Jamison gasped, a soft, broken sound that arrowed straight to his dick. He did groan then, moving so that she was above him, straddling him. He looked up at her, nearly came at the sight of her pursed lips, wide eyes, and oh-so-wild hair. He reached for her, would have run his hands through those fuck-me curls if Jared hadn’t chosen that moment to lean down and grab his sister’s hand.
He pulled her up even as he scowled at Ryder, his own eyes filled with a warning Ryder would have had to be blind to miss. He wasn’t sure what it said about him that he didn’t give a shit. At that moment, if Jamison had given him any encouragement, he would have grabbed her and taken off into the night. Would have told his best friend to fuck off completely.
But encouragement wasn’t what he saw on her face at the moment. Climbing to his feet, he kept a wary eye on Jared and Jamison, both of whom looked like they wanted to take a swing at him. He wasn’t sure his jaw could take it—bitter experience had taught him that they both knew how to throw a punch. He and Jared had tangled on more than one occasion growing up and Jamison…well, she’d taken exception to his and Jared’s teasing one night and ended up clocking both of them.
Still, those long-ago memories didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have his say. He might be wary, but he was nobody’s pussy, after all. “Jamison, I’m glad you’re here—”
He never got the chance to finish his thought as seconds later, Wyatt, Quinn, and Micah tumbled through the open door. They all looked a little worse for wear—Quinn was also missing his shirt while Micah’s hung off of him in long, jagged strips and Wyatt was in nothing but a pair of boxers. Not surprisingly, each of them wore wide, satisfied grins. But then, exhibitionism had never been a problem for Shaken Dirty’s members…or their groupies.
He glanced at Jamison, wondering if she would be upset. But she was smiling as she drawled, “You boys look like you had a good time.”
“You know it, Jelly Bean!” Wyatt gave her a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek before dropping face first onto the sofa. Seconds later, he started to softly snore.
Ryder caught Jared’s eye, saw his own worry mirrored there. Which only made him feel worse. Jared was a pretty laid-back, take-things-as-they-came kind of guy. Pretty much the opposite of Ryder and Jamison, though in very different ways. And if he was stressed out about the Wyatt situation, then it had to be as bad as Ryder was imagining. Maybe even worse.
He glanced between his bandmates’ faces, saw the strain they all tried to hide. And knew that his suspicions were right. This wasn’t the first time Wyatt had used. It was just the first time Ryder had caught him.
“Hey.” Steve, their bus driver, popped his head in from the front. “Everybody ready to go?”
“Yeah,” Jared said. “Let’s get out of here.”
It was a testament to just how worried Ryder was about Wyatt that they were already on the freeway heading north before it hit him.
Jamison was still on board.
Chapter Eleven
“What do you mean your sister is going on tour with us?” Ryder asked for what had to be the fifth time. He, Jared, and the rest of the guys—sans Wyatt—were in the back bedroom discussing her sudden appearance on the bus. They were making an effort to keep their voices low, but the bus was too small for real privacy. Especially when she was standing a few feet away from the closed door, doing her best to eavesdrop without actually putting a glass—or her ear—up against that same door.
As it was, she’d heard enough to make her want to sink through the floor. Jared had assured her that he would clear it with the guys before anything was decided for sure, but obviously that assurance hadn’t been worth much. Maybe it was a good thing he was on the other side of that door. If he hadn’t been, she’d be tempted to kick his ass.
“What’s the big deal anyway?” Jared demanded. “You love Jamison. She loves you guys. She’s a great cook. I don’t see the downside.”
“I don’t have a problem with it,” Quinn said. “Your sister’s great.”
“Absolutely,” Micah chimed in. “And if she’s going to cook for us, I say, hell, yeah.”
Jamison smiled at the support. She really did love these guys and it would hurt if they didn’t want her to tag along with them for a few weeks. She’d understand— or at least she told herself she would—but it would still hurt.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” Ryder’s voice, when it came, was so low she had to strain to hear it. Then was sorry she had. “I don’t want her here.”
“You know, you can’t penalize her for what happened between you two last night.”
“Whoa. What happened between them?” Quinn demanded.
“You tapped Jelly Bean?” Micah sounded more intrigued than scandalized.
“Don’t even think about it, asshole!” Ryder and Jared growled the exact same thing at the exact same time.
Then Ryder continued, “That’s not what I’m doing and you know it.” He sounded furious. “Anything can happen to her if she’s on tour with us. You know a lot of these guys aren’t trustworthy, right?”
“Which is why I talked to Max about staying away from her. The word has already spread about how you took him apart—Jamison will be fine. Plus, I feel a hell of a lot more comfortable with her here, where we can watch her, than in that dismal little apartment searching for a job anywhere she can get one.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is—just give her some money. Or if you don’t want to, then I will. She can get a decent place to live and—”
The alarm she’d set forty minutes earlier chose that minute to go off. Jamison leaped away from the door and dove for her cell phone, which was sitting on the kitchen counter next to the small stove. She blinked tears out of her eyes, shocked at just how desperate Ryder was to get rid of her. He actually wanted to pay her to go away? Had kissing her really been that bad?
Mortified heat flooded her cheeks as she bent to pull from the oven the apple cobbler she’d made from the ingredients she’d cleared out of her apartment. If she’d had any better options—or any options at all, really—she would have been out of there. As it was, she was stuck and she knew it. She wanted to put her head down and sob at the unfairness of it. She wanted her job back, along with her independence. Even more, she wanted the relationship she’d had with Ryder just yesterday. How could things have gotten so horrible between them so quickly?
She didn’t have time to cry, though. Didn’t have time to do anything but put the apple cobbler on the counter before the door to the bedroom swung wide open, the guys obviously alerted that something was up by the sound of her too-loud alarm.
Seconds later, the tiny kitchen was filled with large, handsome males, still in varying states of undress, all of them jockeying to see where the sweet cinnamon-and-sugar smell was coming from.
“You baked for us?” Quinn sounded ecstatic as he reached out and snagged a clump of the sugary crumble off the top and popped it in his mouth. He moaned a second later. “God, that’s good!”
“Jared, could you get me the ice cream out of the freezer behind you?” she asked as she reached for five plates from the cabinet next to the refrigerator.
“That’s it,” Micah said with a glare in Ryder’s direction. “Jamison stays.”
“Damn straight,” Quinn agreed.
Jared didn’t say anything—she knew he hadn’t planned on this going any other way—but neither did Ryder, who just stood there, returning Micah’s glare with interest.
Though she was embarrassed all over again, Jamison pretended not to notice. Instead, she concentrated on dishing up five large portions of dessert and handing them out to the ravenous guys.