TOUR SCHEDULE
Afterward, Dad invited Dakota to his “office,” the last bedroom
upstairs that Mom called “the escape hatch,” where Dad spent far more time
playing his collection of acoustic and electric guitars than doing any kind of
work. I could hear Dad talking animatedly, Dakota’s rumble sounding patient as
they discussed several riffs Dad wanted to learn, their voices fading as they
climbed the stairs.
I wished I could have escaped the kitchen as easily as Dakota.
“You couldn’t give me a heads-up that you were bringing a celebrity
home? We could have eaten in the formal dining room at least,” Mom hissed at me
when the men were probably only two steps up the hallway.
“I don’t think he minded that we ate like normal people in the
kitchen, Mom.”
“Well, I minded. I would have liked to have given him a better first
impression.”
“I think your stuffed pork chops impressed the heck out of him. Poor
Dad’s not going to have any leftovers for his lunch tomorrow.”
Mom softened at that. “He did seem to enjoy my food.” She smiled and
glanced toward the stairs. “I don’t think your dad will mind that he’s doing
without for lunch tomorrow.”
“Geez, you two. None of that is important,” Emma interrupted. “Are
the two of you dating? After knowing him what, a week?” She apparently had no
intention of limiting her obnoxious questions to Dakota.
My heart stuttered. Carefully keeping my gaze on the dishes I rinsed
and the tone of my voice even, I said, “No, we’re not dating.”
“Then what was all the hand-holding you were doing when you walked
into the house?” Her expression was a sarcastic Uh-huh as she sat on the counter beside the sink, swinging her legs
as Mom and I rinsed dishes and loaded the dishwasher.
“Panic, I think.”
Emma cocked a brow. “Really.” The thick sarcasm in that one word
could best anything Daniel Tosh could emote in an entire episode of Tosh.0.
Mom laughed. “I think what Annabelle’s referring to is that
glass-shattering scream you let out when you saw who she’d brought home with
her.”
“Exactly,” I added, relieved. Dakota holding my hand as I’d
introduced him to my family felt too much like bringing home someone important
to me, someone who could possibly be permanent. Which of course did not
describe Dakota Perri. Not. At. All. Hot, wild sex in a hotel suite after a
concert? Yes. Going home with a girl to meet her parents? Not so much.
“Pooh. He hears that kind of reaction on a nightly basis when he’s
on tour,” Emma scoffed, but I noticed a faint pink stain on her cheeks.
“True. But those decibels in a huge arena are easier to take than in
the close confines of a hallway in someone’s house.” I smirked.
“Whatever.”
She hopped down off the counter and walked over to the door to
listen to the music coming from upstairs. Soon, Mom and I joined her. By silent
agreement, the three of us found ourselves upstairs in Dad’s office.
I’m not sure how long they played because it was so fun to listen to
them riff off each other. Dakota couldn’t hide his virtuosity, but he dialed it
back and let Dad take the lead occasionally. The way Dad’s face lit up when the
two of them connected on a rhythm or a progression sucked me further inside the
gravitational pull of Dakota’s orbit. If I’d thought him sexy as he whispered
naughty things in my ear or winked at me during a wedding—or drove me out of my
mind in a hotel suite—he out-sexied himself with the encouraging way he treated
my dad’s decent but still amateur guitar-playing skills.
Finally, Dad remembered himself. “Dakota, this has been awesome.
Never in my life would I have thought I’d have a private master class from a
true professional. Thank you.”
“Oh my gosh, yes, Dakota. He won’t be able to stop talking about
this for weeks,” Mom gushed, her face shining. For as much as she teased him
about his “escape hatch,” she loved to listen to Dad play because of how much
he loved playing.
“My pleasure. I learned a few things too, so thank you. It was the
least I could do to repay that delicious dinner, Mrs. Stewart.”
Jesus. Again with the manners. The man continued to systematically
shatter all my preconceived notions about him. Dammit. I didn’t want to like
him as much as I did. Wanting his body was one thing. Liking his personality
was something else entirely.
“Please, call me Ellie.” The demure look on her face told all about
how Dakota had charmed her too. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner whenever
you’d like.”
Really, Mom? Really? I hadn’t figured out yet how to deal with Dakota at work, and now
Mom extended him a standing invitation to dinner? After the way he’d invited
himself over tonight, I had no doubt the man would take her up on it too. Soon.
And often. What was I going to do with that?
On cue, Dakota said, “I’m all over that.”
The wicked gleam in his eyes as he slanted me a look told me he knew
exactly what I thought of Mom’s standing invite. So he piled it on. “Annabelle,
you gonna walk me out?”
Emma smirked at me and piped up, “I’ll walk you out, Dakota.”
He didn’t even blink. “Two gorgeous Stewart girls, one for each arm?
Can’t pass that up.”
I rolled my eyes and stood to lead him from the room.
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hgtempaddy
Thanks for the great excerpt. The book sounds very interesting.
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