Authors: Nicky Wells
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction, #Humor
What I said was, “That sounds like fun.”
Dan regarded me with confused eyes. Evidently, too much time had elapsed between his last statement and my response for him to make the connection. “The party,” I reminded him. “That sounds like fun.”
“It was all right,” Dan mumbled. “A bit late, but you know how these things go.”
I did indeed.
Well actually,
I corrected myself,
I didn’t.
I had never seen Dan like this, not even when we went on tour together. I had never known him to stay up all night and give up on sleep altogether. He had always been too aware of his health and the physical demands of touring or promoting, and he had always taken care of himself.
Always.
Then again, he hadn’t had a proxy-family to look after in days of old, and he would have slept in the mornings. Dan had been burning the candle at both ends for weeks on top of this dreadful cold, and he looked as though he was about to drop. I felt bad. I felt awful.
This had to stop
.
We had to talk about this. I had to get him to see reason and to look after himself. Us Joneses, we could look after ourselves while he was busy, like we had done before. He didn’t need to run himself ragged over us, and I would order him to stop. Now, however, was not the time.
Let him get through the day and talk tomorrow
, I decided.
At least he’s had lots of food and plenty of fluids.
“What’s the plan for the rest of the day?” I chatted, taking great care to leave my voice light and unconcerned. “More rehearsals? Sound check? Interviews?”
Dan sat back in his chair and patted his belly.
“We’re resting until the party,” he announced. “We prepped the stage yesterday at rehearsal and we’ll have another quick sound check before we go on, but the whole thing isn’t until late so I don’t have to be anywhere until about nine.”
My heart soared. Finally, someone had seen sense.
“Resting. Good idea,” I gushed, but pulled back immediately.
Don’t overdo it.
“Would you like to…” I didn’t finish my sentence. I really wanted to offer him a bed here, where I could keep an eye on him and make sure he actually did rest. But would that be too forward?
“What are your plans?” Dan cut into my thoughts.
Think, Sophie, think
. “Um… We don’t really have any plans,” I bumbled.
Nicely done.
“I was thinking of taking the kids to the park and…uh…” I flailed, unsure how to proceed. Was Dan more likely to stick around if I said we were out? Or would he simply take himself off if we weren’t in? Or the other way round?
Dan looked at me, his tired eyes dancing with unnaturally intense merriment. It was like I was witnessing a supernova right there in my kitchen, but the implications were disturbing. What would happen when he burned out?
“Cinema,” I suddenly burst out. “Perhaps we’ll go to the cinema. Would you like to come?”
Genius plan. If I get VIP seats for all of us at the back, he can kip without losing face
and I’ll know he’s safe
.
Dan gave an almighty yawn. “Cinema sounds great, and I’d love to, but…” He had to stop talking while he waited out another monster yawn. “D’you know, I would love to grab some sleep. I—” Yet another yawn incapacitated him, but inwardly I was dancing.
Sense at last
.
“Upstairs?” I suggested, sensing impending collapse.
“Upstairs would be lovely,” Dan agreed, swaying with exhaustion. “Only I haven’t got my stuff for tonight…” His eyes were half-closed already. As I had done at his house, I wiggled my head under his armpit, draping his arm across my shoulder, and helped him stand up.
“I’ll get your stuff from your house,” I offered. “I’ll get a selection of things. I’ve seen you launch often enough. I’ll find something. Trust me.”
“With my life,” Dan muttered, very nearly asleep. How could anyone go from manically hyper to crippling fatigue within seconds? It was like a switch had been thrown and the electricity had been shut off. Alarm bells were ringing somewhere deep in my brain, and I resolved to look into this kind of erratic behavior, even if I just Googled it. Tomorrow. I would look into it tomorrow, when I had the time, when this day was done with, but before I would broach the subject of sleep, work and play with him.
