Brooklyn Rockstar (Kendall Family #1) (22 page)

His sudden mood change leaves me reeling. “Can you please tell me first what’s wrong?”

“Later,” he promises with a flirty wink, throwing his T-shirt over his arms.

Not wanting to be caught half naked again by the teens, I’m quick to dress behind him. But the uneasy feeling from seeing Charlie so weak doesn’t go far. He’s holding on to something
big. Life changing.
And I’m scared to death knowing he doesn’t want to tell me because he knows it will change everything between us.

I’m ready before Charlie’s done in the master bathroom, so I run to the front door to let his nephews in.

But I may as well have opened the door to a parallel universe.

A series of loud clicks explodes in front of me as reporters and photographers swarm the front step in a feral pack, shouting over each other. An overweight man crouched nearby yells, “Looking good,
Ms. Kendall!
Are you enjoying New York so far?”

My heart jumps into my throat and I suck in too big of a breath that leaves me wobbly on my feet.
How did he know my last name?
Taking a step back, I collide with a hard chest.

“You’re on private property!” Charlie growls behind me, wrapping a protective arm around my waist. “If you don’t clear out I’ll call the cops!”

“He…knows…my name,” I sputter, trying like hell to steady my breaths as my legs struggle to hold me up. Visions of my brothers and dad and the rest of the world seeing my name plastered everywhere make my stomach churn. I sink into the warmth of Charlie’s chest, wishing it would swallow me whole.

“Evelyn! Look over here!”

“Evelyn! Are you going to keep your job at Leona’s or follow Charlie on the road?”

“Who designed your dress, Evelyn?”

“Evelyn! How does it feel to be among the list of Charlie Walker’s groupies?”

“Evelyn, is it true you were hired by Charlie’s agent to fix his image?”

“Were you part of the ménage à trois that took place in Charlie’s apartment last weekend? How do you feel about sharing your man with others? Was it your idea or his?”

As Charlie leads me back toward the house, shouting obscenities over his shoulder, I grab his arm to stay on my feet. The reporter’s last questions volley back and forth through my head with the force of a gong until everything becomes dark.

I’m either going to throw up or pass out.

A
fter Evelyn’s
text Friday night saying she’d been invited to holiday at Charlie Walker’s beach house, the first real pangs of envy since this all began crept their way inside my head. It’s ridiculous, really. By now I love Evelyn like a sister and couldn’t fathom hating her like some jealous cow. Still, I’m the one who spent several years fantasizing what it’d be like to shag the rocker, and I do admit I’m a bit sad I won’t see my new flatmate for an entire weekend.

But as my mum would say,
Que Sera, Sera
. Of course these were also the last words she uttered to my father as she served him divorce papers and jumped on a plane back to England, so that saying certainly hasn’t done him any good.

The weekend passes with very little ado outside of clubbing with friends and watching a marathon of delightfully tacky 80s films over a tub of ice cream. As I’m debating what to do with myself on Tuesday morning, there’s a ring at the door. It doesn’t dawn on me that I’m wearing a see-through tank top beneath my kimono until after my ex gets an eyeful.

He greets me with a charming smile and leans against the doorframe, leering over my half-naked body. “Hello, sweetheart. That for me?”

I won’t deny that Richard looks quite fit. Dark hair grown to his chin and face deeply tanned, he’s likely returning from his latest adventure of climbing mountains and whatnot. I’ve never been one to turn down an outdoorsmen, especially one with emerald eyes that shine with the knowledge that I’m unable to resist his good looks. Apparently he still hasn’t come to terms with the inadequate size of his todger.

“I may be randy, but I’m not desperate,” I tell him, rolling my eyes as he steps inside. As if to spite me, my heart flutters with the familiar scent of his cologne—a mix of danger and intrigue, much like himself. Arms crossed over my nipples, I turn to face him square on. “What on earth are you doing here, Richard? Rent was transferred into your account three days ago.”

He claims one of the bar stools like he never left and we’re still flatmates. It feels far too familiar for me not to become edgy. “Ever since that Danielle woman moved out next door, I’ve been thinking about coming back to live there.”

I make a laughing noise that’s lacking in actual humor. “And what would that prove, exactly? If this is a ploy to get me back, you’re nutters. I’m not taking you back, Richard. We’ve gone over this before.”

Twice, to be exact. The first time I was pulled back in by his charm after I caught him with his tongue down some slag’s throat while we were still taking classes at the university. The second time, well after graduation, I should’ve known better when I walked in on him with his hand up another tart’s skirt, but he begged me to stay as his family had all passed and I was all he had left. I can’t decide which of us is more pathetic, really.

Richard leans back on the stool, giving the illusion that something must be stuffed inside his pants the way a sizable bulge appears. “We were good together, babe. You can’t deny it.”

My hand burns to slap him straight away for even suggesting such a thing. “You’re nothing more than a cheating trollop,” I argue. “If you’re not here as a friend, I kindly ask that you leave. You have no business here.”

