Beautiful Crazy Part 11

Kevan made a gagging noise and laughed. "Does that ever work?"

"Every time." He looked directly at her with his chocolate-colored eyes. His rock-star persona dropped again as his face filled with genuine sincerity. "Promise you'll be careful."

"I promise." She winked and smiled, attempting her sa.s.siest grin. "I promise you don't need to worry about me getting my heart broken again. Especially by some bossy, know-it-all suit. Now let's get on the road to the exciting metropolis of...where are we going next?"

He threw his arm around her and pulled her toward the door. "Medford, baby, we're going to Medford."

Chapter 11.

Back in the RV, Mason's blood still boiled. The surprise visit from his vice president had led to a nasty confrontation. He'd promised Kevan a fair fight. How was that possible if Steve Revell was checking up on him? f.u.c.king board of nosy f.u.c.king directors.

And where the f.u.c.k is Kevan anyway? Probably still with Jax.

Mason made a half-a.s.sed attempt to read his emails, but his mind kept drifting back to Revell and the show tonight, then back to Kevan. He should go find her and convince her to jump back into bed with him. The need to drive out his anger and aggression was all consuming. Sitting back, he ran a hand over the top of his head. No, he should do the honorable thing and stick to their hands-off agreement. And not drag her into his dark anger.

Honor blows. Was his frustration over Steve's surprise visit or something else? Someone else?

In his fractious state, he wondered if she had ever spent a night or two in Jax's arms. Not that it was his business, but the thought of her with him, or with any other man, made his stomach turn and his brain hurt.

This must be what jealousy feels like. And, yeah, jealousy sucks too.

He needed to f.u.c.k Kevan Landry again. There was no other way he could justify his behavior. He was p.i.s.sed about work and the board interfering with his deal. But more than that, he craved Kevan with an insatiable hunger. Despite everything going on with Manix and GEM, all he could think about was his primary goal that night: Kevan.

His whole life had been a series of identifying and achieving goals. He discovered something he wanted, determined the value, and then devised a plan to get it. And he had always succeeded. Until now. Now everything was different. When the h.e.l.l had he ever waited for anything? Work. Women. Never.

Frankly, he was already tired of waiting for the band and even more exhausted by his own impatience and constant desire for that d.a.m.n woman. Watching the way she affected other men only made the sting sharper. Silly as it sounded, it was like she walked around with a spotlight shining over her head. He either needed to move the f.u.c.k on or get her back into his bed. And soon.

While musing on his l.u.s.t for the brunette with the blue streaks, a message with an earlier time stamp caught his attention: Mason, The chairman requested I notify you that he has tasked Steve Revell to act as President of Talent Development. He is overseeing your current responsibilities at the corporate office and abroad while you pursue your current project. In that capacity, he has taken an interest in your activities. He has made arrangements to attend your event this evening and suggests you schedule time to meet with him and formulate your plan for acquiring the contract for Manix Curse.

Best regards, Simone Talley Executive a.s.sistant to Steve Revell So his former VP had been promoted to president of the artist division and was somehow Mason's boss now? What the f.u.c.k was going on? Mason wished he'd read the email before that blowhard had shown up at the club and tried to snow Joe with his smarmy bulls.h.i.t. He hoped he'd chased him off for good, but when he'd threatened to fire him for interfering with his deal, Revell had laughed. Dared him to give the chairman a call. Frankly, the last thing he needed was Revell's interference. Not with Dan, the h.e.l.lfire event rep, coming to see Manix play the next night in Medford. So Mason had sent him on his way with a threat of censure.

The squeak of the motor home door got his attention, and the real source of his dis...o...b..bulation walked onto the RV and into the kitchenette.

"Ready to go?" she asked with an upbeat lilt to her voice. Was that courtesy of Jax? One more a.s.shole's teeth to kick in.

"Go?"

"Leave for Medford. Ben says any time."

"Could you go up front and let him know we're ready?"

When she returned, Kevan filled a gla.s.s with water before sitting across from him.

"I'm sorry," they both started at the same time. Then she laughed, her voice as shaky as the hand gripping her gla.s.s.

He smiled. "Ladies first."

"Look, I got a little carried away." She ran her purple-tipped finger around the top of the gla.s.s, watching like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. "The music gets me amped up, and I forget how to behave sometimes. It won't happen again."

