Chapter 11

Riley left work late, which meant she arrived at Evan’s several minutes past six. The looming gate before her wouldn’t help her get to his house faster, but she had no choice but to press the button and wait for someone to say something.

“Georgia Panic,” a man said, and Riley couldn’t tell if it was Evan or his brother Carl.

“It’s Riley Randall,” she said.

“Hmm,” the man said, and she knew it was Evan then. “I think Riley was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago.”

“Was she?” she asked, enjoying the flirting even through an intercom. Yes, she wanted real conversation with him too, but the man was delightful to flirt with.

“Yeah, and we didn’t get any texts, so I’m just going to go about heating up these tacos until I hear from her.”

She grabbed her phone and tapped out a quick message to Evan. I’m so sorry. I had a monster bride in the office, and I left late. I’ll be there soon.

Then she reached out the window and pressed the button again.

“Georgia Panic,” Evan said again, and Riley almost started laughing.

“It’s Riley Randall,” she said as if he didn’t know her last name.

“Ah, Riley. Come on in. I’ll get the tacos hot.” The gate started to rumble open in front of her. She eased her car through, marveling at the mansions on this part of the island. She’d worked with a lot of wealthy families and brides over the years, and she had enough money for her needs and most of her wants. But money like this…she couldn’t even fathom it.

And Evan had it.

She muttered the number on his house and looked left and then right. “This way.” She swung her car to the left and inched down the road, taking several long seconds just to pass one house. Er, mansion.

Finally pulling into the appointed one, she found Evan standing on that same porch he’d texted her a picture of last night, looking fresh from the shower and utterly devastating in a pair of khaki shorts and a blue button-up shirt that seemed a little tight around the biceps.

Whether he had a personal trainer yelling at him or not, the man had spent some time in a gym to his benefit. He lifted his hand in a casual wave and put his hands in his pockets, watching her.

Riley got out of the car, stepping to the back door to get her beach bag out too. She still wore her work clothes, and navigating the dozen or so steps up to where he waited for her was going to be tricky. Especially in these heels.

Still, she found her balance with the extra weight of her bag and started the journey. Evan met her after she’d only taken three steps and said, “Let me take that bag for you.” His voice sounded like melted butter and honey, and Riley paused to look up at him.

He started to take her bag, but something happened in the transfer, and it ended up on the ground. Riley didn’t even care. She gazed at this man, noting that his lips curved upward because she couldn’t look anywhere else.

“Hey,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.

“I can’t cook,” he said out of nowhere. “So I know you said you wanted me to cook you dinner, but I almost started this house on fire about an hour ago.” He chuckled and glanced toward the front door. “Carl actually banned me from turning on the stove again.”

Riley started laughing, and she couldn’t stop. Evan joined her, and she leaned into his embrace as they laughed and laughed. When she finally sobered, she asked, “So what are we eating?”

“I ordered tacos,” he said. “Carl went to get them for us.”

Her eyes dropped to his mouth again. “So we’re alone.”

“For a few minutes.” He bent to pick up her bag. “Did you like how real I was there? How serious? I totally told you how flawed I am.” He kicked a smile in her direction and started up the steps. He went slow, giving her a hand to hold should she need it.

She made it to the top of the steps and turned to look out toward the edge of the island. Another house sat across the street from Evan, but it was down lower, and she could see the glinting, blue water past the roof. “Wow. Great view.”

“Yeah,” he said, and she turned to catch him staring right at her. Without apologizing or clearing his throat or any awkwardness at all, he turned to open the front door. “Are you wearing that to sit by the pool?”

“Nope,” she said. “I brought two bathing suits, actually.” Why had she told him that? She didn’t want to confess about her inability to make a decision quite so soon in this relationship. Sure, at work, she knew exactly what to do. Where to put a file, how to make a phone call, when to hitch on a smile and when to act surprised.

But with a famous, handsome, rich rockstar? She had no idea what she was doing. Her mind continued to add characteristics to Evan’s list—kind, funny, mysterious, smart—as she followed him into the house.

She paused and looked up, taking in the grandeur of the entryway, the carved steps that went up, the huge doorways that went out. “Fancy,” she said.

“It gets the job done,” Evan said.

“Is the whole band staying here?” she asked, soaking in the richness of the marble beneath her feet, the dark wood on the arches in the doorways.

“Just me, Carl, and Hank,” he said. “DJ went back to his hometown until we start to record again. Peter and Dan went on a cruise or something with their wives and kids. Brett went to visit my parents.” He held up her bag. “Do you want to change now?”

