“Why are you trying to make everything better between Kimber and me?” Deke turned his attention back to his cousin. “To make up for manipulating us? To get closer to the baby?”

Luc closed his eyes. “I deserved that. I…influenced you both to get what I want. I thought it was in everyone’s best interest, not just mine. Now, I’m trying to talk some sense into you purely for your own good. Like you said a few days ago, I regard you as a brother. You should be happy. You deserve it after all this time and shit.”

Deke swallowed. That was probably the nicest thing Luc could have said to him in that moment. He wanted to believe it. He almost did… “Thanks.”

At one o’clock, Kimber sat on the patio of her favorite deli. The area was shaded by live oak trees and bordered a quiet side street, which would help with privacy.

She plucked at the tank top wilting against her skin, hoping that the heat would ensure that if they were gawked at, it would be purely through windows in the deli’s cool interior.

Ten minutes later, Jesse pushed his way out the door and onto the patio. He turned and waved. Kimber frowned, until she saw a scowling Call through one of the windows.

“He insisted on being around, in case a crowd follows. He’ll stay inside, though.

This lunch is just for us. Damn, it’s hot!”

Jesse stripped off his checked collared shirt, which he’d worn over a wife-beater tee that shouted “Life Sucks” in bright blue letters and enough bling to blind her.

He didn’t remove his sunglasses.

Kimber sighed, then spotted the waitress coming their way with two glasses of water. “Everything here is good.”

The young woman in low-rise shorts pretended not to recognize Jesse while she took their order, but the way her body tensed with excitement and her eyes kept cutting in his direction…it was obvious.

“A turkey sandwich with sprouts and double cheddar on a baguette and a cola.

Sure, Mr. McCall.” Her voice was high and thin with thrill.

Trying not to roll her eyes, Kimber ordered egg salad on wheat and a side of fruit.

Then reluctantly, the waitress left them in peace. After a long pause, Jesse took a sip of water, then fingered the condensation on the exterior of the glass. “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

“This is the last time until you accept the fact we’re not getting married. What possessed you to make that announcement without asking me first?”

“I just thought…we’d talked about it before. You’re a good influence, and I don’t like where my life is going.”

“Then you change it,” Kimber suggested. “I can’t do it for you.” He looked at her over the tops of his sunglasses. Wounded, bloodshot eyes pleaded as he took her hands in his. “You can help me. I’m stronger with you. You make me want to be a better person.”

“You have to want to be a better person for yourself. Not having me around is just an excuse not to change your life. If you really want to clean up your act, fire Ryan.

He’s trying hard to make sure your life is every bit as screwed up as his. Stop the parties. Start listening to Cal. He might be gruff and dour, but he’s trying to prevent you from self-destructing.” While perpetuating Jesse’s bad-boy reputation, which would sell lots of CDs and iTunes downloads, but that was another story…

“I’ll do it,” he vowed. “See, you’re smart. With you, I can handle things.”

“You can also handle them alone. You have to.”

He tore off his sunglasses to reveal a tired, crestfallen face. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to help me. I behaved like a shit when you toured with me. I shouldn’t have fucked the blonde with Ryan. And the video…God, I felt so stupid. I’m sorry.

Really. It’s just…being near you made me crazy, but I didn’t want to touch you.

Every time I thought about it or tried, I felt like…a child molester or something.

Like I was going to ruin you, and you’re too innocent—”

“I’m not. Not anymore.”

Jesse froze. “The asshole on the phone, you gave him your virginity?”

“I fell in love with him, Jesse. I was in love with him before I came on tour with you. He did his best to push me away—”

“Sounds to me like he pushed his way between your legs,” he growled. “And where is he now?”

Kimber sighed. “Sometimes, things just don’t work out. Like with us.”

“Don’t say that. Come with me. We’ll take care of each other.”

“No. You’ll be fine without me. Just think smart. Do what you know in your heart is right. You got sucked into too much fame and money too young. What would your parents have wanted you to do? What do you want to be able to tell your children about this part of your life? Certainly not that you saw people snorting coke and having group sex in your hotel room. Or that you and one of your bandmates had anal sex with a total stranger. Do things you’d be proud of.”

“You’re really not going to change your mind, are you?” She shook her head. “I’m always available by phone or email. When you come through town, we’ll meet like old friends. I’ll always care.”

Looking sad, like someone had shot his dog, Jesse stood and made his way around the table, plucked her from her seat, and drew her into his arms. “You’re a special woman.”

Kimber smiled. Jesse covered it softly with his mouth. A kiss of friendship. Of good-bye.

Suddenly, an electronic whirr crashed into the quiet.

Footsteps—lots of them. Another electronic whirr. A flashbulb. Squealing girls.

Pulling away, Kimber blinked, stunned to find she and Jesse surrounded. A handful of photographers frantically snapped pictures. Young women looking barely legal jumped up and down, several proving themselves braless, as they stared at Jesse in worship.

“Can I have your autograph?” one asked.

“What are you doing here?” the waitress asked, horrified. “It’s supposed to be a secret!”

“I had to see him!” protested the fan with the autograph book.

“Are you really going to marry her?” Another female fan looked at Kimber with disdain.

Neither one answered.

The photographers kept taking shots of Jesse as he autographed the girl’s book and handed it back to her with a smile as phony as the huge gold loops dangling from her ears.

“Could you leave us alone?” Jesse said to the press. “We’re trying to have lunch here.”

“Answer the girl’s question,” shouted one reporter. “Are you marrying Ms.

