Chapter 14 Kate
KATE
BODY FIRST, HEART LATER
He wants me?
I barely have time to catch my breath after the kiss.
My phone keeps beeping, and the press is apparently camped outside my hotel, and whatever the hell this thing with him is turning into.
Is there a pause button? Because this is moving fast, and I feel like I’m sprinting, constantly, just to keep up.
Will I ever trust this?
I’m not prepared for marriage and commitment.
I have my career, and a man will slow me down.
I can’t have feelings for him. I don’t trust myself to make decisions that will be in my best interest, rather than his.
And then there’s the cold-hearted fact that our careers will pull us in opposite directions.
How is this going to work?
This is a roller coaster of madness. I should run, but I can’t.
He’s a magnet, and my defenses have dwindled.
It’s like I’m standing on quicksand, immobilized by his eyes that sparkle and chiseled chin, not to mention his hard body and eight-pack abs-yes, eight.
I swear he’s the type of man who would be happy to be bested at anything.
He’s so smooth that he talks circles around me, and I let him. It felt good, though, too good. Too real. Him, me, us.
There is a bridge of silence between us. And then he says, “Move in with me.”
I blink. “What?”
“You heard me,” he states, his deep voice like a mafia kingpin, and it’s kinda sexy.
We’re still in my room backstage, and I can’t remember my name anymore. My skin’s still buzzing from the lights, the crowd, the rush of performing. And now this?
“I love Nashville,” I blurt. “My life’s there.”
He doesn’t flinch. “We can’t fake this if you’re living in another state.
”His voice is calm. Unshakeable. Like he’s already solved the puzzle.
“The press will have a field day. This is what it’s like to live in the era of social media.
There’s only so much you can do without it showing up somewhere. ”
I chew the inside of my lip, thinking.
“I’ll pay the rent on your apartment for the year,” he adds. “No reason not to move in with me.”
I open my mouth. When nothing comes out, I shut it. I’m utterly speechless. I’ve never had a man pick up the tab for anything besides a burger and fries. And maybe a snow cone at the state fair.
Is this an insane idea? Absolutely. But am I also flattered, rattled, and a little bit dizzy by how generous he is? Also yes.
“I’m on the road all summer,” I say, half in protest. I love throwing up obstacles. I can’t help myself. I’m doing everything I can to scare him away before I have feelings.
“I’ll be there,” he says. Just like that. Like it’s obvious. “But there’s a charity event next week we need to attend. But I’ll get you where you need to go. We’re figuring it out.”
But he’s sexy as hell, and I’m not made of kryptonite. I can only fight so much. And the way he makes promises, like it’s easy, he’s convincing. I want to believe him.
Everything’s changing too fast.
In need of a distraction, I pick up my phone and find a message from Shay that the press is camped outside my hotel. I also missed Mama’s call, which I need to postpone indefinitely because I know she’s going to ask me for money.
I look up at Finn’s gorgeous eyes, they’re like the Pacific, dark and deep. “I don’t know how to do this—relationships.”
“It’s new for me, but I’m making an effort. We’ll take it one day at a time. Plain and simple, Kate. What do you say?”
I consider his proposition. On the plus side, he’s a practice run for the real thing—the marriage to the man I hope to have in my future one day. Finn is just my starter husband. No big deal, right? I can do this.
I want to say no, but my body says yes. And the devil? He’s daring me to do it.
“Yes.”
Why the hell do I listen to the devil every time I’m at a crossroads?
And for some reason, I’m happy when relief floods his face, and he smiles, like I’ve made him happy. And God, he has a panty-dropping smile.
One minute, we’re negotiating, and the next? We’re shaking hands like business partners. We agreed to a fake marriage. One year. A deal made for mutual benefit. This is strictly transactional.
So why does my stomach somersault every time he looks at me like I’m already his?
“What now?” he asks.
“I have a meet and greet before we get on the bus. Then, I’ll ride with the band to the hotel.”
