Page 27 of Extended Bridge (Passionate Beats #2)

Chapter Fourteen

M y alarm wakes me at nine o’clock. One eye pops open to confirm we’re still in our clothes we wore to the club last night, sans shoes.

The television is on, but we both crashed while the first movie was playing.

Now it’s the streaming service’s homepage.

Guess Bennett’s challenge will have to continue another day.

I glance over at the man sleeping next to me, his usually styled caramel-colored hair falling over his forehead, scruff filling in more than usual.

The perfect Roman nose. The only thing that could possibly make this man more attractive would be a dimple, but his face is clean of them. His butt, though...

“Morning, sleepyhead,” his gruff voice rumbles, causing my core to clench.

Court’s observation rings throughout my body. I do fear I can’t control him. Manage, maybe?

He leans over and plants little kisses from my jawline to my cheek, ending with my willing mouth. Can I manage him? Do I want to ?

On a moan, I fling my arm around his shoulder and settle onto his lap. His hiss reminds me why I’m here.

I leap off his thighs. “Oh shit. I’m so sorry!”

“Sweetheart, not a worry. I’ll gladly take all the pain in the world if it means you’ll straddle me.” He reaches for my waist to haul me over to him again, but I scoot away.

“No way. You’re down to having therapy once a day. I’m not going to be the reason it gets extended.”

He strokes himself through his jeans. “I can show you something else that would like to be extended.”

Ignoring the saliva pooling in my mouth, I give him a stern look. “Bennett. Behave.”

“Said no woman ever.” He pauses. “Well, except for Mom.”

His mention of the woman who’s treated him as less than because he was born hurts a dark spot deep inside.

“Hey,” I move so we’re touching thigh to thigh.

“Unlike what I know about your mother, I, for one, am thrilled you’re here in this world.

I can guess all the females at UC’s concerts would agree.

Not to mention the women in the meet and greets and last night’s club.

Although,” My lips purse. “Some were a bit too familiar for my taste.”

“I’m used to women being handsy with me, Jenna.” He grabs my own hand and traces my fingers. “However, you’re the only person I want to touch me.” He places my palm over his hard hammering heart.

The bus rumbles down the highway, going to whatever city’s next. At the moment, I don’t care. Tossing my fears off the speeding bus, I want to be wrapped in Bennett’s bubble. I lay my head on his pec. “Where are we off to?”

“Not sure,” he replies. “Some place in the south? Georgia? Tennessee? I don’t know.”

“Is this how you live your life? Perform, drink, travel, rise and repeat?”

“Pretty much. It’s better when we get a couple of days off. Luke sets up a nice dinner for us or sightseeing of some sort.”

I rear back. “Really? Like what?”

“We’ve done museums, music studio tours, adventure things like rock climbing.”

“Sounds cool. What about a culinary tour? You guys seem to have an expansive palate.”

He chuckles. “Can’t say that we have done one of those.”

I file this option away for my next conversation with Luke. “So what do you think’s on tap for today?”

His stomach growls. “Well, I’m hoping food is our number one priority.”

I kiss his willing lips. “Stay here.” I walk down the main aisle to the driver’s seat, tugging Court’s dress into place. “Hey, Danny.”

“Miss,” he replies without moving his eyes off the road. “What can I do for you? Everything all right with the big guy?”

I appreciate how he looks out for Bennett. Danny’s as much a part of UC as Bennett or Nese or Luke or any crewmember. “Bennett’s fine, but he’s hungry. Any idea when we’ll be stopping for food?”

Before I’m finished talking, he’s on the walkie talkie. “There’s a rest stop in two miles. I told the other drivers we’ll be stopping, and they’ll meet us there.”

“Thank you so much.” I return to Bennett, picking up a shirt along the way. “Here you go. We’re stopping for some grub soon.”

His head pops through the material. “You asked for me?”

“Can’t have the lead singer of Untamed Coaster passed out due to hunger now, can we?” I giggle. Giggle? What is this man doing to me?

“Pass me the syrup.”

Coop passes Pierce a glass dispenser. “Here you go, asswipe.”

For his part, Pierce shoots the guitarist a dirty look, then pours a healthy amount of maple syrup over his Belgian waffles.

Tristan, sitting next to me, says, “Did you all check the internet this morning? When will the press let go of this stupid Black Widow thing?”

My blueberry pancake halts on its way into my mouth. Bennett clamps his hand around my thigh. “Total bullshit.” He kisses my cheek.

I can only imagine the comments. How people have jumped on the growing bandwagon of bashing me. I drop my fork onto my plate.

“We all know the truth,” Río says. “Don’t let them impact your life, Jenna. They’ll move on soon enough.”

