Sweet Possession

CHAPTER 6

Lyric didn’t argue when Connor walked her to the passenger side as the valet brought the car around. After she was in, she laid her head back on the rest and closed her eyes.

The car rocked when Connor got in and shut his door.

“Head still hurt?” Connor asked as they drove away from the hotel.

She cracked one eye open to look at him. “How did you know?”

“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. You’ve been sensitive to light and sound all afternoon. Have you taken anything for it?”

She shook her head.

He made a sound of exasperation. “Why not? Are you a masochist?”

“I don’t like to take anything unless it’s necessary,” she defended.

“I’d say a headache deserves an Excedrin or two. I’ll stop by a drugstore on the way and get you something.”

Dumbfounded, she watched as he pulled into a CVS and parked at the front entrance. He glanced over with a regretful expression. “You probably don’t want to get out, but where I go, you go, so you’ll have to come in.” He switched off the engine. “Sit tight. I’ll come around.”

She was used to a certain amount of deference. People tended to fawn over her and kiss her ass. She didn’t have any illusions it was anything personal to her. You could be a complete asshole and be famous and people would still line up to bow and scrape. She wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t enjoy it. Who wouldn’t like being treated like a rock star?

But Connor’s consideration meant something, and she couldn’t even say why. Maybe it was because he wasn’t the type to give a damn about her fame. It was obvious he wasn’t impressed with her as a person. And yet he did things he didn’t have to do, and it gave her more pleasure than she would have guessed.

He opened her door and extended his hand. She slid her fingers into his, enjoying the warmth and strength of his grip. He helped her from the car and held her elbow so she was flush against his body as they walked inside the pharmacy.

They fit, which was stupid of her to notice or to dwell on. But they fit perfectly. His body shielded hers like it was made to do so.

Never once did he actually look at her, which was fascinating because she was used to people staring at her and watching her every move. No, Connor looked at everyone else. He sized them up, assessed the potential threat and hurried Lyric toward the back of the store.

Not that anyone would recognize her. Out of deference to Connor—and because she was too tired for a fight—she’d dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore no makeup. With a pair of sunglasses to shield her eyes from the sun that made her head pound, she could be anyone and no one.

Connor stopped in front of the array of pain relievers. “Do you have any drug allergies?”

She couldn’t even believe he thought to ask. Was there anything he didn’t think of? She shook her head in response.

Nodding, he selected the box marked “tension headache,” then touched her arm and herded her toward the checkout.

“I can’t figure you out,” she said a few minutes later when they’d gotten back into the car.

He opened the box, shook out two pills, then handed her a bottle of water he’d also bought at the checkout. “What can’t you figure out? I’m a pretty straightforward guy. We aren’t hard to learn. Women, on the other hand . . .”

“Oh no, you’re anything but simple. One minute you act like I’m below pond scum, and the next minute you’re nice to me.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to like you.”

Okay, he had her there. Or so she thought. Did she want him to like her? It was obvious she did from the ridiculous way she acted around him. She hadn’t been this aware of her actions and how they were perceived by others in years. Not since her last stint as a ward of the state where she finally learned that she was just another case number in an unending stack of paperwork.

Not giving a damn was freeing. If it didn’t matter whom you hurt or whom you offended, then you never felt bad when you did so.

“I didn’t say I wanted you to like me,” she said carefully. “Just that you do and then you don’t. Thank you for the headache medicine. It was thoughtful of you.”

Connor shrugged. “It was obvious you were hurting and you didn’t have to be. You need to learn to take better care of yourself.”

She frowned at that assertion but let it go. “So where is it we’re going exactly?”

“To my sister and brother-in-law’s house. They’re having everyone over for beer and barbecue. It’s practically the law down here that you have at least one a week.”

“Life in the South, huh.”

She couldn’t help the disdain or the way her lip curled. She tried to hold it back. Really, she did.