“You mean we do, right?”
“Sure, but I doubt you’ll like the hotel. My manager has a budget. And when I say budget, I really mean—it’s nonexistent.”
“That’s fine,” he says at last.
I move to the mini fries and grab a water, doing it before we head out to the meet and greet at the tour bus.
He stands politely to the side as I greet fans and sign the T-shirt the woman is wearing. I get caught up in the moment until I notice the other band members are getting on the bus.
A few of the women ask for Finn’s autograph, and he looks at me sheepishly, like he doesn’t want to intrude. I smile and nod. There’s no reason to piss off fans. We’re both public figures, so I assume it’s bound to happen.
Finn is polite, signing autographs, and we’re asked to stand together for a picture, and Finn slides his hand possessively around my waist as he pulls me to him.
Then, he surprises me when his strong arms reach out and pull me to him, and he then kisses me.
The fans erupt. It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of kiss that took me by surprise. But it was incredible. When he pulls away, my lips are still warm, and the tingling sensation that ran up my spine is still there.
Damn that man, He has a way of making me feel things I’ve never felt before.
A band member announces that the session is over, and we make our way onto the bus, which is usually chaotic, but when Finn steps in, it comes to a halt. The air becomes quiet, like the calm before a storm, quiet.
“Hi, everyone, this is my husband, Finn,” I say, hoping this will break the uncomfortable silence. “That’s Matt, my drummer, and Ken, who plays bass.” I nod to another man, “Nate, my lead guitarist, and Shelly, my backup singer. And last but not least, is Zack, he’s on keyboard.”
I walk further into the bus and take a seat. Finn follows behind me, nodding to my band members and shaking hands with them. He slides into the seat and sits beside me.
He’s so tall, it’s like he’s stuffed inside a sardine can. His legs hit the back of the seat ahead of us.
“Nice guys,” he murmurs.
“They are. I’m lucky. We get along. Some tours are miserable.”
He nods like he knows what I’m talking about.
Finn doesn’t miss a beat when the bus stops at the hotel. The bus pulls up at the back, and we walk unseen into the old hotel.
The lobby smells like stale air. The hallway has seen better days, judging from the worn carpet and walls that smell of cigarette smoke. When we reach my door, I unlock it and walk inside, flipping on the light.
Cockroaches scatter. The ancient mini fridge hums too loudly, and the bedspread looks like someone just got off it.
Finn walks into the tiny bathroom, then returns.
I keep all my things in the roller luggage, and my go-to bag is zipped to prevent bugs from nesting in it.
“Come on,” Finn says, bending over and picking up my go bag. He tosses my duffel over his shoulder like it weighs nothing. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Ray booked it,” I mutter as he moves to step outside. “It’s fine.”
He stops and gives me a look. “Kate, the towels are crunchy. The carpets are threadbare, and bugs run around like they own the place.” He looks me dead in the eye, “And they do!”
I roll my eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”
“My wife deserves better. I’ll talk with your manager tomorrow.”
Is it wrong that I love how he says, “My wife,” like I’m important?
It happens so fast. One minute, we’re arguing over the next steps in a room still smelling like a drug den. The next?
I’m letting him handle the situation. I’ve decided to pick my battles, and I can easily give in on this one. The room is disgusting.
Then, he’s typing on his phone and looks at me to ensure I’m on board.
I’m dying inside, mortified at how bad the room is, and that this is normal for me. I’m sure he can’t wait to leave this hellhole. I grab my roller luggage and my traveling guitar and follow him to the lobby.
Within minutes, a black SUV rolls up like it owns the road. Ten minutes later, we’re pulling into the circular drive of a five-star hotel I’ve only seen in TV commercials.
I stare at the valets dressed in sleek uniforms, and they open doors like MI6 has trained them. A bellhop appears from nowhere to grab my single bag—my ratty, overused, slightly-busted duffel—and suddenly I feel like a fraud.
