The first day home, Marissa had demanded I take her to see Mom grave, which was right beside of my father’s. From then on we would visit together at least once a month, and if I was off on tour with OtherWorld she always visited by herself with my foreman watching over her.

  Straightening, Marissa turned to wrap her arms around my waist. Tears glinted in her blue eyes as she gazed up at me. “She loved you so much, you know. You could do nothing wrong in her eyes.” She laughed sadly, shaking her head, causing her shoulder length hair to fall forward. “You’re a good man, Wroth.”

  A few strands of hair stuck to her tear dampened cheek and I lifted a hand to brush them away. But the feel of her skin under my fingertips was so soft that I couldn’t help but let them linger as I skimmed my thumb over her cheek. I’d never known skin could be so silky soft. The feel of it made my body hardened and I released her, disgusted with myself for feeling desire for the girl in my arms.

  Hastily I pulled away from her. “I’m not always a good man, Mari,” I told her honestly. She didn’t know how bad of a man I’d been when I was overseas in the marines. Killing people that could have been innocents for all I knew because I was ordered to, because it was kill or be killed. And I definitely wasn’t a good man right now when the sudden need to kiss and touch and make bone melting hot love to her was overwhelming me.

  I stared down at my mother’s headstone for a moment, silently asking for her forgiveness for feeling this way for the one person I’d always promised her I would protect and cherish. The feeling of relief for her forgiveness didn’t come and I turned away with the sudden choking feeling of being unable to breathe. “We need to go,” I grumbled over my shoulder.

  Marissa didn’t protest as she climbed into my truck and I drove us back to the farm. She was quiet on the ride home, shooting me concerned glances across the seat. My fingers gripped the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles were turning white and aching as I attempted to control my sudden need to reach across the seat and pull her into my arms and devour those luscious lips she was now tormenting by biting them.

  As soon as we got home, I locked myself in my room and took care of the ache that was tightening my balls. But no sooner than I’d taken care of it I heard her voice outside my door as she asked if I was okay and my body began to ache all over again. It would have been so easy to just open the door and pull her into my room. I could have spent hours teaching her all about the pleasures of sex. There wasn’t anything wrong with it. She was nineteen, after all, more than old enough to have a lover.

  My dick pulsed at pictures filling my mind at all the things I could teach Marissa. But it was my heart and brain that screamed at me that I wasn’t going to do that. No way was I going to take something that I wasn’t good enough for. Right then it was only desire fueling my need for her, not love. Although it would be all too easy to fall for her. But Marissa was too sweet, too pure and innocent to defile her just for the pleasure of having her tight little body wrapped around my dick.

  I cared about Marissa, and I wanted her with a need that I’d never felt in my entire life, but I couldn’t contaminate her with my dirty past. I wouldn’t.

  The feel of a soft, cool hand on my arm jerked me back from my memories of the first time I’d realized that I wanted Marissa. Startled, I looked up into a pair of blue eyes, but they weren’t the blue ones that I had come to love. Dallas gave me a small smile as she took the empty glass of tea from my hands and replaced it with a fresh one. “Easy there, tiger. It’s just me.”

  I blinked at her and then glanced around the room, noticing that more people had arrived but there was still no sign of the one person I ached to see with every fiber of my being. I glanced down at my watch and realized that it was more than thirty minutes past the time the dinner was supposed to start. “Where’s Rissa?”

  Dallas shrugged. “I have no idea. I guess she and Natalie are running late.” She patted me on the arm. “Don’t worry, big guy. She’ll be here soon enough though.”

  Chapter 2

  Marissa

  When the cab pulled to a stop in front of one of New York City’s most exclusive clubs, I didn’t blink. The fact that there was a line to get into the club that wrapped all the way around the block didn’t surprise me either. What bothered me was that they were all lined up, despite the sign that was on the door that said that the club was closed for a private party tonight. Obviously everyone knew who was inside the club and were hoping for a photo-op…

  Or, from the looks of the outfits of some of the girls standing outside the front doors where three large bouncers were keeping everyone back behind the velvet ropes, they were there in the hopes of a hookup. As I stepped out of the back of the cab after Natalie, I was shocked to see that some of them had signs that said “I Can Give You A Baby Shane! Drop The Wife And Come Be With A REAL Woman!”

  I actually felt sick after reading that trash. I wasn’t sure how the news that Harper couldn’t have a baby had gotten out, but it had hit the tabloids a few weeks ago following a doctor’s visit Shane and Harper had had with a specialist in fertility in Germany. I knew exactly when Natalie got a look at the sign because she approached the burly bouncers with her body nearly shaking with outrage.

  “You get those bitches out of here before my brother sees them and commits murder,” she commanded. “If anyone shows up with anything—ANYTHING—like that you get them a cab and send them to the other side of the city. Understand?”

  The middle bouncer simply nodded while the one on the right moved forward to follow her orders. I rolled my eyes when the three chicks that had been holding the signs started protesting as they were led away. I wasn’t a violent person, but I would have taken pleasure in getting to slap those three idiots a few times. Harper was a sweet girl and the fact that she couldn’t have a baby was killing her.

