FLOWERS and CAGES Read online

  "Girls are different," Dalton agreed.

  "Don't get me started on how girls deal with each other. That would take hours and boxes of Kleenex. I'm interested in you and your childhood need to pound things."

  "I got lucky."

  A teacher stepped into one of Dalton's fights. Mr. Dedham could have done the expected thing and sent the boys to the principal. Instead, he had them meet him after school in the auditorium.

  "Pound on these instead of each other. Try it for one afternoon."

  These turned out to be a set of drums. The other boy, Dalton had long ago forgotten his name, did what he was told then left. Dalton came back the next day. Then the next. He had no idea he had found his calling. But from the first instant, he loved the feel of the sticks in his hands. He was hooked.

  "And magically, you never got into another fight."

  "Fair point, smartass," Dalton chuckled. "I've had my share since then. None since prison. I stopped blaming myself for that one long before my latest visit to Midas."

  "Glad to hear it." Colleen took her foot off the gas. "I need to stretch my legs. While I check out the bathroom, why don't you get us something cold?"

  The rest stop was full-service. Gasoline. Restrooms. The store had a big sign boasting fresh-picked local produce.

  "Water or juice," Dalton asked, stepping out of the car. Colleen was right. He needed to move around.

  "Anything without bubbles. I know you think I'm irresistible, but you might change your mind if you have to listen to me belch from here to Los Angeles."

  Dalton was still smiling when the bell over the convenience store door signaled his entrance. The place wasn't crowded, but the young man behind the counter seemed to be doing a steady business. He estimated seven or eight patrons of varying ages. Walking toward the refrigerated coolers that lined the back wall, he was about to reach for a carton of orange juice when he heard the first whisper.

  "Is that…?" a female voice whispered.

  "OMG!" said someone else with a definite squeal. "I think you're right."

  Amused, Dalton waited. He could have hurried down the far aisle—in the opposite direction. The exit wasn't that far away. Avoiding the inevitable would have been a piece of cake. Instead, he let them make their move. Or not. Fans were part of the price he paid for his success. A small, and more often than not, enjoyable price.

  "Excuse me."

  Turning, Dalton removed his sunglasses and smiled. The response made him grin. Unadulterated adoration. It was something he never got used to. Or tired of. After all, he was only human.

  Two women, he guessed they were in their late thirties, stared at him with wide eyes surrounded by sunburned faces. They were dressed for the weather in baggy shorts and t-shirts. The brunette's shirt proclaimed her love for The Ryder Hart Band in bold red letters. He recognized it as the logo from their last tour.

  "Did you make it to a concert?" Dalton asked, taking the pen from the woman's numb fingers. Unable to speak, she nodded, turning so he could autograph the back part of her shoulder.

  "I was there, too." The other woman spoke up, pushing her mute friend aside.

  "I hope you had a good time."

  "Oh," she gulped, blinked, and then swallowed again. "It was the best show ever. Ever! Can I get a picture?"

  "Absolutely."

  That opened the floodgates. Every person in the store wanted an autograph, a picture, and a few moments of Dalton's time. He didn't know how, but their numbers seemed to multiply. Taking it in stride, he posed, keeping an eye out for Colleen.

  "My granddaughter is going to have a fit when I post this on Facebook." Grinning, the woman who didn't look like anybody's grandmother, smooshed her face next to his before snapping the selfie. "Ella was supposed to be with me today but opted to sleep away the morning rather than take a boring road trip. Boring, my ass. By the way, you look even sexier without the beard." She planted her lips on Dalton's cheek, catching the moment on her phone.

  Amused, Dalton shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Colleen next to a display of Hostess Twinkies, hands in her pockets, grinning as she observed him and his fans. She opened her mouth, about to hit with a cheeky observation, no doubt, but was interrupted by Ella's grandmother.

  "Don't be shy, honey." The woman grabbed Colleen's hand, depositing her next to Dalton. "You may never get another chance to meet a bona fide rock star."

  Wide eyed, Colleen gave Dalton what he assumed was supposed to be a shy smile. Colleen may have fooled the people observing their exchange, but not him. She was many things—most of them good—but shy was not on the list.

