Return of the Bad Boy Page 2

  She never looked away. She watched him. Up until the very moment her orgasm hit her with the intensity of a battering ram, rocketing through her as he came into the condom, his hips frantically pumping as he said her name. Not “Sarge” but…

  “Gloria.”

  Over and over, he said her name until his voice was hoarse and scratchy. Until he dropped his forehead onto hers. He pulled out and fell to his side, his breaths shallow and labored.

  “God. That was incredible.” He wrapped a tattooed arm around her waist and tugged her close. She went, even as tears pricked the backs of her eyes—blue eyes he’d said he wanted to write a ballad about. Eyes she’d given him as requested while he’d literally rocked her world.

  Eye contact during sex was a line they’d never crossed before, and now that they had, it was like a little piece of her had torn wide open. Her heart, if she had to guess. And Asher had taken advantage, reaching inside and extracting part of her.

  Shit.

  Chapter 1

  Present day

  The envelope in Gloria’s hand was damp. Her palms were sweating, which was not attractive, but what was she supposed to do? July heat combined with walking toward Asher Knight’s new Evergreen Cove vacation home had given her nothing but jittery nerves.

  And not for any reason one might think. Yes, seeing him was hard and talking to him difficult after they’d “done the deed” last Christmas. Not helping matters, she’d since learned the reason why he’d settled on a second home here in the Cove.

  He wanted to be closer to his son.

  He’d purchased his house back in May, and then had deliveries made: equipment for the recording studio he was setting up. Furniture trucks from Cozy Home. His vacation home was beginning to look a little permanent, and Gloria wasn’t sure how she felt about that. On the one hand, she got it…Asher wanted to be close to his son, and his son lived in the Cove. Which she couldn’t think about without admiring the hell out of him.

  He also wanted to be closer to his buddies, and one by one, Evan, Donovan, and Connor had settled here for the long haul. Hell, even Gloria had relocated from Chicago at the beginning of the year. The Cove had a way of doing that. Vacuuming you in and not letting go. It had the wealthy air of a vacation hot spot, and the laid-back small-town vibe without feeling like Mayberry. In a word, it was perfect.

  Was being the key word. Before her client-slash-ex-slash-best-lay-of-her-lifetime moved in down the road, into the very house she’d dreamed of owning herself.

  Before she’d moved here, she had her eye on this place. Her eye, her good credit, and every penny she could scrape together for an offer barely over listing price. She’d dreamed of moving into the luxury lakeside house, setting up her office in the back, facing said lake and the sea of pines, and living and working in the comfort of this gorgeous retreat.

  Then the owner accepted a higher offer. A higher offer from Asher Knight.

  Of course, Asher hadn’t known that Glo had been waiting for an acceptance on the very same house, and of course he called, ecstatic about finding the “perfect” lake house. She casually asked him how much he offered and determined that coming up with enough to trump his offer would require her selling an organ. Or two. She didn’t tell him he’d outbid her. Why? Easy. He’d have rescinded his offer. She did not need Asher Knight’s pity house.

  Since he’d moved in three weeks ago, she’d been avoiding coming over. Him she could deal with, even if she was uncomfortable. But here? Where she’d crafted a number of future dream scenarios in her head? That was going to be harder to get over…

  “Come on, Shields,” she grumbled to herself. It wasn’t like her to become this attached…to anything. This pile of lumber was not hers, and that was something she’d have to get used to.

  Asher’s home away from LA sat on the edge of the lake, not a new build, but an older cabin that had been recently remodeled. The entire back wall was windows, so no matter what room you were in—dining room, living room, and kitchen—you could see out to the patio, to the dock, and the lake beyond.

  At the front door, she took a steeling breath and knocked three times. She straightened her shoulders and tossed her hair, down in spite of the heat. Hey, a good hair day was a good hair day. When her long, black locks deigned to lie straight and smooth, she wasn’t about to waste a ponytail holder.