He should be relieved, really. Getting involved with her while they were on the road made everything much more complicated. He didn't like complicated. Remember? He liked simple, honest, professional. Or, boring, as Kevan would call it.

"Promise?" he teased.

"Of course," she snapped. "I'm sure I can manage to keep my hands off you."

"Whatever you say," he said, looking back at his computer screen, closing out GEM's email server. He didn't need Kevan learning his bosses had sent his protege to undermine his progress. No telling how she'd take the news.

"What the h.e.l.l does that mean?" Her glare made him want to smooth the lines on her forehead.

With his mouth.

"It means we made a deal, and I'll keep to it. Unless..."

"Unless what?" She scrunched up her nose and tilted her head.

"Unless, maybe you'd like to break that part of the deal." He held her gaze, his tone even, not wanting to give away his plan.

"What part? I'm not giving up on my band." Her face flushed with the telltale sign of a woman ready to do battle. Yeah. He wasn't going there, today. The RV was too small, and maybe her aim had gotten better.

"I just meant...oh, never mind."

"What? Say it." Her voice was husky.

"I thought maybe..." He started praying the warmth he felt creeping up his neck didn't show as a blush. Because he didn't blush. Not ever.

"What?" She got up and rinsed her gla.s.s in the sink. As she leaned her fine a.s.s against the counter, the bus stopped short, sending her into Mason's arms with a grunt.

"I got you, darlin'."

She looked up into his eyes, her face so serious, and said, "This time you do, don't you?"

He nodded and cleared his throat. "I'm starting to get used to you landing on me."

Kevan's lush body perched on his lap like it was custom-made to fit him. On impulse, he almost asked her to dinner on their first day off. Maybe it was best not to.

"I bet you are," she said. G.o.d, the feel of her in his arms felt so f.u.c.king right as images of their bodies entwined flashed through his mind. He almost moaned when she looked away and struggled back to her feet, her a.s.s wriggling right over his suddenly attentive c.o.c.k. f.u.c.king h.e.l.l.

When she sighed and yawned, Mason reluctantly allowed her out of his hold.

"I need to get to ready for bed."

Minutes later, she emerged from the small bathroom wearing a faded, holey Reverend Horton Heat T-shirt and sweats cut off at the knees. She'd wrapped her hair up in a knotted handkerchief and removed all her makeup. With the protective layer of paint gone, her skin glowed. Her freckled face looked young and sweet.

He couldn't win. She had stunned him in her tight pinup dresses, but standing there without makeup, she devastated him in her sweats and grubby T-shirt. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to strip her of her cute pajamas and fill her with his c.o.c.k, brand her with his come, show her what she was doing to him.

Instead, Kevan moved toward the side bunk and said quietly, "Good night, Mason." Then she pulled aside the bunk's curtain and ducked inside.

He shut down his laptop, walked over to her bed, and bent over her bunk to brush a chaste kiss across her cheek. "Good night, darlin'."

He lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, tortured by images of Kevan asleep a few feet away. It drove him crazy listening to her toss and turn mere feet away from him. He'd have to wait until she fell asleep so he could take matters into his own hand, so to speak, and relieve some of the pressure she'd created. Sometime later, his mind finally shut down, and he drifted off to sleep.

Close to dawn, the tour caravan pulled into Medford. All three vehicles lined the rusted fence surrounding a small armory-tonight's venue-next to a row of military vehicles resembling props from a war movie. After a fitful night of punching his pillow into submission, Mason dragged himself to the kitchen and made coffee. An early riser, he tiptoed around, trying to let Ben-in the front bunk-and Kevan sleep as long as possible.

Being on the road could wreak havoc with a person's sleep cycle and, sometimes, health. For Mason, exercise was a form of meditation. When presented with a problem he couldn't solve, he often found it would untangle itself easily through a run or some weight training.

A good, long morning run was the therapy he needed to get his head around his job, this thing with Kevan, and the deal with the band. After leaving her a note, he stretched outside the bus. He was about to take off for a trek around the area, which wasn't much more than a cozy community in a lush valley, when Jax loped off the band's bus and started stretching.

"You run?" Mason asked the tattooed drummer.

"Don't sound so surprised." Jax laughed. He bent down and touched his toes.

"Actually, I am. A little anyway. Doesn't seem very rock star. Aren't you supposed to be in bed with two groupies until late afternoon?"

