Rocked (The Everyday Heroes World) - Julia Wolf Page 0,64
dresses and schmoozing. I want all the schmoozing.”
Laughing softly, he cupped the back of my neck and kissed me. “I think I’ve got you covered, Lady. I intend to give you all that and more tonight.”
“I’m ready.”
I was ready for tonight, but was I ready for Devon Chambers in full-on celebrity, rock star mode? That was doubtful. If I wasn’t careful, I’d get swept away in every last part of him.
Twenty
Devon
I was nervous, a feeling I wasn’t accustomed to.
Stand on stage in front of thousands of people? No big deal. I loved it, fed off it. I could do it every day and it’d never get old.
Bring Kathleen Murphy into my inner sanctum and let her see my blank life? The entire contents of my stomach kept threatening to exit my body.
Tapping on my bedroom door, I peeked inside. “How’s it going in here?”
Three sets of eyes landed on me. Kat was surrounded by a hairstylist and makeup artist my manager, Keating, had hired. I’d been scared as hell she’d be insulted, but she’d actually squealed, a sound I never pictured her making.
“Out, you. The magic is still happening.” Kat shooed me away with her hands, all while smiling and looking pretty damn happy.
The hairstylist brandished a curling iron in his hand. “Mr. Chambers, we’ll be all done with this gorgeous woman in twenty minutes tops. Let her make her grand entrance.”
That had Kat’s partially made-up eyes crinkling. “Yeah, Devon. Let me make my entrance. I’ve never made one before.”
I bowed like the classy-ass gentleman I was. “All right. Take care of my girl. I’ll be waiting.”
My stylist had sent over a few clothing options for me to pick from, so it didn’t take me long to get dressed. I chose a sleek, midnight blue suit with a crisp white shirt, no tie. On my feet, I went sockless, patent Italian loafers for shoes. Lately, all I’d been living in were jeans and T-shirts, so slipping this on felt like a costume. I looked fly as hell, but my reflection was foreign. Though my suit was custom-tailored for me, the fabric felt too small and constraining. I tugged at my collar, attempting to loosen what was already loose.
Sunnyville was the rock I’d climbed. There I was, full of pride, happiness, contentment. This life, LA and New York, were the hammer and chisel, destroying the work I’d done one hit at a time.
A tap on my door. The voice of the hairstylist. “Your girl’s ready. Are you?”
As ready as I’d ever be. I walked out into the living room, chest tight with anticipation. This really wasn’t much different than when I’d stood on Kat’s front porch, waiting for her to answer. I got the same tightness, same toe-bouncing eagerness.
She appeared, striding toward me in strappy, gunmetal gray heels. Like a queen, her dress was royal purple, hitting her at the knees in a faint ruffle. My eyes traveled up, over the curve of her full hips to the dip in her waist, the fabric hugging her every peak and valley. The wide neckline showed her chest and the soft tops of her breasts, cap sleeves draped on her arms.
She stopped in front of me. “Wow, you look pretty damn dashing.”
“Yeah?” I smoothed my clammy, nervous hands down the front of my jacket. Somewhere, Valentino was cringing. “I’ll do?”
She gave me a long once-over. “You’ll do just fine.” Then she rotated in a slow circle, revealing the scandalously low back of her dress. “And me?”
“More than fine.” I gripped her waist, pulling her close. “You’ve taken my breath, Lady. I don’t have the words.”
She brushed her red lips against mine. “Pretty. Lovely. Beautiful. Anything along those lines would be nice.”
The makeup artist flitted by with her bags, giving us both the stink eye for kissing. I paid her enough to keep her opinions to herself. I’d kiss my woman whenever she wanted it, ruined lipstick be damned.
When we were alone again, my attention returned to Kat, though it had never really left. Her golden hair spilled down one shoulder in waves, giving her the look of a fifties’ movie star.
“Fine is no good,” I said. “When I say you’ve taken my breath, I am not exaggerating. You are a punch to the solar plexus, and that is true on any day. But you look so fucking gorgeous and ethereal and sexy and confident, I might never recover.”
Her eyes stayed steady on mine the entire time, and she didn’t blush. There was no