Authors: Lexxie Couper
“I tried to convince him he didn’t need to be here,” Noah said over his shoulder as he continued to walk toward the limo, “but he demanded I bring him. Said he had to see the look on your face firsthand when I dragged you out of work.”
Frank raised a cell phone—
her
cell phone, Pepper noticed—and took a photo. No doubt of Pepper’s incredulous expression. “And what a look it is,” he said with a smirk. “Priceless.”
Noah stopped at the limo and held out his arm toward the open back door. “The sneaky bastard snuck into the bar earlier and grabbed your bag. He’s gonna take it home with him. Today, I’m going to show you the life of a rock star, and rock stars don’t need things like handbags and purses and mundane stuff like that.”
Pepper swung her gaze to her roommate.
Frank wiggled his eyebrows as he tossed her cell phone to her. “Told you that first kiss said everything you needed to know.”
Noah laughed. “I shall return her sometime later this evening, Frank. Or maybe never. Depends if I can convince her to run away with me.”
Frank shot Pepper a sly smirk. “Don’t think you’ll need to do much persuading.”
Prickling heat crept over Pepper’s cheeks. “Frank,” she admonished on a mutter.
Frank snorted.
Noah tugged on her hand. “C’mon,” he said, directing her into the limo. “I can’t wait to hear you sing again.”
Unable to fight the surreal situation any longer, Pepper let out a shaky breath and, with a smile at Frank, climbed into the back seat.
She couldn’t tell Noah her doubts now. Not after he’d just bought Rupert’s bar.
When will you though?
Noah took his place beside her before she could contemplate an answer, his hand reclaiming hers with easy familiarity. With a wave at Frank, he nodded to the driver holding the door open. “Punch it, wookie.”
Pepper couldn’t help but laugh at the man’s confused expression.
“It means let’s get going,” Noah told him.
The driver nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The dull thud of the door closing vibrated through Pepper. She drew in a quick breath, the nervous butterflies previously running amuck in her belly returning with gusto.
She squirmed on the luxurious leather seat, her pulse pounding in her throat. She told herself it was because she was about to go sing with Nick Blackthorne’s band, but the reality of the situation was all the more daunting.
She was sitting alone in a limo with Noah Holden. A limo with the privacy glass already raised.
Her sex constricted. The memory of his hands and lips on her body the night before crashed over her. Her nipples pinched tight.
She caught her bottom lip with her teeth. If Noah turned to her now and proceeded to make love to her, she wouldn’t stop him. It didn’t matter how many times she told him she needed their relationship to be platonic. If he began to kiss her now, undress her now, she would beg for more. The man had come into her life and changed everything.
“Nervous?”
She started at his low question.
“Don’t be.” He dipped his head lower to hers. “As much as I want to press you to the seat and make mad monkey sex to you, I won’t.”
She gazed up at him, her breath shallow. “You won’t?”
His smile was devilish. “Not this trip. Can’t make any promises about future limo rides though.”
“In that case,” she murmured, “I best be travelling with Levi or Jax.”
He laughed, even as the desire in his eyes blazed hotter. “Oh, babe, Jax would be all over you like white on rice.”
Pepper swallowed, her heart in her ears. “He would?”
Noah nodded, drawing his face closer to hers. “I’d have to kill him after though. Do you know of any good keyboard players?”
She shook her head, the motion slow. “No.”
Noah’s warm breath tickled her lips. “So for the band’s sake, and Jax’s safety, I promise not make mad monkey love to you in
any
future limo rides. How’s that sound?”
“Terrible,” Pepper whispered.
Time froze. Her pussy throbbed. They gazed at each other, their breaths mingling.
And then, just when Pepper couldn’t survive a second longer on the edge of such tormenting need, Noah pulled away.
Nostrils flaring, he settled back in his seat, repositioning her hand—still in his—on his right thigh. “So,” he said, his voice a strained growl, “tell me something about you I don’t know.”
Pepper’s chest ached. As did her body. Every fibre in her being craved his touch, and yet he’d given her exactly what she kept asking for. God, how could she be so goddamn disappointed when he was only doing what she asked?
Letting out a wobbly laugh, she shifted on her seat. She could do this. She had to do this. Even if she wanted to tell Noah to hell with her previous request for a platonic relationship. “I used to manage a grunge-rock band called Black Toad Dare.”
The muscle in Noah’s jaw bunched. His grip on her hand tightened for a brief second. And then he gave her a curious expression. “Is that right?”
Pepper frowned. There was no mistaking the tension in his body. What had she said? “Do you know of them?”
He nodded. “They were making a real name for themselves a few years ago. And then they seemed to drop off the planet.”
She couldn’t stop her frustrated sigh. “Yeah. They found someone better than me to manage them. From what I can see though, he took their money and flushed their rising popularity away.”
Noah didn’t answer. He studied her, his blue eyes steady on her face.
She squirmed. Something was not right.
“I really enjoyed working with them though,” she said. “Organising their gigs, arranging press releases for them. It was something I could do without needing to come face to face with people. Good for someone who is…well, you know…” She ducked her head, the dreaded S word bitter on her tongue. “Shy.”
“So you managed them, helped propel them up the indie charts, got them noticed by the right people, even got them a label contract and they dumped you?”
Disquiet licked at Pepper’s nerves. How did he know she’d landed Black Toad Dare their first recording contract? “That’s right.”
His fingers fluttered over the back of her hand. His stare never wavered from her face. “Who stole them away from you?”
“Ewan Burgess.”
The man’s name sent a hot shard of anger through Pepper.
Noah made an
ahhh
sound. “He’s a douche. He tried to lure us away from our manager a few years ago, just before Nick announced his retirement.”