  "I didn't want to be a bother."

  "No bother," Dalton assured her, wondering how far she was going to take this.

  "I don't have anything for you to autograph," Colleen said, rooting around in her purse. All she came out with was a felt-tipped pen. With a twinkle in her green eyes, she kept her back to the interested crowd. "Will this do?"

  When Colleen whipped up her shirt, showing him her lace-covered breasts, Dalton had to bite the inside of his cheek. It was either that or burst out laughing. The expressions on everyone's faces were priceless. Shocked. Amazed. Intrigued. Dalton caught Colleen's gaze. I dare you, she seemed to say. Taking the pen, perfectly aware that cameras were catching every moment, Dalton leaned close to her chest, until his lips were within kissing distance.

  "Wait until I get you alone," he breathed. Instead of signing his name, Dalton left a tiny bullseye.

  "I can't wait." Replacing her shirt, Colleen held up her camera before putting her arm around Dalton. "Smile."

  A few minutes later, they were pulling out of the parking lot, Dalton behind the wheel. Colleen had slipped the keys into his pocket while she took their picture. When she followed him to his car, sliding into the passenger seat, it appeared he was giving a ride to a beautiful, redheaded stranger.

  "One of them might have seen us arrive together," Dalton pointed out as Colleen had a good laugh.

  "Maybe. But so what? We gave them a show they won't soon forget. Good, relatively clean, PG-rated fun. When Grandma recounts her meeting with Dalton Shaw—and me—the granddaughter will be kicking herself in her sleepy ass for years to come."

  Colleen sipped her juice. When Dalton didn't respond, she looked at him, her eyes concerned.

  "Did I mess up?"

  "No."

  "Then tell me what you're thinking."

  Dalton raised Colleen's hands to his lips, his eyes brimming with warmth.

  "Best road trip ever."

  "WE'RE ABOUT FIVE minutes from my house." Dalton slowed, cautiously maneuvering the hairpin curve. He had Ryder on speaker phone.

  "We figured that's where you would head. Are you going to introduce me?"

  "Colleen McNamara. Ryder Hart. He's bossy, but the rest of us have learned to live with it."

  "Hello, Colleen."

  "Hello, Ryder." Colleen seemed to find the exchange highly amusing.

  "We'll see you soon. Both of you."

  "Shit." Dalton ended the connection.

  "What?"

  "He's waiting for us. At my house. They all are."

  "Ah." Colleen nodded in complete understanding. "Your friends want to check me out."

  "No." When he saw her lips curve upward, Dalton sighed. "Maybe. Ashe dated a woman for a short time. She considered herself an amateur psychiatrist. In her opinion, the members of The Ryder Hart Band are codependent and emotionally stunted. On her way out the door—helped with a figurative kick by Ashe—she suggested we should seek professional help. Immediately."

  "I'll reserve judgment. However, Ashe's lady friend sounds like she wanted him to herself."

  "We've been a tight unit for a long time. For the most part, Quinn slid right in."

  "You don't think they'll like me?" Colleen frowned.

  That wasn't the problem. Only somebody with a screw loose wouldn't like Co
lleen. Dalton felt the same about his friends—his brothers and sister. He couldn't imagine anyone not embracing them immediately. However, the way he felt wasn't at issue.

  "I want you to like them."

  That perked her up. "I like you. They like you. That puts the odds in our favor."

  "You like me, huh?" Dalton shot her a provocative smile. "How much?"

  "What are you, twelve?" Laughing, Colleen swatted his hand away as his fingers tiptoed up her thigh.

  "How much?" Dalton persisted, his hand continuing to roam.

  "Remember that thing I did for you last night? The one that left you unable to move for a good five minutes?"

  "Mm." Special did not begin to define it.

  "You are the only person I've ever satisfied in that way."

  "Really?" Dalton was thrilled—and surprised. "You did it with such confidence."

  "I was inspired." Colleen placed her hand over his where it rested on her upper thigh.

  "I'm flattered. And grateful." Dalton knew he should stop while he was way ahead, but he couldn't resist. "Where did you learn to do that with your tongue?"

  Colleen shrugged. "I read it in a book. And no, not the Karma Sutra. Which, by the way, is overrated."