Edgington?”

“I’m so sorry,” the waitress babbled.

Jesse ignored her and scowled at the photographers.

“You’ve had your pictures. There’s no story. Get the hell away from us.”

“Public property,” one quipped, then captured the shot of anger mutating Jesse’s face.

As if to underscore the point, more people wandered down the side street to investigate the growing crowd. The number of passersby swelled. The sound became a cacophony of voices and cameras. A van stopped a few feet away. One of the local news stations. Great. How had they received word so quickly?

Someone reached out to grab the shirt Jesse had draped across the back of his chair. She yelped with excitement and sniffed it. Actually held it to her nose and inhaled. Kimber could barely pick her jaw off the floor as Jesse reached out to grab it back, but she darted through the crowd. Other girls chased her, grabbing at the shirt, too.

Holy cow, how does he put up with this everywhere he goes?

Call appeared beside Jesse and murmured, “The crowd is only getting bigger. I think you should go.”

“How did they find out I was here?”

Call shrugged. “Probably the waitress. Doesn’t matter. This is going to get out of hand if you don’t leave now. You take the car back to the hotel. I’ll make sure Kimber gets home safely.”

Jesse looked pissed, as if he was being forced into a position he didn’t want and impotent to do anything else.

“It’s fine. It’s for the best.” She touched his arm in reassurance.

More cameras clicked, capturing the moment.

“Are you going to marry Ms. Edgington?” The pushy reporter asked again. “And what do you say about the entertainment industry’s prediction that marriage would ruin your career?”

“If he gets married, I’m not buying any more CDs,” one bitchy fan snapped.

“Knowing he’s tied himself to some other woman kills the fantasy,” Kimber overheard another girl telling the reporter. He ignored everyone and looked at Kimber with regret.

“You going to be okay?”

“You heard Cal. He’ll follow me to make sure I reach home safely. You get out of here before this turns into a bigger circus. Call me when you’re free and we’ll talk.” He sighed with acceptance, then whispered into her ear, “I really do love you.” In his one-sided way, she believed he did. But now it was time for him to stand on his own two feet, just like she’d have to do. “Take care.” Jesse kissed her cheek, and Kimber did her best to ignore the clicking of cameras.

Yikes, this was likely to be all over the front page. If it was…could it really hurt his image, his career? If so, that was yet another reason he’d be better off without a wife right now.

As he turned away, Kimber watched. He jumped the little fence and darted for his car. The horde followed him, cameras bobbing, girls screaming.

An eerie quiet settled over her and Call in his wake.

“That’s crazy,” she said as the last of the mass disappeared down the street.

“That’s showbiz.”

“Would people really stop being his fans if we married?” The whole idea seemed inconceivable to her. They either liked his music or they didn’t, at least in her mind.

“You heard it yourself. Most of his fans are women who see Jesse as the ultimate catch. If you’ve already caught him, they’re out in the cold. You ready to go home?” Call asked.

“Sure.”

“I’ll follow you, just to make sure no one else does.” Emotionless. Expressionless. Call was all business, all the time. Right now Jesse needed that. Kimber just hoped that he’d listen.

As they turned toward the parking lot, a sleek, black Maserati Spyder convertible zoomed past them, tires screeching as it turned out onto the main drag. Then Jesse was gone. Probably forever, and she could live with that. They each had their own lives ahead of them. And his would be what he chose to make of it.

CHAPTER 20

Kimber curled up on her bed in the fetal position, her pillow bunched beneath her head, and tried to drift back to sleep. No luck—and no wonder. Her life could make a soap opera look tame these days. Love triangle, check. Surprise pregnancy, check. Possible psycho-stalker, check. Gosh, throw in a good catfight or aliens from outer space and she could rival any daytime diva’s dilemmas.

Lack of sleep, no surprise there. True, she’d been tired most of the day, a symptom of pregnancy, she’d heard. She sighed. In a few days, she’d see the doctor, have them confirm everything, give her a due date, explain what would happen over the next nine months. Then she’d have to tell her family. Kimber cringed at the thought of Logan’s and Hunter’s reactions.

Turning over, she punched her pillow, wrestled it under her a bit more. Why wasn’t this position any more comfortable than— Tap, tap, tap. Pause. Whoosh.

What the hell was that? Those noises were totally foreign, and seemed to be coming from her living room. Yes, it was her first night back at her apartment, but Kimber had lived here long enough to recognize the usual sounds. None of those fit that category.

The people above her had kids who usually ran around until close to eleven. The newlyweds next to her had sex every night—at least once—and she could hear their bed banging against the wall every time. But this sound… It was subtle. Like someone trying to be quiet.

In fact, it sounded a whole lot like someone forcing one of her windows open.

Easing out of bed, Kimber got to her feet, nervously grabbing her cell phone off her nightstand with a damp palm and smoothing her tank top over her jumpy stomach with the other. She approached the hall, intending to investigate the odd noise when she heard footsteps on her hardwood floors. Soft footsteps, like someone creeping slowly. There was no mistaking the sound.

On bare feet, she whirled and darted into her closet and eased the door shut.

Then she dialed 911 and whispered her address quickly. The operator wanted her to stay on the line and wait for the police.

The ever-closer footsteps let her know that waiting around for the cavalry wasn’t an option. She was going to have to defend herself.

Suddenly, she was damn glad for every self-defense skill her brothers had insisted she master, every time they’d roped her into being their martial arts sparring partner, and every male endurance/fighting/general toughness contest they had put her through.