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Power Couple: A Marriage of Convenience Romance (The Nashvegas Series Book 1)
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Power Couple
The Nashvegas Series #1
Laramie Briscoe
Contents
Connect With Laramie
Also By Laramie Briscoe
New Release Alerts
Blurb
Prologue
Chapter 1
Bri
Chapter 2
EJ
Chapter 3
Bri
Chapter 4
EJ
Chapter 5
Bri
Chapter 6
Bri
Chapter 7
EJ
Chapter 8
Bri
Chapter 9
EJ
Chapter 10
Bri
Chapter 11
EJ
Chapter 12
Bri
Chapter 13
EJ
Chapter 14
Bri
Chapter 15
Bri
Chapter 16
EJ
Chapter 17
Bri
Chapter 18
EJ
Chapter 19
Bri
Chapter 20
Bri
Chapter 21
Bri
Chapter 22
EJ
Chapter 23
Bri
Chapter 24
EJ
Chapter 25
EJ
Chapter 26
EJ
Chapter 27
Bri
Chapter 28
EJ
Chapter 29
EJ
Chapter 30
EJ
Chapter 31
Bri
Chapter 32
EJ
Chapter 33
Bri
Chapter 34
Bri
About the Author
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Copyright © 2020 Laramie Briscoe
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
Edited by: Elfwerks Editing
Cover Art by: Laramie Briscoe
Proofread & Beta Read by: Danielle Wentworth
Cover Photography: Wandar Aguiar
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Also By Laramie Briscoe
The Haldonia Monarchy
Royal Rebel
Royal Chaos
Royal Love
Heaven Hill Series
Meant To Be
Out of Darkness
Losing Control
Worth The Battle
Dirty Little Secret
Second Chance Love
Rough Patch
Beginning of Forever
Home Free
Shield My Heart
A Heaven Hill Christmas
Heaven Hill Next Generation
Hurricane
Wild
Fury
Hollow
Heaven Hill Shorts
Caelin
Christine
Justice
Harley
Jagger
Charity
Liam
Drew
Dalton
Mandy
Rockin’ Country Series
Only The Beginning
The Price of Love
Full Circle
Hard To Love
Reaper’s Love
The Nashvegas Trilogy
Power Couple
Breach of Contract
The Moonshine Task Force Series
Renegade
Tank
Havoc
Ace
Menace
Cruise
Laurel Springs Emergency Response Team
Ransom
Suppression
Enigma
Cutter
Sullivan
The MVP Duet
On the DL
MVP
The Midnight Cove Series
Inflame
Stand Alones
My Confession
Sketch
Sass
Trick
Room 143
2018 Laramie Briscoe Compilation
2019 Laramie Briscoe Compilation
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Blurb
Everett James Thompson
I've been in the spotlight since I was born, thanks to my famous parents. Reaper and Harmony have been the gold standard when it comes to celebrity love stories. It's hard to be in that shadow, to live up to that precedent.
Which is why I stopped trying when my band Grey Skies hit the big time.
But when I go to Vegas to support my mom in her new residency I have absolutely no idea I'll leave Vegas with a new pop-star wife.
Brianna Jenkins
As one of the top pop-stars in the world right now, I don't have time for anything. Much less love, or even a night out.
When my best friend surprises me with tickets to the sold-out Harmony Stewart show in Vegas on my one off weekend of the month, I'm beyond excited. Especially when we find out our seats are next to her family. Harboring a crush on her oldest son added with a few more drinks than I normally have equals consequences neither one of us bargained for.
The next morning, I wake up no longer Brianna Jenkins, pop-star.
I'm now Brianna Thompson, member of the new power couple about to take the world by storm.
Whether we want to, or not.
Prologue
EJ
“Heeyyyy, EJ!”
Giggles greet me when my gaze travels from my cell up to a car of women, girls really, waving their hands wildly in my direction. My reaction is ingrained, a smile, a flick of my wrist back at them, and then back down to my phone.
Never make eye contact. Once eye contact is made, they think they’re in. That’s when they want backstage passes and selfies for their Instagrams. That lesson was learned the hard way.
