Connor frowned. “Lyric isn’t that bad.”

Nathan chuckled. “He wasn’t referring to Lyric. Interesting things happen when our women get together.”

Gray knocked on the door and the three waited. A moment later, Sam opened the door and gave them a slightly wary look. He crossed his arms and managed to fill most of the doorway as if he was reluctant to let them past.

“The ladies are currently unavailable.”

“Oh shit,” Nathan muttered.

Gray wiped a hand over his face and just shook his head.

Connor eyed them all in confusion.

“Perhaps it would be best if you waited in the sitting room while I inform the ladies that you are here,” Sam said.

“Hell, Sam, we’re not going to beat them,” Gray grumbled.

“He’s way protective of the women,” Nathan whispered to Connor. “He spoils them shamelessly and indulges them in their every whim.”

Sam glared at Nathan. “I do not.”

“Sam, what’s going on?” Damon asked from behind Sam. “Why haven’t you invited them in?”

Sam turned and grimaced. “Have you been in to see the ladies yet, sir?”

Damon frowned and shook his head. “Micah and I have left them to their own devices.”

Sam sighed and stepped back so that Connor, Nathan and Gray could enter. “They’re having fun. Remember that.”

Micah muttered an expletive, and Damon’s forehead creased with worry.

Connor fell into step between Micah and Damon and Nathan and Gray as they headed farther inside the house. As they drew closer, peals of laughter filled the air. Then there was quiet. And suddenly another chorus of laughter.

Damon held up a finger, motioning for the men to be quiet as they rounded the corner and stood back from the doorway to the living room.

Connor blinked as he absorbed the scene in front of him. “What the ever-loving hell?”

He stared in astonishment as all five women, each holding a wineglass with the exception of Angelina, were gathered in the middle of the room dancing. Perhaps more notably, every last one of them had blue hair! Or at least partially blue. The last two inches of their hair looked like it had been dipped in blue dye, and he supposed that was what had happened given that Julie was a stylist.

Faith and Serena each had an arm around Lyric while Angelina and Julie stood across from them, and they were all singing loudly. Or trying to. They’d get a few lines out and then dissolve into laughter.

They swayed and danced, though it was obvious copious amounts of alcohol had compromised any grace they possessed. Faith nearly went down and Lyric made a grab for her. Faith held up her wineglass—it was a miracle the floors weren’t covered with wine—and the women cheered.

“It’s a sin to waste good wine,” Serena said solemnly. “Damon always says so.”

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said that,” Damon muttered beside Connor.

“I’ll drink to that!” Faith said as she raised her glass.

Julie held up her glass with exaggerated solemnity. Lyric followed suit, then Serena. Connor gaped as they drained their glasses, then set them down with a bang.

Angelina shot them disgruntled looks and stuck out her bottom lip.

Julie patted her. “We’ll get together after Nia is born. Micah can babysit and we’ll take you out. Lyric could even fly in for the occasion. Don’t all you rock stars have private jets and the like?”

Lyric held up her empty glass and peered inside it as if wondering how it got that way. “Yeah, sure. I’ll tell my manager I want one. Should be a snap.” She tried to snap her fingers and giggled when she couldn’t get her fingers to perform right.

“Well, if not, I’ll make Damon send his jet for you,” Serena promised.

“I’m not letting you forget this,” Angelina said.

“Well hell,” Micah muttered from his position behind Connor.

Nathan snickered and Gray wiped at his wide grin.

“Boy, does this bring back memories,” Gray said with a chuckle. “The last time they got this drunk, Nathan found them all on the floor of Cattleman’s.”

Connor sighed. Then he laughed. He couldn’t help it. They were all pretty damn cute. Drunk as skunks and about as steady as an alcoholic who hadn’t had a drink in twenty-four hours.

“So who’s going to break this up?” Nathan asked.

“Or we could just leave them,” Damon said.

Serena pulled loose from Lyric and Faith and stumbled over to the coffee table where several empty wine bottles rested. “Uh-oh. We’re out of wine. Sam? Sam! Sam, we need more wine. Can you bring us some?” she called.

Connor looked at Sam with new respect. “What all have they had you bring them, anyway?”

Sam straightened his stance. “It would be disloyal of me to give any detail of their afternoon.”

“Is that hair color sticking out of your pocket?” Damon asked as he stared down at Sam’s pants.

Sam clamped his hand over his pocket and backed away. “I’ll go see to their wine if you have no objections, sir.”

Damon laughed and looked up at the other men. “Well, what do you say? We can go out on the patio and have a beer or two while we wait for them to wind down. Unless you need to go, Connor?”

“Nah. I’m having her stuff removed from her hotel right now and transferred to the house we’ll be staying at. Her label has rented a place for her to stay and the team has gone ahead to take make it ready and take position.”

“Then let’s go have a beer. Sam will take good care of them and we can check on them later.”

“I have a confession to make,” Lyric said as she flopped onto the couch. She leaned forward and put her finger over her lips. “But shhhh! You can’t tell anyone. If it shows up in the tabloids, I’ll know you told.”

“Of course we won’t tell,” Faith said as she slashed her fingers over her chest in a cross-my-heart gesture.

“Spill,” Julie said. “I’ve always wanted to know the deep, dark secrets of the rich and famous.”

“I can’t dance,” Lyric slurred out.

The other women broke into laughter.

“What do you call what we’ve been doing for the last hour?” Serena demanded.

