THE PLANE RIDE FROM Miami to New Orleans was short and sweet. Marta and I sat together in the front, while the man we both worked for loomed in the back all by himself. As he should. Asshole. Since our dance in Miami, our interactions had cooled dramatically. He’d made a concerted effort to be dismissive of me, and I’d been nothing but professional.
Did he still scare me?
He did. But that wasn’t some special Dominic Cantrell attribute. Most men scared me these days. Even Adam, who appeared to be the sweetest man alive, gave me the chills from time to time.
That was what happened when the one man I trusted and loved the most hurt me on every possible level. It made it hard to discern who was real and who was really good at pretending.
I’d skipped Dominic’s shows in Atlanta and Miami, though I hadn’t missed The Seasons Change’s. They were as incredible as Marta had said, and I’d finally picked up on the fact that she was mad for Iris. If Iris wasn’t mad for Marta, she was a fool.
Marta was a pure delight. Annaliese would adore her, and if this Iris thing didn’t work out, maybe I’d introduce them when we went home.
We shared another car with Dominic to the hotel, but he stayed quiet while Marta and I chattered.
“We should go to the pool,” she said.
“Ugh. I haven’t been in a bathing suit in ages.” Our stop in Miami had been so brief and filled with work, I’d managed to avoid it.
She looked me up and down. “And?”
“And if I’m in the sun for any amount of time, I get freckles on top of my freckles.”
“And?”
That she was still confused wasn’t a surprise. I doubted Marta had been body-conscious once in her life.
“I have to finish writing up a press release and then—”
She sighed dramatically. “All I’m hearing are excuses. You’re going to the pool, woman.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Mar.” Dominic threw up his hands. “She’s telling you she doesn’t want to go to the fucking pool. Leave it.”
He hadn’t yelled, but heat had crept up his face and the crease between his brows had deepened. Marta laughed, and my eyes bounced back and forth between them. After a moment, I noticed the ache in my fingers, and worked to uncurl them from their death grip on my seat.
Yeah, he scared me.
Marta’s hand landed lightly on my shoulder, but I jumped anyway. Embarrassed by my reaction, I studied the passing scenery out my window to avoid her probing gaze.
“Don’t worry about it. If you don’t want to go to the pool, it’s fine. We can hang out and see the city, or I can just leave you alone.”
In my periphery, Dominic moved to the edge of his seat, studying me. “I’m sorry for raising my voice, Claire.” The words came out as almost a whisper, drawing my attention more than Marta’s coaxing. I had a feeling Dominic didn’t apologize often, so the fact that he had rather instantly worked to put me at ease.
“Thank you.” Smoothing my hands over my jeans, I sucked in a slightly shaky breath, then turned to Marta. “I do want to go to the pool. I’ll just have to coat myself in SPF.”
“That’s my girl.” She beamed. “I love that you’re here. Normally, I have to hang out with Dom or on my own, and neither is very fun.”
That made me laugh. “We have to FaceTime with my sister from the pool. She won’t believe you’ve convinced me to put on a bathing suit.”
Marta waggled her brows. “And she’ll be insanely jealous you’re in New Orleans?”
My eyes shifted back and forth, and I shrugged innocently. “Maybe…”
She slapped her hands together. “I knew it. Spoken like a true baby sister. When I first started going on the road with Dom, I’d send my brother daily pics and make him so damn jealous. He’s a rocker trapped in an accountant’s body with three little kids and a minivan. Poor guy.”
I winced. “No, not a minivan!”
She picked up her water bottle and tipped it to the side. “Pour one out for Billy’s youth.”
“Exactly. I’m finally ready to start enjoying my youth. I can’t imagine what the minivan life is like. Or entering it willingly.” I shuddered, knowing if I’d stayed married to Derrick, the minivan life would have been right around the corner. And though I did want kids one day, it seemed to be somewhere in the far-off distance.
Breathing easier, I let my gaze roam to Dominic’s side of the car. He was still studying me. When our eyes met, he nodded once and slouched in his seat, relaxing as he stared. As I turned back to Marta, one corner of his mouth hitched, and a huff of breath left his nose, which he quickly covered by looking away first.
In my room, I tossed my two bathing suits on my bed, debating which to wear. My skin hadn’t been kissed by the sun in months, so going conservative and wearing the cherry red, vintage-style one-piece with a skirt that covered the tops of my thighs should have been my first choice. But the rebel inside me wanted to be daring and put on the two-piece I’d never had the guts to be seen wearing in public before.
For kicks, I slipped on the ruched bottoms, the waist stopping just below my belly button. Since that didn’t look horrendous, I tried on the matching halter bikini top with a fun ruffle right below my breasts. I didn’t look terrible.
When I spun in front of the full-length mirror, I actually thought I looked cute. My stomach was soft, curved, and covered in freckles, but it wasn’t offensive to look at. At least I didn’t think so. And my butt…well, it didn’t matter if I wore a one piece or string bikini—it was there.