Give too much and they will take until th
ere’s nothing left. Give too little and they talk about you on every groupie message board there is. Lying about how you never gave them an orgasm, or didn’t call when you said you would. Worse yet, that’s how I ended up on the front page of every gossip site with some chick saying I was her baby daddy. I’d never met her before in my life, but everybody wanted to believe it. Desperate to ignore any onlookers, I avert my eyes back down to my phone.
Little fucker is late again.
Calm down, EJ, you’re the older brother.
Irritation makes me take one last hit of the cigarette hanging between my lips before exhaling deeply and throwing it to the ground. With the toe of my boot, I grind the remaining filter and ashes into the asphalt of the parking lot I’m standing in. It’s a warm day in Nashville, feeling like summer even though we’re in spring. Typical of the six-one-five. Humidity makes the little bit of length I keep on my hair curl up at the ends. It tickles at the back of my neck in the down right, hot breeze. Like we’re in a fucking dryer, doing a high-heat tumble.
Leaning against my motorcycle, I cross my ankles, wishing I’d worn a long-sleeve shirt as I feel the eyes on me; at least then I could hide my tattoos. Normally I don’t mind when people look at me, it’s normal when you’re the son of one of the biggest power couples in music. I got used to it at a very young age, but today I’m trying to go a little incognito. Not so easy when you have full sleeves of tattoos on both arms, and a car-full of women have already screamed at you. The hat I’m wearing on my head is backward, and I consciously take it off, turning it around so the bill faces forward. The aviators I typically wear, I take off as well, sticking them in the neck of my shirt.
There, maybe now I don’t look so much like me.
Checking my phone again, I see a text from my little brother.
RJ: Runnin’ late, tell Mom I’ll be there ASAP!
Shaking my head, I roll my eyes as I read what he’s written. Little punk. I swear, I’m gonna kick his ass when I see him. You don’t leave Mom waiting. That’s why I’m standing here fifteen fuckin’ minutes early.
EJ: You better break some speed limits, dude. You know she don’t stand for that shit. Good thing Dad’s not gonna be here.
Our dad respects our mom like no other. He worships the ground she walks on, and god help you if you get in her way, then his when he’s busting ass for her. There are certain things you don’t do in his presence. Disrespect her, make her cry, or make her wait when all she wants to do is see her baby boys.
Regardless of that fact I’m twenty-six and RJ’s twenty-three, she still treats us, for the most part, like we’re kids. If it were up to her, she’d still have us in our rooms upstairs at her and Dad’s. She’d be making us breakfast every morning and tucking us in every night.
Thank God she doesn’t know what we do when she’s not around. I run my hand over my chin, scratching the beard I’ve started to grow. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to stand the itch, but it takes a little bit of the boyish-ness away from my face. Now, instead of a boy band member, I truly look like I’m the lead singer of a rock band.
Finally, I see my mom’s Range Rover pull in, parking not far from where I’m resting against my bike. Being the southern gentleman she’s raised me to be, I jog over, opening her door before she can even turn the vehicle off. “Hey, Mama.” I lean in, kissing her on the cheek.
“Traffic is awful,” she complains before her eyes take in my face. We haven’t seen each other in a couple of months, not face-to-face. I’ve been on tour with my band Grey Skies, and she’s been hanging with Dad while he becomes a big-time producer. She turns slightly, putting her hands on my cheeks. “EJ, you look so much like your dad, I swear. The older you get, the more you do. I’ve missed you, let me get outta this car and give you a hug!”
I grin having heard this for most of my life. Taking a step back I let her finish turning the car off, and then she’s out. my mom’s always been on the smaller side, her head comes up to my collarbone, and when I lean down to wrap her in a tight hug, I basically engulf her, picking her up off her feet. “How’s it goin’?” I ask as I let her go.
“I have exciting news.” Her eyes are shining brightly, she’s busting at the seams. “We haven’t announced it yet because I wanted to tell you and your brother first.”
“If you and Dad are having another kid in your fifties, I totally don’t wanna hear about it, because ewww.” I shudder.