  After throwing out a few more commands, Natalie opened the door to the club and I followed her inside. “Motherfucking bitches,” she kept muttering under her breath.

  I bit my lip. “Do you think that anyone else saw that?”

  “I know that Emmie didn’t, because they were still standing there. And I know that Shane hadn’t, because they were still breathing.” Natalie handed her purse over to the coat check girl then offered the girl mine. “So either they aren’t here yet, or those idiots haven’t been there very long.”

  I glanced at the watch on my wrist and figured that it was the latter considering that we were running late for dinner by more than an hour. It was my fault that we were late. I’d wanted to do a few things before I had to face everyone—well, someone. A haircut wasn’t something that was going to change me drastically because I simply refused to chop off my hair like Natalie had done. Although I was glad I had been able to talk her out of actually shaving her head, but the haircut she had decided on was not far off. She was rocking the pixie cut that some French guy with a lot of attitude had given her.

  The new hairstyle looked cute on her, but I was mourning her hair for her.

  I’d figured if she was going to change something about herself so that she could feel like she was putting the past behind her and moving forward with her life, then I needed to do something dramatic like that too. Getting my nose pierced was about as rebel as I was going though, because my nose was sore as hell right now. Still, I thought the stud in my nose was hot and worth the nose bleed I’d had for a few minutes afterwards.

  The new piercing—fine, my only piercing other than my ears—along with my new outfit gave me a new confidence that I was planning on rocking tonight.

  As we turned toward the bar where music was playing but at a moderate level compared to what it would have been if the place had been open to the public tonight, Natalie ran her fingers over her hair again. At least she had donated her hair to Locks of Love once I’d explained to her what it was, which made me feel a little less sad since her hair was going to a good cause. I’d never wanted a wig when I’d lost all my hair after chemo, but I w
as sure there were some little girls out there that would be happy to have one made out of Natalie Stevenson’s glorious hair.

  “How do I look?” Nat asked me nervously.

  I let my eyes rove over her from head to toe. The haircut made her blue-gray eyes pop out more and actually highlighted her soft, feminine features. The new silver dress she had bought after trying on the entire store hugged her slight curves. The killer heels that we had shopped for longer than the actual dress, made her legs look longer. “You’ll make him sweat, sweetie.”

  Her eyes darkened for a moment before she smiled. “Thanks. And I know that Wroth will lose his mind when he gets a look at you in that outfit.”

  I glanced down at my knee-high stiletto boots over black leggings that I was wearing under the short sleeved, yellow sweater dress that both hugged and hid my very, very curvy body. I wasn’t tiny by anyone’s standards, which I knew for a fact. But the added weight that I couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard I tried because of my stupid thyroid didn’t bother me all that much—with a few exceptions. I preferred this body to the skeleton I’d been after my battle with cancer.

  “Okay, let’s get this over with,” Natalie grumbled, turning and leading the way toward the distant sound of talking, laughter and music.

  As we entered the bar, I took most of the room in all at once. The bar top was loaded down with a buffet of foods: prime rib, French fries, green beans, mac and cheese, salad, grilled chicken breasts, and even an assortment of desserts. The delicious smells caused my stomach to growl and I realized that with all the running around today that Natalie had to do, followed by our little makeovers, we hadn’t had time to stop and have lunch.

  My gaze shifted from the food to the rest of the room in the blink of an eye and I saw four different bands scattered around the room along with an array of children that ranged from the ages of sixteen to less than a year old. Lucy Thornton was sitting at a table in the back of the room with Harris Cutter, glasses of soda in their hands as they sat talking and laughing. Axton was standing with Nik Armstrong and two members of Alchemy, I couldn’t remember either men’s names. Drake Stevenson was sitting at a table with Liam and Linc while he held his sleeping daughter against his chest.

  Two little boys that shouldn’t have been as big as they were since they had been preemies toddled back and forward under the feet of their parents and loving family members. My heart melted at the sight of Luca and Lyric Thornton getting into mischief. Those two little monsters were the image of their father and left me aching for one of my own. Layla was keeping a keen eye on them, but the room appeared to have been baby proofed for tonight.

  Emmie Armstrong, with a drink in one hand and her son hanging off her hip noticed us as we entered the room and nearly spit out her mouthful of soda when her green eyes landed on Natalie’s hair. Those big green orbs widened and she pushed her son into the arms of his waiting nanny before rushing forward.

  “Holy shit,” Emmie murmured as she took hold of Natalie’s arms. “What the hell happened to you?”

  Natalie shrugged. “I needed a change.”

  “So you lost your mind and chopped off a part of yourself? Gee, way to follow the example of every other heartbroken chick in the world.” Emmie glanced behind her, making sure that no one else had seen us yet, before turning back to her assistant. “Do you honestly think that your brother’s won’t ask questions now that you’ve done something like this? They’ve already been suspicious after the fall tour and the way you kept avoiding the OtherWorld bus and both Devlin and Zander. I’m not going to be able to keep them from questioning your sudden need to shed your freaking hair.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about my brothers when I decided to cut my hair,” Natalie muttered. “I just wanted to get rid of my hair. It was too much of a reminder…” She broke off and clenched her jaw.

