Rock Chick Rescue (Rock Chick, #2)

Then Mom spoke and my attention swung to her. “Hey dol face. Don’t worry, Eddie and me introduced ourselves.

I’m making him eggs.” She threw one of her gorgeous smiles at Eddie then her eyes turned back to me, “You want coffee?”

Mom was standing at the counter, her wheelchair positioned by the table. She’d put on a lilac t-shirt dress that had peach flowers embroidered on the v-neck. It was essential y a modern-day muumuu. It was easy to put on because, if she stood up, gravity did a lot of the work and it was stretchy so she could shove her bum arm through. It was simple and inelegant, but with her coloring, it looked smashing on her.

“Thanks Mom. In a second.”

My brain was beginning to kick in and worry was starting to envelope me.

I turned to Eddie and said, “Can I talk to you a minute?” I didn’t wait for him to answer, just turned around and walked into the living room. I heard him fol ow me.

I needed somewhere private to talk and looked around.

The living room was no good, Mom could hear (and she’d be listening, for certain). The dining room was part of the living room and I couldn’t take him to Mom’s bedroom.

I sighed huge and took him to my room.

My room was boring. My old apartment was part of a big Victorian mansion that had been sliced up into apartments decades ago. It had al sorts of wonky rooms, wood floors and I’d made the most of it with fun little knickknacks, Christmas lights covered in flowers, that kind of stuff. I hadn’t had time to make this new space fun, not only my room but also the entire apartment, al my old stuff was stil in boxes in the corners. The space was boring and depressing and, looking at it through what I imagined were Eddie’s eyes, kind of embarrassing.

He fol owed me into the room and didn’t even look around. He was watching me.

“Can you close the door please?” I asked.

He did as I asked and when he turned back to me, I launched in.

“Listen, Eddie, Mom doesn’t know Dad’s in town and I don’t want her to know. They don’t get along and it’l just upset her. In fact, I don’t want her to know any of what’s been going on. She had a stroke eight months ago and I don’t want her troubled with this. If she knew about al this stuff, she’d be worried sick, her blood pressure would get out of control and I don’t even want to think….” I paused, not wanting to get upset, took a breath and finished, “So you can’t say anything.”

I waited to argue, for him to tel me I was wrong or being unfair or that I should warn her or to disagree with me in some way but instead he said, “Al right.” I blinked at him.

“Al right?” I asked.

“Yeah, al right,” he repeated.

I stared.



He was far more awake, his hair was stil messy but it suited him (in a big way) and he was watching me closely.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“Nope,” he answered.

I knew it. Here we go.

“Okay then, what?”

He took a step toward me, pul ed me into his arms and kissed me. It was a serious kiss including tongue; no brush on the lips this time and there was absolutely no need for a do-over.

It was delicious.

When he ended the kiss and started to lift his head, I pressed my fingers in his hair at the same time I went up on tiptoe, my mouth fol owing his. I didn’t care if it seemed needy or greedy, al I knew was, I wanted more.

He made a noise that sounded an awful lot like a groan and he kissed me again, walking me backwards, his mouth on mine. He shifted us and we were fal ing onto the bed, him on his back and me on top of him. We bounced, our lips disengaged and I was about to say something, trying to cut through my Eddie Daze, when he flipped me on my back and rol ed over on top of me.

He wasn’t messing around, it wasn’t play, this was serious stuff. We were ful -on necking and groping; mouths, tongues and hands everywhere. It was unbelievably fantastic. Al of this was leading somewhere and I wanted to go there. I wanted it bad.

Al of a sudden, he pul ed his mouth away and tucked my face into his throat.



“Eddie?” I whispered against his skin, confused at the quick change and not liking it (at al ).

“Your Mom. My eggs,” was al he said.

Damn! I total y and completely forgot.

Furthermore, if I kept this up, I’d be late again for Indy.

I was the worst daughter in the world and the worst employee in the universe. If I didn’t sort al of this out soon, I’d be out of two jobs and Mom and I would be living on the street eating cat food out of tins with our fingers.

I jerked away jumping off the bed but Eddie grabbed a handful of my nightshirt and yanked me back.

“Hang on there, Chiquita,” he said and I came off my feet and landed in his lap.

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