Part 12 (1/2)

”So you did bang her.” Jax slowed and glared at him, veins bulging in his neck.

Mason threw his hands up in front of him. ”None of your business, bro.”

”It is my business, bro. Her koi wraps around her back and over her rib cage. No way you can see it with her clothes on. Motherf.u.c.ker, I should kick your a.s.s.”

”She's a grown woman, Jax. And I'm pretty sure I've got at least twenty pounds on you, so relax.”

”Like I couldn't kick your white-bread, beamer-driving a.s.s.” Jax sneered and then laughed humorlessly. ”I'll back off, for now. But if you hurt her, I will make you suffer.” Then he turned and looked him in the eye as they approached their line of vehicles. ”The last guy who messed with Kevan will never forget his f.u.c.kup. My upbringing affords some moral ambiguity. If you get my drift.”

A wave of dark anger surged through Mason at the thought of another man hurting her, causing her pain. So unexpected. These odd, possessive feelings toward Kevan were frustrating and uncomfortable. He needed to get her out from under his skin.

”Point taken. She's not going to give me the chance, to be honest. I don't know what the f.u.c.k is up or down with that woman. But I have no intention of hurting her. I promise you.”

”Make sure it stays that way.”

As they cooled down and stretched, Mason's thoughts kept drifting back to Kevan.

While she might be inexperienced and a little naive, she was definitely creative and inspired. She was more about action and less about the hype and bulls.h.i.+t that tended to get attention in their industry. She would make an excellent employee. That is, if he got to keep his job. Too bad he wanted to screw her again so badly. Unfortunately, he had a strict no fraternization policy. Since he didn't date seriously, he couldn't have a string of one-night stands working for him, now could he? Too messy.

Mason didn't like messy. He liked neat and tidy. Kevan was as complex as they came. And the more he discovered, the messier she got. Jax's information was proof. It was probably best for him to keep his interest in her strictly horizontal. No, vertical. He'd like to take her up against the wall with her long legs wrapped around his hips. Oh, the dirty things he'd like to do to her. No. Maybe he should think about backing off a little. Yes, she was s.e.xy, and yes, he would love to get her back into bed. But Jax had had a point. And despite how obsessed he was with her body, he'd meant what he'd said to Jax. He didn't want to hurt her.

It was all becoming so much more complicated. And messy.

Outside the RV, he was in the middle of his final stretch when he heard a loud crash from inside the bus, followed by some m.u.f.fled yelling. He skipped the steps and burst into the RV, colliding with a sleepy-eyed Kevan.

”I seem to always be falling on you or cras.h.i.+ng into you.” She lifted her hands from his damp chest.

”You okay? I heard a noise.” His heart raced from his run and the sudden close contact with Kevan.

She laughed. ”I'm fine. I was trying to make breakfast and dropped a plate.” Her eyes suddenly turned gla.s.sy as she took in his sweaty T-s.h.i.+rt and the board shorts.

He peeled off the wet s.h.i.+rt and wiped his brow.

”I'm food,” she mumbled.

Ha! She was frazzled. He couldn't resist taking advantage of her discomfort just a little. ”You're food, Kevan? Like a tasty ripe strawberry?” he teased. She was fl.u.s.tered and distracted. Affected by him. He liked that. Oh yeah, he liked it a lot.

Shaking her head, she stepped back to the stove to stir something. ”I'm making food. For you. For us. Remember, I said I would.” Her words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush.

”Dammit. This is your fault.” She pointed her now-blue fingernail at him.

How many times a day does she paint her nails?

He looked down at her bare, very s.e.xy feet. And toes? The purple polish on her toenails matched the outline of flowers tattooed on one of her feet.

Mason pursed his lips. ”What's my fault?”

”You. That body. It's distracting. And turning me into a dork.” She looked back toward the scrambled eggs on the small stove. ”Go take those clothes off and take a shower. Oh, s.h.i.+t, that's not what I meant.” He caught a glimpse of her flushed crimson neck when she moved to stir the eggs.

”Wouldn't you rather get creative with kitchen utensils?” He winked before she turned around to wash the dirty spatula.

”You're such a perv,” she mumbled as he stepped up behind her, not touching, but desperately wanting to.

He bent over her and whispered, ”What do you mean, darlin'?”

