Mr. Rockstar (4 page)

Preston shrugged.
“Just that Isabelle isn’t exactly the kind of woman who attracts men. And you live far away.” He looked at Marvin speculatively. “I bet you live near Ian. I suppose her brother sent you here to take her to the wedding.” Preston smirked.

The look raised Marvin
’s hackles. “Yes, Ian and I are friends. I’ve admired Isabelle for a while now.”

“
Uh-huh,” Preston said.

If I make it through this dinner without punching him in
his asshole face, it’ll be a miracle
, Marvin thought.

“
You look like that guy, from that band,” Tonya suddenly blurted out.

Ah shit.
Marvin shook his head quickly. “Yeah, I get that a lot,” he said, noncommittal. “They say everyone has a twin.” He hoped she’d buy his lame explanation. From the look on her face, she was growing less confident that she knew him. Good.

“
It’s a pity you live so far from Isabelle. She bakes a great chocolate cake,” Preston said, urging Tonya toward the country club. “That’s why she’s so pudgy.”

What the—? The nerve of the man.
Marvin growled under his breath. “Could’ve fooled me. I think she’s perfect, not pudgy.” He strode ahead, removing temptation from his view. He really, really wanted to deck Preston. He really did.

Three hours later Marvin’s head pounded unmercifully. He’d been grinding his teeth all night. Every time Preston opened his mouth to speak, he said something offensive to Isabelle, women in general, or humanity at large. He was such an ass. He couldn’t believe Todd was still friends with the guy, because Todd was a nice person. He clearly adored Fiona. The only thing Marvin could conclude was that Todd was still looking at Preston through high school nostalgia-colored glasses. Even Todd’s parents looked irritated at things Preston had said at one point or another during the course of the dinner.

“
Do you think we could go out for a walk or something?” Isabelle asked, leaning against his arm. “My head is killing me. And I already gave my speech, so I doubt I’ll be missed for a little bit.”

“
Gladly,” he murmured back, already pushing out his seat.

“
Isabelle, where are you going?” Fiona asked, leaning over the table with a glass of wine in her hand. Her eyes were bright with a combination of joy and tipsiness.

Marvin shook his head. He really couldn
’t blame her for being clueless about Isabelle’s discomfort. It was her rehearsal dinner and she just wanted to spend her time enjoying herself. The part that sucked was how invisibly Preston managed to fling his insults. Even though he could barely keep from punching the guy, Marvin was extremely glad he’d come. He’d managed to deflect or laugh off most of the shitty things Preston had said, keeping him away from Isabelle as much as possible. She didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Surprisingly, Preston’s date, Tonya, didn’t seem to mind being treated like a doormat.

“
I need a little air. I won’t be long,” Isabelle told her friend.

Fiona
smiled as she looked Marvin over suggestively. “Air. Uh-huh. Sure, have fun!” She winked at them.

Unfortunately, Preston overheard the exchange.
“Oh please, Fiona. They’re not even really dating. He just flew out here because Ian begged him to.”

Marvin growled, standing abruptly. That was a little too close to the truth for him. He
’d only known Isabelle for a few hours, but she shouldn’t have to put up with this. “Shut it, Preston. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Isabelle grabbed his arm, digging her fingers in.
“Let’s just go.”

“
You don’t know her favorite color. You have no idea what she likes to read. I bet the two of you haven’t even kissed.” Preston’s face twisted into a triumphant sneer.

Really? Are we all in seventh grade now?
Marvin wondered. He took a deep breath and let it out, calming himself so he wouldn’t do something he’d regret. How could a grown man act like such a child? It didn’t make sense. Even the most snide and underhanded assholes he’d dealt with in the music industry weren’t so blatantly insulting. He sighed, noisily. “Preston, you have no class,” he said clearly, then he snagged Isabelle’s hand and escorted her out of the building. He ignored the approving looks from Fiona and Todd’s family as they worked their way through the dining room. He was just grateful no one seemed to recognize him.

“
Oh my God, I thought you were going to punch him,” Isabelle said when they made it onto the patio. “Preston had no idea how close he was to getting his insides rearranged.”

Marvin
tugged her to the far end of the patio where a bunch of large, potted trees shaded them from view. “I wanted to, but it would bruise my playing hand. My hands are my career,” he said dramatically, trying to lighten the tension still thrumming through him.

