Primal Instinct (14 page)

Roman's phone buzzed and he glanced down at it, a half smile on his face as he swiped his finger across the screen.

“Colt?” she asked, toying with the tuner keys of her guitar.

He shook his head. “Nah. Woman from Tinder.”

She scoffed out a laugh. “Tinder? Come on, big guy. I think you can do better than that.” She shot him a meaningful look. “You're not going to find what you're looking for on Tinder.”

“Oh, yeah? And just what am I looking for?”

“Something real.”

“You don't know the first thing about me, sweetheart.” A darkness had crept into his eyes, but it didn't deter her.

“You and I are a lot more alike than you might think.”

He barked out a laugh. “I doubt that.”

“Just hazarding a guess here, but I'd be willing to bet my favorite guitar that you like to be in control, but being in control means keeping a tight leash on all those pesky emotions.” She arched an eyebrow at him. “Am I close?”

Roman shifted in his seat, but didn't say anything, just met her gaze with his.

“I think you're scared to let people in. So you keep everyone at arm's length with the jokes and the screwing around. You want everyone to think you're having fun, but under it all, you're unhappy.”

He sat back and extended his arms over the back of the sofa. Making himself bigger. His smile didn't reach his eyes. “Like I said. You don't know the first thing about me.” He pushed up off the couch and headed for the bathrooms at the front of the studio. She hadn't meant to strike a nerve, but she also couldn't help but wonder if she would've spun so far out of control if someone had called her on her shit sooner.

She picked at the acoustic guitar in her lap, her notebook open on the seat beside her. She strummed gently through the E-A-B chord progression she'd been working on, fine tuning the rhythm and setting it to the lyrics she'd had spinning through her mind for a few days now.

She took a breath and launched into the chorus, strumming harder, her eyes closed, eyelids glowing a soft orange in the tinted light.

“That's really pretty,” said Colt from several feet behind her, and she jumped, dropping the guitar into her lap. The strings squealed as they scraped against her fingers, and she swallowed around her heart, which had leaped up into her throat at the surprise of hearing Colt's voice.

She blew out a breath as blood rushed to her cheeks, and she wondered if he'd heard the lyrics and, if he had, if he knew they were about him. She pushed her hair out of her face and turned to look at him.

For a long, shimmering second, their eyes connected, and the rest of the room dropped away. Her body tingled with awareness, and everything slammed into her like a rapid-fire montage, not of scenes, but of snippets of image and sound, smell and taste. Colt's naked body against hers, his hands roving over her skin. The fluttering of her heart in her chest. His scent. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. The way her skin warmed at his touch. All of it melded together in a kind of cinematic bang, and she swallowed thickly.

Colt rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I need to talk to you.”

She gestured for him to sit down on the couch beside her, pulling her guitar back into her lap.

“I think you have a stalker.”

Her heart dropped from where it had set up camp in her throat to her stomach. “Really?”

Colt nodded. “I went to the flower shop, and I convinced them to let me take a look at the security cameras.” He paused, shaking his head slightly. “You remember the guy from the Rainbow, the night we…met? He's the one who sent you the flowers.”

“Shit,” she whispered, her stomach churning, its contents feeling like concrete.

“His first name is Ronnie. I've got my PI buddy Clay on it. He's seeing if he can use the image from the security camera footage and the first name to track down who this guy is.”

“So that's it? We just wait?”

“Nothing much else we can do right now, gorgeous.” He moved closer on the couch and pulled the guitar gently away from her. “But I can promise you this. I won't let that creep get anywhere near you.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold everything together. After a second, she let out a shaky laugh. “When it rains, it pours, eh?”

“You talking about your dad?”

She nodded, chewing her lip.

“I'm having Clay look into him, too. We'll figure out what's going on. Come on. You wanna go home?” He stood and offered her his hand. She stared at it for a moment, absorbing the strong, thick fingers and wide palms, the slightly rough texture of his skin and shivering at the memory of how fucking fantastic those hands had felt on her skin. In her hair. In her.

Her eyes once again met his, and in a gesture that felt much bigger than it looked, she put her hand in his and let him help her off the couch. She quickly gathered her things and watched as Colt briefed Roman, who was going to lock up behind them. Something tightened and then instantly melted in her chest at the easy familiarity with which Colt moved through her space. He took her hand again, slipping his fingers between hers as he led her toward the Charger, his eyes scanning the empty parking lot and the street. His grip tightened on her hand almost imperceptibly, but he kept his stride steady. He opened the passenger door for her, and once she was tucked safely inside, he strode around the car, dropping into the driver's seat and hitting the door locks.

“We're being watched.”

She looked around the parking lot and out at the street. “What makes you say that?”