  "You've read the Karma Sutra?" With a sly smile, Colleen nodded. "You're killing me, Red."

  "Overrated, Dalton."

  "The book has been around for almost a thousand years. Don't you think we owe it a chance—or two—before writing it off completely?"

  Considering, Colleen tapped her chin. "Fine. Find a copy and we'll give one position a whirl. Your choice. Honestly, Dalton. It's a lot of kerfuffles."

  "As a reasonable, intelligent adult, I would like to find that out for myself."

  "Fine," she sighed. "I hope this puts to rest your question about how much I like you."

  It did. However, Dalton's belief in Colleen's feelings had nothing to do with wild, sexual positions. It was something else. Something he doubted Colleen was aware had happened. He had called her Red—more than once. It was a nickname she claimed to hate, yet she hadn't complained. Or batted an eye.

  Shifting into low, Dalton smiled. There was no doubt that Colleen liked him. More than she realized.

  "I OWE QUINN five bucks," Ryder said, resting his arm across the back of the sofa. His fingers played with a few strands of Quinn's dark hair.

  Dalton took a sip of his beer. "Then pay the woman. You can afford it."

  They were seated in Dalton's living room. Ashe and Zoe opposite him, Ryder and Quinn to his right. After the usual warm greetings, Dalton had introduced Colleen. It went well—not that he was surprised. Hello and nice to meet you rarely unearthed any hidden landmines. His friends were open and welcoming. Colleen the same. The initial meeting went well.

  Dalton showed Colleen to the master bedroom. Where, after a few minutes, she shooed him out. Ostensibly, she claimed she wanted to unpack and freshen up. In reality, she was giving him some time alone with his friends. His first instinct was to assure Colleen that it wasn't necessary. He hadn't been gone that long. How much catching up did they need to do? They spoke on the phone every day he was away.

  It was the expression on Colleen's face that stopped him. She didn't look overwhelmed—exactly. Hesitant. This wasn't her territory. It made sense that she would need a few minutes to acclimate before jumping into a fully formed group of friends.

  "The question isn't Ryder's ability to pay. It's why he needs to."

  "Okay," Dalton could tell Ashe was bursting to share. "I'll jump. Why does Ryder owe Quinn five dollars?"

  "Quinn believed there was more to you and Colleen than a little lust in the dust of Arizona. Ryder wasn't convinced. I thought it was a sure bet." Ashe took a five from his wallet, passing it to Quinn. Ryder did the same. "Zoe played Sphinx—as always."

  "My money is still my own," Zoe said with a satisfied smirk. She wasn't one to laugh at her friend's misfortune—no matter how minor. However, she couldn't hide the laughter that sparkled in her blue eyes.

  "What made you think so?" Dalton inquired of Quinn. She was fairly new to their circle. What had she noticed that his old friends hadn't?

  "You told us that Colleen had the sweetest smile," Quinn reminded him.

  "That's it?" Dalton kept an eye on the stairs. He was curious, but he didn't want Colleen walking in on this conversation.

  "My words exactly." Ryder tugged on Quinn's hair, earning him a slap that was more playful than angry. The couple looked at each other with such a mixture of love and desire, Dalton started to get a contact high.

  "Before I suggest you two get a room," Ashe said, apparently feeling the same as Dalton, "I'm certain Dalton would like to know why we conceded the bet to Quinn."

  "Well?" Genuinely perplexed, Dalton looked around the room.

  "You shaved," Ashe grinned as if those two words said it all.

  Automatically, Dalton's hand went to his face. It felt strange to find a small bit of stubble instead of the beard he had cultivated for the past five years.

  "I felt like a change."

  "Right. And Ryder has developed a sudden scissors phobia." Zoe rolled her eyes, making her opinion obvious. "Men are so easy."

  "I wouldn't object if Ryder wanted to go shorter." Smiling, Quinn touched the dark wavy hair that brushed Ryder's shoulders. "Yes, I think longer is sexy. But it's only an opinion."

  "I'll get it cut." Ryder returned Quinn's smile, his eyes locked with hers. "Eventually."

