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Chapter Two
Less than six hours later, Brian was sitting in an airport terminal holding Myrna’s hand as they waited to board their flight to Oranjestad in Aruba.
“We’re missing our window of opportunity,” she said. “My egg is probably dying as we speak.”
“I thought you wanted to get away. Just the two of us.”
“I do. I just wasn’t expecting to leave today,” she said.
“That travel agent performed a miracle for us. She called every five-star resort on the island and was lucky enough to locate us a penthouse suite during the peak of the season.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. There’s always next month.” She frowned. “Except, you’ll be back on the road by then.”
“Maybe you got pregnant this morning,” he said, rubbing her back encouragingly. He wanted to give this woman the world, and he had the financial means to do that. So if they were required to go through the long and expensive process of getting pregnant with the aid of a fertility clinic, at least they wouldn’t have to worry about the cost. “We’ll give it a year, and then we’ll see a doctor to figure out if something’s wrong.”
“I know half the problem is wanting so badly for it to happen,” she said, “but I can’t help it.”
“I want it to happen too. Sometimes these things take time.”
“We don’t have limitless time, Brian. I’m already in my mid-thirties. You should have married someone younger,” she mumbled with a scowl.
Her words stung. Did she think the only reason he married her was because she’d make the most beautiful babies on the planet? And it was bad enough that his mother thought Myrna was too old for him—he sure as hell didn’t need Myrna spouting the same nonsense.
“Myrna, I didn’t want to marry someone younger. I wanted to marry you. You know I don’t give a fuck about your age.”
“I can’t help but think if I was ten years younger, this wouldn’t be an issue. I’d have been knocked up the second I got off birth control.”
“We’ve only been trying for a few months,” he reminded her. “That’s not very long.”
She bit her lip and nodded, her stare unfocused. He couldn’t stand to see her like this. Maybe she’d feel better if they utilized their narrow window of opportunity while waiting for their flight.
He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “We could go find some secluded corner and try again right now.” He slid a hand over the fabric of her dress, smiling when her thigh tightened beneath his exploratory caress.
She glanced around, and he knew she was considering it. Fuck, his wife rocked his world.
“It’s too crowded,” she said, her voice hollow with disappointment.
Brian’s cock twitched in his pants. They needed to get to their hotel in Aruba immediately.
“How long is the flight?”
She checked their boarding pass. “Seven and a half hours.”
That was definitely not immediately. He groaned.
She patted his thigh, and his cock twitched again.
“Stop thinking about sex,” she suggested, her gaze on the increasing bulge in his pants.
“You started it,” he said.
“Unfortunately, I can’t finish it at the moment. Maybe I can sneak in a handjob under a blanket on the plane.”
He grinned and shook his head. “You’re getting me wound up on purpose.”
She blinked at him, trying her best to look wide-eyed and innocent. “Who, me?”
He was just glad she’d stopped moping. If that meant a huge case of blue balls for him, he’d gladly make the sacrifice.
A few minutes later a flight attendant made a grainy-sounding announcement over the intercom to start the boarding process.
Myrna checked their seat numbers and shook her head. “That’s not us.”
He traced patterns on the back of her hand with one fingertip while they waited. And waited. The terminal was mostly empty when their section was called. Brian carried both carry-ons while Myrna maneuvered her enormous purse through the dwindling crowd. As they stood in line chatting about remembering to turn off the coffee pot and lock the door and did he remember to pack this or that, Brian became aware of the conversation behind him.
“That is him,” some guy said.
“No, it’s not,” a woman returned. “What would he be doing in Kansas City? And boarding a commercial flight to Aruba? I don’t think so. He’d be on a private jet or something.”
“It is so him. I’ve seen him onstage around a thousand times.”
Brain winced and pretended he didn’t know they were talking about him.
“Master Sinclair!”
Myrna immediately turned to see who had called Brian’s name. Damn it. It was difficult to pretend he hadn’t heard when his wife was tugging at his sleeve and nodding toward the couple behind them. He so didn’t want to be a celebrity while he was on vacation; he just wanted to be Brian. He turned and offered a courteous nod to the twenty-something guy behind him. The dark-haired, stocky man in a faded black Exodus End T-shirt had almost as many tattoos as Brian had.
“I knew it was you,” the guy enthused, showing off a rather crooked set of teeth. “I knew it. Didn’t I say it was him, Gail? I said that is fucking Brian Master Sinclair right in front of us. Didn’t I, Gail?”
“Yeah, that’s what you said,” his very tall, very thin, very blond companion said.
“Are you on vacation? Going to Aruba? I heard about the bus crash in Canada. Glad no one was hurt.”
“Our sound board operator is now paralyzed,” Brian said tersely.
“Well, glad no one important was hurt. So why are you going to Aruba?”
Dave was very important and not only because he was an amazing sound engineer. He was an all-around good guy. Myrna took Brian’s arm and tugged him toward the woman checking IDs against boarding passes.
“Delayed honeymoon,” Brian said. He turned, trying to put the guy out of his head. Brian had wanted to get away from just this kind of thing, and damned if it wasn’t following him onto the fucking plane.
“Oh. Is that your wife? I thought she was your secretary or something. I figured a rock star like you would be married to some hot nineteen-year-old blonde with big ol’ titties.” The dude laughed hysterically, ending with a loud snort.
Myrna bristled, and Brian suppressed the urge to punch the guy in his prattling mouth. Unfortunately, the dude continued to yammer at the back of Brian’s head all the way down the jetway and even inside the plane’s cabin. Brian pressed a finger to his forehead, hoping to stave off a threatening headache.
“Me and Gail are getting married this week,” the guy said. “On the beach in Aruba.”
“That’s nice.”
“We’d love for you to come. And you could even bring your wife if you want. Hey, do you guys swing, by any chance?”
“No,” Brian said, shoving their carry-ons into the compartment over their seats. He chanced a glance at Myrna, who had taken the window seat and was trying to glare a hole into their tag-along’s throat.
“That’s too bad. Gail likes to bang guitarists.”
Gail giggled shrilly at this, which turned Brian’s threatening headache to full-out pounding throb behind his right eye.
“That’s nice,” Brian said.
“We really would like you to attend our wedding, though. Will you come?”
“We have other plans,” Brian said with as much cordiality as he could muster.
“Oh,” the guy said flatly. “Well, I’m Kev. It was really awesome meeting you in any case.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Brian said, giving Kev’s moist hand a shake to finalize their interaction.
Brian flopped into his seat and turned to Myrna, striking up a meaningless conversation in hopes to deter Kev from camping out in the aisle beside him.
“He’s gone,” Myrna said after several tense moments.
“I ha
te to be an asshole to a fan, but I am not in the mood to be pestered this week.”
“He was rather insulting,” Myrna said, putting her hands under her perfect breasts and giving them a fluff.
“I can go punch him in the mouth if you want.”