Isabelle chuckled.
“Well, we can’t have that, can we? Deprive the world of Vin’s music? Horrible.”

He
smiled as he leaned back against the side of the building, taking in the woman in front of him. Isabelle’s red dress flared around her full hips. Her hair was long and silky and just right for sinking his hands into. And even though she was painfully shy, she’d managed the rehearsal dinner like a pro: giving a speech, joking with the guests, and ignoring Preston with admirable willpower. He took another deep breath, this time for an entirely different reason. Isabelle was a hell of a woman, and she had no idea how attractive he found her. He watched her rub her temples, sighing tiredly through her smile.

Making a quick decision when he saw her shoulders droop a tiny bit, h
e tried to pull her into a hug. She resisted. “Hey, it’s okay. I could use a hug after all that bullshit,” he reassured her. After a slight hesitation, she melted into his arms. Just as he’d thought, she fit perfectly against his body. She was soft and curvy and abruptly his dick sat up and took notice. He shifted slightly, hoping she couldn’t feel his erection against her hip. He started tapping on her shoulder to the rhythm of one of his older songs. They both needed the distraction.

“
Yeah, I kind of need a hug, too,” she murmured. “The dinner went okay, but I’m exhausted.”

“
Preston is kind of a dick,” he said.

She coughed
into his chest, obviously amused. “Yeah.”

“
Why the hell did you date such a loser?” he asked. He couldn’t help it. She was lovely and intelligent and he knew a hundred guys who would jump at the chance to ask her out. Dating Preston didn’t make any sense.

Isabelle shrugged.
“He was available. And it was easy. He was already Todd’s friend.” She laughed bitterly. “And it wasn’t like any other guys were lining up to ask me out.”

“
That’s crazy.” Marvin snuggled her closer. “Guys can be so dumb.”

“
Apparently I give off ‘I’m a snob’ vibes.” She used air-quotes to emphasize her point.

“
Who said that?” he asked, then answered his own question. “Wait, don’t tell me. Preston?”

She nodded.

Anger surged up all over again. Inconveniently, it didn’t do a damn thing to get rid of his stupid erection. “Preston is a douchebag of the highest order.”

“
He may be, but like I said, no one else was lining up to ask me out. The few guys I worked up the nerve to ask to dinner turned me down. Eventually, I got the message.”

She sounded so forlorn
that Marvin’s heart gave a disturbing lurch. “That makes no sense. You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman.”

She shrugged as if she didn
’t believe him.

“
Isabelle.” He tipped her chin up. In the darkness, her eyes gleamed. “I like you. A lot.”

“
You
have
to like me. I’m Ian’s sister.”

Her words made him angry.
“That’s stupid. I may have come here because of Ian, but if you’d been awful, I sure wouldn’t have stuck around. I’m not that selfless.” He ran a finger along her cheek. “And I sure as hell wouldn’t do this.” He leaned down and touched his lips to hers.

****

Isabelle gasped, shocked to her toes. His mouth was warm and sweet and he smelled divine. She didn’t know whether to swoon or pinch herself. Instead, she just stood there and reveled in the heat coming off his body, wondering if she was dreaming.

“
Hey.” He lifted his head and quirked up an eyebrow. “It’s customary to kiss back.”

She tightened her fingers on his arms numbly. He felt disturbingly real.
“You kissed me.” Her whole body tingled as her senses finally caught up with the situation.
Oh my God, Vin Clementine just kissed me!

“
Yeah. And I’m going to kiss you again,” he said, voice low and sensual.

God, no wonder women go crazy for his voice
, Isabelle thought dimly as she hung onto him. If he hadn’t been so solid, she would have fallen. He bent down again and kissed her again, gentle and coaxing. She gasped and finally responded, trying not to tremble so much that it all went to hell.

“
Yeah, that’s it,” he murmured into her skin. “You taste so good, Isabelle.”

She shivered, hands kneading his biceps. A sudden, horrible thought struck her.
“You’re not just doing this because you’re my fake boyfriend for the weekend?” she asked suspiciously.

He leaned his forehead on hers.
“No. Why do you think I maneuvered us behind the plants? First kisses should be private.”

She glanced across the patio and then back at him, even more overwhelmed than before.
“Oh.”

