Cover Me Read online

  Cover Me

  Joanna Blake

  Contents

  Cover Me

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Two Weeks Later

  Two Years Later

  Two Years and Two Days Later

  Two Years and Three Days Later

  A note about the excerpt of Stud Farm

  Stud Farm Excerpt

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Cover Me

  I’m over the hard partying and easy women rock star thing. Have been for years. But when the gorgeous single mom shows up at the studio, I quickly become obsessed.

  I’ve been alone for too long. When the backup singer walks into my audition, I want her instantly. But she doesn’t fall into my arms like a groupie.

  Kat has secrets of her own. Her kid is sick and she will do anything for him. I’m too old and too damaged for her. But when we sing a duet on stage for the first time, not even she can deny our off-the-charts chemistry.

  She ignores my attempts to buy her affection. I try every trick in the book but she turns me down again and again. Finally I win her over, but it’s just for one night. A misunderstanding almost ruins our chance forever.

  I will give everything I have to prove that I am worthy of her love.

  Cover Me was previously released under the same title and has been extensively rewritten and expanded. As always, no cheating and a HEA guaranteed!

  Copyright © 2019 by Joanna Blake

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For Christina Cartner Youngren

  For being there during the best and the worst days

  I would be lost without you

  Love you to bits,

  Joanna

  Prologue

  Bruce

  “Package for you, Mr. Harrison.”

  Bruce smiled at the monitor. A square shaped man in a brown shirt and pants stood outside his gate. It was Jack, his favorite delivery guy.

  “Thanks Jack, I’ll buzz you in.”

  He padded to the front door in his workout clothes and opened it. Jack set down the package and left with a smile. He didn’t do small talk, which was the kind of thing Bruce appreciated. It earned Jack a nice fat tip every Christmas.

  Then again, Bruce wasn’t having much small talk at all these days.

  It was from Nick, all the way in London. The box was heavy so he left it on the ground and sliced it open with a pocket knife he kept in the entryway just for this purpose. It was the one he used to take camping.

  But he hadn’t been camping in years. He was too busy performing and recording. And taking care of his body.

  He could hear his buddy Nick’s voice in his head.

  Ah, mate, but what about your soul? And your ballocks. You need those taken care of too.

  Then Kendall would cut in, telling Nick to suck his balls first, and they would end up arguing and wrestling like a couple of teenagers. It seemed like yesterday Kendall was still a teenager, even though it was more than a decade ago. Nick only behaved like a teenager. At forty two, Bruce was older than all of them.

  He sighed, feeling his age. Not that he wasn’t in terrific shape. He was. Since he’d cut back on partying, he was in the best shape of his life.

  Even if he was bored out of his mind.

  He opened the box and smiled. Autographed copies of Nick’s new album lay on top, the one he’d recorded with his new girlfriend. It sounded like this was different too, and not just because they’d formed a company together and ditched his label.

  Nick sounded happy. Bloody happy, if you borrowed his favorite word. Bruce was thrilled for him, even if he was a little jealous. Kendall and Nick had both found love, real love. It should give him hope.

  Instead it made him want to give up and start boozing again.

  But he wouldn’t. He didn’t like being out of control. He didn’t like how the drink made him turn into a jackass sometimes.

  He lifted the records and laughed. There were CDs, a poster, and a folded up life sized cardboard cutout of Nick. On top there was a post-it note that said:

  In case you ever get lonely, mate.

  If only you knew, Nick, Bruce thought wearily. There was something else underneath.

  A case of organic juice. All kinds. Grape, apple, coconut, cherry, blended berries, tropical, even aloe juice, which Bruce knew from experience tasted like garbage.

  A card was tucked neatly between the various juice flavors.

  Bruce laughed, reading the card.

  Shame you won’t put these to good use, you bloody teetotaler. Fruit longs to be conjoined with alcohol. Ah well, enjoy your high horse. I’ll be here when you fall off again.

  Bruce shook his head and grabbed a record, a bottle of juice and the cardboard figure, carrying them to the living room. He put the vinyl on the turntable first, cranking it up as the music started. Then he unfolded the cardboard Nick and set him on his feet in the corner of the room. He was wearing tight leather pants and a silk shirt that was open to his navel, with scarves dangling here and there. Tattoos were visible everywhere. But it was Nick’s face that made Bruce laugh. His tongue was out, and he was grabbing his crotch with one hand, while throwing a fist in the air with the other.

