Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade Book 5) (18 page)

I laugh. "He is."

She turns back to me. "I know that slowing down won't be enough. You'll need him around to raise a baby with you, but you can figure it out. You can come on the road some of the time. He won't quit the band. Hell, I won't let him."

"You're going to convince Drew of something?"

"Yeah, you're right." She nudges me. "He's almost as stubborn as you are."

"Almost?"

She laughs. "Five percent more."

"At least ten."

"You know what, for you, fifteen percent."

I laugh. "I'll take it."

She shifts away from the wall. "I don't know if Miles and I will ever decide to have kids. We're both on the fence. But... whatever we decide, even if my life looks nothing like yours in ten or fifteen years, you're going to be my best friend." She squeezes me. "You're stuck with me."

I squeeze her back. I'm lucky to have this much love in my life. Even if it's overwhelming sometimes. I break the hug and look at her. "Go have sex with your husband."

She squeals. "Can you believe he's really my husband now?"

"You've never looked happier."

"This marriage thing is great."

"It's been a whole twelve hours."

"Twelve amazing hours." She leads me back into the restaurant.

She nods to the table. Pete, Jess, Willow, and Miles are sitting, not at all hiding how they're staring at us.

Meg shakes her head. She motions to Drew and Tom talking outside. "Go be with your baby daddy. You two are living happily ever after. I won't allow anything else."

"We're not married. We're living in sin."

"So it's a sinful ever after. That sounds more fun anyway."

I laugh. It does sound more fun.

I lean in to whisper. "Promise you won't start touching my stomach and talking about miracles."

"Cross my heart and hope to die." She nudges me toward the other door. "Talk to him. You two have to do this together."

She's right. I nod goodbye to everyone as I pass.

I need to know Drew has this under control. I need to know it's going to be okay.

Please let it be okay.

––––––––

D
rew

Kara steps outside. She's still shaking. It's almost imperceptible, but then I notice everything her body does.

Tom turns instantly. His brows knit together. The guy doesn’t exactly hide his feelings.

"Did you..." Her eyes go from Tom to me. "Could one of you convince me this is going to be okay?"

Fuck. I must be neglecting something if she's looking to Tom for reassurance, but I can't promise yet.

Tom stares at me like I'm about to turn into The Incredible Hulk. "Drew..."

I move close enough to Kara that I can look into her eyes. "I promise it's going to be okay. Meet me tonight, after dinner."

Her eyes fill with confusion. "Where are you going?"

"To make this work." I brush her hair from her face. There's still a lot of apprehension in her eyes. "I need to make sure it will work."

Tom shakes his head. "If you need to go, do it. But don't be all enigmatic and shit. I can fill her in." Tom shakes his head. He turns to Kara. "How do you put up with him?"

"Good body," she says.

Tom nods in agreement. "And the shit about him being good with his hands?"

She smiles. "That too." Kara stares into my eyes. "I trust you, baby. But I'll feel a hell of a lot better knowing more."

I want to tell her more, but I'm not sure I can say it aloud again.

I pry my lips apart, but the words don't fall. I need to get over this fast. I only have twenty minutes to spare.

I pull Kara into a tight hug. "You okay hanging with Tom and Willow for the rest of the day?"

She nods into my chest. "What is it you're doing?"

"Finding a way to be in two places at once." I lean down to kiss her. It's short and sweet. God, how it's sweet. Whatever happens, I'm not losing Kara.

I'm not giving up on our family.

If I have to choose between her and the band, it's her by a landslide. But I'm doing every fucking thing I can to make sure it doesn't come to that.

Gonna have to admit it in about nineteen minutes.

She takes a step backward. "Go make it happen, baby."

Tom shoots her a
really?
look.

She returns it.

"Don't look at me. He's your baby daddy," Tom says.

"He's
your
brother now." She teases Tom.

"Brother-in-law." Tom shakes his head. "Can you believe my poor wife has to put up with this shit?"

Kara smiles, her mood lightening. "No, I can't believe she married you. I have no idea why she did that."

"Course you do." Tom nods goodbye to me and leads Kara toward the restaurant. "I'm a fantastic lay. And I'm hot as fuck."

She laughs.

"Plus, I'm rich."

"I think she actually likes you for you."

"And you don't?" Tom asks.

Kara laughs. "You've grown on me."

"No, only on her," Tom says.

Kara bursts into a fit of laughter.

Tom opens the door for her. Once she's inside, he turns back to me. "Don't fuck this up, Guitar Prince. She's the best thing that ever happened to you."

