Feel the Heat: A Contemporary Romance Anthology

HM: Come now or forever hold your peace.

“Stop grinning at the phone and go. You’re making me sick.”

Deacon leaned over and pressed a kiss to Jazz’s forehead. “What are you going to do around here without me, Pix?”

“If the rest of them are still breathing when you get back, let’s count that as a win.”

Deacon crouched in front of her. “Maybe you should get away for a while, too.”

“What? And leave all this?” She waved around the room. Purple and red Christmas lights framed the huge bay window that looked down on the Hollywood Hills, with its wild mixture of green and desert. Huge L-shaped couches framed the room, making the living room ideal for practice as much as it was for relaxation. Guitar cases littered every corner, as well as a keyboard, cowbell, drumsticks, and a half dozen amps that formed a semi-circle around the Christmas tree stuffed in the corner closest to the window. In the middle of it all were his kettlebell weights for workouts. Jazz was forever banging on them no matter how many times he took them away from her.

They’d downsized in a big way, yet this place felt far more like a home than the penthouse ever did.

Deacon tugged a lock of her hair. “We’re just getting our bearings, Pix.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighed and flashed a bright smile his way. It wasn’t full Jazz wattage, but it was better. “Go.” She unfolded her leg and pushed him in the shoulder with her foot. “Have fun. Don’t think about us for a whole week. And if you call and check on me, I will ignore every call and text.”

Deacon grinned and stood. “I think I might be otherwise engaged.”

This time her grin was a little truer. “I just bet.”

He headed to the door. With one last look over his shoulder, he slung the huge duffel over his shoulder as well as the small overnight bag Harper had packed.

They needed this time away. He missed spending time with Harper. Between the late night sessions at the studio and her crack of dawn schedule, they’d done little more than reach for each other in the dark.

He tucked the bags into the beater of a truck they both shared, hopped in, and backed out of the circular driveway. He kept it in low gear as he made his descent onto Mulholland, which brought him back toward the city. Deacon liked living on the outskirts of Los Angeles. He could think, and he could run every day. Two of the things he’d thought were near impossible when they’d been in the heart of L.A. He dug under his seat for the GPS, tossing the bean bag base onto the dash. He’d helped bring supplies to the catering job so he had a good idea where he was going, but the hills were a damn maze.

Ten minutes later, he pulled into the side drive of a multi-million dollar house. Only in Hollywood could you have a servant’s entrance be as nice as a middle income home. He parked and waved at Annie. She was loading fat plastic bins into the back of the Sweet & Savory truck. He jumped out to help, but she waved him off.

“Please take her or I’m going to kill her.” Annie gave him a smile that was all teeth—mean ones.

Deacon pushed his hair out of his face and rubbed the back of his neck. “That good?”

“I don’t know what her problem is, but good luck on the honeymoon, dude.”

Deacon tipped his head back. Things will be fine. You just need to get her out of here and away from work. He rolled his shoulders and straightened. He went inside and found the kitchen.

Organized chaos greeted him. One of Harper’s minions was at the sink taking care of dishes, another organizing leftovers, and then there was his wife…she was slamming trays into the portable bin. The only sounds in the kitchen were of the packing variety.

Which was unusual in itself. Usually Harper had music going and people chattering away.

Oh, boy.

He went up behind her and when she jammed the tray for a third time to get it into the slot, he covered her hand and gently lifted it so I would fall into place. Instead of melting back into him like she usually did, she shrugged him off.

“I had it.”

“I’m sure you did, but let’s save the tray from annihilation.”

She whirled in his arms. “Are you here to pick at me, because I do not need this right now, big guy.”

Well, at least the ‘big guy’ had been in the middle of the snarl. That he could work with. He opened his mouth and she pointed at him.

“Do. Not. Handle. Me.”

He shut his mouth. He looked over her shoulder at her workers who were studiously pretending not to stare at them. He caught the girl’s gaze at the sink and jerked his head toward the back door. She turned off the sink and gestured to the other worker and they both lifted bins to take outside.

“You didn’t just send my people outside, did you?” She turned around. “Where are you going?”

The brunette froze.

Evelyn Adams, Christine Bell, Rhian Cahill, Mari Carr, Margo Bond Collins, Jennifer Dawson, Cathryn Fox, Allison Gatta, Molly McLain, Cari Quinn's books