Page 6 of True Stars Collide
The intercom buzzed and the captain informed them they’d be landing soon and to fasten their seatbelts. Zoe pressed a hand against her churning belly. Between the conversation and the impending performance she’d have to pull off in Oscar worthy fashion, her nerves were strung as tight as one of Liam’s guitars.
“Okay, Krissy said they’ve got the driver and security waiting for us and the suite at the Virgin Hotel is ready. I guess we dump our stuff and then hit the tables? Or should we just go straight out to the Strip?”
“I’m starving, so let’s eat first, hit the tables, make our mark at the hotel. Plenty of time to hit the Strip afterwards. You ready for this? Have your fans seen your new look?”
She shoved her hair back. “Some. But it’s mostly going to be girls losing their mind over seeing you and wondering who the hell your piece du jour is.”
“That’s what the suits do the best. You don’t think when they’re tipping them off they’ll mention you? The news today will be Zoe Gone Wild, wondering what the hell you’re doing with me.”
“Until tonight when a million hearts will break to learn ‘Love ’em and leave ’em Liam’ is off the market.”
He pressed a hand to his chest. “Only a million? You wound me.”
She snorted. “Oh my god. You’re too much. Can’t believe I fit in this plane with your ego.”
“Just the facts, love. We’ll have to make it good, so they buy it. Everyone knows I always swore I’d never settle down.” He winked.
“We’ve got an unlimited budget for this charade today, right? Because I’m gonna need some top shelf whiskey to pull this off.”
“Whatever you say. I don’t think you’ll need to act once we get going.”
“Same, babe.” He thought he was all that––and yes he was––but she had some tricks of her own. She’d have his balls so blue he’d be sobbing into his scotch.
The wheels hit the tarmac, startling her. She’d been so absorbed in their banter, for want of a better word, she hadn’t even noticed the plane’s descent.
Kind of like her own descent into impending madness.
The plane taxied on the landing strip. She peered out the window and sure enough, a mountain of a man waited for them beside a white stretch Bentley. Was he their driver or their security detail?
One of the benefits over the last few years was she’d been able to live without 24/7 protection. She’d loved the anonymity. Now, she looked different, she was no longer associated with the Baby Dolls, and she was out of sight, out of mind.
But if Black Velvet Machine launched again with her at the helm, she’d take the bodyguards and the paparazzi and all the negatives that accompanied mega stardom. Because she’d be the lead singer of one of the most popular bands in the world.
Well, as long as the old fans accepted her, and the new fans came on board. Oftentimes, bands could never make it again with a new lead singer, especially after icons like Austin Michaels and Tommy Ash. But it was possible, and she was different enough to make it work. Black Velvet Machine 2.0 was the dream.
And if she had to lock lips and sit in Liam Jones’s tempting lap, so be it.
The flight attendant smiled as she strolled to open the door for them. “You two are all set. Enjoy Las Vegas.”
Liam appeared in front of her and extended one square palmed hand. “Shall we do this, love?” His grin was wicked.
Why did his accent have to sound so sexy saying “love?” She exhaled a fortifying breath and linked her fingers with his. A spark of electricity flashed up her arm at the contact. “Absolutely, babe.”
Hand in hand, they exited the plane and strode to the waiting car. Her heart galloped in her chest and sweat prickled between her breasts. Not from the unforgiving Nevada sun, but from the connection to the golden beast leading her toward the future.
Would it be her best or worst decision?
CHAPTER 4
“Wouldn’t have pegged you for the type to eat chicken and waffles.”
“Yeah, you’ve definitely judged me correctly from the start, haven’t you? Chicken and waffles is one of the greatest American dishes around. C’mon babe, don’t you want a taste?” Zoe held up a forkful of chicken breast, waffle, and a strawberry, all swimming in maple syrup.
“No thanks.” He shuddered.
“The waitstaff is watching and who knows who else. Don’t you want to look like we’re lovers?” She waved the fork around, a wicked glint in her tawny eyes.
Damn if she wasn’t right. They’d attracted attention from the employees and although their table was in the back of Nellie’s Southern Kitchen at the MGM Grand, a few of the other patrons kept peeking back.