You got to Me (Love on Tour #3) (8 page)

“Whatever,” he said, gazing at his plate. “I told you, I’m not into girls that only want me because of my brother. That chick doesn’t even know my real name.”

“How hypocritical.”

He looked up at me. “How’s that?”

“You wanted to go on this date with me,” I pointed out.

“I thought the crush was bunk?” He raised an eyebrow.

“It is, but you seem to believe it.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? I made an exception.”

“So, you don’t live in your brother’s shadow, but here you are out to dinner with a woman who looks like your brother’s wife.”

“You may have the same hair and the same eyes as Baby. But you don’t look like her. You’ve got your own thing going on.”

It was true. My face was much rounder than Dani’s, and I was built like my mom – short, soft, and curvy. Dani was built like my dad and Brad – lanky and boney.

“And your personalities are nothing alike, either,” Sam said.

I looked down at my plate. The fettuccini looked good. But I didn’t pick up my fork yet. “I’m listening.”

He cut up his steak. “Baby is sweet. She has a big open heart that she welcomes everyone into. She’s like a hug. You, on the other hand…”

“Am a cold bitch?” I suggested.

“No. But you have a great big wall built around you.”

“And why would you want to go out with someone like that?”

“Because, I am dying to know what’s on the other side.”

10

“You see, there’s a reason we don’t sit next to each other,” Hank griped. “We’re both enormous.”

“Enormous?” Sean asked.

“Okay, I’m big, you’re enormous. Can’t we just sit across from each other like we usually do?” he asked Ken.

Ken was standing up in the aisle of the bus, camera in hand. Sean, Hank, Sam, and I were in the booth.

“Sure. Just sit on the outside.”

“You need to sit the fuck down,” Tony called.

Ken plopped down next to Mike on the couch across the aisle.

“We gotta get up for a minute, Tony. Sean and I are fucking sardines in here.”

“Whatever,” Tony said.

Hank and Sean both stood up. I slid out and moved to the window. Sean sat down next to me, and Hank sat next to Sam.

“Better?” Ken asked.

“Yes,” Hank said, shuffling the cards.

“Okay, just pretend I’m not here,” Ken said.

“What should we play?” Hank asked.

“It’s so fucking late,” Sam complained. “Do we have to play cards?”

“Hey, it’s a long ass way to Minneapolis, we got all night. Let’s play some damn cards.”

I could hear the camera clicking away. I leaned back in the seat so that I was blocked by Sean.

Hank looked at me and grinned. “Trying to stay out of the picture, Lisa?”

“Hell yes.”

“I don’t know, I think you’d look a hell of lot better in it than me and Sean.”

“Agreed,” Sean said.

“Maybe the article should just have a picture of Bell and Baby looking cute as buttons, and one of you looking all hot and gorgeous. They can leave us out of it altogether.”

Hank must have realized that he’d finally flirted with me. He made a face as though he’d screwed up. I tried not to laugh at him.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Ken said. “She is hot.”

I looked past Sean at Ken. He smiled at me.

“I am still supposed to be ignoring him?” Sean asked Hank.

“I think so.”

“So, am I supposed to ignore the fact that he just hit on my sister-in-law?”

“I think so. But it might be hard to do if he keeps it up.”

Hank looked at Sean for a long moment, then laughed.

“God, what the hell is that?” Sam asked. “It’s like telepathy or something.”

“I know. They do that shit all the time,” Mike said. “Sean just looks at Hank and doesn’t say a word, and then Hank responds to him as if he did. It’s fucked up.”

“I just know what he’s thinking,” Hank said.

I decided we needed to change the subject. “How about we play that game Sean taught me… Euchre.”

“Fucking Michigan game,” Hank grumbled.

“Boy, you are a bear when Bell’s not around,” Sam observed.

“Okay fine. Sean and me, you and Lisa.”

“No way. You and Sean can’t be partners. You’ll use your little mind mojo to cheat,” Sam objected.

“Whatever. Lisa, it’s me and you, girl,” Hank said, as he distributed the cards.

