“You’re serious?” I breathe.
“Dead serious,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw before he finally looks at the clock. Suddenly, the reality of the morning crashes back in. “Shit, but for right now, we still have things to do. Drink your coffee while you get ready.”
My brow furrows. “Wait, what? Where are we going?”
He shakes his head, releasing a sigh. “Oh, shit, I ruined the surprise.” He reluctantly adds, “Jaxon Wilde is playing at the most historic music venue in Verona tonight. Sound check is in an hour.”
He spends the next few minutes explaining how we’ll catch up with Jax before the show to get more information about Luke’s video and how he got into this little predicament. My jaw hangs
open the entire time he talks. Sharp breaths of air catch in my throat with every additional detail he shares.
I move to scoot toward the edge of the bed, ready to get dressed, but before I can get there, Locke grabs my wrist. He mutters, “Just think about what I said, though.”
I nod silently as I head into the next room.
When I leave the bathroom 45 minutes later, my jaw instantly hits the floor. “I didn’t even know you owned a t-shirt!”
He shoots me an unamused glare from his spot on the edge of the bed. He’s handsome in a suit, but in everyday wear? It’s giving a slightly older James Dean.
He’s in a pair of straight-legged Tom Ford jeans and a white t-shirt with sleeves that hug his biceps just enough to show off his muscular build and the bold Celtic designs woven together around his arms. The whole look is screaming, “Climb on top of me.” And the way he’s eyeing me tells me he’s thinking the same about my outfit choice.
I chose an old band t-shirt that I cut across the top to hang off my right shoulder and tied at the bottom to show just a hint of skin. A tight, black faux leather skirt hugs my curves with wide fishnet tights underneath. Then, I threw on my usual black chunky-heeled boots. I grabbed a flannel shirt from my bag and tied it around my waist as a finishing touch.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.
“What’s wrong with it?” I ask, brows raised, genuinely confused by his reaction.
“Absolutely nothing,” he says, his eyes wandering down the length of my body and back up again. “I’m just not sure I’ll be able to focus on anything with you looking like that. Are you trying to torture me?”
“Consider it payback for last night,” I say, laughing to myself.
He gives me a devious smile. The look of a man who knows exactly how little I’m protesting what happened between us.
He moves toward me, one hand finding my waist as the other wraps gently around my throat, squeezing just enough to make me forget how to breathe on my own. It’s a subtle reminder of his declaration earlier — that he’s done with the distance.
Then he kisses me, a slow, intentional press of his lips against mine. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs against my mouth, his voice regaining that professional tone even as his eyes stay soft, “before I decide we have more important things to do, like getting back in that bed.”
I nod, my heart pounding against my ribs, and follow him out.
Chapter 24
LOCKE
The matte black Aston Martin purrs beneath my hands as we cut through Verona’s narrow streets, drawing just enough attention. After all, it’s a bit of a vacation, and I’m sick of giving nosy drivers the chance to eavesdrop. I’m not exactly excited for the day ahead, but I’m eager to be one step closer to putting this job behind us.
Arden shifts beside me, one leg tucked under her, sunglasses perched on her nose like she’s about to headline the show herself. She hasn’t said a word since we left the villa. Just keeps tapping her fingers against her thigh in time with the music on the radio. Is she nervous?
Every time she speaks of Jaxon, it’s with a kind of quiet awe. Remembering that reverence now, her silence makes sense. I’m betting ‘nervous’ doesn’t even come close to describing what she’s feeling.
We pull up behind the venue, which is a historic Roman amphitheater that’s sometimes still used for concerts, like the one tonight. The ancient stone walls tower high above us, with rows of arches stacked on top of each other and jagged edges near the top where time has worn the stone away.
I might think the sight is stunning if I weren’t so focused on why we’re here. Not to mention having to watch her ass bouncing in that skirt that’s barely covering it, wondering how many rabid crew members I’ll have to keep in check today.
“Let’s get this over with,” I grit out, that thought increasing the annoyance I’m already feeling, as Arden excitedly prances beside me.
“Oh, come on, it’s a Jaxon Wilde concert! You can’t tell me you’re not even a little excited.”
“I thought we had already established that I’m not a fan,” I reply, making sure she hears the bite of irritation in my voice. “He’s just a dumb kid who got too popular too fast and can’t handle his shit. We’re here for a job; don’t forget that.”
