Page 25 of Corrupt


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“Yeah,” he replied. “And I gotta tell you, I felt my balls shriveling up into my stomach the whole time I was picking this shit out.”

“How in the world did you get these rooms painted in less than a day?”

He shoved one hand into his jeans pocket and raked the other through his hair. “Well, your room has always been that color, and I had this one painted when I got back from tour. I knew I wanted to see more of Liddy, so I started making a room for her in the hopes you’d let me start with overnight visits.”

God, he really was serious about missing her like crazy. Those words hit my shield like a battering ram.

“Daddy! Come play tea party wif me!” Liddy yelled, jumping up and down on her bed.

“Wish I could, munchkin,” Garrett answered, the tone of his voice belying his words. I’d have bet money that he’d rather have his teeth pulled without anesthesia than sit and have a tea party—not that I could blame him. “But I’ve got some work to do, and you and your mom need to get settled.” She didn’t pout for too long, not with so many new, exciting things to play with.

Garrett and I stepped out of the room when Liddy turned around and started looking through the boxes on the floor that had already been opened, in search of toys.

“I thought you said you and the guys were taking a break for a while,” I muttered as we moved down the hall.

“Yeah, we are. We agreed no more tours for the foreseeable future, and the record company isn’t expecting anything new from us, but Declan came up with some new stuff he wants to start on. We’re using my studio here.”

It was then that I realized how little I knew about Garrettandhis band. “Does Declan write all your songs?”

We stopped at my bedroom. Garrett turned to face me, tucking his hands in his pockets. “The majority of them, yeah. He comes up with the lyrics, and then we all get together to collaborate on the melody. The booth’s soundproof if you’re worried about noise—”

“No. No, I’m not worried about that. I was just… curious. I don’t really know much about your process, I guess.”

A pleased smile curved his lips as he eased closer. “You were curious about me, sweetness?”

I would have blushed if not for that last word. “Don’t call me that,” I grunted, taking a step backward. “And do you have to make everything sound so dirty? I just figured I’d ask since I don’t know anything about you or the band.”

He chuckled, removing his hands from his pockets and holding them up in surrender. “You ever have any questions, just ask.” He gave me a salacious wink and started backing away. “You know where to find me.”

“God, you’re such a pig,” I muttered with a roll of my eyes.

“Make yourself at home, Gwen. My place is your place. Iwant you to be comfortable, so do whatever you want. And if you get hungry, Rosita can make you guys something to eat.”

“Rosita?” I called to his back.

“My cook. And Sylvie’s the housekeeper if you have any questions about where things are,” he answered over his shoulder, then disappeared down the stairs.

“Ofcourseyou have a housekeeper and cook,” I mumbled to myself as I turned and headed back into my room. I was living with a rich and famous rock star who worked on songs in his tricked-out home studio and employed staff to keep his meals and house in order. I huffed as I looked down at the boxes waiting to be unpacked, wondering if I’d ever come to grips with my new reality.

There wasa dull ache in my lower back that would no longer be ignored by the time I finished unpacking the last box in my room. After a delicious dinner made and served—despite my insistence that she not wait on us—by Rosita, a short, plump, cheerful Hispanic lady, I’d spent the better part of my evening getting Liddy’s room finished before giving her a bath in my new—and totally awesome—claw-foot tub, reading her two books, and putting her to bed. After that, I killed several hours getting my own room in order. I couldn’t fit all the pictures I had around our apartment in my bedroom, so I stowed several of them away, making a mental note to ask Garrett if I could put them around the rest of the house.

I flattened the last box and stood from my place on the bedroom floor, stretching out my sore muscles, and decided I’d drop them in the garage for recycling before going in search of painkillers.

Hefting the boxes under my arm, I made the trek down thegrand staircase, really taking in Garrett’s house for the first time. In the past, the visits had either been short or there was a raging party distracting me from anything else. The place seemed so different without hundreds of people packed inside.

As I moved through the house, I noticed that everything from the furniture to the curtains was high-end and expensive. But one thing in particular stood out as I moved through the rooms on the first floor—the place felt like it was staged, unlived in. There wasn’t a hint of Garrett’s personality anywhere to be seen. It was surprising, given how hard he tried to ingrain Liddy’s and my personalities in our bedrooms. The house was nice, I couldn’t deny that, but if I had to guess, I’d say he paid someone to pick the furniture and few paintings that hung on the wall, then never made any effort to put his own stamp on it.

I leaned the flattened boxes against a wall in the garage and closed the door behind me before heading into the kitchen in search of ibuprofen. I’d just downed the capsules with a glass of water when the door leading to the basement studio swung open and Killian, Declan, and Mace came walking through.

“What’s up, baby mama?” Mace asked, heading to the fridge and pulling out a beer.

I gave a hesitant nod, feeling out of place surrounded by these men who graced the covers of more magazines than I could count. I always felt awkward around the famous members of Civil Corruption. “Hey. You guys finished for the night?”

Declan gave me a quizzical look as he twirled his key ring around his index finger. “Yep.” The distrust in his eyes as he watched me was disconcerting, making the tiny hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. “Making yourself at home in this big cushy house?” There was an accusation in the way he asked that didn’t sit right with me.

“I guess,” I dragged out, glancing over at Mace and Killian to see them looking anywhere but at me and Declan.

“Must be nice,” he continued, smiling with total insincerity. “You know, to go from where you were to all this. Garrett told us about your old place. Sounds like you’re really moving up in the world.”