  She’d sent Ash a quick text that she was coming over to drop off a royalty check the publisher had accidentally sent to her agency instead of him. She could have mailed it, but then that was silly. No sense in delaying the inevitable. If they were kind of, sort of going to be neighbors, she was going to have to get used to—

  The door swung open and Asher stood on the other side of it, all tall, dark, and sexy wearing a dark gray tank. His tattoos were on display, his torn-at-the-knee jeans slung low and fitting in all the right places. As usual, his wrists were adorned with hemp and leather bracelets, but he only wore a few rings today. Both on his left hand—the hand holding the phone.

  He tipped his head, motioning for her to come in, glancing away before she had time to really get pegged by those bourbon-colored eyes. Phew.

  “Yeah. I can handle it,” he said into the phone. He strode away from her, barefoot, pant legs frayed, and Gloria’s heart clutched. She hated her heart sometimes. Sure, she appreciated the whole “stay beating so I can live” thing, but where Asher Knight was concerned, her heart veered from its routine and decided to take up tap dancing instead. It was his gelled, sort of shaggy hair and the lazy way his eyes never opened all the way. It was the cross inked on his left arm and his who-gives-a-fuck style.

  It was him. All of him.

  She’d just have to learn to deal with her hectic-patterned heart because she was here to drop off a check and that was it. There wasn’t any other reason for her to hang out in his house. Especially while he looked so—

  He leaned on his kitchen island and she enjoyed the way his jeans showed off his ass. The way he crossed one bare foot over the other. The way he propped his chin on his palm and carried on his conversation…What had she been saying?

  Oh, right. Yummy. She’d just have to learn to deal with him looking yummy. It was a fact of life. Like the weather. It was eighty-eight degrees and only nine a.m. and there wasn’t a thing she could do but endure it. She’d have to do the same with him.

  “Because. I’m Hawk’s father and completely capable of handling him longer than a few hours.”

  Hawk. Father. At the mention of the name, and Asher’s newfound role as parent, her stomach twisted. The envelope crunched in her hand. Asher turned in her direction, straightened, and pointed to the blender. In it sat some sort of green sludge she guessed was a nutritious drink. She wrinkled her nose. He mouthed the words “it’s good for you” but she only shook her head vehemently. Good for her or not, she needed coffee.

  “Listen, Jordan, I have to go. Check with your mom on that weekend and get back with me. I want him here. I want to get to know him.”

  Jordan. That name didn’t make Gloria’s stomach twist; it made her stomach toss. Like a tiny boat in a big, angry ocean.

  “Yep,” Asher was still speaking to Jordan as he moved across the kitchen to a single-serving coffeepot. He put the pod into the machine, pulled a mug from the cabinet, and pressed a button. “Okay. Later.”

  He ended the call and leaned a hip on the counter as the coffee sputtered into the mug.

  “You really should drink my Green Goodness shake instead of a cup of acid.” He gestured to the beautiful black brew rapidly filling the mug.

  “I live on cups of acid.” Gloria smiled brightly.

  “Sarge. I want you healthy. Good agents are hard to find.” A sideways smile tugged at his lips and it took everything in her not to remember kissing his mouth.

  She accepted the mug from his outstretched hand, trading him for the envelope. “Your monies.”

  He tore it open and was silent for a handful of seconds as he studied the chec
k. “Holy fuck.”

  “I know. It’s bigger than we thought. Hitting lists makes big money, honey.” She’d tacked on the “honey” with most of her clients, but with Asher, it sounded a tad…inappropriate? Probably because she didn’t sleep with any of her other clients. It was a rule she’d enforced years ago, but then Asher came along and broke it. The way he broke everything else.

  Like my heart.

  She sipped her coffee, then blurted, “So, how are things with the coparenting?”

  His eyebrows shot up like he was surprised she’d asked. She’d surprised herself, too. She’d made it her job not to bring up Jordan or Hawk. But she was trying to get back to normal—whatever the hell that was—and if he were any other client, she would ask how his personal life was going. It just so happened that this bit of his personal life intertwined with hers.

  Which was unfortunate in every way.

