He smiled and with a flick of his wrist, the Harley rumbled to life.

* * * * *

HEATH

I didn’t know what I’d done, but God knows I must have done something right for my life to be this good. It just didn’t get any better than lying there with my girl in my arms. Everything in my life was coming together. I had my girl. The band had our first record deal with a big record label, as well as a nice fat cash advance.

In a few hours we would leave for Vegas, where we would perform in front of a 20,000 strong crowd and then next month we would be heading out on a five-week tour with the Masters of Mayhem Music Festival.

Yeah, life was fucking amazing.

“What are you smiling about?” Harlow was awake and shifted beside me to lean up on her elbow. She rested her palm flat against my belly.

“I was just thinking how good life is.” I smiled up at her.

“Yeah?” Her fingers traced the outline of my shoulder tattoo. “Why?”

That was easy. “Because you’re mine.”

Her fingers found the taut curves of my belly and gently rolled over the bumps of each abdominal muscle. “Why is it that you say all the right things, Mr. Dillinger?”

“That’s because I am a very smart man.”

“Not bad looking either.”

Her lips curled into a wicked closed-lipped smile as her fingers found the black ink that flanked my right obliques. She was seducing me with her fingertips and their featherlike delicacy against my skin. They were such tiny touches but they sent pleasure to every part of my body.

“Do you know what it says?” I asked as her fingers whispered against the black ink etched into my flesh.

She nodded. “It’s the final verse to Stairway to Heaven.”

Beautiful and smart. I was so fucking pleased she was my girl.

“Why did you choose them?” she asked.

I thought about it for a moment. “I know it can be interpreted in so many ways. But to me, it’s a reminder to trust your instincts, no matter how wild they may seem.” I shivered beneath her touch as the tips of her finger swirled around the elegant script of the last sentence. “When we first started the band no-one truly believed we’d become anything. They told me to get a real job. But I just knew we could become something if we persevered. And I was right. Our hard work and faith paid off. When we released our first album, I got the tat to remind me to always follow my instincts.” Her feather-like caresses were making made me hard. “It’s a reminder to be a good person. No matter how successful you become.”

“You are a good person.”

Hearing her say it, almost made me believe it. And the way she was looking at me, the way her fingers caressed my skin, the way her dark eyes smoldered across at me … the front of my boxers started to rise. I was going to have to make love to her again.

In one swift move I rolled her until I was on top, pressing my pelvis into her. I would never get tired of this.

But the knock on the front door couldn’t have been any more badly timed.

“Ignore it,” she whispered, teasingly shifting beneath me so all I would have to do would be to move slightly and I would slide into her. My body begged me to ignore whoever was at the door. But a second round of knocking distracted me.

Growling, I kissed her and reluctantly climbed off the bed. Every part of me protested. The insistent knocking continued.

Walking down the hallway, I shoved on my sweatpants, ready to get rid of our visitor quickly so I could get back to bed with Harlow and finish what I’d just started.

When I reached the front door and opened it, fire ripped through my chest.

Straight away, I knew who was standing across from me.

I’d just come face to face with Harlow’s past.

Colton.

He smiled and I swear to God I wanted to punch him in it.

He was like something out of a fucking shaving commercial. Strong jaw. Dark eyes. Clean cut. Typically handsome. He was an unwelcome introduction to Harlow’s other life.

The one before me.

I remained poker faced despite the rise of anxiety I felt in my core. It seemed to be my only defense against such an unwanted intrusion.

“You must be the renowned lead singer extraordinaire,” he said in his thick Southern accent. He followed it up with a million dollar smile, like we were old friends. But there was something in his eyes. A wicked gleam. An arrogance. A mockery.

“I was hoping to see Harlow. I believe this is the right place. The Dillinger residence, am I right?”

Just hearing him say Harlow’s name was like a razor blade to the brain.

I didn’t want him there. I’d just found and landed the girl of my dreams—I didn’t need this polar opposite of me turning up to ruin it.

Feigning ignorance, I asked, “And who are you?”

He smiled as if privy to something I wasn’t, then looked at the gold signet ring on his pinky finger. When he looked up, he fixed me with the arrogant stare only known by those of old money and privilege.

Dark eyes fixed on mine and he smirked.

“I’m her boyfriend.”

* * * * *

HARLOW

As soon as I heard that familiar Southern drawl, I leapt off the bed and hurriedly dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top.

Quickly, I left the bedroom, ready to face my past.

By the look on Heath’s face, he had already worked out who was standing in front of him. My stomach sank. I had a bad feeling about this.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Colton said, a little smugly.

“EX-boyfriend,” I said without thinking.

At the sound of my voice, they both turned to face me.

“Well, my Harlow, you are a sight for sore eyes,” Colton beamed.

“Colton, what are you doing here?” I asked.

His eyes rolled over the length of me. When he grinned I noticed Heath’s jaw clench.

“I’m pleased to have found you, that is for sure,” he said with a high-wattage smile.

Standing closely behind Heath I asked, “Why are you here?”

He looked at Heath and then back to me, and his smile faded. “It’s Poppy,” he said. “She had a stroke.”

“Poppy?” I stepped forward. “Is she okay? What happened?”

“She was out here on business. At a vineyard just north of Los Angeles. Now she is convalescing in hospital until she is well enough to return home to Georgia.”

Poppy was the matriarch of the Labousse family. Spritely. Astute. I liked her very much. We’d spent a lot of time together over the past few years. When I’d told her about my plans to spend the summer in California, she had thought it was a good idea.

Poppy was stoic. Stubborn. You didn’t get much past her. Grey but still as elegant as the ’40s debutante that she once was, I adored her. She ruled the Labousse clan with an iron fist. Iron yes. But festooned with jewels, as she would say.

In a few weeks I would be attending the very same debutante ball she had sparkled at almost seventy years earlier.

“Oh Colton, I’m so sorry, is she going to be okay?” I forgot myself and stepped towards my ex-boyfriend. “What do the doctors say?”

“She’s stable. But too unwell to return to Georgia in her current condition.”

“Where is she staying? I should visit with her.”

“She would appreciate the gesture. She has a room at Cedars-Sinai, LA.”

I turned to Heath.

“I have to go,” I whispered.

His eyes were like an auger boring through me. He felt threatened, I could tell. But if Poppy was as ill as Colton had said, I needed to see her. Heath would have to understand.

“Of course,” Heath agreed, although I could tell he was reluctant.

“I can drive us, unless you’re otherwise …” He cast an arrogant appraisal over Heath’s tattooed torso. “Occupied?”

Heath’s hands fisted at his sides. “I will drive her.”

“You have a flight to catch,” I said quietly. “There’s no time.”

“We have a flight to catch.” He reminded me. His tone left nothing to the imagination. He didn’t want to go to Vegas without me. And he certainly didn’t want me travelling to LA with Colton.