I glance down at my scuffed boots and my skimpy dress from the performance, thinking I don’t belong here.
Finn notices how I’m shrinking, and he leans over. “You belong wherever you want to belong. Got it?”
I swallow hard and nod, even though I don’t believe it.
The lobby is a cathedral of wealth—marble floors, glass chandeliers, fresh flowers that probably cost more than a month’s salary. Finn leads the way to the elevator and presses the PH1.
I have no idea what that even means. But when he opens the door, I gasp.
Inside, it’s stupidly beautiful. Giant windows overlook the city skyline. There are plush couches. And a bed that looks like it could swallow me whole. There’s a bathroom with a tub the size of a hot tub.
I stand in the doorway, arms crossed tight. I don’t know what to do with myself. I assume we’re in the Penthouse Suite.
“This is too much,” I say.
“It’s where you belong,” Finn replies. That’s it—no apology for the grandness and no complaint about the cost.
I turn to him. “You’re not going to try anything, right? Just because we’re sharing a room—”
His eyes soften. “Kate. I’m not a caveman.”
I breathe out, the tension slowly uncoiling in my spine. “Okay.”
He gestures toward the suite. “Go ahead. Take a bath. Order room service. You’ve had a hell of a week.”
I nod and walk in slowly, but I’m still waiting for someone to tell me I don’t belong. But when no one does… Well, that’s the scariest part of all. Because part of me is already getting used to this.
Later, the lights are low, the sheets are cool against my skin, and the silence between us is thick enough to drown in.
We’ve brushed our teeth in the world’s fanciest bathroom, exchanged awkward goodnights like we weren’t tangled up in each other’s limbs just nights ago, and now, we’re lying in bed.
Together.
Finn doesn’t speak. He just slides in next to me, warm, massive, and freshly showered. He smells of expensive cologne, and his sexual energy rolls off him.
His scent curls into the space between us—minty and clean, fresh but masculine, and it’s devastating.
I keep to my side. He keeps to his. But slowly, like the tide creeping up on unsuspecting sand, I feel him shift and his body finds mine.
His arm comes around my waist. His chest presses into my back. And—oh God—he’s hard.
He’s not doing anything with it yet. There’s no grinding. No suggestive talk. It’s just—there. Solid. Ready to take me on a second’s notice.
And I liked how he claimed me.
But now? He holds me like I’m precious, like I belong in the curve of his body. Like his whole world begins and ends with my back pressed to his chest.
I try to breathe. I try like hell to think of anything else to keep my mind off the electricity flowing between and the slickness that’s pooled between my legs.
But my pulse is a drumbeat because everywhere he touches me, I feel lit from the inside. My body is alive, and desire consumes me even though I clenched my thighs. My body betrays me in a thousand small ways.
I could move. I should move. But do I? Hell, no! Instead, I turn into him. My hips nestle into him, traitorous and slow. He makes a sound in the back of his throat—a quiet, strangled groan.
His nose brushes my hair. “Kate.”
He says my name like it’s a prayer.
“I know,” I whisper. “Don’t.”
“I’m not trying to start anything,” he says, voice rough. “Just... can’t help wanting to hold you.”
“God help me,” I breathe, “I don’t want you to stop.”
We stay like that. His body was tight against mine. His arm locks me to him like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. No moves. No pressure. Just heat and restraint and a promise neither of us dares speak aloud.
And somehow, I fall asleep like that—wrapped in the arms of a man I’m supposed to be pretending with and wishing to God it were real.
After breakfast, we fly straight to Maine on his jet—his chartered jet.
It still doesn’t feel real—none of it does.
My body’s still vibrating from the concert, his offer, and the way the world is falling at my feet, and he’s built an entirely new world just for me, one filled with private jets and luxurious hotels.
But I’m from Pine Hollow, where dreams die a thousand deaths, and I tell myself this won’t last. I’m okay with that, it’s what I’m used to, but I never envisioned how my sudden popularity would change my life until we land.