Rising from his seat, he swaggers toward me with a smirk and pins me against the wall. “You’re lying.” The smell of cinnamon gum and the outdoors—something that would once wet my knickers—fills my lungs. “You can tell yourself all you want that it’s over between us, but your body will always crave my touch.”

The second he lifts his fingertips to dust across my bosom, my traitorous body becomes alive with vibrations and I’m unable to catch my breath. Damn it all to bloody hell, he’s right. Why can’t I ever seem to rid this troll from my life once and for all?

As if to answer my prayers, there’s a frantic knock on the door accompanied by a man’s incoherent shouting. Finally able to breathe, I smile sweetly at Richard. “If you’d kindly back away, I believe that’s for me.”

With a displeased look Richard steps back, allowing me to race for the door. My pulse flutters along with my eyelids as I pull in a sharp breath. On the other side there’s a rather fit bloke with a black overnight bag hanging from one impossibly broad shoulder. For a moment I’m afraid Evelyn has sent a strip-o-gram as some sort of cruel, twisted joke.

Dark thick brows drawn down, generous lips in a tight line, hard body flanked with tense muscles, the man’s quite obviously brassed off over something. My vision becomes unable to choose between the dark hair sticking out from beneath the cap or the stubble lining his strong jaw. From his frayed cargo shorts, worn T-shirt, and faded ball cap, I can’t imagine he’s from Brooklyn or even assume that he speaks English.

The only things I can say about him with upmost confidence is that (a) he works out and (b) he could easily be the most attractive creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. And the way his dark eyes drink every last inch of me in, unable to hide his interest in what he’s seeing, I’d bet my knickers he’s straight as an arrow.

A full minute of us appreciating each other must pass before our eyes lock. At once I recognize the man behind the warm brown eyes from pictures. Without having the faintest idea how to tell Evelyn’s twin siblings apart, I cry, “My love!” and spring to my toes, flinging my arms around his thick neck. “It’s so good to see you!”

Bloody hell, his muscular body feels wicked crammed against mine. Even his manly scent drives me mad with desire.

“Please help me out, mate,” I whisper. “My ex won’t bugger off.” I don’t know much about her brothers other than the fact that they’re diligent workers and fiercely protective, having driven their little sister out of town.

When I back away, his still hard gaze draws over to Richard. “Who are you?” the twin demands in a deep, husky voice, reaching down to take my hand. Warm tingles trail up my arm when his much larger fingers twist with mine. I want to jump up and down like a school girl when Richard flinches from the gesture. A coward like him would never start a row with the massive man at my side.

“Darling, you do remember me telling you about my landlord Richard?” I say, squeezing the twin’s giant hand. “He popped by to let me know rent is going down yet again. Isn’t that lovely?”

“Lovely,” the brother parrots, passing Richard a menacing glare. “A simple call would’ve been even better.” His immense chest expands as the two men stare each other down. As much as I’d fancy watching the fit twin kick Richard’s pathetic arse, poor Richard wouldn’t have a chance of leaving in anything other than a body bag.

Finally my cowardly ex moves forward, his eyes on the floor. “I was just leaving,” he mumbles, taking off toward the door. He pauses to look back at me before pulling on the handle. “Don’t push it, Shar. I’m already giving you one hell of a deal. I’ll be around.”

“Anything you have to say to her can be done by phone,” the twin calls after him.

Once the door slams shut behind Richard, I turn to the twin and laugh brightly. “You were brilliant.”

Eyes flickering down to my mouth, he drops my hand like a hot potato, and his brown eyes darken even more though I can’t imagine how it’s possible. He already appears ready to throw his Thor-sized fist through the wall. “If you don’t want anything to do with that guy, why’d you let him in? You shouldn’t be letting strangers like me in, either. That’s self defense one-oh-one.”

“You’re hardly a stranger. I recognized you from Ev’s photographs. You’re Hunter…or James. Sorry, I haven’t the faintest idea which.”

“James,” he answers briskly, eyes fluttering about the flat. “Where’s Evelyn?”

He may be rather striking, but apparently he’s not one for conversation. It occurs to me Evelyn wouldn’t have run off with Charlie had she known her brother was going to be in town and she would’ve at least mentioned it. This can’t be good. “She’s out for the day, I’m afraid. Working
.
At the bar.” I’m a piss poor liar. “Did she know you were coming?”

“I need to talk to her
now,”
he insists, reaching inside his bag to produce a rolled up tabloid. With pictures of Evelyn plastered across the cover.

Bloody hell. I casually take the glossy magazine for a closer inspection. In addition to the pictures of her posing with the girls at her cafe, there are several from the night we were jumped outside of Leona’s. The headline reads
“Who’s that Girl?”

If I dare stop to actually read the article inside, he may realize there’s a bit of truth to the story. It’s imperative that I talk him down before he blows his top. I hand it back over. “Certainly you don’t believe this rubbish.”