Before I could stop myself, I threw on a sheer cover-up and my flip flops, tossed a few things in a tote bag, and headed to the pool.
When I arrived, Marta and our friends from The Seasons Change were already there, sitting around a table, shaded by a large, striped umbrella.
“You’re here!” Marta announced. “Claire is here!”
Laughing, I held my index finger to my lips. “And now everyone knows it. Quiet, you.”
“Claire, you look so cute,” Iris said.
“Thank you. And you look amazing.”
Iris was even hotter with fewer clothes on, which made sense. Her breasts were high and full, her stomach flat and partially covered by black and gray tattoos, and her legs were miles long. Marta’s eyes went wide and a little manic when I looked at her. Apparently, she thought the same thing.
Adam stood, scraping back his chair. “Want to sit?”
“Well, are we actually swimming, or is this a look-adorable-in-our-swimsuits kind of afternoon?” I asked.
“Why not both?” Marta hopped up and tore off her loose T-shirt and cut-off shorts, leaving her in a black bikini. “Let’s take a dip.”
She hooked her arm with mine, tugging me toward the pool. I kicked off my flip flops as I went and waved to Adam over my shoulder. By the steps, I pulled my cover-up over my head, leaving it in a puddle on the edge, then walked into the cool water.
Marta splashed next to me, submerging without testing the temperature first. She surfaced when I was only up to my thighs. “Get in here, girl. The water’s fine.”
I took the last two steps quickly, submerging to my stomach. “God, it does feel good.”
“I wouldn’t steer you wrong. By the way, I can’t believe you were trying to hide all this.” She drew an hourglass shape with her hands. “Trust, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed at all. I don’t deny being insecure, though.”
“Well, who isn’t?” She windmilled her arms in the water, splashing us both. “But I refuse to let my brain hold me back from what I want to do. So, I just chuck off my clothes and hope for the best.”
I snorted and fell a little more in love with her. “That’s a pretty damn good attitude. I’ll remember that if I ever undress in front of anyone again.”
She paused her chaotic movements and looked me dead in the eye. “What’s that about? I heard a rumor that boy sitting at our table was seen coming out of your room a few mornings back. Are you saying he didn’t get to see you naked?”
“I am definitely saying that.” I swiped my hair off my forehead. “Who knew Dominic Cantrell was such a terrible gossip?”
“He’s awful. Like a little hen, always asking me questions about my love life.” Her eye roll was filled with affection.
“Well, here’s the truth, which I also told him: Adam brought me breakfast unexpectedly that morning. That’s it.”
She pressed both hands to her chest and sighed. “Aw, he’s got it bad for you, huh?”
I let my eyes drift to the man in question. He wore dark sunglasses, but from the direction he faced, I was fairly certain he was watching us. Or me, rather.
“Maybe? I haven’t paid attention to a man in that way for so long, it’s hard for me to recognize the signs.”
Because I’d been with Derrick for so many years and had let myself feel a lot older than twenty-six, it was hard for me to reconcile a guy like Adam—tattooed, pierced, young, and cool as hell—might be into me. The signs pointed to yes. I’d be stupid not to recognize them, and I refused to ignore signs ever again. But even if he was into me, I didn’t know what to do with that.
Annaliese would tell me to hit it. Marta probably would too. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready for even a casual fling yet.
“I see the signs. I wish Iris would broadcast as loudly as Adam is,” Marta said woefully.
Both our heads swiveled in the direction of the woman in question. Her legs were crossed, and she had a beer dangling between two fingers as she laughed at something Rodrigo said. Marta and I sighed at the same time.
“I have to say, I have a little crush on that woman, and I’m ninety-seven percent straight,” I said.
With a groan, Marta dunked herself under the water. Giggling, I floated on my back. With the sun beating on my face, I knew my freckles would be intense later, but it felt too good to stop.
It felt too good to pretend I wasn’t going through a messy breakup too. Marta hadn’t asked, but there’d been times I could have brought up my marriage and pending divorce. I just…hadn’t. I didn’t even want to think about what awaited me when I went home.
Floating on my back in the Louisiana sun, I made a decision. While on this tour, I’d live. I’d feel. I wouldn’t worry or struggle. I wouldn’t say no because of perceived expectations. This was my moment to break out and break free, and if I let it pass me by, I’d regret it more than I regretted Derrick.
Without warning, pool water rained down on me, and my peaceful floating turned to sputtering as my hair flooded into my face. When I swiped it away, Rodrigo popped up beside me, grinning madly.
“Did you see that cannonball, preciosa?”
I snapped my fingers. “Damn, I missed it.”
He pointed behind him. “You can see the inferior version. Here comes my boy.”