  Emmie’s face softened for a moment. “I can understand that. Just be prepared to field questions from Drake and Shane… And try to act like being around Devlin and Zander doesn’t make you want to stab one in the eye and cut the other’s dick off.”

  A small giggle escaped me, because honestly that was exactly how Natalie felt when she was around both men. But Emmie had a point. Natalie had made it plain that she didn’t want her brothers to know about the reasons why she now hated two of their friends with a burning passion that she had once loved Devlin Cutter with. She hadn’t wanted her brothers to have a falling out with the two men and had sworn everyone to secrecy. The only reason that Emmie even knew was because she had been unable to keep her boss out of the loop once Devlin and Zander had trashed a club when the proverbial shit had hit the fan, leaving Zander with cracked ribs and Devlin with a concussion.

  Natalie blew out a long sigh and nodded her head. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “Good.” Emmie gave her arms a little squeeze before turning to greet me. “Fuck, you look beautiful. I’m digging that nose ring. When did you get that?”

  “About forty-five minutes ago,” I told her with a tight smile. “Figured it was time to get rid of at least one of my virginities.” Next I was going to get a tattoo so that I no longer had virgin skin, and then that would leave me with only one virginity left. You know, the one that girls my age didn’t have. The one that Wroth Niall had point blank told me he hadn’t wanted before he’d gone and screwed some slut.

  Wroth

  The room was loud with laughter, talking and music and I heard none of it. I was trapped in my own thoughts, my own misery. My self-hate.

  I didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be going back on tour in just a few days. I’d much rather be back in Tennessee working on the farm, hiding away from the world. That wasn’t possible though. Not because of the band—fuck the band. They would be just fine without me. Unfortunately, I needed the band.

  The band was my last connection to her.

  Damn, I was pathetic. And an idiot. A stupid, pathetic idiot. Over the last year I’d done nothing but make one mistake after the other with the only person who has ever—ever—meant anything to me. Since Marissa had left me, walked away and never looked back, I’ve been in a dark place. Darker than I had ever been when I’d first gotten home from my deployment in Afghanistan when I was in the marines. At least back then, I’d had a sweet-faced, twelve-year-old Marissa to come home to. Now I just had a house that was empty of the sunshine she had always brought to it, a heart that felt dead.

  Scrubbing a hand over my face, I just barely refrained from cursing aloud, knowing that all the mothers in the room would make their husbands kick my ass if not actually do it themselves. When a nineteen-month-old pair of identical monsters walked by my table that no one else had seemed brave enough to approach in the last hour, I forced back my tormented thoughts and an involuntary smile broke free for the twin that was now trying to climb up my leg.

  I haven’t been around Jesse’s boys very much, so I had no idea which was which. Their mother dressed them as differently as possible so that people who didn’t see the twins on a regular basis could tell them apart, but I still had no clue which one was determined to now sit on my lap. Helping the kid out, I carefully lifted him the rest of the way up and placed him on my lap, facing me. “What’s your name, kid?”

  “That’s Luca,” a pregnant Lana murmured with a smile as she passed me with a plate of food in her hands. “Be careful with that one, Wroth. He’s trouble.”

  I raised a brow at the kid who glanced up at his aunt as if she had just revealed government secrets. Laughing, she paused long enough to brush a kiss over the top of Luca’s head before heading on her way. Once Lana was out of his sight, Luca turned his full attention back to me. “So, you’re the trouble maker?” Luca gave me a toothy grin and grabbed my shirt with both little fat hands before pulling himself into a standing position. I had very little experience with kids of any age so I had no idea what I was doing, but instinct took over and I held onto the little guy’s waist as he released my shirt and started jabbering l
ike we were old friends. When I felt a tug on my pants leg I found another little monster trying to climb my leg, wanting in on whatever fun his brother was having.

  Laughing for what felt like the first time in a century, I lifted the second twin onto my lap and they both stood there jabbering at me, nodding their heads, and giving me grins that produced an outrageous amount of drool. I had no idea what either kid was talking about, but assumed it was about their adventures thus far in their young lives.

  “Never thought I would see the day when Wroth Niall had a kid in his arms, let alone two.”

  My head snapped up at the sound of Jesse Thornton’s deep chuckle. The twins’ attention went straight to their father, and after only a small hesitation the second twin—Lyric, I remember his name being from when the kid was first born—held his hands out for Jesse. Luca, however, gripped my shirt tighter. Jesse lifted his son into his arms, still grinning down at me. “But at least my boys were able to make you look less like some homicidal maniac. Seriously man, you were scaring the shit out of me for a little while there. You need to relax before you have a stroke or something, dude.”

  I grunted, knowing that Jesse wasn’t kidding about the scary way I was looking tonight. I knew that I was a scary looking man, with a voice that made most little kids cry. Which was why I’d been so surprised to have the twins want to approach me let alone want me to hold and talk to them. Of course, they looked kind of fearless. Meaning they had bigger balls than the men that worked on my farm back in Tennessee. These days even my foreman ran the other way when he saw me coming. I’d been moody, and a moody me was not something that people enjoyed.