He lifted a brow as they stopped for a light. “You have a bit of a drawl. Bet you were born south of the Mason-Dixon.”

She looked at him, aghast. No one had ever commented on an accent. She’d worked damn hard to remove any instance of it in her speech.

“I do not have a drawl!”

He nodded. “Yeah, you do. It’s subtle, but it’s there. More of a lazy lilt to your words than a distinct accent. You definitely have the flavor of the South, though.”

She was utterly appalled. Her stomach churned and her head throbbed painfully. “Where do you think I’m from?” she croaked.

“Oh, I dunno. Like I said, it’s just a hint. You don’t have to look quite so disgusted. We’re not all backwoods hicks, you know.”

She could still hear the drawn-out, slow drawl in her nightmares. Whispered in her ear. It made her physically ill. For some people, a Southern drawl was like brown sugar. For her it was like nails on a chalkboard.

“Hey, no reason to get uptight. It was just an observation. I’m wrong once or twice a year.”

She tried to smile at his joke but her face felt too tight. She decided a change in subject was the best course before she did or said something to make an even bigger ass of herself.

“So all your friends are married?”

“Micah’s not. Not for lack of trying. Angelina is pregnant, and he’d like to get her to the altar before she pops the kid out.”

“Good for her,” Lyric said. “Just because a guy gets you pregnant doesn’t mean he’s the right guy to marry.”

“Apparently he was right to sleep with,” Connor said dryly. “And it’s not like a guy gets a girl pregnant by himself. There’s definitely some cooperation on the egg’s part.”

“Oh huh-uh. The boy sperm chases down the girl egg and throws himself on her.”

“More like the girl egg crooks her finger and then when the poor unsuspecting sperm comes near, she sucks him in.”

Lyric wrinkled her nose. “I think this is perhaps the most unromantic reproduction talk I’ve ever had.”

Connor chuckled. “Micah loves Angelina, and she loves him. They’ll get married. She just wants to make sure it’s what he wants.”

They pulled into a neighborhood that had all the hallmarks of middle-class suburbia. The entrance was manicured and mowed, trimmed to the nth degree. All the lawns looked like showcases.

The houses were cute cookie-cutters and it was like a scene from Currier and Ives with children playing in an idyllic setting. She’d never been to a scarier place in her life.

“Good God, it’s a Stepford neighborhood,” she muttered.

Connor snorted and pulled into a driveway at the end of a cul-de sac. Lyric’s brow went up as she viewed the Welcome sign just off the walkway to the front door. She burst out laughing and got out.

“Your sister and brother-in-law can’t be all bad,” Lyric said as Connor motioned her to go in front of him.

There in the middle of a neighborhood filled with houses without so much as a grass blade out of place was a house with a sign that read: Beer served here daily.

“I’m impressed. The grass looks like it’s gone a week without cutting,” Lyric said with a grin.

Connor rang the doorbell and laughed. “Yeah, it’s Gray’s way of rebelling against the Homeowners’ Association. It pisses him off that they presume to tell him what to do with his house and lawn, so he waits until he says the neighborhood watchdog starts twitching and foaming at the mouth before he mows the lawn.”

“I think I’m going to like your friends,” she said just as the door opened.

“Well, I hope so,” Gray Montgomery said. He gestured at Connor. “You can’t judge us by this knucklehead.”

Again Lyric was struck by how out of her element she felt. And how intimidated she was by these people. Average, everyday, normal people. It didn’t compute. She should have all these good ole boys kissing her ass just like the rest of the country.

She winced even as the belligerent thought crossed her mind. It was a natural reaction, one she had to fight with increasing regularity. When threatened, lash out. Cover up. Never let them see you at a disadvantage.

“Would you like to come in?” Gray asked.

It was then she realized Connor had already stepped inside the house and she was still on the doorstep gawking like a moron.

“Yeah, thanks,” she said lamely.

She followed the men inside the house and heard distant laughter. Her palms went damp and she rubbed them down her jeans when they entered the living room.

