Thrill Me (One Night with Sole Regret 9)

No, Kelly wasn’t on the bus. He’d gone off to Galveston to be depressed over Sara. A stupid thing to do, but Owen didn’t understand life-altering grief. Luckily, he’d never personally experienced the loss of his soulmate or anyone close to him. Not even a grandparent. He hoped Kellen would get over Sara soon though. The guy needed to get laid so bad, just being around his celibate friend made Owen horny. He was duty bound to get laid enough for the both of them. “I guess she can have his dinner then.”

Tex nodded. “So she’s sure she got pregnant by one of us.”

“She’s sure.”

“But she’s almost certain it’s yours, right? My wife won’t want me bringing home some slut I knocked up by accident.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t,” Owen said, shaking his head in disgust.

“I mean, what happens on the bus, stays on the bus, right?”

That was their usual bargain, but this case was different. They couldn’t force Lindsey to live as a prisoner on the bus with her baby. The father would eventually have to acknowledge the child’s existence.

“Just pray it isn’t yours,” Owen said. Owen would rather the baby be his than have it be Tex’s. The guy couldn’t even stay faithful to his wife, so what kind of father would he make? A shitty one, Owen presumed.

“The Lord has been getting an earful of prayers from me tonight, that’s for damn sure.”

He’d probably be getting an earful of prayers from all of them tonight. “Yeah” was all Owen said before he turned and shuffled up the aisle between the sofa where Jacob was watching television and where Gabe was reading some obnoxiously thick book. Adam had hidden away in his bunk. Based on their body language and outright hiding, none of them wanted to talk. And Kelly wasn’t around to listen to Owen’s crushing problems. He headed for the cabinet and his old standby in times of crisis—food.

He was at the bottom of a bag of stale pretzels when the bus turned off the highway and into a 24-hour diner. He dusted the salt off his hands and moved to the back of the bus to get Lindsey. Everyone else fled, as if he were about to escort a man-eating shark out of the back bedroom.

“Are you ready to eat?” he asked from the doorway, thinking it wasn’t wise to help her out of bed or even touch her. Not when he planned to keep as far from her as possible. He suspected that if he was too nice to her and allowed even friendship to bloom between them, she’d misread his intentions and think a romantic relationship stood a chance.

Lindsey sat up on the edge of the bed and stumbled as she attempted to get her feet beneath her. She chuckled at her clumsiness and dug her fingers into the headboard for the extra boost she needed to stand.

“I can’t decide if I’m more tired or hungry,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes with the back of her wrist.

“I can bring you some takeout,” he offered, “if you’d rather stay here and rest.”

“I’m up,” she said and waddled past him, rubbing her belly with both hands. He followed her, stopping when she hesitated at the top of the steep bus steps.

“Can you manage?” he asked, doing his best to keep his distance when every instinct shouted at him to help her down the potentially dangerous steps.

“I think so,” she said, gripping the shiny metal bar that served as a railing. “I’m just exhausted. My legs are a little wobbly.”

Was she saying that so he’d take her arm and help her down the steps, or was she legitimately too tired to safely make it down on her own? He wasn’t willing to risk her falling. A security guard had already shoved her and made her fall once that night; he refused to be responsible for another tumble.

“Take my arm,” he insisted, shifting into the narrow stairwell beside her and assisting her as indifferently as possible as they took one step at a time.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I wish I could get my shit together tonight.”

“You’ve had an exhausting day.” He wasn’t sure why he was making excuses for her. He felt like such a doormat. None of the other guys were going out of their way to help this woman, so why should he?

Because the baby was most likely his.

This could not be happening.

“An exhausting three months,” she said and squeezed his arm.

Maybe he’d ask her about those three months later, but now they had to navigate the crowd of opening bands and crew members already headed toward the entrance of the diner. By being the last off the bus, they’d missed their opportunity to be at the front of the line. Owen received a lot of confused stares from those waiting in front of them, but he kept his head down and his hands off Lindsey so everyone wouldn’t wrongly assume that she was with him. Well, technically she was with him, but not because he wanted her to be. He glanced at her, finding her silky blond hair shielding her expression as she stared at the ground in front of them. He wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable.

They were seated at a table for two—because all the larger tables were already taken and his bandmates had betrayed him by allowing some other dudes to sit in his spot and the spot normally reserved for Kelly. Jackasses.

“Sorry you have to eat with me instead of your friends,” Lindsey said as she settled into her chair.

“I’d rather eat with you anyway,” he said, which at the moment was true. Jackasses.

“How nice of you to lie to save my feelings,” Lindsey said with a smile of gratitude. She picked up the menu in front of her. Owen followed her lead.

A tired-looking waitress approached their table after a few minutes. “What would you like to drink?”

“Water is fine,” Lindsey said.

“For me too,” he said. Owen had already decided he was going to feast in abundance tonight, and he wouldn’t be wasting those excess calories on beverages. He’d squeeze in an extra workout the next day to make up for his indulgence.

“I’m Katie and I’ll be your server tonight,” the waitress said as she filled their water glasses. “Are you ready to order?”

“I’m still trying to decide,” Lindsey said. She nodded toward Owen. “I’ll have it figured out by the time he’s done ordering.”

The diner was so crowded and noisy that Owen had to yell his order over the din. And seeing as he was stressed out and planning to feed that stress, his order was incredibly long and detailed.

“I’ll just have some scrambled eggs and wheat toast,” Lindsey said when it was her turn to order.

Owen felt like a complete pig for ordering the steak with the loaded baked potato and the shrimp platter with fries as well as a full-size chef salad and a bowl of chili. He’d even planned on getting dessert when the time came.

“I thought you were hungry,” he said to Lindsey as the waitress walked away.

Her cheeks went pink. “I’m rather short on funds at the moment,” she said.

“You don’t have to worry about that. The band will pick up the tab for everyone.” He indicated the giant crowd of people around him with the sweep of one hand.

“Yeah, but they work for you. I’ve already imposed and—”

“It’s fine,” he insisted. “I’ll call the waitress back and you can order whatever you want.”

She busied herself with loosening the paper napkin around her silverware and spreading the pathetic excuse for a table linen over her lap. “Scrambled eggs are fine,” she said, obviously uncomfortable.

He didn’t push the issue. He’d just insist he was too full to finish his own excessive meal and offer his leftovers to her. She wouldn’t be able to refuse something that would otherwise go to waste, would she?

“So,” he said after a long moment of painful silence, “what kind of work do you do?” If she was serious about finding a job, then he was serious about helping her with that if he could.

“Uh, before I got canned, you mean?”

He nodded and shifted his attention to his water glass, rubbing at the condensation collected on its exterior with one thumb.

“Banking,” she said. “

I was a teller and then I became a loan officer. I got fired for being pregnant, but my employee file will say I gave out too many bad loans. I’m somewhat of a sucker for the destitute.”

He lifted his head and met her gaze.

“Sort of like you,” she said with a smile.

He sipped his water, letting her insult or compliment—he couldn’t tell which it was—slide. “Is that what you want to continue doing in the future? Banking, I mean. Not being a sucker for the destitute.”

“I’m not sure anyone will hire me,” she said. “I didn’t leave my last job on good terms. I called my boss—my ex-boss—a few choice words when she fired me. She’ll never give me a decent recommendation.”

“You can try. Do you want to stay in Austin after the baby is born?”