Page 4 of All Tied Down

Fierce.

Unapologetic.

Badass.

I love the power she exudes—the way she captivates every room she walks into simply by existing.

“Please?” I ask, trying the smolder she’s allegedly not fond of, but she only glares and I can’t help but chuckle. “It might be fun.”

“Sex on vacation is fun. Picking up my fake husband’s dirty socks is not fun.”

“First of all, sex is always fun.”

“Why do men always say that? The number of orgasms women experience during sex versus men is wildly disproportionate.”

“Sounds criminal.”

“It is.”

“While that may be true,”—I let my lips curve up into a wolfish smile—“I’m confident that your experience in Vegas was remarkably different.”

“That’s the only reason I haven’t thrown you out of my office, Mr. North.” Her reply is saccharine sweet, those red lips distracting me in a way I truly cannot afford right now.

Later.

“What if I tell you I really need this? Not as Garrett North, lead singer of Descending North, but as Garrett, the guy who just loves music and a quiet life in a small town outside Chicago. I chose to be in the spotlight and I know that puts me under a microscope but…” I sigh and look away, gathering myself before turning back and letting her see the vulnerability written all over my face. “That’s not what this is.”

“And what is it, exactly?” The question is direct, but there’s an underlying softness to it too, a curiosity and perhaps a little sympathy.

Pulling out my phone, I open the text thread from my assistant and hand her the device, watching as her brows furrow slightly as she scrolls up through all the articles Theo has sent me in the past two days.

“I’m not saying I haven’t had my share of fun on tours,” I admit openly as her dark eyes slide up to meet mine, “but the lies and rumors Darren is spreading are doing more damage than we can counter.”

“You need a better lawyer.”

“Emerson, we were a family—me and the other guys in the band. But he’s trying to ruin everything we stand for. Right now his focus is the band as a whole and me, and I’m trying to keep it that way. Maverick has a daughter, and I can’t have her exposed to any more of it than she already has been.”

“And what do you think staying married to me is going to accomplish?”

“Our marriage is still under wraps.”

“You’re welcome,” she says wryly.

“But it’s only a matter of time before someone catches wind of it.” I motion between us. “I could ignore Darren’s fuckup while we were in Vegas, but my phone hasn’t stopped ringing since I’ve been home. I need the stability. The band needs the stability, and if nothing else, it will shift the focus to me.”

“And you think that being married to me is going to help that? One reporter with access to the Internet will find a long list of men I’ve attended events with—rarely duplicates. One with more ambition will be able to track down any number of partners who will claim I’m a coldhearted bitch who kicked them out of bed the second we both got off. That’s not what you’re looking for.”

“So, you’re saying I’m something special then, Miss Andrews?” I tease, dropping into one of the high-back chairs in front of her desk as I try not to let my jealousy show. “Because I’m pretty sure I woke up every morning next to you in Vegas.”

“Vacation rules,” she says simply, lifting one shoulder and letting it drop.

“I see.”

“This”—she waves her hand around—“is still not vacation.”

“I promise to pick up my own socks.”

Ignoring me, she continues. “I’m not going to change my life around for you or want to hear about your day. How can that possibly help you? Don’t you want more for yourself? My work is my life. I’ve dealt with enough criticism in the last decade about it, but this is who I am.”