****

It was early, and I wasn’t ready for the light that was streaming through the bus windows. I had just come out of the bed in the back where I’d been napping. I walked to the kitchenette, delighted to find a full, fresh pot of coffee. Mike was sleeping on the couch across from me, and Hank and Sean looked like they had just woken up too. They were propped up in the booth, each with a steaming hot cup of joe in front of them. Ken was sitting on the couch across from them, playing with his phone. He looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

I moved to the booth and sat next to Sean. “How much further?”

“A few more hours,” he said. “We’ll get there by noon. Then I’m taking a long nap before the show.”

Sam was walking down the aisle, having just emerged from the bathroom. He stopped to get his own cup of coffee.

“Yeah, some jackass made us a grueling tour schedule,” Hank said, in Sam’s direction.

“Hey, you both said to keep the damn thing short. And someone doesn’t like to fly,” Sam retorted. “Besides, it wasn’t supposed to be an overnighter, but we had to hang in Denver for the reporter.”

Sam gave Ken a dirty look. But Ken was busy with his phone, and missed it.

“I’ve got some news guys,” Ken said. “The DNA’s done.”

“Already?” I asked.

“You’d be surprised what the press can accomplish. Yeah, and there’s a 99.8% chance that Sam is little Henry’s uncle.”

“Yeah, well, we all knew that already,” Hank said.

“Right. Fuck. Sometimes I hate this job.”

“Let me guess, your real passion is art photography,” Sam said, sitting down next to Hank.

“Yeah, black and whites,” Ken replied.

“How the fuck does he do that?” Hank asked Sean.

“Sam is very intuitive.”

“Like Ansel Adams?” Sam asked Ken.

“No, I do portraits. Think Dorthea Lange.”

“I love Dorthea Lange,” I told him.

“Yeah? Well there’s an exhibit of some of her work at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. I was planning to go this afternoon before the show. You wanna come with me?” Ken asked.

“I would love to.”

“Am I still supposed to be ignoring him, because now I think he just asked my sister-in-law out on a date?” Sean asked Hank.

“I don’t know, man. But that is definitely what just happened.”

I slapped Sean on the arm. “You didn’t care that I got roped into going to dinner with your brother last night.”

Sean shrugged. “Couldn’t. It was Baby’s doing.”

“And Baby always gets what she wants,” Hank said.

“You’re one to talk.”

“You’re right,” Mike said. “Baby and Bell both always get what they want. If they want to stop somewhere, we stop. And now we have Lisa. So if Lisa wants to go to the art museum, we go to the art museum.”

“There’s no
we
,” I retorted. “Ken and I are going to the art museum. You all are staying at the hotel.”

“Fuck,” Sean said softly.

****

“So what’s your story, Lisa?”

We’d been pretty quiet as we made our way through the museum. But now we were sitting at the café sipping on lattes. I loved that Ken liked lattes. I couldn’t think of any other man I knew that drank them. He even put caramel in his.

“Not much to tell. I’m a mild-mannered professor whose little sister married a rock star.”

“That must be strange.”

I shrugged. “You get used to it.”

“Have you ever been married?”

I had been of course, but I did not want to talk about it. “No,” I lied. “You?”

“Yep. I married my high school sweetheart.”

I looked for a ring on his hand, but there wasn’t one.

“We got divorced. It was messy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she left me for her dentist.”

“Her dentist?”

“Yep. You should see her teeth, they look amazing.”

I laughed. Then I recovered. “Sorry, it’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“You don’t look old enough to be married and divorced already,” I observed.

“I’m 26.”

“Jesus, you’re younger than my little brother!”

He shrugged. “So?”

“So, I’m way too old for you.”

“No way. You can’t be. You don’t look a day over 28.”

“Bless your heart,” I said. “But I’m almost four years older than Dani, and she just turned 31.”

“You can’t be 35.”

“Still 34, for now.”

“Well you look incredible.”

I smiled at him. “Maybe, but I’m still too old for you.”

“Don’t you know that older women are all the rage these days?” He gave me a cock-eyed smile.

