Authors: Lexxie Couper
“Any music trivia, or just about Nick Blackthorne?”
His question, low and barely audible over the bar’s growing evening crowd made Pepper start. Or maybe it was the way his warm breath tickled her cheek. If she turned her head to the side a fraction, would their lips brush?
Do it. Do it!
She straightened, smoothing her free hand over the top of her thigh. Her answer caught in her throat.
Noah smiled up at her, a promise in his glacier-blue eyes she couldn’t decipher.
No, that was wrong. She
could
decipher it. Desire. Open, curious desire. His eyes told her exactly what their kiss would be like if she lost.
Goddamn, she’d never wanted to fail at anything
more
than she did this trivia challenge.
Pulling on every fibre of courage in her being, she licked her top lip, letting Noah hold her motionless with his gaze. “Any.”
He grinned. “Any it is.”
She hurried away from his table before she chickened out. Or begged him to just kiss her there and then.
Fifteen minutes later, her shift finished.
“He’s still out there.”
Pepper started at her boss’s gruff grumble in the staff locker room. She paused halfway through undoing her apron and gave the short man a sideways glance. “Who?”
“Noah Holden. Everyone’s talking about it. Jeannie overheard him say his woman left him. Now he’s sitting waiting for you. Hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you gave him that last scotch.” Rupert Redman let out a wry chuckle. “That’s coming out of your tips, by the way.”
Pepper’s cheeks filled with warmth. She removed her apron, withdrew her tote from her locker and stuffed the black rectangle of material into it.
“I know you’re not my top waitress here, Kerrigan, but I like you enough to tell you to be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt by a famous dick.”
Pepper raised her eyebrows.
Her boss shrugged. “Haven’t got anyone to replace you if you call in sick tomorrow broken-hearted, is all.”
He strode out of the room, leaving Pepper alone. She closed her locker, pressed her palm to its cool surface and drew a slow breath.
Was she really going to do this? Go out there and challenge one of the most renowned rock drummers to a music-trivia contest? Was she going to win?
Did she care if she lost?
Yes, she did. She
wanted
to sing. She loved singing. Had done so since she was a little girl. And she
could
sing. It wasn’t just her father who told her so. Years of lessons had developed Pepper’s voice until her singing teacher had described it as sublimely exquisite. The only problem had been singing in front of strangers, a crowd. That was something Pepper could never do. No matter how much she wanted to.
But she would
make
herself do it. She had to. She would win this trivia contest and show the world her mother wasn’t right. She would prove to
herself
her mother wasn’t right. She wasn’t a failure. Sure, she was taking the most dramatic route possible—wrangling an audition with one of the biggest bands on the planet wasn’t exactly normal—but if she had learnt one thing from her mother, it was to grab opportunity when presented. Her mother sure as hell had, leaving her family for the millionaire plastic surgeon who gave her double Ds. Tonight, Pepper was going to do the same.
Noah Holden was opportunity. Pepper Kerrigan was going to grab him.
It.
She scrunched her eyes closed at the thought of grabbing the drummer. “Singing, Pepper,” she muttered, pressing her forehead against the cool metal of her locker. “Singing. Not kissing. Not flirting. Not…”
Swallowing back the word
fucking
, she straightened, hoisted her tote onto her shoulder and hurried out into the bar.
The crowd had grown rowdier in her absence. At the table next to Noah’s sat four women, all dressed in very little, all making what Pepper’s dad called goo-goo eyes at the waiting rock star.
Pepper’s heart thumped fast into her throat. Her lips began to prickle. She crossed to the table, her throat tight.
Waiting.
He was waiting for her. Holy crap, Noah Holden was waiting for her.
“I’m finished my scotch.” He grinned up at her when she reached his side, his empty glass raised. “And have been googling music trivia.”
Despite the nerves gnawing at her belly, Pepper couldn’t help but smile. “Cramming for an exam?”
He laughed. “You better believe it. I aim to be kissed.”
