He rolled to the side taking me with him. We were both panting and sweaty as our bodies stayed plastered against each other. No talking was needed or even possible. I was trying to catch my breath and come back to earth. Sex had never been so good. But then my experience was limited. Very limited. I couldn’t imagine it got better than this though.

  Cruz’s hand began to play with my hair casually. I turned my head to look at him, and his eyes were closed. I had always hated that he was so breathtakingly handsome. It made my feelings for him even harder to ignore. I would watch him and be disgusted with myself for doing it. The way he walked, carried himself, the sound of his voice, and that smile of his. All of it was impossible not to notice. All females noticed him.

  “Let’s go north. What about Memphis?” he said with his eyes closed.

  “Memphis? What’s in Memphis?” I asked enjoying the freedom to look at him.

  “Fucking Graceland is in Memphis,” he smirked then.

  “You mean you want to see where Elvis lived?” I laughed as I said it.

  He tilted his head to look at me and opened one eye. “Hell yeah, I do. That shit is supposed to be tacky. Who wants to miss that?”

  I didn’t care where we went. I was good with anywhere. “Okay. Memphis it is then.”

  “You called your parents?” His question surprised me.

  “No,” I admitted.

  “You better,” he sighed. “I’m sure they all know we are together now. Nate would have told them.”

  “Probably.”

  He ran a hand over his face and groaned. “Grant is going to kill me.”

  I didn’t respond. Because that was an issue we’d face when this was over. I was on an adventure to run away from the guy who was in bed with me. It was different now. I wasn’t trying to change or find a new me. I already had. The girl I was at this moment was nothing like the girl I had been the night he’d called me cold. Now, I just had to ride this as long as it lasted. Because it would end.

  “My dad may kill me before your dad. Either way, my life will be short.”

  That made me smile. “That’s a little dramatic,” I told him.

  He shrugged. “Honestly, it’s worth it.” His hand ran down my side and squeezed my hip. “Completely fucking worth it.”

  That wasn’t a proclamation of love. I realized that. But it was sweet. I slid a leg over him as I turned until half my body was lying on top of his. Both his eyes opened as I did it. “We’re grown,” I reminded him. “I think you’ll get to live.”

  He gazed up at me with hooded eyes. “Or you’ll kill me before they do. But then death by sex sounds like a good way to go.”

  I laughed. “I’m just getting up. Not about to attack you.”

  His hands grabbed my bottom and pulled me on top of him. “Maybe, but putting this hot little body on a man while he’s naked and in bed is irresistible.”

  When he slid into me slowly this time, I moaned loudly and enjoyed being filled one more time before breakfast.

  Cruz Kerrington

  DRIVING ALMOST SIX hours to Memphis today wasn’t a good idea. I saw Lila Kate hide a wince when she straddled the bike. We’d fucked like maniacs, and now she was tender. She would claim she wasn’t, but I saw it on her face. I shouldn’t have pushed for two rounds this morning, but she felt so damn good. It was a clawing need to get inside her again and fuck that—I didn’t like wanting someone so badly. Past experience told me a good fuck got a girl out of my system and I moved on. But with Lila Kate that had yet to happen. With her legs tucked behind mine and her body pressed into my back I was already thinking about fucking her again. Jesus, she was like crack to an addict.

  I headed toward Birmingham, Alabama. We could stop halfway and rest. Find something to see or do, and then ride the rest of the way. It was just an hour closer than Memphis; she could visit her friend, and it would help control my need to have my dick inside her our entire stop. I needed to find some control.

  After eighty minutes on the road she began to squirm, and I found an exit that had restaurant choices and some shopping. We’d spend time here then head on later when she was ready. Pulling into a parking lot for a barbecue place, I parked and held out my hand to help her off the bike. She made a small wince again.

  “Think we might need to stop for the day,” I said feeling guilty for her discomfort.

  She frowned. “Why?”