****

Ken was standing next to me, his adorable dimples glimmering in the lights coming from the stage. Sean was performing. Hank was holed up somewhere talking to Bell on the phone, and Mike was in a conversation with Lance and his editor.

But Sam was here. He towered over us, looking sour and pissed off. I’d forgotten how tall he was. It was easy to do when I was hanging out with giants like Hank and Sean. But he was at least half a foot taller than Ken, who was not much more than my sister’s height.

I had to try to overlook this. My ex-husband had been short. And since him, I’d steered clear of short guys. I found myself attracted to tall, built men. Men like Sean, Hank, and even Sam. But I couldn’t think that way now. Ken was hot. Sam was not. That’s what I kept telling myself.

“Awesome show, Sean,” Ken said, as Sean walked off stage toward us.

Sean grunted. Then he picked me up and hugged me. My feet swung several inches from the ground. He was sweaty, but smelled kinda manly, instead of bad.

Sean put me down. “Sorry. I needed that.”

“Next stop, Chicago,” I reminded him. We’d be picking Dani, Henry, and Bell up at the airport tomorrow afternoon.

“Thank God,” Sean said.

He turned to Ken and looked him up and down. Ken looked like a freaking oompa loompa next to Sean. “How was the museum?”

“It was good. Really good.”

“When do you go back to L.A.?”

“In the morning. I leave for the airport around the same time you leave for Chicago.”

Sean grunted.

Ken looked nervous. I didn’t blame him.

“Hey,” I said to distract Sean. “You should call Dani and make sure she and Henry are ready for the flight tomorrow. We wouldn’t want her to forget his pacifier or something.”

Sean looked at me, then back at Ken for a second. “Okay. I’ll leave you two here – with Sam.”

I sighed. Between Sam and Sean, I was doomed when it came to getting any action.

Hank came out a few minutes later and also gathered me into a big hug.

“Jesus, what is this, hug the nearest woman day?”

Hank grinned at me. “You’re kind of fun to hug.” As if to demonstrate, he pulled me into another bear hug.

“Seriously?” I asked, when he put me down.

“Yeah, you’re little and cute.”

“Don’t try to substitute me for your girlfriend.”

He laughed. “I am in a bad way, Leese.”

I looked at him. And for a split second I saw him in different light. Maybe Hank really had changed his stripes when he fell for Bell?

Hank took the stage and we watched his set. He was, as always, amazing. Sean joined us for the last few songs. He stood there, looking as intimidating as Sam – actually, a lot more intimidating than Sam. So when Hank pulled Sean onto the stage for the encore, I escaped with Ken.

“Where are we going?”

“Anywhere other than here,” I said, pulling him along behind me.

Sean’s green room was out of the question. So was Hank’s. It was warm outside, so I pulled him out onto the loading dock. A security guard winked at us as we pushed through the door. It was dark out there. Which suited me just fine.

“This is nice,” Ken said quietly. He leaned toward me.

I went willingly into his arms. He was a better kisser than my ex. That was good. But I couldn’t help but think that he was nothing compared to Sam. I pushed that thought out of my mind, and wrapped my arms around Ken’s shoulders. It was nice. He didn’t have to lean way down, and I didn’t have to stretch up on my toes.

Ken spun me around and pushed me up against the side of the building. I liked it. Then I felt his hand under my shirt. It had been so long since I’d been touched like that. I reached my hand into his hair, but was disappointed. Instead of being soft, it was crusty, like he used too much hair gel.

We made out for what seemed like a very long time. Ken managed to get his hands inside my bra. Eventually, he reached into my pants. That’s when I pulled back.

“Hey, maybe we should wait on that,” I said.

“Sorry,” he breathed. “I guess we are on a loading dock.”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t help it. You are so hot.” He started kissing me again. A few minutes later his hand went right back down the front of my jeans.

“Seriously,” I said, pulling away. “We should slow down.”

“Oh Lisa, I can’t help it.” His hand moved lower.

I yanked it out of my pants. “Knock it off.”

“Hey, don’t get mad.”

“Then keep your hands out of my pants!”

“What the fuck!”

Of course this would happen.