“That exact same van was parked near your house this morning. The studio's in a completely different neighborhood than your house. What are the odds that the exact same van would be both in front of your house this morning and in front of your studio right now?”

Taylor's pulse sped up slightly. “How do you know it's the same van?”

“Same plates.”

He turned his key in the ignition, the Charger's engine roaring to life. “Let's see if they follow us.” Surprising her, Colt pulled smoothly out of the parking lot and onto the road.

“I thought you would've gunned it,” she said, staring into the side-view mirror.

“If he is following us, I don't want him to know that I know.” He glanced over at her. “Countersurveillance one-oh-one. Besides, the last thing we want is to get involved in some kind of car chase. That's pretty much the opposite of keeping you safe.” Instead of heading for the freeway, Colt took a winding route through the city, through dense traffic and a seemingly endless stream of traffic lights. “He's definitely following us, but he's at least two lights back now. I'm going to make a sudden right, and then accordion my way up to the freeway. He'll think he lost us, and not the other way around.”

True to his word, with a glance in the rearview mirror, Colt swung the Charger into the far right lane and made a sharp right, accelerating as he zipped through turn after turn. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, and Taylor watched through the side-view mirror for any sign of the van as her heart hammered in her ears.

“I…I think you lost him,” she said, settling back into her seat and trying to wrestle her thoughts into some kind of coherent order. First her dad had texted her out of the blue, then had shown up at her door, maybe more than once. And now there was the additional threat of the stalker. Had
he
been the one to sneak around the outside of her house? Was he the one who'd been following them just now? Or was the tail related to her dad and whatever fucking mess he'd gotten himself into?

Questions without answers. And the only certainty she had in all of it was that Colt would keep her safe.

K
araoke at the Brass Monkey was exactly the distraction Taylor needed after the day she'd had. At first, Colt had tried to talk her out of coming tonight, but she'd been looking forward to seeing her friends, and she needed the stress relief of a night out. Eventually, he'd agreed but had insisted on bringing Roman along to keep things under control, if need be. Although it wasn't impossible, it was very unlikely that her creepy admirer would try anything in public with security around.

“You okay?” Sierra hooked an arm around Taylor's waist and gave her a side hug as Colt scouted the place out and Roman secured them a table. “You've been quiet.”

“I'm just tired. It's been a long day, but don't worry. I'll rally.” She didn't want to talk about everything weighing on her: the album deadline, her unsettling attraction to Colt, the news of a potential stalker, and her dad's sudden reappearance. Normally, she'd tell Sierra everything, but she didn't have the energy. Not tonight.

Her eyes roamed over the bar, taking in the upbeat atmosphere, and a warmth spread over her when her eyes found Colt, several feet away, his eyes on her. Wearing a khaki-green Henley shirt, worn jeans, and beat-up boots, he looked rugged, sexy, and perfect. His five-o'clock shadow was starting to come in, highlighting his strong jaw and full lips. He smiled and displayed his perfect white teeth, the skin around his eyes crinkling.

“Oh, shit.” Sierra smacked Taylor's arm, jolting her. “You have a
thing
for him.”

“I…we…” Taylor scuffed her toe on the floor, avoiding Sierra's gaze.

Sierra's eyes widened. “Ladies' room. Now.” She took Taylor by the elbow and began leading her through the bar. Meeting Colt's eyes, Taylor tipped her head in the direction of the bathrooms, and he nodded. Taylor silently prayed that Sierra wasn't mad at her, or hurt that she'd shut her out.

The second the door whooshed closed behind them, Sierra turned on her, her arms crossed. “You. Spill. Everything.” Her green eyes blazed, and Taylor knew she was at least a little pissed.

Taylor opened her mouth and the entire story came spilling out. The one-night stand, and then Colt turning up as the bodyguard hired by the label. Her dad. The stalker. Her undeniable attraction to Colt and her jumble of feelings for him. She let out a long breath once she finally finished talking. “So…yeah. That's what's been going on with me.”

“Wow.” Sierra gave Taylor's shoulder a squeeze; any anger she may have felt seemed to have disappeared. “That's…wow. How are you feeling?”

Taylor shrugged, lowering her voice as another woman entered the bathroom and headed for a stall. “I don't even know. It seems to change from hour to hour.”

“What do you want?”

“That's the thing. I know what I want. I just don't know if I have any right to think I could…” She sighed heavily. “I thought Zack was that guy, you know? At first it was just fun, but it turned into something a lot more than that. At least, it did for me. I'm scared of putting myself in that position again, of thinking I've found this great guy, giving him everything I have, and letting him rip my heart out.”

Sierra squeezed her hand. “Zack led you on, and that wasn't fair of him—”

Taylor didn't let her finish. “But I'm the one who broke the rules. We agreed, upfront, that we were casual, no strings. I'm the idiot who fell in love with her fuck buddy. And I can't go down that road again. I can't leave myself open and exposed and stay whole when it doesn't work out.”