She recognized Faith, and she remembered Nathan Tucker and Micah Hudson from her meeting at Malone’s. Sitting on Micah’s lap with Micah’s hand splayed possessively across her swollen belly had to be Angelina.

Micah was more her usual speed with his floppy hair that hung to his shoulders and the earring glinting in his ear. Nathan Tucker was just downright yummy, though, with his bald head, earring and total badass body. If the woman sitting next to him didn’t look like she could kick Lyric’s and Connor’s asses both, she’d allow herself to drool over the man.

“Hi, Lyric!” Faith called out. “I’m so glad you came.”

The blond woman walked over and took Lyric’s hand before Lyric could draw away. She tugged Lyric forward until she stood in front of the other two women.

“Guys, this is Lyric Jones. Superstar pop singer Lyric Jones, just in case you’ve been living on another planet.”

Lyric had certainly been introduced in more glowing terms than that, but for some reason the implied praise in Faith’s voice discomfited her.

“Lyric, these are two of my best friends, Julie Tucker and Angelina Moyano. I’m just sorry Serena isn’t here to meet you. She and her husband, Damon, are fans. They caught one of your shows in Vegas.”

Lyric smiled and fidgeted under the other women’s scrutiny.

“Nice to meet you,” she offered.

“Hi, Lyric,” Angelina said with a sweet smile. “I’d get up but it would require a forklift.”

Julie snorted and rose from her perch beside Nathan, though Nathan’s hand lingered on her hip. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Julie. It’s nice to meet you, Lyric.”

Lyric shook her hand and smiled again. Now came the awkward part where either uncomfortable silence fell or they made inane small talk about nothing. She hated both options.

To her surprise, Connor came to her rescue. He touched her arm and motioned her back toward Faith while Julie took her seat next to her husband.

“Connor said you haven’t eaten today, Lyric,” Faith said. Her brow creased with concern. “He also said you have a headache. I wanted to ask you what you’d like to eat. Connor wasn’t sure you liked barbecue. Are you a vegetarian? I can make you a salad.”

Lyric threw a puzzled look in Connor’s direction. It was really nice that he’d noticed the fact she hadn’t eaten and that he’d spoken to his sister about her potential likes or dislikes, but where had she gotten the idea that Lyric was a vegetarian?

“No, I’m not a vegetarian. And barbecue is fine. Really.”

“Faith, you dork,” Julie said. “Just because she’s a celebrity doesn’t mean she eats tofu and bean sprouts.”

Faith’s cheeks reddened but guilt flashed in her eyes. Lyric laughed. She couldn’t help it. Of all the assumptions made about her, this was by far the tamest one yet. She wanted to hug Faith.

“You’re very sweet to think of me,” Lyric said sincerely. “But to be honest, I’m a huge carnivore. I don’t eat vegetables. I think I’m still rebelling against my childhood when I was told to eat my veggies or go to bed without eating. More often than not, I snuck crackers and cheese after everyone went to bed.”

Julie grinned. “My kind of woman.”

Faith hooked her arm through Lyric’s and pulled her toward the kitchen. “Then how about a little snack before dinner? Gray just fired up the grill before you and Connor got here, so it’ll be a while yet before the meat is done.”

“Snack?” Lyric asked hopefully. “It’s not carrots or celery sticks, is it?”

Faith’s eyes twinkled and her smile broadened. “No, I made cupcakes.”

Lyric decided she was really a lesbian and immediately plotted to steal Faith away from Gray. She loved anyone who offered her a cupcake.

“I’d love one,” Lyric said with a little too much excitement.

The two women entered the spacious kitchen and Lyric caught her breath. It sounded silly, but this was the first time she’d been in an actual home in a long time. The kitchen was cheerful and warm and it reminded Lyric of long-ago moments with her own mother.

“I have strawberry with cream cheese frosting, or vanilla with chocolate frosting,” Faith said.