  I appreciated her trying to be tough, but I had made her sore, and I wasn’t going to make her suffer for it. First time I’d ever wished I wasn’t riding my damn bike. “You’re sore,” I pointed out the obvious. “Let’s eat, walk around some. Shop. See how you feel later.”

  “I will be fine,” she argued.

  I ignored that. “Hungry?”

  “Yes, and this place smells great.”

  We headed inside and I forced myself not to put my hands on her. Touching her all the time was not good. This was temporary. No need acting like it was more than that. We were both enjoying the trip.

  Her phone began ringing just before we walked in the door and she stopped to pull it out of her pocket. When she lifted her eyes to me, they were apologetic as she put the phone to her ear. “Hey, Mom.”

  I’d told her to call her parents more than once. She hadn’t listened.

  Her mother was talking, and Lila Kate’s face went pale before she whispered. “Oh, no. When?”

  Now I was worried. She began chewing on her thumbnail. “Yes, he is.”

  “I’m not sure,” she looked back at me. “Where are we?”

  “About one hour south of Montgomery, Alabama,” I told her.

  She repeated that to her mother. “No . . . on his motorcycle,” I could see her cringe as she said it.

  “Yes. We will drive there now,” she said. “I’ll see you later. And Mom, I’m so sorry.”

  “I love you, too.”

  When she ended the call, tears filled her eyes. “My grandmother passed away in the middle of the night. Mom’s sending my grandfather’s jet to pick me up in Montgomery. They’re already in California. My grandfather called Mom at three this morning to tell her. She and Dad got on a plane shortly after and left.”

  This was the last thing I expected for her to say. “God, Lila, I’m so sorry.”

  She nodded. “Me too. For my grandfather’s sake. She was never there you know. Her mind has been gone for so many years. It’s a miracle she lived so long. But Kiro has spent my entire life at her side. They stopped touring because he hated being away from her. Their whole story is just heartbreaking. My mom never got to know her. Her brain has been damaged since Mom was a baby.”

  I knew their story. It had made the headlines when it was revealed that Kiro Manning’s wife Emily was in fact still alive. The world had thought she’d died in that accident. But he’d kept her safe from the media. They had even made a movie called “Kiro’s Emily” about ten years ago that had been a box office hit. Kiro hadn’t didn’t want the movie made at first, but the interview he did for Rolling Stones magazine said that he had changed his mind. He wanted the world to know his Emily. What she had been like. How amazing she was. She deserved it.

  I walked Lila back to my bike and helped her on. I put the helmet on her head and wished there was more I could do. Anything else. Something to help. I dreaded putting her on that jet and watching her leave me. Our time was ending sooner than I had expected.

  She held onto me tighter than before. My throat felt thick. There was fucking emotion there I didn’t understand. That I didn’t want. This had been a way to protect her, get her out of my system, and move on. For both of us. But one night wasn’t enough. I was selfish. Her grandmother had just passed away. But dammit this sucked.

  The ride to Montgomery airport was too fast. Our time together was ending. This small bubble we had was about to burst. I’d head back home and face the heat with Dad. Do what the hell I was supposed to. She’d return, and it would be like before. We weren’t going to pick up where we left off. That would make this more than a fling. That would make the motherfucking lump in my throat mean something.

  Hurting Lila Kate was inevitable for me. If I did it later, it would hurt more. Sooner was best. Sooner would help us both move on. I’d never be the guy she needed. But damn if I’d expected it to hurt me too.

  We had pulled into the airport before the private jet had arrived. I wanted to say something that made this all easier. That made the ache in my chest go away. That made that sad look in her eyes disappear. But I had nothing.

  She climbed off the bike, and I got her things from the saddlebag. Then I turned to her. “Wasn’t expecting our journey to end so soon,” I said trying to smile.

  “Me neither.”

  I could see the question there. The uncertainty. She wanted to know if this was it for us. But she wouldn’t ask. And I couldn’t say the words. Even if I needed to, I couldn’t.

  “Tell your parents and grandfather I’m sorry for their loss.” Her eyes lost their light. She had wanted me to say more than a simple generic condolence. I felt like a giant asshole.

