“Will do. And from a tech standpoint, it’s not a problem—I’ve already got a great sound company handling both the wedding band and the 22 Goats concert tonight, so I’ll ask them to add this guy’s mini-performance to the job.”
Reed smiles. “Perfect. The Mighty T-Rod’s on it.”
“Yes, sir. So, you’re planning be at the 22 Goats concert tonight, right?”
“There’s gonna be a 22 Goats concert tonight?”
“After the luau.” I shoot him a snarky look. “And if you don’t want me to break your legs, you’d better make sure you’re there, Mr. Rivers, because I’ve got a strong hunch you’re actually the guest of honor.”
Reed smiles playfully. “Why on earth would I be the guest of honor?”
“Don’t play coy with me. You know why.”
Reed flashes me a panty-melting smile. “Areyougonna be at the concert, T-Rod?”
“Of course,” I say, my pulse suddenly pounding in my ears. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
I smile and blush. Man, Reed Rivers is one attractive dude. Dark eyes. Brown hair. Strong jawline with stubble. Absolutely oozing confidence. “Well, you shouldn’t go to the concert forme,” I say. “Go because 22 Goats is awesome. I’ve watched their videos online and I can honestly say I think they’re incredible.”
Reed smirks. “I’m just playing with you. Josh sent me Dax’s demo a while back, so I’ve already checked out all the videos. I’m actually pretty sure I’m gonna sign Dax—I just need to see him play live before I make my final decision.”
“Oh, I really hope you sign ’em. I know Kat is crossing her fingers and toes, as well.”
“Well, you’re both sweethearts, but that doesn’t affect my decision at all. I don’t sign bands as a favor to anyone, not even Josh’s lovely personal assistant or his stubborn but lovely future wife.”
I blush.Shit. I’m so lame. “Oh, of course,” I stammer. “You’re running a business. Kat and I both realize that. I just meant...” I trail off.Shit.
“Too much goes into breaking a band to do anything half-assed,” Reed explains. “I’m not in this for charity—I’m in it to make truckloads of money while introducing musical greatness unto the world.”
I cock my head, assessing him, that last statement throwing me for a loop. “So if you knew a group would make you a mint but you thought their music was less-than-great, you wouldn’t sign them?”
“I wouldn’t sign ’em. I only sign bands I’m proud to put my name behind.”
“But, say you had the chance to sign that ‘Gangnum Style’ dude, knowing in advance it would blow up like it did?”
“Even if I knew for a fact that dude would make me richer than God, I’d still say no fucking thanks.”
“I’m impressed,” I say. “That’s very...” My eyes have involuntarily drifted over to the pool to check on Ryan again, but he’s not there. I look back at Reed.Where’d Ryan go? Crap! Did he leave because he’s pissed at me for talking to Reed? “Um. That’s very... Uh. Sorry. I just totally lost my train of thought.”
“I know the feeling. I keep losing my train of thought, too—thanks to that itty-bitty bikini you’re wearing, T-Rod.Damn.”
Whoa.
Reed’s flirted with me over the years now and again, but he’s never said anything so blatantly sexual to me before. But, then again, we’ve never been sitting six inches apart in nothing but our bathing suits before. My eyes flicker over Reed’s bare torso for a moment, taking in the unbelievable ridges in his abs and the bulges in his arms and the perfection of his round nipples. Sexy dude, I must say. Not as sexy as Ryan, of course, but who is?
“Seriously, you look mind-blowing in that bikini, T-Rod,” Reed says. “T-Rod?”
My eyes snap up from blatantly ogling Reed’s chest and he smirks.
“Looks like I’m not the only one feeling pleasantly surprised at the moment.”
I clear my throat.Shit.“So you’re seriously thinking of signing 22 Goats, then? That would be a dream come true for those boys. I talked to them last night and they’re all really excited at the possibility.”
One side of Reed’s mouth tilts up, a sure sign he knows I’ve just pointedly changed the subject. “Dax Morgan doesn’t need to worry about a damned thing,” he says. “I’ve watched the band’s YouTube videos with my entire team and we all agree: Dax is a star. Jesus Christ—have you seen the way that kid’s face looks under the lights? If I could order a rock star from the Rock Star Factory, it’d be Dax Morgan.”
I nod. “Yeah, he’s stunning.”
