Rockstar Baby (Crescent Cove 6)

And I was very okay with that.

He swooped me up in his arms and tossed me over his shoulder. “That’s it. I’m freezing my bollocks off and even your impressively beautiful mouth can’t combat that.”

I laughed as he hopped down onto the snow, and wobbled his way to the house.

“Have those boots ever seen snow?”

“They have now.” He brought his hand down on my ass and I screeched out a laugh. He put me down just before the door and we tumbled across the threshold in a tangle of legs and arms and kisses.

Laughter was only beaten out by moans as we stumbled our way down the hallway again to my room to try out the last condom he had with him.

Oh, how we made good use of it.

When I was fairly sure I’d never be able to walk again, we raided the kitchen for a frozen pizza. I even convinced him to try a few of my ice creams.

He showed me a few different concoctions that I’d never have thought of without his input. Between the two of us, we managed to make a batch of salted caramel and chocolate swirl.

A text from my brother gave me the last reprieve of the day. He was buried in a project at the shop and wouldn’t be home until late.

I wasn’t even ashamed of stealing one of his condoms from the medicine cabinet. He wouldn’t miss it. Maybe.

By the time Rory had to leave, there were no awkward pauses. I couldn’t even be mad that he was leaving. I was lucky enough to have a wonderful memory to pull out when I was old and gray.

When I was a crazy single woman who’d enjoyed an intense fling with an inventive Irish lover.

He kissed me at the door. Long, lingering kisses that made my lips tingle and my chest ache.

Maybe his chest ached a little too. I would probably never know.

And then he was gone.

I didn’t even mind that I had to SOS my best friend to get my car the next day. It was that worth it.

Nine

Approximately one month later

Du

de, where are you?

The text from Kellan came across my rental car’s dashboard screen—and yes, I’d rented the same model car from the same place, out of some misguided sense of sentimentalism. There was no snow in Crescent Cove now, thank God, but the scenario was already setting up the same.

I was late due to no fault of my own. Plane issues, missed connecting flight, lack of cars at the rental place. When I’d noticed this little dreamboat was one of two cars still available, how could I say no? It wasn’t as if I was depriving anyone else of it. The rental clerk had shoved me toward it as if she couldn’t wait to see it go.

To me, it was a sign that this trip would be as eventful as the last. And I’d brought a box of condoms this time just in case.

Tapping the wheel, I slid into an open spot near the Rusty Spoon and turned off the engine. My blood was already humming at the idea of seeing Ivy—

No. Wrong. I was merely anticipating another productive session with Kellan. Which was why I’d cleared my calendar this weekend when he’d contacted me and asked if I was available. Professional courtesy of course.

The condoms didn’t mean I was thinking about Ivy. Naturally not. But I certainly wasn’t thinking about any other women, in Crescent Cove or elsewhere. In the month I’d been gone, I’d barely even noticed any of the other females in my midst. That was saying plenty since I worked with rockstars who paraded around enough beautiful ladies to make the mind spin.

But not mine. Only one woman had registered with me.

I reached across the seat to grab my leather portfolio, flipping it open to scan the sheet on the top of the pad inside.

Surrounded by fire