Staged (Exodus End 3)

“That would be great,” Zach said, moving forward to stand beside her. He jabbed a thumb in Steve’s direction. “This guy forgets to feed me when he makes me chase girls all day.”

“Girls?” Roux chanced a quick glance at Steve. “Plural?”

“Don’t worry,” Zach said. “He only flew to Seattle to see that other woman so he could clear his plate enough to focus fully on you.”

“Seattle?” Roux squeaked.

“I am going to murder you,” Steve said, shoving Zach’s shoulder.

Zach grinned, his pale blue eyes twinkling with merriment. “So, what kind of refreshments are we talking about here?” Zach asked, which prompted Roux into motion.

“Let’s go see what we can find,” she said, trying and failing not to fixate on the woman in Seattle that Zach was talking about and wondering why mentioning her would justify his murder.

“There are leftovers from yesterday,” Mama said, zipping around the three of them like a road-raging driver. “Do you boys like chicken Alfredo, or are you vegetarians like my Roux?”

Zach chuckled, though Roux wasn’t sure if it was because Mama had called them boys and they were both in their early thirties, or if he found going without meat humorous.

“I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in months,” Zach said, quickening his pace to fall into step with Mama, which left the spot beside Roux for Steve to claim.

“Mama, I can take care of this,” Roux said. “Why don’t you go up to bed? You must be exhausted.”

Mama paused in the kitchen doorway and turned to give Roux a look that said, as if I’d leave you alone with two men. Mama tended to forget Roux was a grown-ass woman who could take care of herself and had been alone in the company of men countless times, but Roux wouldn’t argue. Not when she was under Mama’s roof. It was an argument she would never win.

“I’d love some chicken Alfredo, Mrs. Rivera.”

Roux scowled. How did Steve know Mama’s last name? She’d never mentioned it to him.

Steve smiled the kind of smile that would make most women swoon. “And the delight of your company.”

“Charming me will not clear the route to my daughter,” Mama said brusquely before turning to enter the kitchen.

“Ah, I love her so flipping much,” Zach said, slapping Steve on the arm before trailing Mama.

Roux started to follow, but Steve caught her arm. “So what’s blocking my route to you? I want to know exactly what I’m up against. A string of broken hearts? Virginity gifted only in marriage?”

Roux snorted. “I’m no virgin.” She flicked her gaze up to meet his. “Disappointed?”

“I’m no virgin either.”

“Aw, now I’m the one who’s disappointed.” She winked at him, glad he wasn’t a hypocrite. Worldly men who expected their women to be virgins? Yeah, no.

“Is it my partying or my love of meat or because I insulted you or—”

“Is what your partying or your disgusting diet or your big mouth?”

“The reason you didn’t call me.”

“I did call you,” she reminded him.

“Why you didn’t call immediately.”

“I already explained it to you. I can’t see you while we’re on tour together.”

“That’s really the only reason?”

“The only one,” she assured him.

“So after the tour is over?”

“We can be more than friends. If that’s what you want.”

A little breath—sounding like relief—escaped him. “That’s definitely what I want. I thought I was going to have to try to change for you, but all I have to do is wait a few months?”

She nodded, sure they’d be the longest few months of her life, and hoped some other woman didn’t turn his head in the interim. “I don’t want you to change for me or anyone.”

“But you are asking me to change,” he said. “You’re asking me to be patient, to delay gratification. When I see something I want, Roux, I don’t wait. I go after it. And I want you.”

His fingers slid across her cheek and into her hair. Her heart, which was already pounding from his nearness, kicked into a faster gear as he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. The heat between them surged, and her lips parted as a soft moan escaped her. He deepened the kiss, drew her closer, engaged her senses until there was only him. The sound of his breath, the taste of his mouth, the texture of his shirt, and the hardness of his back muscles beneath her fingertips—the scent of his body, the dizziness with which he unbalanced her—all made him real to her yet at the same time strengthened her fantasies, her ideal of him, because everything about this moment was all she’d dreamed of since she’d watched him walk out of that satellite radio studio in New York.

“Roux, would you like me to fix something for you?” Mama called from the kitchen.

Mama might as well have dumped a cold bucket of water over her head. Roux pulled away from Steve and called back in a surprisingly steady voice, “No, thanks. I’ll just have a cup of tea.”

“I’ll put the kettle on.”

Steve’s gorgeous mouth quirked. “Should have known you’d be a tea drinker.”

“And what’s wrong with being a tea drinker?”

“Not a single thing.”

She pressed her body closer to his, reminded again of how different they were in every capacity, yet realizing that those differences were what pulled her toward him. Turning her face into his neck, she allowed her lips to gently caress the pulse point in his throat. He shuddered, arms wrapping around her back to pull her closer.

“If you’re trying to help me control myself,” he growled close to her ear, “you’re failing spectacularly.”

“Not sorry,” she whispered, rubbing her lips against his skin. She wanted to experience every inch of him with her mouth, her hands, her naked body. She’d never wanted a man this much before. It was a little frightening to realize how close she was to spinning out of control, and at the same time, the thought of letting go excited her to a new level.

She already knew that “let’s just be friends” conversation was never going to happen. But they did need to have a different conversation.

“How did you know Mama’s last name was Rivera?”

Steve cringed. “If I tell you, you’ll think I’m a stalker.”

She chuckled. “I already think that.” But she wasn’t afraid of him. Not even a little.

“I tried looking you up, but there’s no mention of Roux Williams anywhere except as a band member of Baroquen.”

Because Roux wasn’t her legal name.

“So how did you manage to track me down?” There was an oversight somewhere that would have to be remedied. She wasn’t afraid for herself—she had no living enemies—but she was concerned for Azura. No one could know who her younger sister really was.