Pepper shifted on her seat, trying to disengage her fingers from his. “Why do I feel like I’m telling you something you already know?”
His grin was wide, and yet it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Music trivia genius, remember?”
Pepper didn’t believe him. She regarded him, wanting to ask what was going on. Wanting, but unable. She found herself in a dream she’d never believed possible. She had no right to question it, or Noah.
Chicken.
Scowling at the silent mock, she attempted once again to slip her hand from Noah’s.
He refused to let her go.
Their eyes connected and Pepper’s throat seized shut at the torment in his gaze. “I…do you need to tell me something, Noah?”
The question left her on a quiet whisper.
He sucked in a slow breath, closing his eyes. “No,” he said, looking at her again. “Someone I know is playing with my head. That’s all. Fucking with me. I’m sorry.”
She caught her bottom lip with her teeth again. “Okay.”
They travelled in silence for a long moment. It wasn’t until Pepper felt Noah’s thumb beating out a soft rhythm on the back of her hand that she realized the earlier tension in his body had gone.
“What do you think about a drum solo during a slow-mo action sequence?” he asked, the relaxed grin she loved so much back on his face. “A wild beat, no other music, like hearts at war, while shit gets blown up, bullets flying, real Michael Bay kind of action?”
Pepper raised her eyebrows. “John Woo would be proud.”
He laughed and pulled her hand deeper into his lap. “
Face Off
meets Jason Bourne?”
She smiled. “Perfect.”
He pulled a smug expression. “I thought so too.”
A few minutes later, he twisted on his seat and studied her. “Our manager quit yesterday.”
Pepper didn’t hide her surprise. “Really? Wow. Why?”
“Said we were nothing without Nick and he couldn’t be bothered coming out of retirement for a bunch of has-beens. His words, not mine.”
Hot anger licked through Pepper. She pulled a contemptuous face. “Now there’s a real charmer for you.”
Noah laughed. “To be honest, none of us really liked him, but he was good…ish at keeping us under control back in the day.” A sheepish grimace pulled at his lips. “Sorta. Anyways, I was thinking, you know how Samuel wants us to perform live soon? To let you flex your wings?”
Pepper swallowed, nodding her head. Noah had told her a few days ago of the lead guitarist’s idea—a small, low-key performance somewhere in New York without any fanfare or publicity, just to get a feel for the vibe.
As if sensing her trepidation, Noah changed his grip on her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “It’s a good idea. Will give you a taste of performing to a crowd.”
She swallowed again. “I know.”
He smiled. “You’ll be amazing, but that’s not why I brought it up. I’m wondering what
you
would do if you were in charge of us?”
Pepper blinked. What
would
she do for a band comprising the world’s best drummer, a lead guitarist classified as a legend, a bass player who won Oscars on the side for his film scores and a keyboard player unrivaled by his peers? How would she sell
that
group, especially if they were fronted by an untested, unknown female singer? How would she even hope to manage them?
A familiar wave of excitement shot through her apprehension. Her brain began to conjure a list of things she’d do if she were their manager before she could rein it in.
“I’ve no fucking clue what a manager would do in this situation,” Noah went on, his grin self-deprecating. “Even when I was playing in after-school bands as a teenager, I just turned up when and where I was told to for a gig. I’m lucky if I know what day it is most of the time. Sam is furious about Daltry pissing off of course—hence the hangover—and we haven’t told Levi or Jax yet, but I was just curious what
you’d
do with us in our unusual situation.” His thumb tapped out a steady beat on the side of her hand, his gaze holding hers motionless. “What would you do if you were our manager?”
Pepper’s mind whirled again. She stared at him, her heart beating fast in her throat. “I’d start with the small intimate appearance at a popular bar,” she said, the words confident. Sure. “No announcement at all about the band members’ identities. I’d record the audience’s reaction as they realized who they were watching and release it on YouTube, Facebook and Twitter. Then the next day, I’d send out a press release.” She paused, the wording of the announcement already forming in her mind. “I’d send it out to every musical publication along with the mainstream press. I’d book you spots on all the late-night television programs—Conan, Letterman, Leno, as well as Saturday Night Live. I’d make sure you were featured in
Rolling Stone
, pulling every contact I have to land the cover. I’d avoid the word
comeback
and push the word
rebirth
. I’d arrange a coast-to-coast tour, starting in L.A. and ending in Central Park with one hundred free tickets to each concert in all major cities given away to radio stations that played your first single more than five times a day.”
She took a breath. The thrill of organizing something so amazing made her blood sing.
“I’d arrange a viral campaign of YouTube clips showing the band members prepping for a secret appearance and I’d lock you all in a hotel suite and wouldn’t let you out until you’d written at least three original songs.” She smiled at him. Her heart was beating five miles a minute. Damn, she was almost buzzing with the hypothetical possibilities. It was such a rush, one she remembered with longing. “How’s that sound?”
Noah whistled again. “Absolutely perfect. Incredible. If it wasn’t for the fact you are going to be a part of the band, I’d ask you to replace Daltry here and now.”
She studied him, chewing on her bottom lip, and then raised her phone from her lap and dialed a number she hadn’t called for quite a while. “Henry?” she said, when a smooth male voice purred hello into her ear after the third ring. “It’s Pepper Kerrigan. I have an incredible band you
will
want playing in your joint ASAP. Rock so raw and carnal it’ll make you simultaneously weep and climax.”
She grinned at Noah’s stunned expression.
In her ear, the owner of the small Upper West Side establishment she’d launched Black Toad Dare’s career in laughed. “Say no more, Baby K. Fate is being kind to us both. I’ve just had a group cancel on me this morning. How’s this Friday? Nine p.m.?”
Triumphant excitement blossomed in Pepper’s stomach, a second before abject terror destroyed it. Oh God, so soon?