“
Yeah, oh,” he said, dipping down again. This time the kiss wasn’t gentle. Wasn’t coaxing.

Isabelle shuddered and kissed him back,
still hardly believing it was happening.

He
moaned softly, then his tongue touched her lip, seeking entry. “Let me in, beautiful Belle.”

She opened her mouth and he swept inside. She wound her arms around his neck, coherent thought fleeing as she hung on for dear life. He kissed her like there was no tomorrow, no wedding, no thousands of miles that separated them in real life. He kissed her the way a man kisses a woman he can
’t stay away from. He gathered her up, hands on her hips sliding to her ass. When she felt the heat of his erection, she trembled. She’d never been kissed like this before.

“
Marvin, what are we doing?” she whispered when he finally let her up for air.

Once again, he rested his forehead on hers.
“I stopped thinking about five minutes ago, so really, I have no idea.”

She laughed.
“This is crazy. You live in L.A.”

He sighed heavily and stepped back.
“I know.”

Isabelle touched her lips, feeling suddenly cold.
“We should go back in.”

“
Isabelle—” he began to say, but she cut him off, ruthlessly suppressing her arousal and the ridiculous sense of hope his kisses had brought out of her. She couldn’t afford to feel this. Any of this.

“
No, it’s okay. Really,” she said, touching his hand. He looked at her skeptically. His skin was still burning hot. She forced herself to let go. “You’re only here for a few days. We should go back in.”

He looked like he was going to say something, but then he pressed his lips together and nodded.
“After you.”

Isabelle slowly moved out from between the greenery, trying not to feel as though she
’d broken something precious.

Chapter Four

The morning sunlight slanted across Isabelle
’s forehead, hot and insistent. She groaned and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. After she and Marvin went back into the party the previous night, she’d drowned her sorrows in way too much champagne. Now she was paying the price. Her head ached abominably.

“
This is your own damn fault,” she muttered to herself, rolling back over. She blinked into the light, then squinted at her clock. Ugh. Seven o’clock. She was supposed to be at Fiona’s parents' house at nine to start getting ready. The wedding didn’t officially start until afternoon, but they were supposed to be getting their hair and makeup done early.

“
Just get up,” she said aloud to the soft peach of her walls. Her room stared back at her, unmoved. “Dammit.” She groaned and forced herself out of bed. Her head hurt like hell.

After a long, hot shower and a couple of aspirin, she felt marginally better. She sipped her coffee and tried to remember what had happened after Marvin dropped her off at her apartme
nt. She recalled the drive back when she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder, but nothing else.

I drooled all over him and he just laughed as though it were no big deal.
She blushed into her mug, embarrassed all over again.
Well, that’ll take care of any future kissing
, she thought. Drooling on Vin Clementine? Unforgivable. Thousands of rabid fans across the world would make fun of her if they only knew. Whatever. It didn’t matter. He lived across the country anyway.

Even so, what happened after that?
She vaguely remembered him helping her into her room and onto the bed, but how did she get her dress off?

Isabelle sucked down more coffee, almost burning her mouth.
God, I hope he didn’t undress me!
She glared at her table, futilely trying to remember. Nothing came to her. Damn. She got up and headed to her room. She’d woken up in a t-shirt, but had no memory of putting it on. She’d taken it off on the way to the shower, stumbling and squinting. She looked around. Still tossed across the chair where she’d left it when she headed into the bathroom was the soft t-shirt she’d worn to bed.

She narrowed her eyes. Wait
a second—that wasn’t her shirt! Isabelle stalked closer. She thought she’d been wearing her favorite sleep shirt, but when she lifted it up, Vin Clementine’s latest concert graphic was splashed across the front. She lifted it to her nose…
holy mother of God, this is Marvin’s shirt!

She sank to her bed, head reeling.
He must have undressed me and tucked me in.
She glanced at her nightstand. There was an empty glass on the surface.
He’d made me drink some water, too.
She dropped her face into her hands, totally humiliated. Unfortunately, she had no time to wallow in her misery. Before she could wrap her brain around what happened, her cell phone rang.

Isabelle glared at it. The device buzzed innocently next to the water glass as if she had nothing better to do than answer it. She sighed and snatched it up. She didn
’t recognize the number, but swiped her finger across the display anyway. “Hello?”