“Come on,” I cajoled. “Up we go.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I spent the afternoon in a blur of worry, despite all the entertainment I laid on for the kids. The local cinema was running a series of special screenings of Disney films, and today’s offering was
Finding Nemo
. The kids were mesmerized, clutching my hands excitedly while I let my mind wander. Afterwards, we swung by Dan’s house to collect a variety of outfits for his big night. I picked his favorite leathers, trademark silky blue shirt, and cowboy boots. To be on the safe side, I also added a couple pairs of jeans, four alternative shirts, and two extra pairs of boots. Dan rarely wore jewelry, but I took a few rock star accoutrements anyway, just in case. Having deposited my loot in a handy hold-all, we piled back in the car and drove home to see how our Rock God was faring, the kids singing “Beyond the Sea” the entire way.
Our Rock God was faring well, or so it appeared. The sounds of singing and splashing water greeted us when we entered the house. Dan was evidently up and in the shower, and in high spirits at that. I delivered his clothes to the spare bedroom and loitered outside the bathroom. Should I go in and tell him we were back? Or should I wait until he came out?
This situation hadn’t presented itself before. In the dim and distant past, when mutual bathroom episodes featured in our lives, it had always been only us. In the more recent past, Dan had always been discreet about showering, and he had never hogged the family bathroom before. But I couldn’t simply barge in. For one, the kids would probably follow right on my heels, which might prove a tad overwhelming. And for another…I just wasn’t sure whether I could trust myself.
So I loitered and bit my nails and eventually settled on knocking on the door and announcing our presence. The singing stopped, as did the splashing. “We’re back,” I repeated, lest he hadn’t heard the first time.
“Brilliant,” he shouted back. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.” His voice was steady and strong, and he sounded cheerful. I prayed he had slept and rested and had turned some kind of corner.
He came downstairs a few minutes later, wrapped in my dressing gown—which was, of course, a little on the short side, quite apart from being pink—with wet hair and sparkly eyes.
“I feel good,” he remarked, sounding quite surprised. “That was just what was needed.”
“Sleep always helps,” I retorted. “You should try it more often.”
The barb passed Dan by as he settled on the sofa to watch telly with the kids, struggling to safeguard his modesty in my too-short dressing gown. I threw him a blanket and he accepted, spreading it across his legs and snuggling down. My fingers were itching for the camera to document this extraordinary scene. Nobody, but nobody, would have recognized Dan Hunter in this display of familial coziness. I didn’t, of course. I fixed dinner instead.
Dan got dressed before dinner, selecting a pair of jeans and a dark shirt from amongst the clothes I had brought.
“Thank you,” he said, putting his arms around my waist and planting the briefest of kisses on my cheeks. “You are a star.”
I smiled, and the kids giggled at our half-serious display of affection. The oven timer broke the mood, announcing dinner was ready. Dan let me go and made a show of sniffing the air. “What’s that gorgeous smell?”
“Chili,” I announced proudly. I adored making chili con carne with my secret recipe. In deference to the kids’ taste buds, it wasn’t terribly hot, but it was tasty and juicy, especially if served with lashings of melted cheese. “Would you like to join us?”
Assume nothing, hope for the best
. I kept my tone light and my face neutral, suddenly aware that I was treating Dan like a gazelle who was liable to shy away and take off at the slightest scare.
“I’d love to,” he agreed.
Dinner passed quickly, time running through my fingers like sand, and all too soon, Dan announced he would have to get ready to leave. He went upstairs, singing one of his new songs, and returned a half hour later in his leathers and the silky blue shirt, top buttons undone, as always.
My heart jumped into my throat as I took in his appearance. Oh my, he was a gorgeous man. Always had been, always would be. My nose caught a waft of his aftershave, and I held onto the kitchen counter to stay upright while my legs threatened to buckle in a momentary swoon. I could feel a slow blush start on my cheeks and work its way down my neck. What on earth was going on? I was behaving like the star-struck teenager I had once been. Why was it, after all this time, after everything that had happened between us, everything we had been through together, my wedding, Steve’s death—how come after all this time, I suddenly got a dizzy spell again just because Dan put on the full rock-star act?
The kids were in awe. They had never seen Dan in his full glory, not face-to-face, and they danced around him as though he was a god descended from heaven.
“You look like someone on telly,” Josh announced. “You look like a rock star.”
Dan shot me an amused glance as he bent down to speak to Josh. “That’s because I am a rock star,” he said and burst out laughing. “D’you know,” he addressed me as he straightened up, “I don’t think I’ve
ever
said that to anyone like this before. ‘That’s because I am a rock star’” he mimicked himself, laughing again.