Heat flooded Pepper’s cheeks. She swallowed. “And I aim to sing.” Before he could respond, before Pepper could question her incongruous courage, she lowered herself onto the seat she’d occupied earlier.
Noah watched her. She wished his gaze wasn’t so intense. So…on her.
No, that was a lie. Him looking at her made her feel…alive. And—strangely—confident. Now all she needed was for him to
hear
her.
To do that, she had to beat him.
“Want a drink?”
She shook her head at his question. Damn, his Australian accent was delicious.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Can I get you
anything
?”
Behind Pepper, one of the women at the next table told her companions in a loud voice she’d take whatever Noah Holden wanted to give her.
Whatever
.
Noah chuckled. But his gaze stayed in Pepper. Never wavered.
She caught her bottom lip with her teeth and studied him back. Was she brave enough to ask the first question?
Was she brave enough to do what she was doing—period?
You’re not. Go now. Before you make a fool of yourself and everyone laughs at—
“What famous author,” she burst out, her cheeks hot, “named Pink Floyd’s 1994 album,
Division Bell
?”
The question hung on the air between them. Noah’s lips twitched. He swirled his empty glass around once, his blue gaze holding her motionless. “Douglas Adams.”
His deep voice, with its sexy accent, supplying the correct answer sent a wicked tingle up Pepper’s spine. Her nipples pinched into hard points.
He leant forward. “What was Nick Blackthorne’s first album?”
Pepper let out a snort. “Too easy.
Blackthorne
.” She reached for a peanut and shelled it. A warm buzz bloomed in her belly, just like it always had when she’d talked music with her dad. “What was the first video to appear on MTV?”
A frown pulled at Noah’s eyebrows. “Here in the U.S.?”
Pepper nodded. Her heart hammered. Could it be this easy?
Noah leant back in his seat and threaded his fingers behind his head. “That would be ‘Video Killed The Radio Star’ by the Buggles. What was the second song?”
“Pat Benatar’s ‘You Better Run’.” She smirked, remembering the way her father ranted about the cable channel every time either song aired on the radio when she was growing up.
“MTV used to be about music, chickpea
,
”
he’d say.
“Music. Now it’s about morons doing moronic things. Video didn’t just kill the radio star, it damn near killed talent. You better run? You better cry, more like it.”
Noah pulled a face. “You know your stuff.”
She grinned and hooked another peanut from the bowl between them. “I’m just getting warmed up. Who started their music career as Tom and Jerry?”
“Hello darkness…” Noah sang, his eyes smiling. The deep timbre of his voice, combined with its perfect pitch, stole Pepper’s breath. Noah rarely sang on any of Nick Blackthorne’s albums. Pepper had to wonder why. God, his voice was incredible. She shifted on her seat, the throb between her thighs warm and heavy.
Noah wriggled his fingers above his head. “Simon and Garfunkel. ‘Sound of Silence’ was the first song Mum asked me to learn to play. I think there may have been some kind of message she was trying to get across.”
Pepper chuckled and then blinked when he asked, “First song you made out to?”
Her stomach knotted. She turned aside. “I…I don’t think…”
“Just kidding.” Consternation cut through the two words. “Sorry. I’ll ask an easier one. First Nick Blackthorne Number One in Japan.”
“Too easy. ‘Glass Houses’.” Damn, why was her heart beating so fast? “Who was the session guitar player for Tom Jones’s ‘It’s Not Unusual’?”
“Jimmy Page.” He lowered his arms and crossed them on the table, his eyes twinkling. “You ask some seriously obscure questions. I like it.”
Pepper raised her shoulders in a shrug. “My head is full of obscure trivia. There’s a reason I didn’t challenge you to a game of darts.”
Noah’s chuckle tickled her senses. “I suck at darts. Last time I played I pierced Strings in the head.”
“Strings?”
“Samuel.” He grinned. “There’s some more obscure trivia for you. Nick Blackthorne’s band call their lead guitarist Strings.”
Pepper smiled. “Consider it locked in my brain forever.”