She spun and pinched her nose. ”I mean, you stink. Go get cleaned up so I can feed you.”

When he rubbed his slick chest up and down her arm, she feigned indifference and pushed him toward the bathroom, but her hand shook, and her breath hitched. ”Gross. Just go, you dumb, sweaty man. Get cleaned up.”

”Yes, ma'am. Sure you don't want to join me?” He lowered his voice to the level that always got her eyes a little hooded and her breath raspy.

”Don't try your magic Texan voodoo on me. Go.”

He winked and followed her command, wondering how he could possibly last another week in such close quarters with her. Didn't his wicked little pinup know she was the one casting spells on him?

Chapter 12.

Mason couldn't concentrate. Actually, that was only partially true. For the first time in his professional life, he couldn't focus on work. Instead, he was hyperaware of Kevan as she sat across from him at the RV table. After breakfast, they spent their day typing on their laptops and occasionally stepping outside to use the phone. There was something about having her so close he found both rea.s.suring and unsettling. Her presence seemed to fill those empty s.p.a.ces he'd never noticed were there. The ones he'd filled with nonstop work and the occasional s.e.xual tryst.

That afternoon, when Kevan's phone starting playing Metallica's ”One,” she stared at it buzzing on the table and covered her mouth with her hand. She punched the answer b.u.t.ton and sucked in a deep breath. ”Bo?”

Mason glanced up from his laptop when she sniffled. Watery tears filled her eyes, and she nodded her head in response to whatever her brother was saying.

She looked at Mason with a raised brow and pointed to the back room. Her smile was weak, hopeful, but hesitant. He smiled and mouthed ”of course.” When she ran back to the bedroom and shut the door, sealing herself away from him, a shard of sorrow unexpectedly ripped through him. If only he could be there for her.

He tried hard to give her the privacy she deserved, but caught bits and pieces of the conversation through the thin door. The RV was a pretty small living s.p.a.ce, after all.

After his conversation with Jax earlier that morning, and hearing a few things slung around backstage about Kevan's brother, Mason doubted Bowen's chances of getting and staying clean and sober. Over the years in this business, he'd seen a lot of talented people throw it all away when their addictions consumed them. He hoped for Kevan's sake that Bowen took his recovery seriously. She needed dependable people on her side, people she could count on. b.u.mmer it couldn't be him.

He forced the feeling away before it took seed in his conscience. No; he was here to do a job. He wasn't making promises he couldn't keep or falling for a woman who was wrong for him on every level. Nope. Not gonna happen. Sure, he'd like to get her back into bed, maybe even a few times, to get her out of his system. But long-term wasn't his thing, and Kevan deserved something real. She may play up the provocative vamp act, but Kevan had white picket fences and happily ever after written all over her.

Sign the band. Bang the girl. Get out of Dodge. No harm, no foul.

Kevan was still on the phone, listening intently, when she walked back into the room, and Mason was struck by his intense reaction to her. He suddenly realized cutting his losses and moving on was easier said than done. No makeup, and the girl was a stunner, all glorious curves and creamy pale skin with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Had he ever spent this much time with a woman and still felt like it wasn't enough? No. Never.

Mason loved women, but he was a man focused on his career. With work overshadowing everything, he lost interest in relations.h.i.+ps quickly. And after bearing witness to the twenty-year civilized existence of his parents' cold, clinical marriage, he could never see himself settling for that type of business arrangement. So he was always up front and honest.

The more time he spent with Kevan, the more he felt compelled to peel back the layers of her quirky personality. f.u.c.k, peel back the layers of her crazy clothing. He wanted more. More of her. If someone had told him he'd feel this way after a onetime hookup, he would have laughed hysterically. Yes, she was a stunner, but he didn't have room in his life for a complicated woman like her.

Kevan walked back into the room as she ended her call. She stood in front of the window next to the built-in couch and stared out the window, lost in thought. He would have never chosen this near obsession with her. He must have snorted or laughed aloud, because her gaze snapped to his, and she looked at him strangely, with her eyes soft, her head c.o.c.ked to the side. He would always a.s.sociate that stance with Kevan. Even when this tour was over and they'd both moved on.

She tried to smile, but it looked more like a sad grimace.

”How's your brother?” he asked.