I stepped across and ruffled Josh’s hair. “Sweetie, you know what Dan does. You’ve seen the albums and the photos, you’ve heard the music?” It was a question more than a statement.
“I know,” Josh explained himself, jiggling up and down impatiently. “I know all that. But this is really real!” He raced off around the room like an airplane. “I can’t wait to tell everyone at school that a real rock star has been to my house!” And he flew upstairs, Emily in his wake.
Dan perched himself on the side of the sofa. “What was that all about?” he reflected, somewhat dumbstruck.
“I don’t really know,” I confessed. “But kids are like that. Your albums and your photos, that’s all a bit abstract for them, I suppose. But seeing you like someone they might recognize on the telly, that makes it real. As absurd as that actually is.”
Dan shook his head. “Well, at least I can still wow the next generation,” he chuckled.
“You certainly can,” I agreed. “And the current one, too.”
Dan looked up. “Is that so?” he teased, his voice gentle and low. His blue eyes, no longer bloodshot or red-rimmed, brimmed with mischievous excitement.
“Is that so,” he murmured again, leaning in to nibble at my ear. His breath was warm against my neck, and for one short second, I nearly forgot once again who I was or where I was.
Only nearly, though, for the heavy clatter of feet on the stairs announced that airplane Josh and entourage Emily were on the return journey, and Dan and I shrank apart hastily. The smile remained in Dan’s eyes and he poked my side playfully.
“We’re gonna talk about this later, young lady,” he threatened.
“Maybe.” I fiddled with the sleeve of my jumper and tried my best to backpedal from the moment.
Dan arched his eyebrows, but said nothing more. He wouldn’t have been able to anyway as the kids now buzzed around us with noisy laughter. Josh had retrieved his kiddy camera and was asking to take pictures, and Dan preened obligingly. Emily looked on adoringly. Dan really was wowing the next generation.
He left at eight-thirty after helping put the children to bed. There was a hint of reluctance in his eyes as he shrugged on his leather jacket. “Wish you could come,” he said.
“Me, too,” I confessed, but made light of my inexplicable disappointment. “Maybe next time, right?”
“Definitely,” Dan said. He leaned in and kissed me on the mouth, surprising us both. For a moment, I savored the feel of his lips on mine. The heady scent of his aftershave mixed with that of his masculinity filled my universe and dulled any rational response. My body responded to his affection with a hot flush starting on my cheeks and racing down to my toes. My heart beat wildly and I enjoyed the adrenaline rush. Pressing myself against Dan eagerly, I raked my hands through his hair.
What are you doing, Sophie?
a small part of my brain wondered somewhat belatedly, but I ignored it and kissed on. Dan wrapped his arms around me, and the very heat radiating from his body made my knees weaken. This man was hot with desire.
We remained locked in this embrace until we needed to come up for air. Confused despite my arousal, I took a step backwards and broke free of Dan’s arms. He was panting heavily, taking ragged, shuddering breaths. His face was flushed, and his eyes had a feverish glitter to them.
My God, maybe Rachel is right,
I suddenly thought.
Maybe he does still want me. I certainly seem to be having an effect on him!
I smiled softly to myself.
“You are quite something,” I whispered. “But I think it’s time you went.” With the intention of planting a chaste farewell kiss on his brow, I cupped his face in my hands tenderly. Yet feeling the dry, intense heat in his cheeks projected me abruptly into concerned mummy-mode. I touched his forehead, and the back of his neck. Hot, too hot.
“I think you have a fever,” I declared. “Let me get a thermometer. Maybe…maybe you shouldn’t go tonight?”
Dan shook off my worry with levity. “If I have a fever, it’s because you’re burning me up inside,” he joked, half-quoting a line from one of his songs. “But seriously, I’m fine. And I really ought to go.” His face flickered with regret and anticipation. “It’s weird, being with you,” he suddenly remarked. “It’s changing everything.”
Before I could begin to compute the implications of what he had just said, he roused himself and rushed to the door. “I’ll be off, or I’ll never make it,” he threw over his shoulders.
“Have a great time,” I shouted after him, but I didn’t think he heard me.