Rockstar Baby (Crescent Cove 6)

I was so wound up by the time the large Happy Acres sign came into view that I was ready to drag his hand under my skirt damn the consequences. I opened my mouth to ask him to find a space behind a tree when two men came into the clearing.

One was rippling with muscle. His hair was in a blue faux hawk and he wore aviators against the noontime sun. The other was lean and startlingly familiar with a baby on his hip.

Rory parked and I threw open my door before he could come around. He got out too, then rubbed the back of his neck as I glanced from him to the other two men.

Very fucking famous men.

The leaner man—Ian fucking Kagan—held out his hand with a wide, affable smile. “You must be Rory’s Ivy. Now I see why he was so anxious to bring you along. Way to go, mate.”

I shook his hand mutely.

The little boy attached to him like a monkey rubbed his nose against his shirt. Ian didn’t seem fazed at all.

“Right. Um, yes. Kellan McGuire, Ian Kagan, meet Ivy Beck. The little one is Wolf.” Rory cleared his throat. “Guess you two met easily enough.”

Kellan shrugged. “Maggie is forever worried she’ll turn into one of those mothers who is late for everything so I’m perpetually early for every-damn-thing. Ian’s been super welcoming.”

“Talking shop is easy, especially when there’s a cute little rocker to break the ice.” Ian bounced a toddler on his hip. “Isn’t it, little mate?”

Surreal didn’t cover it.

A prickle of sweat teased between my shoulder blades. “Nice to meet you,” I said through gritted teeth.

Ian laughed. “Oh, man. This is priceless. I’m usually the one in hot water.” He caught the child’s flailing hand and lightly swayed back and forth like he’d been doing it forever. He was wearing paint splattered jeans and half laced boots caked in mud. A white thermal shirt was pushed up to show off well-toned forearms.

Ian Kagan.

Singer.

Famous brother of yet another huge rockstar, Simon Kagan.

“I’ll just…” Rory nodded to the car. “I need my guitar out of the boot.”

Kellan grinned. “My wife will be stoked that there’s another girl here—woman, sorry. Then again, she and Zoe have been bonding over babies and the like.”

Ian brushed a kiss over Wolf’s hair. “I can’t wait to have one just like it. Soon.” He danced lightly with the baby and started singing “Baby Shark.”

“Not that song.” Kellan groaned.

“I can’t help it, man. It’s infectious.” Ian’s eyes crinkled with joy as the kid babbled back at him, singing along.

“Oh, you’ll learn when you have to hear it thirty-seven times a day.”

I swallowed hard. Things were becoming all too clear regarding Rory. That flash of entitlement with the sheriff, the money, the strangely detached way he was with people—all of it made more sense now.

“Jam sessions are my favorite.”

“We are not doing ‘Baby Shark’.” Kellan’s voice was firm.

“We’ll see.”

I smiled at the two international rockstars and took my leave to rush around the car to where Rory had the trunk open. “Are you kidding me?”

He lifted out a guitar case and portfolio and set them on the grass. “I told you we were meeting my friends.”

“Friends? Friends are the guys you went to college with. Ian Kagan and Kellan McGuire aren’t just friends.”

“They are actually.”