  Jordan was the groupie he’d slept with in his rented cabin in the Cove during Gloria’s visit a few years ago. The same year Evan and his son, Lyon, moved here permanently. See, Gloria had made the epically bad decision—fueled by whiskey and undeniable attraction—to get physical with Asher. She’d shared his bed more than once…and then, one fateful night, the unthinkable happened. She couldn’t sleep, so she went over to see him in the wee hours, and Jordan answered the door of his cabin wearing next to nothing.

  Gloria had run straight to Evan’s now-wife, then-friend, Charlie, and had a lovely and completely humiliating breakdown. Asher tried to convince her he hadn’t taken advantage of Jordan’s offer, but really, what was Glo supposed to believe? That a rock star with a penchant for easy women had turned down a cute groupie in a nightie?

  No matter how many times he’d actually taken Jordan to bed, there was one undeniable, indisputable fact: It only took one time for them to conceive Hawk.

  “She lets me see him for an hour or two,” he said, “and half the time won’t leave him with me. I was trying to put off bringing in a lawyer, hoping we could work it out for Hawk’s sake, you know?”

  This was the part she couldn’t be selfish about. He wanted to do right by his child, and that meant something to her—like way down deep. Glo knew too well how easy it was for some parents to discard a child, and here was Ash, fighting for time with his son. Every part of her admired that about him, and at a time she was trying not to admire him physically, knowledge that he was so much more wasn’t easy to swallow.

  “I’m an adult,” he continued. “Hawk is my kid. I don’t need supervision. I need time. Living in LA, I haven’t spent a lot of time here. When I am here, she should let me see him.” His brows arched in anger.

  She nodded her understanding. For years, the biggest issue they’d had was arguing about whether or not he’d cheated on her. He’d been as adamant about his innocence as she had been about his guilt. Though, now her adamancy resembled petulance, because his story had never changed. Which meant he was telling the truth about sleeping with Jordan only once. Which also meant Gloria had blamed him unfairly for years.

  She’d found out a few months ago, right around the same time Asher found out, that he’d fathered a child with that girl—Hawk was conceived prior to the nightie nightmare—and their biggest issue was suddenly dwarfed. Asher had a son. No matter how proud of him she was that he’d stepped up, that still hurt.

  Gloria didn’t do hurt. She was strong and tough and completely sure of herself.

  Most of the time.

  “You’ll work it out,” she said, but the sentiment sounded forced. She focused on her coffee mug, aware of him coming closer. So close she could smell his freshly showered, soapy scent. So close, she could almost recall what it was like when there had been no barriers between them. When, even before they’d slept together, he’d loop an arm around her neck and tug her close, and she’d lay her head on his shoulder. The way, after they’d slept together, his fingers would coast over her leg while they were sitting side by side and she’d smile at him and see all that dark, delicious intent blooming in his brown eyes.

  Her thighs tingled. Don’t go there, Shields.

  “Wait’ll you meet him,” he said.

  She snapped her eyes up to meet his. Asher having just settled in meant she hadn’t had a chance to be around him. Not being around him meant she’d yet to meet Hawk.

  “Hawk’s great.” Asher’s face split into a grin. “I’ve hung out with him enough to know little dude rocks. Like his dad. You just wait.”

  There was evident pride in his voice and on his face, but her reaction was the opposite. Her shoulders curled in, her hands tightened around her mug. Meet Asher’s son? Ho boy. Last thing in the world she was qualified to do. It wasn’t that Gloria didn’t like children; it was more that there wasn’t a lot of proof she was good for them. Her history was comprised of two of the worst parental examples in the world and a handful of foster parents who hadn’t won any awards either.

  She may be willing to mentally pick up and move on while battling leftover-from-years-ago attraction to Asher, and she may admire down to her very bone marrow that he cared so much about his son…but Gloria getting to know a child that was half him and half Jordan? She wasn’t sure that was a hurdle she was willing—or capable—to leap right now. Maybe after some time passed.

  Like when Hawk was in college.

  “Depends when he’s here, I guess,” she hedged. She put her mug on the counter and backed away from Asher, raising a shaky hand to push her hair behind her ear. “I’ve been busy getting book deals.”

  The excuse was a throwaway and they both knew it. Ash tipped his chin in acknowledgment, his smile more patient than anything.