Lyric held up a finger, though it waved precariously. “Performers can do just about any ridiculous move onstage and it looks cool. But really, if you really look at it, it’s hysterical. I have no rhythm. I never could dance. I just sort of make up stuff as I go, but once, I got carried away and tripped onstage. For weeks the magazines reported that I’d been high while performing.” She shook her head back and forth. “Nope. Never been high.” She giggled. “Until now. I just can’t dance.”

“Assholes,” Faith said solemnly. “Shitheads.”

Angelina cracked up. “Are you practicing your naughty words, Faith?”

“Fucktard,” Julie added.

Serena got into the spirit. “Pissant. Dickhead. Twat.”

Lyric covered her ears. “You guys have to stop. I’m not used to such vulgar language.”

They all stared with raised eyebrows while Lyric blinked innocently. Then they all fell back in their seats and died laughing again.

Sam appeared, looking discomfited. He held two bottles in his hands but hadn’t opened them. “If you would pardon the observation, I can’t help but think maybe you’ve had enough to drink today. I wouldn’t like for any of you to become ill.”

“Does that mean he doesn’t want us to puke?” Julie asked blearily.

“That too,” Sam added.

Lyric waved him off. “Fine by me. I hate puking. Did I tell you guys I don’t drink?”

“Yeah, you did,” Julie snickered. “No one resists our charm for long. And it’s not every day we get to be a bad influence on a pop diva.”

Lyric yawned widely. “I’m tired.”

Faith patted the pillow at her hip. “Lie down and get comfortable.”

“Not a bad idea,” Serena said. “Maybe then the room would stop spinning.”

Lyric sprawled on the couch and leaned against Faith. She meant to close her eyes for just a moment but the next thing she knew she was being gently shaken awake.

She blinked but all she could make out was a blurry face. His mouth moved and she could swear he sounded like Connor—if Connor were to talk to her through a really long tunnel.

She frowned and tried to shove him away, then snuggled against Faith’s hip again. Faith’s hip? Lyric pushed herself up to see that Faith was passed out, half hanging over the arm of the couch. Lyric was sprawled over Faith and when Lyric looked down, she saw that Serena was half lying over Lyric’s legs.

Julie was sprawled in an armchair and only Angelina was awake and alert, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Then Lyric glanced around to see that the room was full of men who were all valiantly trying to keep from laughing. She scowled at them all but it only broadened their grins.

“What in God’s name did you all do to your hair?” Connor asked in exasperation as he fingered one of Lyric’s blue tips.

“At least they didn’t get tattoos,” Gray muttered.

“Don’t give them any ideas,” Nathan snapped.

Serena stirred and lifted her head, her eyes so blurry that Lyric was sure she had no clue where she was.

“Who’s talking?” Serena demanded. “Sam, make them shut up.”

Damon chuckled and reached down to run his fingers through Serena’s hair. “Does your head hurt, Serena mine? It should. You put quite a dent in my wine cellar.”

She sighed and arched into his touch, and it was then that Lyric saw the intricate gold band around Serena’s upper arm, bared when her sleeve rose with her movements.

Damon’s hand ventured lower to stroke the band, his fingers tracing the lines. He stroked her skin and the jewelry in a possessive manner that clearly told anyone watching she belonged to him.

It made Lyric’s chest tighten in a funny way she didn’t understand, and she shifted to alleviate the discomfort.

“We need to be going, Lyric,” Connor said.

She appreciated that he kept his voice low. She already felt overwhelmed. And while it had been fun while it was going on, she was pretty sure she never wanted to drink again.

Connor chuckled. “That’s what everyone says after the high is gone.”

She cracked her eye open again as she realized she’d spoken the last part aloud. Or maybe he was just a good mind reader.

“I can’t get up,” she said. And she couldn’t. “I can’t even feel my legs.”

“That’s because I’m lying on them,” Serena volunteered.

Damon laughed and then reached down and lifted Serena from the couch.

“Faith is comfy,” Lyric mumbled.

Connor carefully slid his arms underneath Lyric and she found herself lifted weightlessly into the air. It was a little disconcerting since the room immediately began spinning again.

She glanced over to see Nathan leaning over Julie in her armchair. Micah sat next to Angelina and both of them looked on with amusement. She glared at Angelina. “Don’t forget you’re next. And I’m damn well flying in for it.”

“Say good-bye, Lyric.”

Lyric held up a hand and fluttered her fingers. “Good-bye, Lyric.”

“Smart-ass.”

“You’re such a party pooper, Connor,” Faith said with a frown. “We were just starting to really have fun and now you’re taking her away.”

Gray snorted. “Baby, you were all passed out cold on the furniture. I’d say you already had more fun than human beings should be allowed.”

Lyric laid her head on Connor’s chest and sighed. “You have a really nice chest, Connor. Has anyone ever told you that?”

He grunted in response and started toward the door.

“Bye, everyone,” she called back. “Love you all.”

“We love you too!” the women chorused.

The men rolled their eyes and Connor continued on out of the living room. Sam appeared at the door to open it for Connor. Then he followed Connor to Lyric’s BMW and opened the back door so Connor could slide her in.

“Take care of yourself, Miss Lyric,” Sam said.

She smiled and blew the older man a kiss. “You rock, Sam. I’m going to steal you away from Serena.”

He smiled and then retreated, closing the door behind him.

“If you ever need me, don’t hesitate to call,” Sam said to Connor.

Connor hesitated, wondering just what this man’s background was. “Thanks. I appreciate that, and I’m sure she does as well.”

Sam turned to walk back to the house and Connor slid into the driver’s seat. He glanced back at Lyric in the rearview mirror to see that she was already out like a light, sprawled across the backseat.