  “Typical.”

  He cracked the bottle of carrot, apple, ginger juice and took a swig, toasting his friend as the music played.

  “Here’s to you, you fucking lunatic.”

  Chapter 1

  Bruce

  Bruce turned his vintage cherry red Mustang into the lot behind Sound City Studios in Van Nuys, California. He'd been recording there for longer than he cared to remember. He’d lucked out and started here early in his career. Now he was coming back again years later to put together a Vegas run, during the time some people might call the ‘golden age’ of his career.

  Those people were being kind.

  True, he still performed to sold out arenas, but that was only because of his old stuff. Nobody was interested in his newer music, just the stuff that had dominated the charts from the 1980's until about ten years ago. That's when he'd still been the hard partying rock star the fans had come to know and love.

  Hell, it had been what they expected.

  A near fatal car crash in 2010 had clipped his wings, artistically and in terms of drinking. He'd been on his way from one party to another in the Hollywood Hills. More than a few drinks in his system, but nothing that would slow him down. He hadn't even been drinking and driving. He was too smart for that. But not smart enough to realize his friend Oliver was smashed. The guy behind the wheel had been wasted, and he'd paid for the mistake with his life.

  Bruce's head had been inches from the heavy tree trunk that the car had wrapped itself around. As it was he'd suffered broken ribs, a cracked collar bone and bruises that took a long time to fade. As a wake up call, that was kind of hard to ignore.

  So he'd chilled out, taken it easy with the pain pills during his recovery, and had not more than a handful of drinks here and there in the past seven years. Almost all of those drinks had been celebratory sips of champagne. He didn't even think about drinking any more.

  Well, not too often anyway.

  The drinks had made him much more comfortable around other people, and the weird way most people treat you when you are mega famous. Without the booze, he was way less likely to pick up women, and more likely to stare awkwardly back at someone who was staring at him.

  So basically, he’d given up most of the perks of being a rock star. He didn’t miss the non-stop sex or the adoring fans. That stuff was superficial. But the social awkwardness that came from being sober and interacting with the public was brutal.

  The staring in particular was hard to take. It wasn't just because he was famous of course. He was almost as well known for his rugged good looks as he was for his music. He’d even modeled a few times for Ralph Lauren. Not for money. Just because he’d been asked to. He knew he was aging extremely well, with golden brown eyes and brown hair turning salt and pepper, with a chiseled face and strong jaw. Basically, Bruce looked like a cowboy.

  A really, really, rich cowboy.

  Hell, Bruce even owned a ranch in Nevada. With horses. It wasn’t a hobby ra
nch. He spent a lot of time there, working with the horses and writing music. Not that he had grown up out West. He was pure New England, even though he hardly ever went back East. Still rooted for the Sox and Pats though. Always had, always would.

  Women loved cowboys.

  Even more so, they loved rock stars who looked like cowboys.

  Trouble was, it was no longer amusing to have women throw themselves and their panties at him. They never wanted more than a roll in the hay, or a story to take home to their friends and their regular boring lives. The sort of normalcy he had started to envy.

  He was in terrific physical shape too, especially for a guy in his 40's. No fat anywhere, especially now that he didn’t drink. He had started training seven years ago with the vigor that he once reserved for partying. Now he ran and lifted almost every day and it showed.

  He'd never felt better in his life.

  He'd never been less satisfied.

  Bruce sighed and put the car into park, realizing that Suzanna was standing just outside the door to the studio. He climbed out and smiled. Suze was a good old girl, single handedly running things at the studio for two decades at least. He remembered when she'd been a fresh faced little thing. Everyone had wanted to get into her pants back then. Everyone.

  Maybe even Bruce.

  But she'd resisted them all. Well, supposedly she'd had one or two flings back in the day, but she wasn't the sort to kiss and tell. And now she was a grown up lady with two kids and a doting husband who stayed home to look after them.

  She was still hot though. Like Bruce, she was taking the slow road to middle age. Hell, half of Los Angles was mysteriously youthful well past forty. He grinned at her and planted a wet one on her cheek as she handed him a glass bottle of mineral water. She knew the kind he liked and kept it in stock, even if he hadn't been there to record in two years.

  "Hey Suze, how are you?"

  "Holding steady. How are you?"

  She was gazing at him shrewdly. Suze was one of the few people who saw through the celebrity nonsense. She was smart as a whip and totally perceptive. Not to mention, she had zero tolerance for bullshit. Probably why they got along so well.

