Page 96 of When the Storm Breaks
I smiled a little. “I’m good at reading between the lines. It’s what he wants to say but guys aren’t so great at sharing their feelings with each other.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
I laughed. “Can’t handle all those pesky emotions, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. Tell me what your day looks like.”
“Hmm, let’s see. I’ll eat breakfast. Oatmeal, fresh fruit, tea with lemon and honey.”
“Tea?”
“Decaf.”
“A rock star diet.”
I laughed. “Exactly. Then I’ll work out with my personal trainer. After that, I’ll probably have a healthy smoothie followed by a massage. This afternoon I’m flying to Glasgow. Then I have a soundcheck. I’ll eat a light meal. Protein and carbs, no dairy. Then it’s on to hair, makeup and wardrobe, and I’ll get so nervous I’ll think I’m going to throw up…”
“And will you?” He sounded so genuinely interested, like he wanted to know every detail of my day and how I spent my time. Which was so sweet. But I guess I had the advantage here. I’d been introduced to his world, but he’d never spent any time in mine.
“Not usually, no. It’s just nervous jitters. Then it’s show time.”
“And how will that feel?”
“Like I’m ten feet tall and bulletproof.” I smiled at the memory of Noah saying that to Brody the morning I showed up to make smoothies.
“I bet when you’re up on that stage, you really are ten feet tall and bulletproof. I bet you shine so bright. You always did. Even when you were here in Texas without the stage lights.”
God, sometimes he was so damn sweet. I didn’t think most people got to see this charming side of Brody. A wave of longing washed over me, and I rubbed my hand over my heart. Now that he’d called me, saying all these sweet words, I missed him even more than I’d been missing him for the past week. “Wish you were here, Cowboy,” I said softly.
“Me too.”
We talked for another twenty minutes about everything and nothing until I had to say goodbye and get started with my day. Thankfully, he didn’t circle back to the conversation about Dean and Landry.
Before we hung up, we decided to meet in London in August for the final week of my European leg of the tour. Two months seemed like a long way off, but it was the soonest he could get away and it would work out in our favor. I’d have him for an entire week, and even better, for the last four days we’d be in the south of France for a mini-vacation at the villa Bastian had rented while he was on tour in Europe. From there, I’d head to Rio and Brody would return to Texas.
Funny how I was already feeling sad about leaving him before we’d even had a chance to be together again. But as it turned out, our relationship would be a long series of hellos and goodbyes. It was one of the many things we had to learn to deal with if we wanted to be together. And we did. We both wanted it so much.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brody
August - London
The silver Mercedespulled up in front of the hotel and I stared at the imposing red brick façade complete with fucking turrets. According to the driver, we were in Knightsbridge. Might as well have been Buckingham Palace. A bellhop in red tails and a black top hat stood on the hotel steps in front of a hanging basket of geraniums. I felt like I was going to meet the Queen for tea.
“Good luck, mate.”
I was starting to think I’d need it. I thanked the driver who’d been sent to pick me up at Heathrow after my overnight flight and grabbed my duffel bag from the seat next to me. It held everything I needed and fit the requirements for carry-on luggage. During my rodeo days, I’d traveled a lot, but I’d never been to London and never in my fucking life had I set foot in a place as fancy as this.
As per Shiloh’s instructions, I’d texted her when I landed, and I’d texted her when we were five minutes from the hotel, so she knew to expect me. Here goes nothing.
A duffel bag slung over my shoulder, I walked through the front door, feeling every bit like the guy in that Garth Brooks song “I’ve Got Friends in Low Places.”
Instead of my usual boots, I was wearing black leather high tops, but I still felt like I’d brought the dirt and grit of my Texas horse ranch with me. I stopped in the marble lobby under a funky chandelier, and searched for Shiloh, unsure what the fuck I was supposed to do next. A few guests were milling around near the reception desk, and a well-dressed older couple passed me on their way to the front door. The woman lifted her nose in the air like she’d smelled something bad.
“May I help you, sir?” a man at the reception desk asked in his prim and proper British accent. One look at me and I was pretty sure he’d already figured out I didn’t belong in this gilt and marble lobby that reeked of money and breeding.
Before I had a chance to answer, a guy built like a tank, with a shaved head wearing a black T-shirt, made a beeline for me. “You must be Brody.” I nodded. “I’m James.” He lowered his voice and spoke in hushed tones so as not to be overheard by the other guests. “I’m on Miss Leroux’s security detail. She asked me to escort you to her room.”