Lyric hesitated and stared at the perfectly iced cupcakes on the platter in the center of the island.

“Or you could have one of each,” Faith offered.

“Sold!”

Faith laughed and handed over two of the cupcakes.

Lyric bit into the strawberry cupcake first and sighed. It had been a long time since something so simple as a cupcake made her happy, but at the moment she couldn’t imagine anything better.

“Would you like something for your headache? I have ibuprofen and Tylenol.”

Lyric licked frosting from her lip and shook her head. “Connor took good care of me. He bought some Excedrin.”

“I’m glad,” Faith said softly, “that he’s taking good care of you. Connor . . . He can be difficult.”

Lyric cracked up. She couldn’t help it. Faith gave her a bewildered look and Lyric set the chocolate cupcake down on the island.

“Most people would say I’m the difficult one. You know, spoiled pop star diva? I’m sure it’s all been said more than once.”

Faith frowned. “We women have to stick together. Never admit you’re more trouble than a man even if it’s the truth. It’s better if they get it in their heads early that they are the source of all angst in this world.”

Lyric smudged her finger over the top of the cupcake and sucked the frosting from the tip. “I think you are a very wise woman, Faith. I had you pegged as a total Susie Sunshine, and when I saw your neighborhood I figured you for a Stepford wife. I’m relieved that I was wrong on all counts.”

“Hmmm. Susie Sunshine. That’s a new one. I’ll have to remember it for when Gray starts complaining that I’m mean.”

Lyric grinned.

“I want one of those cupcakes!”

Lyric turned to see Angelina enter the kitchen, her gaze fixed on the cupcake in Lyric’s hand like she was about to attack.

“You can’t have it,” Faith said in exasperation. “Micah would kill me.”

“He doesn’t have to know,” Angelina said pointedly.

“Don’t you give her one,” Faith said when Lyric started to hand a cupcake to Angelina. “She has to watch her blood sugar. She failed her first glucose tolerance test and they want to do a repeat. Until they get the results, she has to watch her sugar intake.”

“Wow, I take back what I said about you being nice,” Lyric said. “That’s pretty ruthless. Withholding sugar from a pregnant woman.”

“I’ll take that,” Julie said as she walked by and lifted the cupcake from Lyric’s hand.

Lyric shot her a dark look. “I’ve killed people for less.”

Julie’s eyebrow shot up. “And you people call me vicious. If she keeps that up, I’ll have to tell Connor to collar her.”

“Only if you want it wrapped around your mouth,” Lyric drawled.

“Did you all desert the guys?” Faith asked as she frowned at Julie.

“Oh, they’re out bonding over charcoal,” Angelina said with a wave of her hand. “You know what happens when you mix men, lighter fluid, a grill and beer.”

“Sit,” Faith directed Angelina. “I swear I don’t know how you stand. You’re all belly. It seems like you’d teeter over.”

Angelina scowled at Faith but hoisted herself up onto a bar stool. Julie took a seat across the bar from Angelina and arched an eyebrow in her direction.

“Okay, so give us the scoop, Angelina. When are you going to put Micah out of his misery?”

Faith shook her head. “It’s like déjà vu. We had this same conversation with Serena before she married Damon.”

Lyric shifted from one foot to the other. As if sensing Lyric’s discomfort, Faith turned to explain.

“Serena is our other best friend and she made Damon wait before she agreed to marry him.”

“Yes, but she waited because she wasn’t sure,” Angelina softly interjected. “That’s not the case here. I’d marry Micah tomorrow, but I have to be sure this is what he wants. I won’t be second best. I won’t have him marry me because he feels it’s the right thing to do.”

Faith moved beside Angelina and wrapped an arm around her. “He loves you, honey. He loves you and Nia so much. You’re all he talks about at work. The guys avoid him because he drives them crazy asking them baby stuff they don’t have a clue about.”

“That’s sweet,” Lyric murmured.

