Love Rock'ollection: The Brutal Strength Rock Star Trilogy, books 1-3 (60 page)

LATER THAT EVENING, she sat on the black leather sectional in Marcus’ apartment with Justin, the modern swing lamp providing the only light in the darkened room. She had her feet tucked up underneath her and a mug of tea held to her lips. Marcus had already gone onto bed. She knew he had excused himself so that she and Justin could have some time to reconnect.

“What’s the latest news on Campanella?” she asked.

“I’m still on the list of witnesses when his case goes to trial in the spring,” Justin said carefully. “They’ve got a long list of charges against him besides his attempt to murder me. Although, after the drug rehab I don’t think my testimony’s going to be as credible as the others.”

“Speaking of the others, do you still hear from Antonia?”

“Not since she went back to Italy and moved in with her folks, but I’m sure I’ll see her again at the trial.”

“So you’re not together?” she asked. “I thought you two were serious.”

“Things were already going south with her way before I went into rehab.” He shrugged. “I’m unattached and I’m planning to stay that way awhile. Enough questions about me now. Tell me about the tour.”

“Sixteen cities in twenty-one days.”

“Holy shit. That’s a lot of moving around, Avery.”

She offered a shrug of her own. “It’ll be fun. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I don’t know. That’s a lot of pressure, especially for someone like Marcus. He strikes me as one of those guys who likes everything just so.”

She nodded. “Definitely. That’s him for sure.”

“This will be a totally different deal than the club gigs we’ve done. You’re going to be playing huge venues, performing for different crowds and critics almost every night. That’s not a stable situation for a relationship like yours that’s just starting out.”

“I agree it’s ambitious, but we’ll be ok. This isn’t BS’s first tour, you know. I think Marcus and the guys have the whole routine down by now.” She gave him a probing look. “I’m more worried about you. You ok to go hang out on Vancouver Island for a while with the Anthony’s?”

“And the water buffalo?” He rolled his eyes. “I guess so. Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Marcus’ mom can be pretty intimidating.”

“I’ll be alright, but I’d rather be coming with you.”

“That wouldn’t be such a good idea.” Her muscles tensed. “For a number of reasons.”

“I get that.” Justin frowned. “We’ve had this discussion already and I agreed. It’s just that,” he smoothed an auburn strand of her hair behind her ear, “I’ll miss you. It seems like every time I get to see you now we’re always saying goodbye. Plus it’s gonna be kinda weird staying with people I don’t know.”

“It’s a serene place. I know they could use your help on the farm. I think you’ll like it.”

“If you say so.” He stood and walked over to the windows. The sparkling lights of the waterfront and West Vancouver twinkled in the distance.

Avery could see the tension in the set lines of his shoulders.

“I want to go see Dad,” he said softly.

“Why in the world would you want to do that?” she asked, crossing the room and standing next to him.

He turned to look over at her, resolve etched on his features. “Avery, it’s been almost four years. He’s our father. There are things that need to be said. I realized through counseling that I was using drugs as an escape. I’ve gotta stop that pattern. He’s here and I want to face him. I can’t let the past dictate my future anymore.”

Avery’s lip trembled. “But all the drinking, the things he did and said.”

“I’m not gonna excuse them.” Justin put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “And I’ll never forget. But I need to try to move on. Can you understand that?”

She stared out the window for a long time before she eventually nodded.

AVERY GROANED WHEN the alarm went off at five thirty the next morning. “Just five more minutes,” she mumbled burying her head back under the pillow.

“Uh-uh.” Marcus slapped her on the rear, eliciting a yelp. “Up, Ace. Or you won’t have time for coffee.”

“Alright,” she grumbled, rolling over and sprawling out on top of him. She leaned in and feathered light kisses along the line of his stubbled jaw.

“Stop stalling.” He flipped on the light.

She cringed, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Go get in the shower,” he ordered, voice low and authoritative.

Avery muttered under her breath, got up, stretched, and padded to the bathroom.

Marcus watched with heated admiration. She was adorable in her Victoria Secret pink plaid boxers and camisole top. When she caught him staring, she wiggled her ass and fluttered her eyelashes. “Will you ask Ray to stop and get me a café latte from Café Artigiano on the way?”

He grabbed his watch off the nightstand and checked the time. “Probably, but you’d better hurry so we can both have time to shower.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “We’ll save water and time if you shower with me.”

Hell, yeah
. Marcus jumped out of bed, grabbed her, and threw her over his shoulder. Her giggling turned into a moan as he stroked a finger along the inside edge of her boxers.

Forty-five satisfying minutes later, Ray pulled the car into a back alley off Central Street.

“I hope they have coffee,” Avery mumbled dubiously, looking out the back window.

“They will,” Marcus assured her, following the direction of her gaze. Though the overnight rain had dwindled to a light mist, a group of people still milled around underneath the shelter of a canopy. Off to the right a nearby motor home was marked with a production sign.

“Anyway, whose fault is it that we didn’t have time to stop for lattes?”