  “Thanks,” she whispered. “For everything.” Then she took her bag and walked away. I watched her leave. I wanted to run after her and say something more. To try to make her smile. But that would only make this worse. Instead, I waited until she entered the building. Then I climbed on my bike and headed back south. Back to Rosemary Beach.

  Lila Kate

  I WAS NUMB. The flight to LA and the ride to my grandfather’s house in Beverly Hills had all been a blur. When the limo that had picked me up at the airport parked in front of his mansion, I realized I didn’t even remember getting in the limo.

  I grabbed the single bag I had with me and stepped out when the driver opened my car door. I hadn’t been to see Kiro in about six months. He’d visited us, but I hadn’t been here. When I was a kid I visited more often. I stayed a week with him in the summer. I had good memories of this place.

  My mother came to the front door and walked out to greet me. I climbed the stairs and hoped she wasn’t too upset over my riding around on a motorcycle with Cruz. She had her dad to be worried about. I didn’t need to add to her stress. I knew I’d never get on Cruz’s bike again.

  He’d just let me go. No promises. Nothing. He’d just let it end. That quickly. My chest ached, and I felt guilty it was over a guy. My grandfather was suffering. I should be more concerned about him.

  “How is he?” I asked as I hugged her.

  She squeezed me. “He’s sad. Mom has been gone for a long time. The woman he knew. But now even the little that he had of her is gone. It’s going to be tough on him.”

  “Was she sick?”

  “No. Her heart just stopped. With the damage her brain had endured, the doctor says it’s a miracle she lived as long as she did. But Daddy made sure she had the best care. And he was always here. I think she lived for him.”

  Their story was so tragic. When I stepped back, I looked at her. “How upset is Dad?”

  “About Cruz?”

  I nodded.

  “He’s not happy,” she said with a small shrug. “But you’re a grown woman. What can he do? It was your decision to make.”

  I agreed, but I didn’t think Daddy would agree.

  “He won’t bring it up in there. For now, this is about Kiro and Emily.”

  “Who all is here?”

  “Right now, it’s just Dean and us. Nan, Cope, Mase, Reese, Rush and Blaire are all on their way.”

  Mom looked at the backpack on my shoulder. “What happened to your luggage?”

  “I left it all at Nate’s.”

  She sighed. “To run off on Cruz Kerrington’s bike.”

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t say more. I hadn’t even been gone a week, and everything that had happened made it seem like it had been so much longer.

  “Can I say one thing?” Mom asked.

  “Of course.”

  She reached out and touched my cheek. “You are kind, loving, generous, patient, and beautiful. You deserve something special.”

  “Mom, you got a fairytale. Not everyone finds those.”

  She titled her head to the side and smiled. “No, Lila Kate. Not everyone is patient enough to wait for it.”

  She kissed my cheek then took my arm, and we walked up the stairs and into the house. I would ponder what she said later. Maybe she was right. Maybe it wasn’t that I wouldn’t get a fairytale. Just that I had wanted it from the wrong person.

  The house smelled like cigars. It had all my life. I’d heard Rush once say it was better than the marijuana smell it had in his youth. We walked through the large entrance down the left hall where what Kiro called the game room was located. Large black leather sofas, massive flat screens—as in three of them—a pool table and a large bar were in the room. Sitting on the corner of the sofa was my grandfather, Kiro Manning. He was older now, but he was still a legend. His name was well known. He had a cigar in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. His slender frame was tall, and he was covered in tattoos. Even retired and a grandfather he still resembled a rocker.

  He lifted his red-rimmed eyes as we entered and smiled at the sight of me. He’d been crying at some point. “My Lila Kate,” he said his voice raspy from years of drugs, smoking and alcohol.

  “Hey,” I said as I made my way over to him. It was no secret he’d been furious when my father got my mother pregnant. My mother wasn’t his only child but she was his favorite. Because she had been the child Emily gave him. My birth could have killed my mother. That had terrified him. But my mom often said he’d spent my lifetime making that up to me. I knew he loved me more than his other grandchildren. He was very blunt about it. But I also knew it was only because I was a part of Emily.

