Hearing the excitement in Isabelle’s voice did things to me. I’d have Paul follow up on it tonight. He wasn’t just my driver but also my assistant.
“How do they surprise you?”
“Well, when I moved to New York, they came to help me with the furniture and stuff. They lived in Washington back then. And now they take me out to dinner, or drop by my apartment to check if I need anything. They’re great brothers.”
“Sounds like it. Listening to you makes me miss my family.”
Talking to Isabelle felt honest and raw in a way few things felt around me. People rarely talked to me about personal things. It was always about music or parties or how to capitalize on my image.
“Can I ask you something?” she whispered.
“Go ahead.”
“Sasha said you had a relationship that didn’t end well a few years ago. I didn’t want to ask her about more details because it didn’t feel right, but...”
I sat up straighter, surprised Sasha had mentioned it at all. She wasn’t one to gossip.
“It was when we started as a band. I dated Kate, who, it turned out, only wanted to sell a sex tape of us.”
“Holy shit!”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry. That’s insane.”
That experience only reinforced my belief that relationships weren’t worth it.
“It was a long time ago, but it’s left me with a sour taste in my mouth.”
“No kidding.”
“My parents can’t figure out why I’m still single. They’ve been married for so long that they don’t understand why anyone would want anything else.”
Isabelle laughed. “Mine are the same. They don’t understand why we don’t all fall in love and give them a ton of grandkids. I think it’s a generational thing. And also small-town dynamics are a bit different. They’ve—oh, I didn’t order another glass.” She changed the tone abruptly, clearly speaking to someone else.
“No, the gentleman at the bar sent it,” a female voice said.
My fingers froze on the armrest. I gripped the phone tighter.
“Thank you, but I can’t accept it. Please take it back,” Isabelle said. After a few seconds, she said, “Okay, I’m back.”
“I heard that.” I had no right to ask her this, but I wanted all the rights. All of them. “I know we didn’t talk about us on Saturday, but don’t go out with anyone else until I’m back.”
“I had no intention of doing that.”
I expelled a long breath and relaxed a bit in my chair. The thought of another guy looking at her was enough to drive me crazy. I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t territorial, and I certainly didn’t get jealous.
Until Isabelle.
Chapter Eight
Isabelle
The rest of the week was a bit of a doozy. On Wednesday morning, I overslept, which meant no call with Brayden. He kept his promise, and the restaurant called me to let me know they’d reserved a table for four. I was so over the moon that if Brayden was in front of me, I’d have given him one hell of a smooch. I couldn’t believe he was so thoughtful.
Dylan and Ian were so happy about our dinner that they didn’t even ask me how I managed to get a reservation so fast. We were out until late, so of course I overslept the next morning as well.
Isabelle: Talk to you this evening? I’m SO sorry.
Brayden: We’re going for drinks with the crew from the talk show, so I’ll probably be dead to the world tomorrow morning. But in the evening, it’ll be just you and me after we get the band business out of the way.
I swallowed hard, staring at the message. “Just you and me.” Oh, Brayden, Brayden. What is this man doing to me?
***
On Friday, I was a little antsy when I arrived at the cottage. I’d drawn up a plan for the band, and I wasn’t sure if they’d be on board with it. But that wasn’t the only reason I was on pins and needles. I was going to see Brayden after a whole week, and there was a slight hiccup in my evening plans.
Getting out of the car, I rolled my shoulders, skimming my palms down my thighs to smooth my dress before knocking at the front door.
The band had landed two hours ago, and Sasha thought it would be good if they saw my plan before filming their next Facebook live tomorrow.
Brayden opened the door. My breath caught as I took him in. His hair was slightly damp and tousled, the curls in complete disarray. He’d obviously just finished showering; the linen shirt he was wearing was plastered to his body in a few spots where he hadn’t dried himself completely.
“Hi!” My voice sounded a little high-pitched, a lot weird. I cleared my throat but wasn’t sure what to say next. How was this happening? This wasn’t our first meeting... but it was the first time I’d seen him after he’d unabashedly told me not to date anyone else.
“Isabelle, come in.” He smiled as if he knew exactly what was going through my mind.
My arm nearly brushed his chest as I stepped inside. He smelled like soap.
“How was your flight?” I asked, finally managing to get my wits together.
“Uneventful, unlike the landing at JFK.”
“Oh?”
“A fan recognized us, and then things escalated, but security managed to get us out. The guys will be down in a few minutes. Do you want something to drink?”
“Sure, some water.”
He led me to the bar area in the secondary living room. It looked eerily empty without guests, or at least the band. I was aware that I was completely alone with Brayden in this huge space. He poured water in a glass, sliding it to me over the bar counter.
Placing my bag on top, I took out my iPad. Brayden disappeared from my line of view, and then I sensed him come up behind me. I sucked in a breath when I felt him right at my back. Our bodies weren’t touching, but the heat of him was impossible to miss.
“Did you think about what you want us to do tonight?” he asked.
I turned around slowly. “About that... A client asked me if she could have an emergency session this evening. Her husband just up and left, and I don’t have the heart to turn her down.”
Brayden’s expression softened. “You’re an amazing person, Isabelle. Text me after you’re done.”
“Really?”
“You didn’t think I’d give up, did you? I know my life is complicated, Isabelle. But I can’t stop thinking about you. Even when I’m writing music. Especially then.”
“I’m your muse?” I asked in a teasing tone, realizing my nerves had subsided a little.
“Yes. Yes you are.”
He was inches away from me. I licked my lips, unable to move from my spot. I didn’t really want to anyway. I wanted him.
I placed a hand on his chest, skimming my thumb over the top button of his shirt.
He kissed me, and it was hot and dirty and insanely delicious. He bit my lower lip lightly before feathering the tip of his tongue on my upper one. Unexpected pleasure rocked through me, weakening my knees. I held on to both of his shoulders, at least at first, but then I lowered my hands all over his torso, needing to touch him. With every inch of him I explored, I became greedy for more. His abs were rock hard, just as I’d imagined they’d be. I felt up the shape of each before moving my hands farther down until I reached the top of the V that disappeared into his jeans. I skimmed two fingers down each side, stopping at the waistband. I was shaking with the need to touch more of him, but we couldn’t cross that line. Not here, not now.