Under the Lights: A thrilling, second-chance romance duet. (Bright Lights Duet #1)

I frown. “What does that mean—”

“You need to keep an eye on Molly,” he interrupts, an angry edge in his voice. “Better than you’ve been doing.”

I look over at her sitting on the bed with her arms crossed, pouting. “What happened?”

He presses his lips together before answering. “Nothing yet, but if what I heard is true…” His hand clenches into a fist, but he quickly releases it and turns to the door. “Let’s just hope it isn’t.”

“I don’t understand—” But he’s out the door again, striding down the dark passage.

“Get cleaned up and get out here. We need to rehearse.”

Frustration lines my brow, and I feel a headache starting. I turn to Molly, who takes one look at me and jerks away, facing the back wall. I cross to my dressing table and dig through the drawers for my makeup remover cloths. I make quick work of cleaning up between my legs, toss them in the trash, then pull on a fresh pair of panties.

Out of nowhere, tears heat my eyes, and my stomach twists at how unfair my life is, how I desperately want to be with Mark doing anything we want anytime we want. He wants to be with me… At least that’s what he says, and I want to believe him.

We could build a life together.

We could grow together in happiness.

I’m tired of being responsible for another person all the time, and how can Roland order me to do something, scare me like that, and not even explain?

Life isn’t fair.

My mind bitterly responds, who said life was fair?

I press my fingers against my eyes until I see white sparks behind my eyelids. Then I take a deep breath and stand up straight, looking at Molly in the mirror. She’s still straining as hard as she can to position her entire body away from me, so I go to the bed and take her hands.

“Don’t,” she says trying to pull them away, but I hold them tightly in mine.

“I’m sorry about what you saw. Me and Mark.”

She tries to pull her hands away again, but I hold her.

“I told you I didn’t have feelings for him, and I do.” I look down and release her as the tears threaten my eyes again.

“I knew it,” she says as if it’s some great reveal.

I go to my dressing table. Standing beside it, I run a finger down the outline of my brush. How I want to be with Mark. Instead I inhale a deep breath and let it out.

“Roland says you’ve got to stay close. No more flirting, and that includes Guy.” Her description of that mystery man makes me shudder.

“I might as well be living in a convent.” She kicks a pillow off the bed and lays down hard on her side.

I go to her. Roland hasn’t given me any reason to forbid her to see Guy. I’m only following my gut. “Please just do what I say. I don’t like it any more than you do, but we have to trust Roland and be careful.”

“You don’t want me getting caught?” Her green eyes snap to mine. “Like you?”

“Just work with me, Mol. I’m trying.”

“You’d better try harder.”

I can’t argue. I know Mark and I have been reckless, and we have to stop. I can’t simply do whatever I want.

As much as it’s breaking my heart.





Mark


When I was fifteen, Mrs. Peterson, who lived in our neighborhood hired me to do her lawn.

Dad was gone all the time gambling all our money away, so I took the job. She was a widow, and I told myself we needed the money, ignoring the way she ran her eyes over my body and licked her lips when I said okay.

The first day I was supposed to cut her grass. Instead, she met me in the garage and said she had something special for me. I’d never had sex. I’d only jerked off to porn, so when she dropped to her knees and started sucking me off, I grabbed the side of her car and held on for the ride.

She pulled and tugged, moaning and carrying on as if I were a three-course dinner and she was starving. She took me all the way to the back of her throat until she coughed and gagged, then she did it again. My eyes rolled, my knees buckled, and I shot down her eager throat so hard I saw stars. I cut her lawn that day, and I came back the next day to trim the hedges.

Mrs. Peterson won Yard of the Month in our neighborhood three months straight, and I learned all about what women like. After that summer, she moved away.

I wasn’t heartbroken. I was never in love with her. It never hurt me to leave her arms. It was good sex, but I didn’t dream of her body when we were apart.

Walking away from Lara each day is like ripping out my insides and leaving them at her feet. Watching her walk away and not being able to kiss her, touch her, tell her I’m serious about making a plan, is like repeated kicks to the stomach. Every night, I lie in my bed and dream of her beautiful body.

Terrence is gone and until January I have this place to myself. With her voice, she could take a job singing at any club in the city. Right now she thinks walking away to be with me is too great a risk. It’s a leap of faith because our incomes are tied up in the same place, but I’m going to show her I can take care of her and Molly. I’m shit out of luck on job prospects at the moment, but I’m saving. I’m going to prove we can do it. She can walk away with me, survive, and still accomplish her dream.

“Fitz,” Gavin’s voice breaks my thoughts. “Report to the basement club immediately after the show tonight. You’re my doorman and guard.”

He hands me a clip of money. “Get some better clothes. Nice shoes. You work for me now. I want you to look like it.”

Turning the clip in my hand, I see several hundreds, and my mind drifts to my plan. “Yes, sir.”

I take off into the city, and I barely make it back in time to climb the narrow ladder before the finale begins. It’s more of a challenge in leather Gucci loafers as opposed to heavy boots, and I’m amazed Lara does it every night in those stilettoes.

She’s already at the top, and when she sees me, her eyes widen. “I thought something had happened to you,” she says, running to me.

I hold her at my side, touching her gently, not at all like I want. I want to pull her into my arms and hold her close, tell her I’ll always be here. But I can’t get her body glitter all over my fucking suit.

“Don’t be afraid,” I say, tracing the pad of my thumb lightly along the top of her cheek.

“Why are you dressed like this?” She quickly scans my dark suit and pale blue dress shirt.

I adjust my tie with a wink. “It’s my new uniform. Like it?”

“You’re very handsome.” Her chin drops, and she bends an arm to cover her breasts. “I feel underdressed.”

That makes me laugh, and I step closer to nuzzle her ear with my nose before kissing it. “You are the sexiest thing in this entire theater.”

She responds how I like, a little shiver, a tightening of her fingers. I attach the safety harness and check it to be sure it’s secure. She takes her seat in the swing.

“The way you’re dressed…” Her beautiful blue eyes are worried. “Are they sending you away?”

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