“
Isabelle, oh good. You sound a lot better.” Marvin’s smooth, sexy voice wasn’t in the least diminished by the small speaker. “I was worried about you.”

“
Oh my God, you undressed me!” she blurted out, then clapped a hand over her mouth.
Oh my God, I’m such a twit.
Mortified, she sank down onto her rumpled bed.

He chuckled.
“Not really. I helped you with your dress and then put the shirt on over your bra. I like the beige cotton, by the way.”

Isabelle wished the floor would swallow her up.
“Uh—”

“
Anyway, keep the shirt. It’s a gift. I was just calling to see what time I should pick you up later?”

She took a deep breath and told herself to start acting like a grownup. He didn
’t seem in the least affected by her underwear, anyway. “I have to go to Fiona’s in a little while. The wedding is at two.”

“
I’ll meet you at the wedding venue. Around one thirty? Will that work?” he asked.

Isabelle bit her lip, hard. Did he have to sound so damn gorgeous? How could his voice affect her this way? She squirmed a little on the bed.

“Isabelle?”

“
Yeah, okay, let me give you the address. And this is where Fiona’s parents live.” She rattled off the details, twisting her hands. “I’m supposed to ride to the wedding in the car with Fiona. You can always follow if you’d rather do that. I know the rest of the family not in the wedding party will be following behind us too.”

“
Sounds like a plan,” he said, then paused. “You okay? You sound a little breathless.”

Isabelle made herself breathe more quietly, angling the phone away from her mouth. Could she help it if hearing his voice made her heart leap a little?
“I’m fine. Just, you know, my head is still a little achy.”

He chuckled warmly.
“I bet. Mine was a little touchy too and I only had a couple glasses of that stuff.”

“
Um, thanks for getting me home okay. I’m not usually like this. I promise,” she said, needing to set him straight. She’d hate it if he thought she drank like that all the time.

“
Belle, honestly, it was no problem.” His voice went lower, more intimate. “Besides, I could never have fallen asleep if I wasn’t absolutely sure you were safe.”

Oh my gosh,
she thought, tingling. “I’m fine. Really, Marvin.”

“
Yes, you are,” he said, voice low and soft.

Isabelle felt her skin go hot as she clutched at the phone like a lifeline.

“See you later,” he said. After a brief pause during which she couldn’t make her voice work, he hung up.

Isabelle stared at the phone in her hand.
What just happened?

By three o’clock, Isabelle was certain Marvin was flirting with her. Even though he’d kissed her last night, she thought he understood: with her living here in eastern New York and him living thousands of miles away in Los Angeles, there was no way they could be anything to each other.
And I’m not exactly comfortable with the whole fame thing, either,
she thought, crouching down and rearranging the train of Fiona’s dress for the hundredth time. They were standing in the receiving line after the ceremony, thanking everyone for coming. The reception would start in an hour, and instead of being totally in the moment for her best friend, Isabelle was daydreaming about her fake boyfriend.

He looks so good in his suit,
her traitorous brain whispered. She glanced over at him lounging against a tree, out of the crowd of people. He wore a sharp black suit with a dark brown shirt that made his eyes look so green she couldn’t believe no one recognized him as Vin Clementine, rock-star. He smiled at her, slow and sexy, and she flushed, frustrated. The magenta dress she had to wear made her look like a giant strawberry. Blushing wasn’t helpful, at all. She flashed him an irritated look, but he just smiled wider, no doubt knowing exactly what she was thinking. He had an uncanny way of reading her, despite their short acquaintance.

Preston, on her right, made a disgusted sound under his breath.
“Who would wear brown with a black suit like that? Is the man color blind?”

Isabelle frowned.
“I don’t think it’s any of your business what he wears, Preston.”

He rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know why your brother bothered to send him here. It’s not like you need an escort to the wedding.”

She stared at her ex, simultaneously amazed and disgusted.
Her life was very much none of his business anymore. Even so, she couldn’t help wondering how he’d figured out exactly what was going on.
And also, can he be any more offensive?
She glared at him as he shook the hand of Fiona’s cousin, smiling that smarmy grin of his. Ugh. She forced herself to look away. “My life is none of your business, Preston. You lost any say in what I do the moment you put your hands on another woman,” she finally retorted under her breath at him. She smiled stiffly as an older lady stepped up to shake her hand. “Thank you for coming, yes. Fiona looks great, doesn’t she?” The woman moved on.