  She couldn’t avoid Hawk forever. Hell, she’d probably have a run-in with Jordan herself at some point. Gloria had been really, really lucky she hadn’t yet. But procrastination was her friend. She could put off that reunion forever.

  Asher had proven as good at avoidance as Gloria. She’d been in his bed not seven months ago, and they’d managed to talk on the phone several times, neither of them breathing a word about it.

  “I have to run—conference call in a few and I left my notes at home.” All lies. She waved. “See you later.”

  His nostrils flared, but he didn’t challenge her. Instead, he followed her backward steps to the front door and saw her out.

  “Later, Sarge,” he said, holding the door open for her.

  Without looking back, Gloria paced to her car in her new cork-heeled wedge sandals as fast as her feet would carry her.

  * * *

  And she’s off.

  Asher watched Gloria’s gorgeous hips sway all the way to the car.

  Not like he could help it. The woman absolutely rocked him. She rocked him whenever she looked in his direction, whenever he heard her voice, and she’d rocked the hell out of him at the mansion in his borrowed bedroom last year.

  Whenever he’d seen her since, it’d been almost the only thing he could think about. And, not gonna lie, when he’d signed the contract for the house he stood in right now, he’d thought about getting her naked and on her back again. Or on top of him.

  Hell, both.

  Neither of them mentioned last year, and at this point, he’d come to terms that the night at the mansion had been some sort of weird “time-out” before they’d both retreated to neutral corners. The narrow window when they could have moved closer to each other closed mere minutes after they’d orgasmed.

  He wasn’t expecting the bell to ding for another round any time soon.

  Things between them had gone from hot and heavy to hotter and heavier until Jordan happened—which should have been a “one and done” situation. Ash met Jordan at a bar. She was a groupie and a fan. It wasn’t the first time he’d taken a girl home to get laid, and it hadn’t been the last. But Jordan came back to haunt him last year with news he didn’t expect. Right about then, his world exploded before his eyes.

  That explosion reminded him of when he’d played at this v
enue in San Francisco and the pyrotechnics for the encore performance of “Unchained” went terribly, horribly wrong. Just like that fateful night, he’d barely had a chance to process what was going on before everything around him was burning. In his and Gloria’s case, the burn was a wildfire, steadily destroying everything in its path.

  He’d told Sarge about Hawk in January, having sworn his buddies to secrecy but knowing there was a fast-approaching expiration date. With his friends dating, then marrying Gloria’s friends, someone was gonna spill and soon Glo would know and own Asher’s balls. So he’d called from LA and broken the news over the phone. Not an ideal sitch, but he hadn’t been able to tell her when he was here last year. He’d wanted to end on a good note, not further destroy things between them.

  But then things had already been over by New Year’s Eve. While Connor and Legs (Faith) were skipping through their snowy happily-ever-after in the courtyard behind the mansion, Glo and Ash did shots of liquor, avoiding watching their friends kiss during the ball drop and pretending not to notice they’d received pity kisses. Asher got each cheek kissed by Charlie and Sofie, and Glo had accepted a half-hug from Donny and a kiss on the forehead from Evan.

  To think a few weeks prior, he and Gloria had been in that very house, sweating out the last bout of great sex he’d had. Before the intense moment at the mansion last year, he’d truly believed he had a chance to salvage things with her. Now, well, he had more shit to worry about than fighting or making up with Gloria. He had a son who came with an uncooperative mother, an album to write, and a dog to care for, and he was now the proud owner of two houses in drastically different parts of the country.

  And if what he thought just happened had happened—Glo being hesitant about meeting Hawk—then there was no hope of getting on level ground with his agent again. Asher was committed to being a part of his son’s life—a big part. To being a good father like his own father was to this day.

  Gloria was right when she told Asher he’d make it work. Despite his and Jordan’s rocky past, Asher was going to make things work for his son and him. He and Jordan were a non-issue and had been since that one drunken night three years ago. Hawk was the gift Asher never could have seen coming. As long as he was breathing, he and his kid were coming outta this whole—regardless of drama with Hawk’s mother.