She smacks me in the stomach, while I laugh. “Not even close,” she looks around. “I wanted to wait for your brother to get here and we’re seated, but I see he’s late as usual.”
“Two things you can count on in this world,” I say as I sling my arm around her shoulder as we walk toward the restaurant. “You’ll never say fuck, and RJ will be late to his own funeral.”
“Everett,” she admonishes me.
I fight back the smile I want to let spread across my lips. I say it to get a rise out of her. “Why don’t you tell me your good news?”
“Harmony Stewart has signed on to do a Vegas residency!”
“Shut the fuck up, Mom, that’s amazing!” I can barely contain my excitement for her. She gave up a lot when she had me and my brother. We seriously had the most devoted mom ever, dad too, but Mom was always there. If there was a PTA meeting, a sleepover, Cub Scouts, football, and then later band practice, Mom always made sure she was there front and center. If anyone deserves this, it’s her.
“I’m really excited and your dad’s very happy. You know we honeymooned in Vegas.” She flashes me a smile.
My parents are sickening in their love, and I don’t need a reminder of it. “Vegas has lots of opportunities.” My tone is non-committal, I’m sure she doesn’t want to know what kind of opportunities I like to partake in when I’m in Vegas.
We’re standing outside the restaurant when I hear the loud rumble from what I know is my brother’s truck. My suspicions are confirmed as he breaks out of traffic, and pulls into the lot. Loud music signals his arrival just like the muffler does. I swear, the kid will be deaf by the time we get through this leg of our tour. “RJ’s here,” I comment dryly, earning another smack from my mom.
“Be nice to him.”
I wrap my arm a little tighter around her neck so she has to look at me. “I am nice to him. He’s a spoiled brat thanks to you, Mom.”
“You’re both spoiled. Are you arguing?” she asks seriously as she waits for him to get out of his truck. “I hate it when you argue.” She puts her thumb in her mouth, lightly biting on the nail.
“No, we’re not arguing. I’m just looking forward to a few days not having to see him. Actually, I’m looking forward to not having to see any of the guys for a few days. Touring the last eight months has been crazy. Some days we’re sick to death of each other,” I admit.
“It happens to everybody who’s in a band.” She rubs my back. “Come by the house later on and talk to your dad. I’ll talk to my mini-me.” She points to my brother. “And Garrett can talk to his.”
How true those words are. As I see RJ walking our way, it hits me like it always has - we are replicas of our parents. Me of my dad, him of my mom.
“Mom!” RJ jogs toward us as he gets a good look at her.
“Rhett James, I missed you.” She opens her arms up, letting him sweep her off her feet the same way I did.
When he sets her back down, I flick the hat he wears with the tip of my finger. “She told me she missed me first, ‘cause I wasn’t late, douchebag.”
“Late night.” His tone is apologetic. I cough because I know he’s anything but.
“C’mon, boys, I want to hear all about what’s going on with both of you and make sure you can make one of my shows in Vegas. I have one I’d really like y’all to be at.”
She puts her arms through both of ours, and I wonder just how much she really wants to hear about the crazy shit we’ve done the last eight months. Instead I answer with what I think will be the safest way to get her off the
topic.
“That Vegas residency? Which show do you want us to be at?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at Rhett.
As she tells us, and we have a seat, I never think for two seconds that date on the calendar will change the rest of my damn life.
Chapter One
Bri
May
“Can you believe it?”
No, I can’t. When you're one of the biggest pop stars in the world, it's hard to get starstruck. Not to come across cocky, but it’s true. You're around the best of the best all the time, and those people become normal to you. They're your peers, friends, and to a point, co-workers. But for all of us, there are those people who we've looked up to our entire lives. They're the genesis, the pinnacle of super-stardom, and for me that person has always been Harmony Stewart.
Seeing her perform was my biggest dream as a kid. Since I was old enough to know who entertainers are and what they do. Back then my parents hadn't been able to afford to take me to a concert, and since my rise to the top, three years and counting, I haven't had a chance. But last night, my best friend Madison surprised me with tickets for a belated twenty-first birthday weekend in Vegas.