“Gives me an excuse to practice my CPR. So nice of you to volunteer your soft and tasty lips.”

When he leaned closer, she halted his seeking lips with a hand in his face. “Easy there. Do I look like CPR Annie to you?”

“Not at all. But if it will make you feel better, I can close my eyes and pretend.”

Actually, she was already feeling better. She didn’t need to pretend. Eric Sticks was like a refreshing breeze, blowing away all the clouds that insisted on blotting out her sunshine. Too bad she still had her heart set on Trey.

Chapter 5

Stomach protesting its emptiness, Eric opened the small refrigerator and hunted for something edible. There was one good thing about losing their previous bus. All the suspicious-looking, past-their-expiration-date condiments had been replaced with new bottles. Unfortunately, Eric’s secret stash of hot dogs had not. Neither had most of the beer. The stuff currently stocking the fridge looked suspiciously like vegetables and raw meat.

Eric leaned back and waved a hand at the refrigerator. “What’s up with the food? Where are my hot dogs?”

Jace rose from the booth around the dining table and stood beside him, his brow crumpled with confusion. “Are those vegetables?”

“Looks like it.”

Trey and Brian came to stand in their little huddle before the open refrigerator door. The four of them stood there staring into the fridge as if assessing a piece of modern art for

deeper meaning.

“Wait. Is that… cauliflower?” Brian asked, reaching in and poking the package of cauliflower as if he expected it to bite him.

“Sed!” Trey called to Sed, who was driving the bus in Dave’s absence. They’d already decided they needed to hire a new driver as soon as possible, but this arrangement would work for now.

“What?” Sed called from the driver’s seat.

“Do you know anything about the vegetables in the refrigerator?”

“Jessica says I need to eat better.”

“So putting this stuff in the fridge makes her think you’re actually going to eat it?” Trey asked.

“I guess.”

“Did she forget that none of us can cook?”

“I can stir up some scrambled eggs,” Eric said. It was the one thing he knew how to cook. And they could be flavored with just about anything. He enjoyed trying new spices. Perhaps nutmeg and sage this time.

Eric reached for the carton of eggs.

Jace karate chopped his wrist, and Eric’s fingers went numb. “Step away from the eggs, Sticks.”

Eric might have complained, but Rebekah giggled at his expense and his concentration shattered. He glanced at her sitting in one of the captain’s chairs with her feet curled beneath her. Her mismatched socks barely showed from beneath the ginormous sweatshirt she was swimming in. The faded red garment must have once belonged to a four-hundred-pound linebacker. She’d insisted that she was cold when he’d teased her about wearing it earlier. She was already so goddamned adorable, and that huge garment made her seem even more petite. He suppressed the urge to sweep her into his arms and bury his face in her neck. And lose his hands inside that baggy sweatshirt to see if her pert ni**les were hard again.

“Maybe there’s a frozen pizza in there,” Brian said, opening the freezer. He leaned in for a closer inspection. “Chicken? Why is there chicken in the freezer?”

“Jessica’s idea,” Sed called from the driver’s seat.

“I thought she was supposed to be a smart chick,” Trey said. “Does she really think we’re going to eat this complicated stuff?”

“She is a smart chick. She’s marrying me,” Sed called.

Eric and the rest of the guys busted out laughing. “That proves she’s dumb as a post.”

Sed stomped the brakes, and his four bandmates ricocheted off each other like bowling pins. Eric sobered immediately; memories of wrenching metal, fear of death, and agonizing pain in his ankle took all the humor out of the situation. He’d limped for days after the bus accident, but all things considered, with the exception of Dave’s injury, they’d been lucky.

Rebekah untangled her legs from beneath her sweatshirt and slipped between the guys to peer into the fridge. “I can probably throw something together.”

Brian’s head swiveled in her direction. “You know how to cook?”

“I’ve been in the kitchen a time or two.” She smiled at them.

When her eyes fell on Trey, he turned and moved to the front of the bus. He leaned against the dashboard, crossed his arms over his chest, and struck up a conversation with Sed. Eric saw the pain in Rebekah’s troubled eyes before she covered it with a bright smile. “Go sit down, guys. I’ll make dinner.”

Rebekah’s eyes opened wide when Brian grabbed her in a crushing embrace. “Thank you.” He planted a kiss on her temple and squeezed her enthusiastically, swaying side to side with glee.

Eric wedged an arm between Brian and Rebekah. “What about Myrna? Sheesh!”

Brian released Rebekah, looking puzzled. “What do you mean? It’s all Myrna’s fault in the first place. She’s spoiled me so much with her cooking that I don’t think I can make myself eat the usual crap we consume on the road.”

So Brian was just thinking about keeping his stomach happy? Eric wasn’t sure why Brian’s hug and platonic kiss pressed all his jealousy buttons. Maybe because Rebekah looked so pleased about it. Did she have a thing for Brian too? Lots of chicks wanted the Brian/Trey combination. Maybe that’s why she’d freaked out in the storage unit earlier. Maybe she’d wanted to be the filling in a Brian/Trey sandwich, and Eric had been the wrong kind of bread.

Eric’s heart skipped a beat when she gripped his right hand in both of hers.

She looked up at him, a twinkle in her blue eyes. “You’re going to help me, right, Eric?”

“Help you?”

“Yeah. You can cut vegetables and stuff, right?”

Not exactly. He grinned regardless. He doubted he was capable of telling this woman no. “Sure.”

Rebekah rummaged around in the refrigerator to take inventory.

Eric couldn’t take his eyes off her ass as she bent at the waist and sorted through ingredients. He stood directly behind her, imagining his c**k buried in her warm, slick depths. Her smooth, naked skin beneath his fingertips as she allowed his exploration. His possession. Her warmth against his thighs as he thrust deep. Deep. So deep that his balls pressed against her. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides to prevent himself from grabbing her and showing her the effect that little wiggle of her hips was having on his thoughts and his fly. It was probably a good thing she had that baggy sweatshirt on. If he could actually see her slim thighs and the division between them, his fist-clenching would have done little to keep his hands off her. She backed up unexpectedly, and her luscious little ass bumped into his thighs. He didn’t have the mental faculties to take a step back. Instead, his arms slid around her hips and pulled her closer. She stood upright.




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