Adam flew through the air, pulling his knees up to his chest, and landed in the pool with an explosion of water. After a beat, he shot through the surface, looking like a proud papa of the cannonball he’d just birthed.
“What do you think, Claire? Which splash was bigger?” he asked.
I pushed out my bottom lip in a playful pout. “I missed Rodrigo’s, so I don’t think it’ll be fair for me to judge. You might have to do it again.”
Rodrigo headed for the steps before I’d even finished speaking. Adam tugged on the end of my wet hair. “Only because I don’t like that sad face on you.”
Their cannonball contest went on for three more rounds until the other guests in the pool started giving us the evil eye. Rodrigo went to dry off, and Marta went to flirt, leaving Adam and me in the pool together.
“How’s life?” he asked softly.
“I was thinking earlier, before Rodrigo interrupted my peace, life is pretty okay right now.” I bumped into the edge of the pool and Adam stopped right in front of me. He looked at me like I was the snack he wanted to eat after an afternoon of swimming—and everyone knew post-swim meals were the best.
I thought he was cute. Handsome. Sexy. I willed some of my parts—aside from my brain—to get that message. He didn’t make my stomach swoop or heart go pitter-patter. The area between my legs remained eerily silent too.
He rested his hand on the wall beside my head. “Only okay? How can it be improved?”
“Okay is an improvement over shitshow, which is about where I was before I landed this gig. How about you? How’s life?”
“Really good. I get to play my music and meet some pretty cool people. I’m not complaining.”
I poked my chest and acted surprised. “Me? Am I one of the cool people?”
He chuckled at my doe eyes. “Gotta say, you’re the cool person right now.”
I looked left and right. “Why is it the first time I’m called cool, no one is around to hear it? Did it even happen?”
Adam splashed me gently, his eyes sparking with amusement. “Since you’re new to this whole ‘cool’ thing, I gotta tell you, people who are old-school cool, don’t really talk about being cool. It’s just a thing everyone around them acknowledges.”
I huffed. “People who grew up cool always think they’re better than us new-cools. You make fun of us for flashing our cool around, but you don’t know what it’s like to grow up without any cool.”
Adam cackled so loud, heads turned, making me proud. “I don’t think ‘cool’ has any meaning anymore. Fuck, Claire, you kill me.”
Marta sat down on the side of the pool and dipped her feet in. Her interruption was a blessing in disguise. Adam expected me to make him laugh, and while I liked doing it, sometimes I worried I’d dash his high opinion by revealing how truly uncool I was.
“So, boss man called,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“He needs you for a minute. Normally, I’d tell him to go fuck himself, but since today is technically a workday and he’s letting us take it easy in the pool, I thought I’d better relay the message.” She kicked at the water, sending waves swirling around me. “You can come back down when you’re finished with whatever he wants you to do.”
I sighed. “It’s fine. I’ve probably reached my sun limit anyway.”
Adam caught my hand underwater. “We should do dinner.”
“I’ll text you, okay?”
“I’m holding you to it.”
He let me pass, and I felt his eyes on me while I climbed out and bent down to retrieve my cover-up. At this point, my confidence was made up almost entirely of bravado, but it didn’t feel terrible a guy like Adam was checking me out. Not at all.
Upstairs, I shuffled in my flip flops toward my room. I didn’t make it there, though. Dominic’s door swung open, and he stepped out in front of me.
Startled by his sudden appearance, I tripped over my own two feet, falling into his chest. His hands gripped my upper arms, steadying me, and then he pushed me upright.
“Hey. Sorry for jumping out at you like that,” he said softly. He dipped his head, catching my eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Mortified, and I think I broke my flip flop, but I’m fine.”
“Good.” He opened his door wider with his foot. “Come in.”
I stayed where I was. “I’m in my bathing suit with a broken flip flop and wet hair. Can you give me a minute to change?”
He cocked his head and did that slow perusal thing he did so very well. “I’ll give you ten minutes.”
I suppressed my eye roll. I wasn’t Marta. I couldn’t get away with it. “Thank you for your generosity.”
Blocking me from taking a step, he knelt in front of me. His long, tattooed fingers curled around my ankle, lifting my foot like it was weightless, then he hooked his index finger between my toes and slid off my flip flop. His thumb pressed into the arch of my foot before he placed it on the ground again. I was too stupefied by the suddenness of his touch and the roughness of his skin on mine to stop him from doing the same to the other foot. This time when he massaged my arch, I barely suppressed a moan. I caught my bottom lip between my teeth and bit down hard so I didn’t react.
Dominic rose with both of my shoes in his clutches.
“Can’t have you falling when I’m not there to catch you.” He gave me one last look, slapped my flip flops against his palm, and disappeared inside his room.
My brain, heart, and between my thighs all agreed that had been the single most unexpected and sexiest moment of my life. The fact that Dominic was my boss and sixteen years older than me should have dampened the experience, but the truth was, it only made it hotter.
