to be
with the guys. I wanted to be with you."

The curtain moved back, revealing
Jayne wrapped in a fluffy white towel.

His mouth went dry. She
looked like something straight out of the fantasies he'd been thinking up since
they'd met. But those red-rimmed eyes hadn't been part of any fantasy. He'd gut
himself rather than make her cry. He reached for her, his hands around her
shoulders. "What happened?"

"I…" She
clutched the top of the towel where it tucked in at her breasts. "It's
silly. I was just letting out my frustration over today. I really wanted to be
there to hear your song, but Luke sent me on this errand to find his scarf—a
wild goose chase for nothing. The cab was taking forever, so I jogged back to
the hotel—"

"Wait. You jogged
eight blocks?"

"Yeah. Then I found
out that he had the scarf the whole time, then I ran back half of the way,
hoping I'd get back in time to hear the song, but I arrived too late. And you
never ask me for anything, but you wanted me there. I let me down and I let you
down."

"Honey." He
pulled her into his chest and wrapping her in his arms. He'd wanted her at the
session more than anything, but his lingering disappointment disappeared when
he saw how upset she was. "It's all right."

"No. It's not. I've
never inspired a song before. I'm sad I didn't get to hear its debut."

"You didn't miss it.
Since you weren't there, I didn't play it. We did another song instead."

"I didn't miss
it?" Her head tilted back to maintain eye contact with him. Her smiled
bloomed.

From the outer room, his
song silenced and then began again. He lifted his finger and brushed it along
her jaw line. "I guess you like my song."

"It was my favorite
before I knew I inspired it."

"Why?"

"There's something
about the melody."

"It gets to
you."

"It makes me
feel."

"I like making you
feel." His other hand tangled in her hair. "I like you."

"I like you,
too." A smile touched her lips. "Could you sing it to me now?"

"I think that's
fair. It's your song. You should be the first one to hear it." He drew her
close, wrapping his arm around her back. He swayed with her until the song began
again. His heart beat hard and a little too fast. Whispering the lyrics close
to her ear, he watched the way her hair moved with his breath and how
goosebumps dotted her skin.

She shivered and leaned
into him. Her arms came around him, holding tight. He sang the words about
hearts yearning to be whole and finding the missing pieces. He moved them in a
slow circle, watching their reflection in the mirror and the rightness of their
bodies twined together.

He ended the song by
pressing a kiss onto her neck. And held his breath as he waited for her
opinion.

She arched into him, then
her lips brushed his cheek. "That was beautiful. I loved it."

Her words eased the
tension in his neck. He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. Then
lowered his lips to hers.

Delicate arms shifted
around his torso and she returned the kiss.

Desperate to touch, his
hands roamed up her sides. He cupped and teased her breasts through the terry
cloth, earning a gasp from her lips, and then a moan when he skimmed a finger
under the fabric.

"Zander." She
wrapped her leg around his, drawing them together.

He paused with his hand
over the towel's closure. "Do you want me to stop?"

She lifted her hand to
his. "You better not."

With slow movements, he
pulled the towel loose and it fell to the floor like a pile of snow.

"You're
perfect." Both hands stroked along her skin, exploring the flares and
dips. Soft skin, delicate bones, and sexy curves.

"You're wearing too
many clothes." Her hands tugged at his shirt. He ripped it over his head.
She grazed her nails along his arms, over his shoulders and down his torso.
When her hands paused on his jeans, he looked into eyes darkened with desire.
With a smile, Jayne drew his zipper down in a slow tease. His hold on her hips
tightened. She nipped his lips and pushed his jeans and boxers to the floor. He
sucked in a breath as she took him in her hand.

Resisting the urge to
thrust, he deepened the kiss and traced patterns over her abdomen and down to
her center. Jayne's head dropped against his chest while his fingers played and
glided inside. She gasped and clutched him tighter. Biting his lip against the
magic and friction she created with her hands, he increased the pressure and
pace of his teasing until she was coming apart in his hands.

With a groan, Zander
lifted his head. "Bed?"

"Now."

He paused to grab a
condom from his wallet, then backed her against the mattress, following her
down onto crisp white sheets.

Zander rolled on
protection and maneuvered between her legs. Jayne lay spread out before him.
Goddamn, he was lucky. His mouth followed the path his hands had previously
taken. Lips skimming over her skin, pausing to lick and suck and nibble, he
worked until she moaned and gripped his hair tight in her hands.