The brother grabs his phone, flicking the screen with a thick finger. “Yesterday I got an email from some woman saying my sister is sleeping with Charlie Walker. When I found pictures of them together plastered all over the web, I took the first flight I could get out here. This wasn’t the only magazine I saw at the airport with her full name attached to them. Tell me if I should believe these.”

He hands me his phone, showing a picture of Evelyn and Charlie holding hands on a beach near the same yacht club my father often goes when chartering boats. The headlines claim she’s his new flavor of the month. At least they both appear to be having a splendid time with matching grins on their faces and a tasteful swimsuit looks smashing on her frame.

James’s eyes narrow on my face, sending an unexpected shiver down my spine. Fit and intense as hell. Can’t decide which turns me on more. “Why is my little sister running around New York with a fucking rockstar? Is he the reason she moved out here? Is she even living with you, or was that a bunch of bullshit the two of you cooked up for my dad’s benefit?”

“Listen here,
James
,” I warn, narrowing my eyes back at him and poking his chest with my finger. I stall for a moment when his muscle refuses to soften beneath my touch. He’s built like a house. “Who do you think you are, appearing at my doorstep and accusing me of ‘bullshit?’ Just because you’re Evelyn’s brother doesn’t mean I know you from Bob. As you were so quick to point out, you’re a stranger and I don’t appreciate your tone. I most certainly don’t want to be having this bloody conversation with you about my flatmate when she’s a grown adult and not here to defend herself.”

The giant man seems to soften a smidgen. Tension rolling off his wide shoulders, he dips his chin and his eyes close. They reopen, their chocolate depths swarming with regret. “I spent half the night sitting in the O’hare Airport, waiting for a connecting flight. Guess it gave me too much time to think. After seeing my sister’s reputation smeared on national news and being caged up for a few hours, I’m all fired up.”

One pathetic look from the bloke and I’m ready to forgive him for being so hard on Evelyn. Rolling my eyes, I decide kindness is the only way out of this. “Come on then, drop your knapsack by the door and have a seat. I’ll put on a cuppa tea.”

He drops the bag and strides after me. “Water’s fine. Not much of a tea drinker.”

After I grab two bottles, we settle side-by-side on the couch, knees mere inches apart. Heat from the mammoth man warms me in parts that as of late had become inoperable. I’m struck with a delicious vision of what I could do with the healthy lips bent my way in a smile, showing a row of dazzling pearly whites.

“Let’s start over,” he suggests, offering his massive hand once again. “I’m James. Guessing you're Sharlo.”

“That’s more like it, mate,” I tease, taking his hand. Biting my lip, I pray he doesn’t hear the delighted hum that falls from my lips. “It’s my pleasure, James. Keep at it and I’ll mistake you for a proper brother and not the Neanderthal that’s been harassing my flatmate most her life.”

“You don’t know the whole story,” he insists, dropping my hand. Leaned back against the couch, his head tilts to the ceiling. “After our mom died, she got lost in the mix with a house full of men. Our sisters had already graduated and left home. The only thing left for Ev to do was fill our mom’s role. She didn’t have much time for dating. There wasn’t time for that kind of thing between the farm and keeping our dad out of trouble.”

Dark eyes hitting mine, he pulls up on his cap a few times before setting it on the couch at his side. A fit head full of touchable hair spills down, touching the tops of his ears. I don’t realize I’m staring until he clears his throat.

Aces. As he’s going on about his dead mum, I’m dreaming of running my hands through his thick locks while those brilliant lips trail across my body.

I straighten my spine and hope my cheeks aren’t rosy, giving my thoughts away. “There are some things you need to know straight away, James. First off, your sister is not nearly as inexperienced as you would think. She simply hid her love life from you and your brother after you wankers ran her out from the backend of that truck while she was enjoying a lovely evening with someone she had been dating for quite some time.” Stopping to take a breath, I roll my eyes. “Nice one, really.”

He sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “She was dating that clown?”

“You really are daft. Of course. Your sister is not some slag, James. She was simply too embarrassed to set you straight with a yard full of their mates watching on as you started a row with the poor bloke.” He opens his mouth to speak, but I shake my head.

“Second off, your sister is
twenty-two years old
. You don’t possess the right to dictate her life. And her decision to move here had nothing to do with Charlie Walker. She didn’t even bloody meet the chap until after she moved here. It may seem she’s moving fast, but once again she’s an adult, capable of making her own decisions. You don’t have the right to fly halfway across the country to yell at her for dating someone because you don’t like his music or whatever bone you have to pick with Charlie despite the fact that you’ve never even met him. Next time you decide to visit your sister on a whim, might I suggest you simply make a phone call instead of wasting your time and money chasing after someone who’s quite capable of looking out for herself.”

The darkness in his eyes gives me the shivers. There seems to be a queue of emotions driving this complicated man. Can’t remember the last time I was this turned on without a vibrator in hand.