  "See what I mean?" Zoe had to laugh. She loved her brother. He loved Quinn. He was happy. That was all that mattered. "What did Colleen say to get you to shave?"

  "Nothing." Dalton knew he sounded defensive. When Zoe gave him one of her patented stares, he stared back. Truth was on his side. "Colleen didn't say a damn thing."

  "Right." Zoe wasn't convinced.

  Colleen chose that moment to appear, saving Dalton the embarrassment of explaining. He knew it was only a matter of time. Eventually, he would cave under the intense blue of Zoe's stare. It was good to be home. Good to have his friends around him. It felt right. Normal. However, it changed the dynamics between him and Colleen.

  In Midas, there had been a feeling of him against the world. Colleen had quickly become his ally. This thing between them grew rapidly. Faster than if they had met here in Los Angeles. It hadn't taken Dalton long to realize what was happening. As crazy as it sounded, he was falling in love with Colleen. Hell, he was so close to being all in it wasn't funny. It was too soon to expect her to be there with him. Wasn't it?

  The chemistry was undeniable. That zing that zipped through Dalton the second he laid eyes on Colleen had been mutual. They had established that she liked him. Plus, she cared. She proved that more than once by defending him during that farce of a dinner party. Tolliver Cline soon discovered that Colleen outmatched and outclassed him in every way.

  But love? Colleen walked down the staircase, smiling as she met Dalton's gaze. She had tamed her long red hair, securing it into a sassy ponytail. A natural beauty, she looked like a dream—one he wanted desperately to turn into a reality. The question was, how?

  Dalton was afraid he had outdistanced Colleen on the emotional front. He didn't have long to help her play catch up. Already she had mentioned leaving the day after the concert. A home-field advantage played in his favor. Getting her to Los Angeles had been easier than he expected. Keeping her here would be the challenge.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  COLLEEN FELT LIKE she had come home. She wasn't a big believer in love at first sight, but it happened to her. One look at Los Angeles was all it took to have a where have you been all my life moment. The energy. The hustle and bustle. The bright lights and endless opportunities. If she had ever questioned her desire to live in a big city, all doubts had been dispelled. This was where Colleen McNamara belonged.

  It helped that she wasn't on her own. During the day, Dalton showed her around. She woul
dn't classify what they did as touristy sight-seeing expeditions. More along the lines of getting in the car and driving. Breakfast in Beverly Hills. Lunch downtown. Dinner in the Valley. In between, they would stop if the mood hit. Park and walk. Colleen couldn't think of the last time her days were so unstructured. There were no timetables. No deadlines. No rules.

  Tonight was the first time since their arrival that they had a fixed place to be. Dalton was meeting the rest of the band to rehearse for tomorrow night's benefit concert. After, they were all going out to eat at a downtown hot spot.

  "You bought this place for the view." Colleen made it a statement, not a question.

  Standing in front of the bank of windows, she could see the city laid out before her. Casting a late afternoon glow, the sun was starting to set. It felt as though nature was putting on a show for her alone.

  "Spectacular, isn't it?" From behind, Dalton slid his arms around her waist. "Growing up, I had dreams. The first time I walked into this room, I wondered at how far I had come. My first thought was, I'm a fraud. I don't belong here. Certain the realtor was going to realize her mistake and call the cops, do you know what I did?"

  "What?" Colleen snuggled close. She loved when Dalton shared such intimate moments. It made all of this—her time with him—seem real.

  "I found a corner where I knew I wouldn't be overheard. Calling Ryder, I made him promise it wasn't all going to disappear. The fame. The success. The money. I asked if it was real. Had we really made it? Was it going to last?"

  "He talked you down?"

  "That's one of the things Ryder does best. A minor panic attack is what he called it. At the time, it felt anything but minor. Calmly, he reminded me we had a three-album deal. A sold-out concert tour. Three songs in the top ten—two of which I coauthored. The royalties from those alone would keep me in the black for a long, long, time."

  It was funny. From the outside looking in, Colleen never would have guessed that Dalton possessed any insecurities. He came across—on stage and off—as a man totally in control. He exuded confidence. Success had a lot to do with that. Riding the top of the charts, screaming fans telling you with ticket sales and record-breaking albums that you were at the top of your game.