Angelina sighed. “He’s great. Really, he is. He’s been so wonderful with me and the baby. I’m crazy about him and I don’t want to be without him.”

“Then why are you driving yourself crazy?” Faith asked gently.

Angelina chewed on her lip, her dark eyes shadowed by worry. “I have this fear that he’ll wake up one day and think to himself that I’m not the one he wanted. That he’s trapped. That I pressured him into a relationship he didn’t want. You have to admit, I pursued him relentlessly.”

Lyric raised an eyebrow. Her opinion of the other woman just went up by several notches. She liked a woman who knew her mind and didn’t sit around waiting for what she wanted.

“It’s all about taking a chance,” Julie said. “I’ve thought the same thing about Nathan more times than I care to admit. I used to worry that he’d get tired of me and move on. But he convinced me to give him a chance, and really, there aren’t any guarantees. Men do stupid shit all the time. There’s a trigger when they hit middle age that they want dumber, younger and prettier.”

“Oh Jesus, Julie.” Faith groaned. “You’re not helping here.”

Julie shrugged. “Just telling the truth. The point is, you have to take a chance and you have to not only love your guy but you have to trust that he loves you just as much. What else can you do?”

“When you put it like that,” Angelina said ruefully.

Faith squeezed Angelina again. “You almost make me want to give you a cupcake.”

Lyric laughed at the disgusted look on Angelina’s face.

“I hope we haven’t bored you, Lyric,” Faith said anxiously. “I’m sure you’re used to a livelier party.”

Lyric held up her hand. “Don’t, please. This is great. Really. It was really nice of you to have me. I know you weren’t expecting us.”

Faith reached over and impulsively squeezed Lyric’s hand. “I’m so glad you came. It’s so interesting to see the woman behind all the gossip and realize you’re nothing like everyone says you are.”

Horror crawled across Faith’s face as soon as the words were out. She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, that was stupid. I didn’t mean . . .”

“It’s all right,” Lyric said lightly. “Don’t apologize. Half of what they say is likely true and the other half is probably a variation of the truth.”

Julie’s eyebrows went up. “So you really had an orgy on your tour bus?”

Lyric hadn’t heard that one. “Sure, why not. I’m sure it’s written in the rule book somewhere that all rock stars have at least one on the bus per tour.”

She kept the hurt from her voice and wondered what demon possessed her to perpetuate the rumors. She figured if people were dumb enough to believe that crap, they didn’t deserve the truth. They probably wouldn’t believe it anyway.

“I totally made that up,” Julie said darkly.

Lyric shrugged. “You aren’t the first.”

Faith frowned. “That must be an awful way to live, Lyric. How do you stand it?”

What to say to that? She could leave her life at any time, but it wasn’t like a new life awaited her. Maybe one day she’d figure out what to do beyond her singing career, but the thing was, she loved to sing. She even liked the fame, the hoopla, the fans and the crowds. She wouldn’t apologize for that as many celebrities felt compelled to do. She’d worked damn hard to get to where she was and she wasn’t about to piss it away over false guilt.

“I like it. It pays well,” Lyric cracked.

She hated the sympathy shining in all their eyes. It was like they looked at her and thought, Oh, you poor thing. Whatever. There were millions of people who had it far worse than she did. What were a few rumors and a bad reputation next to starving in some shithole in Mississippi?

The people she grew up with were probably still there, dirt-poor in the same pissant town, married to the same shitty people and raising the same shitty kids.

“Julie, would you go out and ask the menfolk how much longer on the meat? I need to make the salad and bread,” Faith said, breaking the silence.

“I’ll go. I can’t sit in one spot for too long. Makes me crazy,” Angelina muttered. “My back is killing me.”

As soon as Angelina had left the kitchen, Julie leaned forward with a wicked grin and whispered, “I keep telling her she’s really having twins and that they missed one of the babies when they did the sonogram.”

Faith shook her head and laughed. “You are so evil, Julie.”