Yeah. I’ve heard that before. Like weeks ago when we first went out to dinner. Or while checking out property in Aroostook. Since I’ve joined the tour, things keep escalating rather than quieting. I catch Luke’s gaze. “What can I do?”

He checks out the table. “I’ve talked with our PR team about this, guys. The media is like a dog with a bone with this story. It’s too juicy for them to be put off, no matter how hard we try. The best thing we can do is ignore them.”

Easier said than done. Especially for me, considering my previous exposure to reporters was when I was Darren’s girlfriend.

Back then, the media seemed to slant in my favor.

When he died, the stories focused on his drug use and out-of-control private life—which I didn’t challenge since I was dealing with his death.

Now, however, their barbs prickle the guilt I feel over his death. Plus, I have a business to consider.

My fingers twist in my lap. Bennett says he wants me here with him, but all this negative press can’t be good for the band either. I whisper, “Do you want me to go?”

“No.” Bennett rushes to answer. “You’re helping me get over an injury the media know nothing about. You even told me I’m doing better and dropped my therapy to once a day. Fuck ‘em.”

I glance up, and the rest of the band’s glasses are lifted—coffee, OJ, water, or a Mimosa in Río’s case—and they clink. “Fuck the liars! ”

Seems like I’m staying. If only I could figure out how to tune out the media.

“Besides,” Coop adds. “I bet the reporters are simply jealous. I mean, Jenna looks better than all of them put together.”

I’m about more than my appearance, but I do appreciate his sentiment.

“Yeah,” Río says. “Makes me want to hurt something so she can be my personal physical therapist too.”

Everyone, except Pierce, laughs. I try to join in, actually managing a light chuckle.

Not to be outdone, their manager teases. “She has a hurt wrist and pulled groin muscle covered. What are you thinking of pulling out of joint, Río?” He glances at the floor. “Your...big toe?”

The rest of the table erupts in laughter. For his part, Río takes off his shoe and sock and places his foot on top of the table, ignoring how disgusting a foot amidst our breakfast is. He wiggles his toe in my direction.

“What do you think, Miss Physical Therapist? Can you fix me?”

The absurdity of it all is impossible to ignore. “I’m not sure,” I toss back. “I’d have to shave the hair off to properly examine you.”

Río’s eyes go round. “No way are you shaving my manhood! Did you shave Bennett’s pubes?”

Eww. I scrunch my face back.

Tristan jumps in, shaking his head. “Too much, Río. Too much.”

“What?” the drummer asks, returning his foot to the floor. “I’m like Samson. You can’t touch a strand of my hair.”

Tristan smacks him upside the head. “On his head, dumbass.”

The band continues their playful squabble while Bennett whispers into my ear. “I would let you shave me down there if you want. Would be hot.”

Just like that, my attention is diverted from Río’s disgusting—yet funny—theatrics to the promise contained in Bennett’s eyes. “Not needed in your case, big boy.” Big boy? Where is this woman coming from? “I can evaluate your progress fine with all your hair intact.”

He adjusts himself. “Sure you don’t want an up-close-and-personal look?”

Before I can respond, Tristan pipes up. “Hey, no hogging all Jenna’s attention!”

Breaking Bennett’s spell, I bring my gaze to the new keyboardist. “What did I miss, Mr. Polite?”

The guys around the table guffaw at my nickname for Tristan. They have to know I’m right.

“Luke asked if we want to go on a bourbon tour when we get to Louisville today,” Tristan explains.

“Oh,” I turn to face Bennett. While bourbon isn’t my thing, it’s his drink of choice. Before he can respond, I answer for both of us. “We’re in.”

“Cool!” Tristan’s fist pumps the air. As does Río’s and Coop’s. Pierce doesn’t react in the same way, but he’s smiling, so there’s that.

Luke captures our attention. “B, you don’t usually join in our reindeer games. Are you okay with this?”

My brows close. He must stay away to protect himself. Well, not on my watch. My hand rests on his forearm.

“Seems like the little lady wants to do the tour, so sure. Why not. Count us in.”

A couple of hours, plus the only therapy session of the day later, the buses pull into a bourbon distillery. “Are you excited to get the skinny on the alcohol?”

“I’m excited to spend more time with you,” he corrects.

“Plus, fun time with the band. Which is as important,” I add.

He pulls my back against his front. “I’d be happy to spend all this time in bed with you.”

I relax against his hard chest for a moment. “No sex for two more days, remember?”

“Counting the minutes.” I wait to see if he’s going to say anything more, and am rewarded when he says, “This seems to be important to you, so I’ll happily check out this bourbon trail.”

I’ll take this as a start.