Page 34 of Love on Tour
She texted him to say she was out front and the gate opened. She drove in, and within thirty seconds, the gate closed behind her.
Austin was waiting out front wearing jeans and slippers. He didn’t have a shirt on. He directed her around the house to the garage.
She parked inside. Nobody would know she was there.
“Let me see the note,” he said the minute she stepped out.
“Don’t you believe me?”
“Of course I do. I thought I might recognize the handwriting if I looked at it up close.” She showed him the note, but he shook his head.
“All I want is a shower and a bed. I’m emotionally drained right now,” she said.
“Let’s go in. There’s a bit of a chill in the air.”
“You’re half-naked. Put some clothes on.”
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Mom,” he said, leading her into the house.
“You don’t have any tattoos, do you?” she asked.
“None that you can see,” he said with a smirk.
“I’m being serious. It’s rare for a guy your age not to.”
“I wanted them when I was younger. I was determined to get one as soon as I was old enough. But I saved every dollar I made so I could play gigs. I had to pay for equipment, instruments, gas, the band, and sometimes hotel rooms. There were out-of-town gigs we played where we didn’t even make enough to cover our travel expenses, but I wanted to reach a new audience. I kept finding clubs farther and farther away that would let me play. It got expensive. Spending money on a tattoo didn’t make sense. Then, when I had the money, I realized I was one of a few guys who didn’t have one. I decided to hold off. It’s almost rebellious to not have ink. I guess we have that in common, huh?”
Christine didn’t answer.
“Hold on, now. Are you telling me you have a tattoo?”
“I’m not telling you anything,” Christine said. “Where’s a guest bedroom?”
“Lower back? Tramp stamp? I bet it’s on your butt. I can see you taking a dare but refusing to let it be seen. Bottom of your foot?”
“You can quit guessing and tell me where I can take a bath and go to bed.”
“You know I won’t give up, but I’ll let it go for now. The upstairs bedroom on the left has a full bath. There’s all kinds of girly bath oils and stuff if you want to use it.” He pointed in the general direction of the bedroom.
“Should I ask why you have girly stuff?” Christine raised an eyebrow.
“Probably not. It’ll make me look like a male whore.”
“But aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
Christine rolled her eyes, making him chuckle.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll be in my studio. The kitchen is to the right and bedrooms are upstairs. The gate is closed and locked and the security code is set on the house. You should have nothing to worry about.”
“Thanks, Austin. I appreciate it.”
“Hell, it’s because of me you’re going through this. You don’t owe me any thanks.” He grabbed her suitcase, took it upstairs, walked down the hallway to the left, and showed her the bedroom. “My room is down the other hall, so you have plenty of privacy. I’ll leave you in peace, unless, of course, you want my company.” He stood there, no shirt on, body to die for, offering what so many women wanted.
“I would, but geez, there’s something about being threatened that just takes the wind out of my sexual sails.”
“Just let me know if that wind changes direction.” He kissed the top of her head and went back downstairs.