"Not enough room in my bunk for two fangirls. And I'm on tour with my sister, dude. Besides, don't tell anyone, but I'm a bit of a health nut. Have been since college."

"Now, I am surprised," Mason said. "I wasn't aware that tattoo artists went to college."

Jax gestured to the road, and the two jogged down the street through the shadowy fog. "Most probably don't. I was pre-law at Oregon State. Go Beavs! Graduated with a degree in poly sci, but art was always my thing."

"I can relate. More than you know." Mason nodded. "Didn't go to law school though?"

"Almost the full three years. I f.u.c.king hated it," he said with a shallow laugh.

Mason laughed, surprised he was starting to like the tattooed drummer. "My sister's an attorney. It's definitely a personality type."

Jax made a show of fake shivering and laughed. This time more genuinely.

Mason slowed, remembering the news he had for the band. "Before I forget, I wanted to let you know the events VP from h.e.l.lfire is coming to the show tonight."

"The possible tour opportunity from the itinerary?" Jax lifted both eyebrows.

"The one and only. Want to know why?"

"For real, dude? h.e.l.l yeah."

"They're interested in the band for their big festival tour next year."

Jax grinned. Then his smile fell, replaced by a frown. "The band will be stoked."

"So why don't you looked stoked?" What was going on with this guy?

"No, it's totally cool. I'm busy as h.e.l.l at work and have some commissioned paintings I need to work on. No worries. It's all good." Jax smiled again and increased his pace.

Mason raced to keep up with Jax as the burn of cold air filled his lungs. His chest expanded and expelled the warmed air in cloudy puffs. They ran for two miles before Jax glanced repeatedly at Mason as if he wanted to say something but didn't quite know how to start. Mason a.s.sumed he knew the topic.

"Spit it out already." He breathed heavily.

Jax doubled the pace. "Look, Kevan acts like a bada.s.s, and sometimes she is, but the truth is she's had it rough." Jax started breathing heavier but didn't sound winded.

"Her mom died when she was young, and her dad has always been a loser d.i.c.khead. She's an amazing girl, and she doesn't need another douchebag slumming it with the edgy chick."

Did Jax just call him a douchebag to his face? "Don't hold back. Tell me how you really feel."

"You have a sister, right?" Jax asked. Taking the pace to another level, Mason welcomed the burn and stretch of his muscles as they heated and tired.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Answer the f.u.c.king question." Jax's face darkened-either from exertion or from anger. "Do you or not?"

"You know I do."

"Do you feel protective of her? Want a.s.sholes to steer clear? Keep her out of trouble?"

"What's your point?"

"Kevan is super sweet, smart, and s.e.xy. She's also impulsive." Jax glanced sideways at Mason and took several deep breaths. "It's a recipe for disaster. And the one person who's supposed to look out for her, Bowen, f.u.c.ked up his life. While he's trying to straighten his s.h.i.t out, she has no one to turn to. No one she can trust."

How was he supposed to respond? She didn't need him messing around with her life. Jax was right; he should walk away from her.

"What about you?" he asked. "You two seem pretty close."

"We've all been friends for years-through the shop and music scene-but really it's Bowen and I that are tight."

Mason wanted to pump his fist in the air and yell his relief.

"What's the deal with her brother?" he asked as they looped around toward the bus and RV.

"Bowen's the guy everyone likes. Life of the party. But he's an addict and alcoholic like his old man. The pressure of trying to be all things to all people got to him. He hid his insecurities in a bottle of booze and then got hooked on speed." He slowed and looked lost in thought. "Then he got his a.s.s kicked by a local dealer. It was bad. Thank G.o.d Kevan got him into rehab."

They ran two blocks in silence before Jax said, "d.a.m.n waste of talent if he doesn't get clean. He's one of the best artists I've ever met."

"Do you have any of his work?" Mason asked.

"Why? You thinking of getting some ink?" Jax laughed.

"Maybe."

Jax peered at Mason's face, maybe trying to gauge his sincerity. "Yeah. He and Nathan did most of my tattoos. Bowen is obsessed with traditional Asian art. He did all my Chinese and j.a.panese stuff. I'll show you sometime. He's gifted."

Mason smiled absentmindedly, thinking of Kevan's body art. "I've seen Kevan's koi and cherry blossoms. They're insane."