"Ready to watch your father rock this joint?"
"Yeah!" Harley replied, fist-pumping the air.
"Great!" Jax turned to face Cade and slipped his bottom lip between his teeth.
Cade was aware that all eyes were on them. On him. She just happened to be closest to him-to Jax, the star of the show. But it didn't stop her from wanting to cower away from the small crowd and from her too-sexy boss.
"I hope you enjoy the show." Jax followed his words with a wink, and then sauntered towards the centre of the warehouse-like studio.
Instruments littered the floor, and several wires snaked around them. Cade expected to see egg-carton shaped paddings on the walls, but they were plain and unadorned. There were lights hanging off the bars on the ceiling, no swinging gossamer fabrics, and the floor was lacquered cement. Groupings of leather seats and sofas were arranged to face the performers.
Bruno smiled at Cade. She wasn't creeped out by him; he didn't look like the touchy, pervy kind. He had a friendly demeanour. "Would you ladies like to take a seat?" He led Cade and Harley to one of the unoccupied sofas. "I'm Bruno, by the way, Uncle Bruno to Harley," he introduced himself, offering a hand.
Cade sat Harley beside her, lifting the little girl's feet over her lap before shaking hands with Bruno. "I'm Cade, Harley's bodyguard."
"She's also my friend," Harley added. Cade turned to her and mussed her hair.
"Ah, welcome then. Have you seen them perform before?" Bruno asked, obviously proud to represent one of the hottest international groups, and waved a hand toward the band.
This was where Cade would fail. Should she admit that she'd never even heard of them before working for Jax? Or should she lie through her teeth and say that she was a great fan?
Her answer stuck in her throat when Jax caught Bruno's attention. "Shall we get started?"
Bruno yelled, "Yes!" He clapped his hands.
As they sat and listened to the band tuning their instruments-Luke on drums, Marco on bass, JP in front of the keyboard, and Jax picked up a guitar-Cade surreptitiously glanced at the other people present. It was hard to ignore the curious looks thrown her way. The word "groupies" came to mind. There were four women sitting on the opposite sofa. While the men were dressed simply in t-shirts and jeans, these women tried to outdo each other in skin-tight leathers, barely-there tops, metal accessories, and teetering high heels. Their hair was styled in different shades of purple, pink, and blue.
Harley snuggled closer and Cade kept her eyes away from the women, although she could feel daggers being thrown at her.
The band went through three songs, stopping or pausing and restarting again according to Jax's directions. Each time a song would begin, Jax would grab the microphone, lean on it so closely it looked like he was about to swallow the darn thing, and sing something sultry and deep. His voice pulled her in and rocked her to the core. His eyes would close, then open and glance her way.
He was looking at Harley, Cade tried to convince herself. He wasn't singing only to her. There were other people in the room. Groupies, sound people, agent, assistants. They were all paying attention to him, therefore, his focus wasn't only on her.
They broke after the third song. Cade released a heavy sigh, as though she had been released from Jax's claws. She looked down at Harley.
"Do you want to head to the bathroom? You haven't gone yet." She was using it as an excuse to get away from Jax's suffocating hold.
"Later. I'm good right now." Harley straightened and jumped off the couch, shouting, "Uncle Luke!" She hugged the drummer, who picked her up and swung her around. Cade stood at attention. She didn't want Harley to have too much excitement. It would tire the girl and she'd be suffering the next day because of her condition.
"How's my girl? You're so heavy now, Har-de-har-har!" Luke held the girl under her armpits. "You're what? Ten? Twelve?"
"I'm eight, silly!" Harley made a huge gesture of rolling her eyes.
Luke glanced her way, then back at Harley. "Who's your pretty friend?"
Cade felt the blush creeping up her neck. Luke was younger than Jax by three years, but he was taller and stockier than the lead singer. He put Harley back down on her own feet, pushed his long blond hair off his face, and stretched a hand out to Cade. "Luke Masterson, drummer."
"Cade Williams, bodyguard." She shook his hand firmly, professionally. No sparks there, not that she expected any.