“Yes,” she said, gratefully kicking off her heels. “Will the band come back for the wedding?”

“No,” he said. “I’m just singing solo.”

“Oh, you do solo stuff?”

“For close friends,” he said with a fast smile. So fast, she wasn’t even sure she’d seen it. Riley took her bag from him, and he pointed her into a bathroom that was as big as her master suite. Everything seemed polished and high-end, and she hurried to dig through her bag, still undecided about which suit she should wear.

In September, in the evening, she wouldn’t necessarily be hot. So she didn’t really need to wear a two-piece. Her one-piece was almost two pieces the neckline swooped so low. She liked that it was black and hid some of the bulges surely all thirty-five-year-olds had. The two-piece was bright red, and it screamed at men to look at her.

Evan was already looking.

She shimmied into the black one-piece and pulled her coverup over her head. It was really just a big, see-through T-shirt that wafted around her body like spiderwebs. Satisfied with how she looked, she exited the bathroom to hear Evan singing across the foyer. Going that way, she found him in the kitchen putting cans of soda on the counter, his voice so full and so beautiful.

“You’re a great singer,” she said, causing him to cut off in the middle of a word.

“Thank you,” he said. He seemed frozen to the spot and he looked down to her feet and back to her eyes several times. “You look great.”

“I’m kind of tone deaf,” she said. “Is that a deal-breaker for you?”

“Why would that be a deal-breaker?” He came around the island and swept one arm around her effortlessly. Riley enjoyed his warmth, his strength, the spirit she could feel oozing off of him.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just wondered.”

“I can’t see why that would matter,” he whispered, dropping his head to skate his lips across her cheek. “I’m the one who has to bring home the money with my voice.”

“Mm.” She held onto his shoulders and swayed with him as he pressed his lips to her neck, sliding his mouth up to her ear.

“Carl will be back soon,” he said.

“Better kiss me quick then,” Riley murmured.

Evan twitched, paused, and asked, “Really?”

“Are you going to make me ask twice?” She pulled back and looked up into his face.

“I’m just surprised. Last night, you…acted like I was playing with you.”

Indecision raged within Riley. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted.

“That makes two of us,” he said. “Despite what the tabloids say, I’m not super experienced with women.”

“I am surprised by that,” Riley said, enjoying this serious side of him.

“What about you?” he asked. “Loads of men, I assume?”

“Why would you assume that?”

“Uh, because you’re drop-dead gorgeous. Smart. Funny. Talented.” He pressed one finger into her back with each item he listed. “Have you been married before?”

“No,” she said.

“Surprising,” he said.

She didn’t see how that was surprising at all. “I haven’t had a whole lot of luck with men,” she said, deciding to state it bluntly. “I think I’m fun. I know how to flirt. I go out with someone a few times, and everything fizzles. They don’t call back.” She swallowed, wondering how she’d gone from telling him to kiss her to spilling her guts about her awful dating history.

“You are fun,” he said. “You do know how to flirt. And we’ve been out a few times already.”

“Have we?”

“I think we’ve established that I can’t count.” He grinned at her, but the gesture faded quickly. “But Riley, I’m going to call back. Again and again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He leaned down then, and Riley let her eyes drift closed. She held very still, all of her nerves at attention until he touched his lips to hers. Riley’s heartbeat rippled and sparks popped across her shoulders.

Evan growled in the back of his throat, kneaded her closer, and kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. She became hungry for him, and she couldn’t get close enough to him. She kissed him back, hoping he could feel the same passion in her touch that she felt in his.

“Hey,” someone said loudly, and Riley had the wherewithal to jump away from Evan. His brother stood there holding an aluminum tray of tacos. “Food’s here.” He glared at Evan, who ran one hand up the back of his neck, mussing up his hair.

“Hey, Carl,” he said. “This is Riley Randall.” He indicated her, as if Carl hadn’t just seen them making out.

“Hey, Carl,” she said, putting on her business skin for just a moment. “It’s good to see you again.” She glanced at Evan, somehow trying to communicate to him that she’d met his brother before.

At the moment, Carl didn’t look like anything was nice. Not kittens, or puppies, or meeting her. He shook her hand anyway and said, “And you. Evan talks about you constantly.”

“Hey,” Evan said, but Riley secretly liked that he’d told his brother about her. “Thanks for getting the tacos, man. I owe you one.”

“Two,” Carl said, leaning closer to his brother. But he didn’t even attempt to speak in a lower tone when he said, “You promised me you wouldn’t kiss her.”

Confusion ran through Riley. Evan was forty-two-years-old. He could kiss anyone he wanted. Couldn’t he?