He snatched a peanut from the bowl. “You’re really that good at trivia?”
“Music trivia.” She plucked the peanut from his fingers, shelled it and popped it into her mouth. “I suck at sports trivia. Ask me another question.”
He settled back in his seat. “Okay then. Who was bowling when Australia defeated England in the 1945 Ashes test?”
Pepper stared at him. “The what?”
He chuckled. “Kidding. What was the second-last song on Nick’s second-last album?”
“The second-last song on Nick’s second-last album was ‘Burnt’.” Pepper smiled. “Written by you. The only song you’ve ever recorded.”
Noah’s eyebrows shot up. “How do you know all this stuff? Are you cheating?”
Pepper laughed. “No. Two-part question for you. Ready?”
He nodded, his gaze holding hers. “Shoot.”
“Dr. Hook sang about being on the cover of what magazine?”
“
Rolling Stone
.”
“Correct. Were they ever featured on the cover?”
He frowned, his eyes swinging upward to the right. “Umm…”
Pepper fought the urge to shift on her seat. Did she have him beat? It was one of her favourite trivia questions, mainly because it always made her think of her dad. He’d been writing an article about the cover of the famous magazine, the performers who appeared on it and—in Paul Kerrigan’s opinion—the artists who
should
have graced it, when he’d suffered the heart attack that killed him. Pepper had spent the next three months reading every article he’d written for the magazine. Her way of saying goodbye to the man who’d always believed in her, even when her mother hadn’t.
Sitting here now, with one of the greatest drummers in the world opposite her—a song or a kiss on the line—she couldn’t help but wish she hadn’t asked it.
Because the longer she spent in Noah Holden’s company, the more she thought the idea of kissing him was pretty damn good. The more she wanted to feel his lips on hers. “Well?” she prodded. Her voice was husky. Why was it husky?
Noah didn’t answer. His eyebrows dipped deeper into a frown. “On the cover…” he sang, a murmured dream of pitch, timbre and rhythm. Christ, Pepper could have an orgasm just listening to him sing. Why didn’t he do it more often?
She opened her mouth to ask him that very thing, and stopped when he said, “No.”
For a moment, she was adrift. What was he saying no to? And then she remembered she’d asked him about Dr. Hook and
Rolling Stone
magazine. Her belly twisted. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”
He grinned. “Yeah, sorry. Another request from my mum, I’m afraid. She loved Dr. Hook.” He shelled a peanut and passed it to her. “But I must admit, if it wasn’t for that, you would have had me. Any chance you’ll kiss me anyways? Even if you beat me?”
Pepper drew a slow breath. She licked her lips, swallowing at the lump making itself at home in her throat. “Umm…no.”
Noah dipped into the peanut bowl again, his stare an intense question. “Who sang the un-credited backing vocals on ‘Gotta Run’?” he asked, holding out a shelled peanut for her again.
She took it. And bit back a gasp when their fingers brushed. Holy crap, was that a spark? Oh man, could her nipples get any harder? “Umm…” she said again. Her belly didn’t just twist this time; it fluttered, knotted and generally behaved like a rabid butterfly.
She
didn’t
know who sang backing vocals on “Gotta Run”. Did she?
She stared into Noah’s eyes, dredging into the depths of her music-trivia knowledge. She knew everything about every Nick Blackthorne album released. Her dad wasn’t responsible for that, she was. She’d fallen in love with the sound of Nick and his band the very first time she’d heard them, as a shy teenager with spots on her face and a dream her mother scoffed at. She knew everything. So why didn’t she know—
“Kylie Minogue,” she burst out, the answer coming to her in a blast of white light and platinum-blonde hair. “Kylie Minogue. She was in Australia when Nick recorded his vocals and he asked her to join him in the studio. There were rumours at the time they were sleeping together.”
She remembered her father’s response to
that
rumour. He was so excited by the idea of Blackthorne and Minogue together, possibly producing a child, he’d actually wrote a hypothetical birth announcement as a lark.