Hard to Handle (27 page)

W
ITH
boisterous encouragement from the customers, Barber and his band went straight into a third song. Filled with satisfaction, Roger relaxed back against the wall. Jasmine Petri was a fine addition to the band. Now if he could only find some way to sign up Barber long-term, even if only two or three times a year.

“What are you thinking?”

Cam had approached without him realizing it, and he smiled down at her. “Evil thoughts, actually. You wouldn't approve.”

“Oh really?” Smiling impishly, she caught the knot in his tie and tugged him a few feet away to a more private alcove. “Let's hear it, Mr. Sims.”

For a while now, Roger had noticed that Cam positively glowed. He prayed it was happiness that made her even more beautiful, because her happiness was what he wanted most of all. “Barber has become such a commodity, I was trying to think of how I might tie him to the bar. Even if we only got him here for special occasions, it'd be a huge coup.”

“Why don't you just ask him?”

With a different approach already in mind, Roger smoothed back Cam's hair. Tonight she wore it loose and soft, and it turned him on. Of course, she could shave her head and it'd turn him on.

He laughed at himself. “Always the straightforward approach for you, huh?”

Cam nodded. “I've found it works best.”

Not when you wanted to tie down a rising star, but Roger didn't say so. “If that's what you think I should do, I'll try it.” First. And if it didn't work, then he'd resort to other ideas.

Pleased with him, Cam said, “Let's talk about it more before you make a move. I think we should figure out exactly what you want from Barber. Decide how often you can afford to have him here, and how seldom you'd be willing to settle for him. Come up with the price, the terms, everything. Then present it to him and see what he says.”

“He doesn't have an agent yet,” Roger pointed out, “and that amazes me, but it saves me from having to go through someone else.”

“Barber is a very down-to-earth person. I can't see fame changing that.”

“Me either.” Roger tugged her into a hug and heard her very faint gasp, then felt the way she tried to ease away from him. He levered back with concern. “What's wrong?”

Putting her hands over her breasts, she said, “I'm a little tender, that's all.”

Guilt crawled over him, mingling with desire. He asked low, “Was I too rough last night?” He recalled being insatiable, especially when she'd seemed more sensitive to his mouth, almost ready to come just from him sucking at her nipples.

That made her smile. “I loved it.”

Damn. Roger cleared his throat, but it didn't help the sudden restriction in his pants. Remembering made him hot, and made him want to do it all over again. Right here, right now. “You're sure?”

Instead of answering, she grinned, leaned to look around to assure their privacy, and then she said, “I was going to tell you tonight, but I don't think I can wait that long.”

His heart beat slow and hard. “What?”

“I hope you'll be excited.”

Imagining everything from awful to wonderful, blood rushed into his head. “Tell me.”

She bit her lip, grinned, and said, “I'm pregnant.”

The world closed in, Roger's vision dimmed—and then bright light exploded. “Pregnant?” He meant to shout, but it emerged as a very wimpy whisper.

Biting her bottom lip again and trying not to laugh, Cam nodded.

“Pregnant?” he said again, this time stronger, louder. “You're sure?”

“Yes.”

Every ounce of strength left him, and he sank to his knees in front of her. She was so…slim. Her belly was flat, maybe even concave. He held her hips and kissed her through her dress.

“Roger,” she whispered on a laugh. “Get up!”

He looked at her face, saw her blush; he loved her so damn much, he wanted to cry. “We're having a baby?” Damn it, he
was
crying. He pressed his face against her and held on.

Her hand in his hair, gently coaxing, Cam came down to her knees, too. “Yes, Roger. I'm not far along yet. I've only done a home test, but we can set an appointment with the doctor and he can give us a date.”

He crushed her close. “God, I love you.”

She cried, too. He heard it in her voice when she said, “I know.”

As quickly as he'd gone weak, Roger felt superhuman. On a laugh, he surged back to his feet and scooped her up in his arms, turning her in a circle, kissing her.

Cam smiled at him, wiped his cheeks. “I love you too, you know.”

“Thank you.”

That made her laugh. “Oh, Roger. You are going to be such a terrific dad.”

“I will,” he promised. “I swear to you, I will.”

Her smile trembled. “I don't have a doubt.”

Someone rudely brushed against them, almost knocking them over.

Roger regained his balance, furious even as he turned to see who'd been so rude. He saw a massive man muscling a path to the edge of the dance floor. He paused at the outskirts of the crowd and started searching the audience.

Oh hell. Furious, Roger quickly set Cam back on her feet. “Stay here.”

“Roger!”

Knowing how Cam felt about him getting involved in any physical altercations, he paused long enough to say, “I know, Cam. I promise I won't start anything. But this is my place and I—”

“Go.” She smiled, showing her trust. “Take care of business, but avoid a conflict if you can.”

“I will.” He moved away from her and approached the jerk who'd rudely elbowed them. “Excuse me.”

The guy glanced at him, then away. “Get lost.”

Roger took in the buzzed head, the outrageous tattoos, the scars, and the attitude. “I'm the proprietor here. Can I help you with something?”

Without looking at him, the man said, “You can fucking well leave me alone.”

More furious by the second, Roger narrowed his eyes. “I can have security here in two minutes.”

“Yeah?” The guy stared down at Roger, which made him pretty damned tall given that Roger stood six-two. “By then I'll have found Handleman, so why bother?”

Not intimidated, but hoping to avoid a scene as Cam had requested, Roger said, “If you'd like to wait by the door, I can find him and send him to you.”

