This was going to be a test in more ways than one, I mused, listening to the low hum of voices and laughter coming from the kitchen. I took a quick peek in the mirror in the entry and patted down the wayward curls Ky had mussed in our epic make-out session in his truck in the IHOP parking lot. Just the thought of his fingers in my hair and his tongue colliding with mine was enough to make the blood flow south. I wasn’t sure if I was capable of acting casual around Ky. He said he didn’t care if anyone knew about us, but neither of us was ready to make an announcement. I might not do subtle well, but I could keep quiet for important things. I hoped.
Chester barked and ran circles between my legs when I entered the great room. I set the take-out containers on the island and raised my hands in the air in surrender.
“I fucked up and I’m sorry, but I brought pancakes.”
Tegan and Justin glanced at each other, Johnny gave me a thumbs-up, and Ky…he just smiled. And everything seemed okay again.
“What about hash browns?” he asked mischievously.
“Hash browns with pancakes? Gross.” I made a face and tried not to laugh when he waggled his brows.
“I smell bacon,” Justin said, popping open one of the containers. He handed a slice to Gray and took one for himself before moving toward me. “You’re forgiven.”
“Thanks.”
“But I’m really curious about Declan now. I know it’s not your job, but if you happen to find out what the fuck he’s up to, pass it along. He’s not a solo act. Not his style. It’s weird that he’d be signed before us when he’s clearly not ready. Something’s fishy.”
“We’ll go elsewhere,” I replied. “They aren’t the only game in town.”
“I know. But they showed their hand for a reason. They want us…or they want to play games with us. Gotta wonder what the motivation is, eh?” Justin dusted his hands on his jeans and raised his hand for a high five.
I tapped my hand against his. “I’ll dig around. In the meantime, we have Sony, Vin…”
The guys groaned in unison, someone’s cell blared “Eye of the Tiger,” and Chester started a new round of barking. The sudden blast of noise signaled a reset of sorts, the way I’d always imagined it did in big families. I supposed it made sense. None of us were related by blood, not even Gray and me, but we’d become more than we set out to be. They were my brothers.
Well, except for Ky.
I shot a clandestine glance his way and started when Chester barreled toward me out of nowhere. Gray let him clean up the bacon bit he was after, then scooped him up and bumped my shoulder.
“Hey, you’re doing just fine. Don’t let one bad meeting get you down,” he said in a fatherly tone.
“I won’t.”
“Good. If you need any help, ask me. You’re not alone here, you know.”
I inclined my head. “Thank you.”
He started to walk away but stepped back. “Are you wearing a new cologne?”
“No, why? Do I smell bad?” I frowned, petting Chester behind his pointy black ears.
“No, just different, like—ugh, Chester. I’m gonna take him outside.”
I nodded and let out a sigh of relief. Gray was like a bloodhound. If Chester wasn’t here to distract him, he’d figure out I smelled a little like the bass player I’d been rubbing against all morning.
I peeked at Ky over the rim of my coffee mug and wasn’t surprised when my heart skipped and somersaulted. He leaned against the island with his arms crossed, looking sexier than anyone should in blue board shorts and a skater brand sweatshirt. I studied the creases of humor at the corner of his eyes and found myself smiling when he laughed at something Tegan said. He was complex and mysterious, but so easy to be with. Literally my exact opposite. I liked knowing what I was doing and where I was going, while he let life unfold naturally. I could never be anything like him, but I was happy just to be near him. Ky must have sensed my stare. He held my gaze and this time when he smiled, I knew it was for me. And for now, that was all I needed.
* * *
The ocean-meets-mountain motif in the lobby at Sandstone’s office on La Cienega hinted at the origin of the company’s name. Tasteful black-and-white photographs of the Pacific Coast and local mountain vistas were hung on dark wood-paneled walls throughout the waiting room. The five electric guitars behind the tall reception desk were the only indication I was in the right place. Call me crazy, but when your business was specifically music, it seemed like it might be a good idea to advertise it everywhere. Put records and music notes on everything. It was a tad off-putting when your company’s name made it sound like you sold tile to eco-conscious clients, and your office looked like a spa that shared space with a guitar repair shop. My inner designer, the one who rearranged my condo at whim every other month, wasn’t impressed. And the marketing major in me was flat-out appalled.