  He held open his arms still holding the alcohol and cigar. I bent down and hugged him tightly. “I love you,” I whispered.

  “Not as much as I love you, pretty girl,” which had always been his response. “Heard you took off on a bike with a Kerrington. Guess you got a little of your Granddaddy’s wild oats in you after all.”

  I tensed hoping my dad hadn’t heard him. “Um, I guess,” I said as quietly as I could.

  That made him laugh. I was glad he could laugh but this wasn’t something to laugh about. “Gonna give that daddy of yours a little hard time. He needs it.”

  Of all the things for him to want to talk about this wasn’t one of them.

  “Daddy be nice. She’s already nervous about talking to Grant about all this,” Mom interjected.

  I closed my eyes and winced. When I stood up Kiro winked at me. “You’re grown girl. It’s okay.”

  I turned my head slowly to look at my dad who was standing at the bar with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face. “She’s better than Cruz Kerrington,” my dad said.

  “And my Harlow was better than Grant Carter. My sweet baby girl was swept off her feet by someone who had a reputation as a player. Seems it turned out all right,” Kiro said before taking a pull off his cigar.

  Dad only grunted.

  I tried thinking of something to change the subject when footsteps sounded down the hall. Then I heard the voices. Kiro’s other two kids were here with their spouses. I knew my Uncle Mase’s voice anywhere. And when he is arguing with my Aunt Nan it feels like a family gathering.

  “I’m not taking the blue room, Mase. Shove it up your ass. I want the gold one near the back elevator. I always prefer that one. Don’t argue with me,” Aunt Nan said in her high-pitched annoyed tone.

  “Give me another fucking bottle. I’m gonna need it,” Kiro grumbled.

  He and my Aunt Nan didn’t have the best relationship, but Mom said it was good compared to the way it had once been.

  When the four entered the room. Kiro held up his bottle. “I’m fucking mourning. Don’t start this shit in here.”

  Nan looked ashamed, and Mase nodded. “Sorry. I was just getting her riled up out of boredom.”

  Kiro lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Understood.”

  “I’m so sorry, Kiro,” Reese, my Uncle Mase’s wife said as she walked away from the others toward Kiro. “You go ahead and mourn, and I’ll keep these two in check.”

  “Still ain’t figured out how the fuck you scored that one,” Kiro said pointing with his bottle toward Reese while looking at Mase.

  “Me neither,” Mase replied then sank down on the sofa across from Kiro. “Pass the whiskey.”

  Cruz Kerrington

  THE SMELL OF flowers. I hated the overpowering smell as much as I hated funerals. They depressed me. I shouldn’t have to be here. I didn’t know Emily Manning. Sure, I knew Lila Kate but I wouldn’t expect her to come to my grandmother’s funeral. Hell, I wouldn’t go if I could get away with it. Once someone was dead it as done. Why have a big ass depressing funeral?

  I wanted my ashes taken out a few miles into the Gulf and scattered. No songs, no flowers, and no fucking tears. I loosened the collar on my shirt some and sighed. My dad had been adamant that I was going. We all were. The whole damn family was here. As was every other family in Rosemary Beach that we were close to.

  “We are going for Grant, Harlow and Lila Kate!” my dad had roared when I bitched about not seeing a reason to attend this funeral.

  The truth was, I had tried to get Lila out of my head for the past three days and it wasn’t working. All I could see was Lila. When I’d had another girl pressed up against the wall of my condo last night, I’d had Lila Kate’s face in my head. I didn’t want to see her this soon. I was still working her out of my system. I even pointed out to my father that they may be having a funeral for me once Grant Carter got his hands on me. Dad had told me I’d asked for it.

  “There’s Nate,” my mother whispered. “Go apologize.”

  “For what?” I asked confused. I hadn’t done shit to Nate.

  She grabbed my arm like I was still eight years old. “For taking Lila Kate without a word. That’s what for.”