“It was worth it.” Her green eyes glittered in the predawn light.

A knock on the tinted window of the Mercedes had them pulling apart.

“Ms. Jones?” asked a tall guy wearing jeans, his red hoodie pulled up over a Mariners cap.

“Yes,” she answered rolling down the window.

“Scott Westfield, production assistant.” His words were punctuated by white puffs of condensation. “I need you to follow me. We’re running late.”

Avery gave Marcus a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for coming with me.” She opened the door and hurried after him.

Marcus’ brows drew together as he watched her go. The time before the tour was passing away too quickly. He was beginning to resent every single moment the outside world stole from them.

After pulling on his jacket, he left Ray inside the car and made his way over to the canopied area. It seemed to be the centralized area for the shoot. He poured himself a coffee and stood next to the makeshift breakfast buffet trying to decide what to eat when he noticed Avery emerge from the motor home. He froze, momentarily transfixed by the sight. “Incredible,” he whispered.

Avery didn’t normally wear much makeup; her creamy complexion and dark eyelashes and eyebrows made it unnecessary. Still, whoever had put the stuff on her this morning knew what they were doing. The grey eye shadow around her eyes made them appear smoky and sultry. Her full lips were accentuated in bold red, and her coppery hair styled into loose curls. He found it impossible to look away.

The dress she wore made her look like a fairy tale princess. It was strapless, champagne colored and diaphanous, a perfect complement to her pale lightly freckled skin. The hemline swirled around her ankles like sea foam. He had a sudden irrational desire to sweep her up in his arms and take her away, lock her forever in a tall tower, and share her with no one.

His eyes met hers. She gave him a shy smile, lifted up the hem of her dress, and tiptoed around the puddles to reach him. “How do I look?” She peered up at him through mile long mascaraed lashes.

“Utterly captivating.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “But is it wrong that I want to take you back to the apartment and peel it all off?”

Blushing, she shook her head. “Thanks. I feel silly dressed like this in an alley.”

“You look gorgeous but I bet you’re cold.”

She shrugged.

“Did you already get some coffee?”

“Yeah, I…” She trailed off as they both turned to look in the direction of an angry voice.

“Come on, move along,” Westfield was talking to a grizzled, shabbily dressed man leaning up against the side of the brick building. “You can’t stay here.”

“Scott, wait a minute.” Avery grabbed a can of orange juice off the buffet and hurried across the alley, squatting down next to the man.

Curious and a little concerned, Marcus strode after her.

“Hey,” she said to him with a gentle smile. “I’m Avery Jones.” She held out her hand.

The man looked at her outstretched hand, hesitating for a moment before he took it. “Dennis.”

“Nice to meet you, Dennis.”

“You getting married?” Dennis asked with wide eyes.

“No, just getting my picture taken.” Avery giggled. “You can watch us work if you’d like. It might be interesting. But it’s much warmer over in the tent and we have way too much food. Would you consider coming over and helping us eat some of it?”

“Sure.” His face lit up and he smiled back at her with a toothless grin. “That would be real nice. Thank you.”

She nodded and walked back over with him.

Heart swelling with pride, Marcus watched as she introduced the homeless man to the crew as if he was an honored guest. When she returned, he pulled her into his chest and squeezed her tight.

“You’ll mess up my makeup.” Her voice was muffled against his jacket.

“Avery Jones. That was incredibly kind. How did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

She leaned back to look up at him. “That goes both ways, Marcus.”

“I think in our case, the scales might be a little lopsided.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s a matter of opinion.”

“I love you, Ace,” He whispered with two fingers held gently over her lips. He glanced over her shoulder at Dennis. “But you know you can’t save everyone.”

“I know.” She kissed his fingertips. “But if it weren’t for friends helping Justin and me, we could have ended up just like Dennis. We have so much, Marcus. Don’t we have to at least try to help those we can? By paying it forward we let people like Dennis know they matter. That someone cares. Maybe it won’t change the world, but it might change his world.”

Westfield cleared his throat. “The photographer’s ready for you.”

“Ok.” Avery squeezed Marcus’ hand. “Will you see about getting Dennis somewhere to stay when we’re done here? Some where he can go where he’ll be safe?”

“Absolutely.” Marcus smiled and pulled his cell out of his jean pocket. “I’ll be over in a bit. It’ll just take me a minute to make a couple of calls.”

“Thank you,” she said and kissed him on the lips.

“Makeup!” Scott groaned. “We need makeup on set!” he shouted.

Avery laughed. “I love you.”

“Ditto, Ace.”

AN HOUR LATER, Marcus was seething and Avery was shivering uncontrollably. They had taken tons of pictures in front of the Granville Market graffiti mural, none of which pleased the temperamental, grumbling photographer.

His forty-something face pinching into a grimace, he drew off his knit cap and threw it on the wet pavement. “I don’t know how they expect me to work in these conditions and with this,” he said, gesturing at Avery, “neophyte.”