Sierra leaned against the tiled wall. “I don't know him. I only know what Sean thinks of him, and what you think of him.”

“And Sean thinks he's an asshole.”

Sierra shrugged. “Pretty much. But there are two sides to every story. Have you asked Colt about it? About his side?”

Taylor shook her head. “No. It hasn't come up.”

“You should ask him. I…I don't think you should ignore your feelings for him.”

“Why not?”

Sierra laid a hand on Taylor's cheek. “Because you light up like Christmas when you look at him. How do you think I picked up on the fact that something's going on between you two?” Sierra took her arm and began leading her out of the bathroom. “For what it's worth, Zack didn't make you light up that way. So regardless of Colt's bad history with Sean, there's something there.”

As they made their way through the bar, a group of obviously tipsy girls took the stage and began half-shouting, half-mumbling their way through TLC's “No Scrubs,” and Taylor smiled. This was the Brass Monkey at its best. Unpretentious and welcoming, with awesome drinks, greasy food, and a huge songbook. Even though it was relatively early, the bar was nearly full, with people crowded around the small wooden tables. Most of the walls were exposed brick, with a few sections of wood paneling, including the makeshift stage adjacent to the bar.

“Hey guys!” Taylor and Sierra both spun just as Chloe Carmichael ran up to them, her arms open, a huge smile on her face. Her gorgeous light brown skin glowed, her thick cinnamon-colored hair bouncing in loose waves around her shoulders. She flung her arms around her friends just as the final member of their group, Alexa Fairfax, appeared in the doorway, another bodyguard accompanying her. Alexa was adorable, with her tiny frame, blond curls, and perfect nose. She was also by far the biggest celebrity in their group. Her family, the Fairfaxes, were one of the most famous families in Hollywood, on par with the Barrymores or the Fondas. But even though she was the most famous, she was also a sweetheart, always wanting to make her friends happy and, as far as Taylor was concerned, putting others before herself far too often.

Roman waved them over to a table near the back, and several heads turned toward them as they wove their way through the crowd. However, the Brass Monkey was known for its star sightings, and they weren't the only celebrities in the bar. On the way to their table, Taylor noticed a very famous comedian, a world-champion boxer, and a former
Friend
.

The waitress came by and took their drink orders, and as Chloe filled them all in on the details of writing and producing her first movie, Taylor found her eyes scanning the crowd until she picked out Colt. He stood against the wall several feet away, chatting with someone else who was clearly a bodyguard, with his suit and no-nonsense expression. She watched Colt's hands as he talked, gesturing animatedly, telling a story. He talked with his hands a lot, she'd noticed. It was cute.

Chloe elbowed her, drawing Taylor's attention back to her.

“Are you gonna sing?” she asked, flipping through the songbook, a stack of song request slips beside her, and a pencil poised between her fingers.

Taylor had been about to reply that she just wanted to watch when the idea of showing off for Colt snapped through her, actually making her sit up a little straighter.

Looking at him, she knew she couldn't turn off how she felt about him. The attraction was a big part of it, sure, but there was also the sense of safety she felt whenever he was around. The sense that someone had her back and was looking out for her. She liked how she felt around him, both in the wanting to “shove him onto a bed and have her way with him” way, and the…other way. The “can't stop writing songs about him” way.

She peered down at the songbook, but before she could make a decision, Sierra cleared her throat, her green eyes bright. “So, uh, I have some news to share,” she said, licking her lips. Taylor, Chloe, and Alexa all looked at her expectantly. Slowly, Sierra pulled her hands from her lap and held her left one up in front of her, wiggling her fingers. An antique-style diamond ring glittered on her ring finger. Chloe and Alexa both gasped, and Taylor grabbed Sierra's hand.

“Uh, excuse me, but is this what I think it is?” she asked, studying the ring and pushing down the tiny surge of jealousy tightening her chest. God, she'd been so caught up in her own drama earlier that she hadn't even noticed it.

A huge smile sprung up on Sierra's face, and she nodded quickly. “If you think it's an engagement ring, then yes!”

Chloe squealed and pushed up out of her chair, gathering Sierra in a hug.

“When did he propose?” asked Alexa, just as the waitress returned with their drinks.

“Last night. I knew we were headed down that path, but I wasn't expecting it this soon.” Sierra and Sean had been together for nearly a year, and Taylor was willing to bet no one was surprised. Sierra and Sean were crazy about each other.

“Okay, so tell us the story. How did he propose?” Alexa leaned forward expectantly, her eyes bright.

Sierra's face reddened and Taylor slipped an arm around her, pulling her in close. “Aw, you guys. I think they were naked.”