  "I was just remembering the days when you'd be waiting out here with a bourbon and a groupie.”

  “Come on, Bruce. You always had half a dozen groupies waiting for you. You still would if you showed any interest.”

  He shook his head ruefully.

  “Those days are long gone.”

  “Time has a nasty habit of creeping up on you, doesn't it?"

  "That it does Suze. That it does."

  "Come on, let's get you settled. Auditions for the Vegas show today, right?"

  He nodded and followed her inside.

  Chapter 2

  Katrina

  Katrina glanced in the rear view window at the ocean of barely moving cars behind her. The view was the same through the windshield in front of her. She'd been stuck in traffic for over an hour and she was still nowhere near the audition.

  She’d had such a good feeling about this one, too. It was one she knew she could actually book. Singing backup for one of the biggest rock stars in the business was a dream gig. She’d be working with a household name. But it was rock, not pop, like most of the auditions that came her way. Something she could actually sink her teeth into.

  She was desperate for the job. For any job, really. But especially for this one. And despite her best intentions, she was late.

  FML, she thought despondently. It felt like she couldn’t win, no matter what she did these days. She needed to be on top of things. She needed to be the grownup.

  Of course, she'd tried. She even left two hours ahead of time. Living in Canoga Park was not really convenient to getting anywhere in LA, other than, well, Canoga Park. But her mother had taken her back in, and little Tommy too. Her mother provided a clean, safe place to live for Kat’s seven year old, including fresh fruits and veggies from her own kitchen scrap garden, where nothing was ever wasted. Onions and garlic were rooted, seeds were planted, Kat’s mother even used coffee grinds and eggshells to fertilize it all. She even babysat. Her mother was a lifesaver.

  Literally.

  Katrina had snuck out of her last living arrangement in the dead of night. Living arrangement… Ha! If you could call it that. She'd been in New York, living in Brooklyn with her boyfriend. Yet another musician she'd met at a gig. As usual he'd said he was totally fine with the fact that she had a kid. Kat was no dummy. She knew that most guys lied about not caring that she was a single mom.

  Not at first anyway.

  But those guys were only after one thing. She was tired of being treated a certain way because of her looks. Not one of those guys she’d dated or played with took her seriously– not as a girlfriend and especially not as a musician.

  Her long dark hair, dusky olive skin, and large green eyes helped her land a lot of gigs. Even though she was short, her long legs and high full chest made her noticeable on stage. She never had to worry about being ignored. Yeah, she got attention, but for all the wrong reasons.

  That went double when it came to dating. At first it was all wine and roses. Then the reality would set in. She had a sick kid. There were all kinds of unsexy appointments to go to, unsexy bills to pay and unsexy middle of the night care to provide.

  In short, it was not sexy.

  Jeff, her latest romantic mistake, had lasted longer than most. He even cared about the kid. She could tell it wasn’t all an act. But he just wasn't up for it. He had never said so, but she could tell he was trying to get up the courage to ask her to move out. The only thing stopping him was guilt.

  That and the sex he still seemed to want to have with her every waking moment. Even though he'd stopped making eye contact a few weeks before. Imagine having sex with someone who wouldn’t look you in the eyes. Katrina was not the sort of woman to let somebody use her as a blow up doll. So she'd left. Ghosted him in the middle of the night, with Tommy half asleep and pulling his own little suitcase on wheels.

  No muss, no fuss. It was easier that way. And her complete absence of tears on the way out had told her once and for all that her heart just wasn’t in it either.

  Now she was back home in LA, or LA-ish, and in dire need of a job. She needed to make a good life for her child. To give him a fighting chance. She needed money for that. And besides, she loved to sing. Without music her soul felt trapped, frozen. Singing in the shower didn’t cut it. To be a performing artist, you needed an audience. The bigger the better.

  This gig was especially promising. It would be prestigious, a real career builder. And it paid well enough for her to start getting back on her feet. And then some.

  If only she could get there in time.

  Chapter 3

  Bruce

  Bruce sat in the darkened sound booth, watching as they started to close down for the day. They'd seen about fifty singers. All of them outstanding, with reputable managers and track records. Any of them would do the job well, if he was honest. They were better singers than him.

  But hearing all those beautiful, cultured voices singing his greatest hits had left him cold. It was the past. Always the past. He was more interested in the future. He’d been working on a new duet, but none of the singers had inspired him to finish it.