Rowan grinned and laughed, which was exactly what he hoped to achieve. He didn’t want her worrying about anything.
“All right. You’re up in thirty seconds,” Marla said. “Don’t answer any personal questions and just keep smiling.”
Rowan’s smile slipped and Luke leaned forward to whisper, “Are you wearing any underwear? ’Cause I’m not.”
“Go.” Marla gave him a small push on the back of his arm.
He winked at Rowan and led them down the gauntlet.
* * *
Of course everyoneshouted questions about their relationship. He gave the answers he and Marla had discussed—basically that it was a private matter they were working on privately. Once inside, Marla peeled off to check on Laney since she was presenting, and they were led to their table.
“Anyone want a drink?” he asked.
“Please, god, yes,” Rowan said.
He kissed her cheek. “I love hearing those words come out of your mouth,” he whispered.
Her eyes widened and her cheeks took on a deep blush.
“Shush!” She smacked his shoulder while he laughed.
“Would you two get a room?” Shelby asked.
“We will just as soon as this thing is over,” he said.
“How long is this going to last?” Shelby asked.
“It’ll be around two hours before we can gracefully exit. You’re welcome to stay if you want.”
“Maybe. We’ll see how the night goes.”
“Do you want wine or something stronger,” he asked Rowan.
“Wine,” she said. “A semi-sweet white, please.”
“Coming right up.” He kissed her gently. “Shell, you want a beer?”
“Hell, no. I want champagne. We’re fancy tonight.”
Luke chuckled. “Fancy it is. I’ll be right back.” Kissing Rowan again, he squeezed her and headed to the bar.
“Hey, man. You avoiding me?’ Brett leaned against the bar. Outwardly, he looked relaxed, but Luke could see tension around his eyes and mouth.
“Hey. Just been busy.” He didn’t want to get into it with Brett at the gala and more and more lately all they seemed to do was argue about the direction Luke wanted to take with his career.
“With Rowan,” Brett said.
The way he said it, the tone in his voice, made the hair on the back of Luke’s neck stand on end.
“Yeah. And my mom and sister. You know—family.”
“Whatever.” Brett gestured to the bartender and ordered a scotch, neat. “The label wants you back in the studio. They’re getting antsy that you haven’t signed the new contract. They’re worried someone else is trying to poach you.”
Luke watched Brett down half his glass in one gulp. “I know. I’ve got a meeting with Walter on Monday.”
Brett set down his glass with a thud. “What do you mean you have a meeting with Walter? Since when?”