Sierra laughed, pressing a hand to her cheek. “Maybe.”

“You don't have to give details. We just want the broad picture.” Alexa smiled reassuringly, and Taylor wondered if Alexa and Chloe were as weirdly happy-jealous as Taylor was, or if it was just her own messed-up reaction.

“Uh, well. We've been, um…working on christening the new house. And we were in the, um—” she cleared her throat and took a sip of her drink “—kitchen. On the island.” She took another sip of her drink and rushed through the rest of her story, not pausing for breath. “So, we, um, did, you know, our thing, and then he said a bunch of romantic stuff and asked me to marry him and I said yes, and he pulled the ring out of a drawer in the kitchen.”

Chloe clutched her hands to her chest. “Aw! I love that. What romantic stuff did he say?”

“You don't have to tell us if you don't want to,” said Alexa, giving Sierra's arm a squeeze.

Taylor snorted. “Yes, you do. Spill it.”

“He…he told me I was the most incredible, beautiful, amazing woman he'd ever met, and that not a day goes by where I don't make him feel like the luckiest man alive. That he loves me, more than he ever thought he'd love someone.” Sierra sighed, looking down at the ring. “Then he said he wanted to spend every single day of his life by my side, loving me. And he asked me to marry him.”

Alexa's eyes shone and she sniffled. “I hope I find that someday.”

Chloe pulled her in for a hug. “You will, babe. You're still young. Tons and tons of time.”

After a few more minutes of mushiness, they moved on, and thank goodness, because Taylor wasn't sure she could've handled much more. She was already in a weird, off-kilter mood, and while she was happy for Sierra, the news of her engagement was only adding to Taylor's funk. Which was messed up and selfish, but true nonetheless.

“Sean's not coming later?” asked Chloe, standing to go hand in her song-request slips.

“No, he's working tonight. Virtus just landed a contract with the Dodgers, so he's in heaven. Don't feel too bad for him.” The dopey smile she got every time she talked about him stretched across her lips. Sierra was called to the stage, and the crowd cheered her on as she wove her way between the tables.

The opening strains of “Ice Ice Baby” pumped out of the speakers, and Sierra picked up the mic, smiling sweetly. The girl couldn't sing to save her life, but she had surprisingly good flow. From her spot at the table, she saw Colt watching as Sierra rapped, mustering up as much swagger as a white girl from Pasadena could. He smiled, and Taylor had to admit that Sierra was pretty adorable up there, nailing the lyrics.

Glancing again at Colt, Taylor began flipping through the pages of the songbook. Normally, she let her friends have the fun, not wanting to hog the spotlight or steal anyone's thunder. But not tonight. No, she felt like showing off tonight.

After agonizing over her song choice, Taylor finally submitted her slip, stopping to take pictures with a few fans on her way back to the table, and she could feel Colt's eyes on her the entire time. When she took her seat, she couldn't help but notice how cozy Chloe and Roman looked as they talked in a corner of the bar, Chloe's body angled toward him. Before the flirting could progress any further, Chloe was called up to sing Whitney Houston's “I Wanna Dance With Somebody.”

Taylor pushed out of her seat and stalked across the bar, tapping Roman on the arm once Chloe was out of earshot. He tore his eyes away from Chloe, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Don't hit on my friends, Roman.” Taylor shot him a stern look.

He laughed, clapping his hands together. “Get uglier friends.”

Exhaling a sharp breath, Taylor shook her head. Whatever. They were adults.

Colt had retreated to his spot against the wall, and she caught his eyes as she sat back down. He smiled that perfect, slightly cocky, eye-crinkling smile, and her stomach exploded into a thousand tiny, fluttering butterflies.

She'd felt sure about her song choice before, but now she was second-guessing it. Maybe it was stupid. Or cheesy. Or desperate. Or obvious. Or an achingly embarrassing combination of all of the above.

But it was Heart, and she knew she could sing the hell out of it, which was the main reason she'd chosen it. Not because it was a song about giving in to the lust and passion between two people. Nope. Not because of that.

Chloe finished her song, and a group of rowdy guys celebrating a bachelor party got up to sing Queen's “Another One Bites the Dust.” The waitress came back with a fresh Jack and Coke for Taylor. Maybe the alcohol would help numb the turmoil of emotions churning through her.

She listened to the conversation at their table, chiming in when appropriate, but letting Sierra and Chloe do most of the talking. Between Sierra's engagement and Chloe's movie, there was a lot to discuss. Finally, the DJ called Taylor's name. As she rose from her seat, the bar filled with hoots and hollers, everyone cheering her on. Including Colt, she noticed, and the butterflies fluttered in response. She hopped up onto the stage and picked up the mic, falling into familiar and comforting behaviors.