“Don't bother.”

Just then Barber bounded off the stage. He helped Jasmine down next. While the other band members headed for the bar to get a drink, Barber led Jasmine toward the tables where Harley and Stasia sat with Dean, Simon, Gregor, and their wives.

The big bruiser bunched his shoulders and smiled, showing several missing teeth. “I already found him.”

H
E
came through the place like he owned it, elbowing people out of his way, a pissy look on his face.

Harley saw him right off. How could he miss him? While giving his attention to Stasia as she enthused on Jasmine's talent, he also kept track of the guy. He was built like a fighter, and he moved like a fighter, but Harley didn't recognize him.

Right behind the bully was Roger, and behind him, Cam. Wearing a furious frown, Roger spoke into a radio, no doubt calling security. Given the look on the man's face as he approached, Harley didn't blame Roger for anticipating trouble.

Harley figured it was about to come his way.

“Excuse me,” he said to Stasia, cutting her off in mid-sentence. He pushed back his chair and moved around the table to stand in front of the women.

Naturally, the other guys caught on quick enough, and they too got to their feet. The man approaching grinned in evil delight, and pointed one massively muscled arm at Harley with intent.

So stupid. More than anything, Harley hated theatrics. Usually it was the guys without enough talent who resorted to such idiotic antics.

Stasia stepped up beside Harley. “What's going on?”

Hoping to insulate her from the ugliness, he said, “Move back against the wall and stay there.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Too late, the guy halted in front of him. “Hard to Handle. 'Bout time I found you.”

Sizing him up, unimpressed with his ridiculous show, Harley asked, “And you are?”

“The guy who's going to break your fucking elbow this time.”

Harley cocked a brow. “Be specific, will you? Do you mean now, later, or what?”

“In the ring, you jackass.” His sneering gaze went to Simon. “Now that Sublime's run off, that leaves me and you.”

Simon and Dean came up alongside Harley, and they both looked deadly. Wishing they'd back off and let him handle it, Harley relaxed his stance. “As you can see, Simon hasn't gone anywhere. He's right here.”

“Yeah.” The guy's lip curled. “Because he's worried about his little buddy.” He laughed. “That's right. I heard that Sublime is training you.”

Damn, news traveled fast. But then, if the idiot arrived in town today and first looked for Harley at the gym, he probably would have heard the latest developments.

“That's the plan so far,” Harley said.

“It's not going to do you any damn good. I'm still going to destroy you.”

Simon laughed. “You and a shitload of steroids?”

The guy lunged forward, but Dean stepped in front of him, stopping him with a hard shove to his chest. “This is my brother-in-law's place, Kinkaid. Do
not
start any shit here or I swear you'll regret it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Can't be getting the place all messy spilling Handleman's blood, huh?” He retreated a step and glared at Harley with hatred.

Behind the men, the women clustered close in apprehension and dread—all but Dakota, who surveyed the scene with disdain.

Harley stepped forward, separating himself from the others. Kinkaid. So this was the man he would fight for the title. He was a big bastard, but also an idiot. “You say we're going to fight?” Harley shook his head, and told a provoking lie. “I've never even heard of you.”

“Because you've been off licking your wounds, Handleman, that's why. But I'm unstoppable.” Kinkaid thumped a boulder-size fist into his own chest. “I'm going to take you apart, and I'm going to enjoy doing it.”

“Right. If you say so.” Harley relaxed even more—to the point he knew he looked bored. “Now is there anything else you wanted before I get back to my company?”

So hot under the collar that his eyes bulged, Kinkaid screwed up his face. “What kind of chicken-shit talk is that?”

“I don't explain myself to morons. If we fight, I'll let my fists do the talking.”

“Not if, when. It's been decided.”

“You, my friend, have to pass a drug test first, and I've got my doubts on that score.”

Kinkaid leaned closer. Through clenched teeth, he said, “Maybe you ought to stop talking right now, get a little taste of what I have in store for you.”

Stasia said low, “Harley…”

And Kinkaid's gaze shot over to her. Malice lit his eyes and his mouth stretched into a mean smile.

Harley stepped in front of her. All signs of boredom were gone. “Don't even think about it, Kinkaid. You can't be that stupid.”

Kinkaid laughed. “Why not? You wanted to fight Sublime, so you fucked his old lady to goad him into it. Almost worked for you, too.” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe my luck will be better.”

Pandemonium exploded.

Simon let out a roar, Dean tried to restrain him, and Dakota threw a sucker punch to Kinkaid's crotch.

As the poor sap went down wheezing, she said, “
I'm
Simon's old lady, buster, and Harley
never
slept with me.”

Dakota hadn't pulled the punch at all, and Kinkaid hadn't seen it coming. She'd nailed him.

Eyes bulging and mouth slack in agony, the poor sap looked ready to puke, or pass out, or both.

Gasping, he said, “I meant before you.”

In a wide-legged stance, her hands still in fists, Dakota tossed back her hair. “I don't want to hear about anyone before me.”

Almost in slow motion, Simon pulled away from Dean. Vibrating with anger, he stepped in front of Dakota and pressed her back several feet. Looking like he wanted to say something, but was too furious to manage, he lifted her up, plunked her down in a chair, and leaned over her. He breathed hard.

“He had it coming, Simon,” Dakota said.

Simon opened his mouth, started to speak, and couldn't.

He was enraged. More than enraged. Everyone could see it.