“
It’s just a wedding. You don’t need a fake boyfriend.” Preston cast an eye over her. “That dress really doesn’t suit you at all, you know.”

Isabelle had to laugh. He just didn
’t give up, did he? “Were you always this obsessed with clothing? Who cares how I look? This is what Fiona wanted.”

He wrinkled his nose.
“You should have refused. You look terrible.”

“
No she doesn’t,” Marvin said, smoothly taking Isabelle’s hand. He gave Preston a neutral look, then ignored him completely. “Looks like the receiving line is done.” He smiled. “Why don’t we go in? We can stop for a drink and then head out to the back gardens.” He gestured toward the old Victorian house where Fiona and Todd had chosen to have the reception. The wedding ceremony had been in the rose arbor in the front garden, and now the guests were heading inside for cocktails.

Isabelle nodded.
“Sounds like a plan.” She took the arm he held out to her gratefully, ignoring the burning weight of Preston’s glare on her back.

“
Wow, that man is a piece of work,” Marvin muttered. “You look lovely, by the way. You’d look lovely in a piece of burlap. Wearing the dress your best friend wanted for her wedding is all that matters.”

Isabelle shrugged.
“I look like a strawberry. I smell like a strawberry, too, but I don’t care. It made Fiona happy.” She grinned at him. “They even put strawberry flavored gel in our hair, so I think I taste like a fruit, too.”

He stopped and looked down at her. Isabelle almost tripped, but his arms held her steady. She
’d expected him to laugh at her quip—instead his eyes were hot. She swallowed, and then someone bumped into them and the spell was broken.

“
Isabelle! Come help me with my dress,” Fiona called from just inside the house. “I need to pin up the train.”

Isabelle turned a wry smile on Marvin.
“Give me a few minutes.”

He lifted her hand and kissed the back.
“I’ll look for you.”

She flushed again as the warmth of his lips lingered on her skin. He squeezed her fingers, then sauntered off, looking supremely comfortable, even in the midst of a crowd of people he didn
’t know.

“
My God, if I wasn’t married, I’d snatch him right up,” Fiona whispered in her ear.

Isabelle laughed.
“But you
are
married now, Mrs. Braaston.” She let Fiona tow her toward the first floor parlor set near the bathrooms, smiling and nodding at the guests they passed on the way. Once they were in the room, however, Fiona pounced.

“
Okay, who
is
he? He’s gorgeous! I almost died when you brought him to the dinner last night. The look on Preston’s face was classic.” Fiona twisted around, gathering up huge swaths of white fabric. “But he looks weirdly familiar, for some reason.”

“
Here, give it to me,” Isabelle said, tugging the train free. “You’re going to wrinkle it.” She dropped to her knees and began buttoning the train to the back of the dress, lifting the length of fabric up to a manageable level so Fiona could walk and dance and sit without tripping.

“
Don’t go silent on me now. I know you said he was one of Ian’s friends, but you never even told me you were dating again! That’s just not right. You’re not supposed to keep stuff like that from your best friend,” Fiona said, finally standing still.

Isabelle sighed, working another row of buttons into their corresponding loops. Her knees ached from kneeling on the hardwood floor on top of scratchy tulle.
“We’re not dating. He’s just a friend. Ian’s friend.”

“
That man does
not
look at you like a friend would.” Fiona fidgeted, pulling the fabric out of Isabelle’s hand. She tugged it back.

“
Hold still, I’m almost done here.” She buttoned another row. “And he
is
just a friend. I swear.”

“
He was looking at you like you were a piece of fruit he wanted to bite into,” Fiona stated. “Or maybe lick. A lot.”

Isabelle choked.
“Fiona!”

“
You can’t deny it.” Fiona pulled away and put her hands on her hips, looking down at her. “He got the hots for you.”

“
It doesn’t matter.” Isabelle refused to meet her eyes. “He lives in California, remember?”

Fiona
’s expression softened. “Oh. Well, that sucks.”

“
Yeah,” Isabelle said, suddenly really upset. She blinked, and stood up, straightening out her skirt. She loved Fiona, truly she did, but she couldn’t wait until this day was over. The crowd of people pressed in on her, making her want to run away. She glanced into the hall. Marvin had disappeared.
Just as well,
she thought.
I need a minute to calm down.