The nickname is meant to bait me. Or it was. At this point, it's more of a pleasant familiarity.

Truth is, I deserve the nickname. I put guitar, and what I wanted for the band, ahead of everything else for far too long.

Not anymore.

***

The lights in the club are on. They turn the stage into someplace normal. It's not a pedestal, but a place to stand and practice.

I know how to practice. The guitar laid out for me isn't nearly as good as mine, but it's more than enough for this.

I take the stairs one at a time. The stage feels bigger like this. The room too.

Can't remember the last time I was this nervous getting on a stage. Don't think I've ever been nervous getting on a stage in an empty room.

But, fuck, if I don't get this right...

My only choice is getting this right.

I sling the guitar over my shoulders, pull a pick from my jeans, and tune the damn thing. The familiarity of practice takes over as I work my way up the strings. Then it's scales.

My friends might think I'm a diva. Maybe they're right. But it's not about my ego. Not usually. I love the strings of a guitar, the way they feel against my fingers, the way they respond to me. Playing is the only thing that makes sense.

Until Kara.

I close my eyes and play the first intro that comes to me. It's the song I know best.
No Way in Hell
. Must have played this song a few thousand times by now. It's our biggest hit to date. Fans riot if we go too long without playing it.

Thank fuck it's one of our most fun songs. My fingers fly over the fretboard. Music flows through the room. It bounces off the walls and back into my ears.

By the time I finish, I'm in a trance. I play another half a dozen songs. Each flows into the next. My hands are always a few steps in front of my head. They lead the way as I finish the last song on our set list.

The stage lights are bright enough that it's hot. I'm dripping with sweat. I lift my shirt to wipe my forehead.

There's Ethan, standing in front of the stage, his guitar slung over his shoulder.

He cocks a brow. "Don't need the sexual favor, Denton. I'm happy to be here."

His lips curl into a smile. I don't know Ethan too well, but I know the type. His cocky attitude is a front. Got no clue what he's hiding behind it, but then people aren't my expertise.

Guitar is.

The man knows his way around the instrument, and he's willing to help.

I motion for him to join me on stage. "Of course. I am
the
Drew Denton."

Ethan laughs as he climbs the steps to the stage. "Heard a lot about you from everyone but you."

"Anything good?"

"Couple of rumors about you having a threesome with Tom, but I think Tom started those."

"Undoubtedly."

"He's real fond of you. Though he'd never admit it."

"Don't tell him, but I'm fond of him too."

Ethan smiles. "My lips are sealed." He plugs his guitar into the amp and pulls a pick from his jeans. His voice drops, that
this is a secret and it's serious
tone. "Mostly, I heard that you're an asshole who gets into fights."

"Mostly, that's true."

"Still?"

"Still an asshole, but I don't get into fights."

Ethan laughs. "Fair enough. I think Kit's fond of you. But then, he keeps his cards pretty close to the vest."

I stretch my fingers. Tap my toes. I need to rely on my people skills. Only I don't have people skills. I offer Ethan my best smile. "You know any Sinful Serenade songs?"

"A few."

I raise my brow.

"You guys write good shit. You especially. Not that your ego needs stroking. After all, you are
the
Drew Denton."

I smile. He's already on board.

Asking for help isn't the worst thing in the world.

That's a good thing. I'm gonna have to get better at it quickly.

I keep my voice steady. "How do you feel about filling in for me?"

His blue eyes go wide. "Full time?"

"Here and there. A handful of shows this year. More in the future. If you want."

Those eyes light up. "Fill in for Sinful Serenade? Fuck yes."

"You'll play two and a half hours straight some days."

"My hands have plenty of stamina." He rolls his shoulders back and tests his guitar with a few chords. "Teach me before I change my mind."

That, I can do.

––––––––

K
ara

Tom is the same bundle of energy he was this morning. I've got no clue how Willow deals with it every day. Sure, it's nice when you're in a good mood. But when your stomach is in knots from a mix of morning sickness and fear your fiancé is about to give up everything else in his life for you...

I stay ten paces behind as he leads the way through one of those casino passageways. The Luxor to the Mandalay Bay. I think. I lost track of which casino was which a long time ago.

It's been a busy day of decidedly un-depraved activities—The Atomic Testing Museum, The Neon Museum, and an amazingly relaxed tea shop with a large non-smoking section. I appreciate how much the Steeles are trying to keep me from feeling like a third wheel.

But I've had enough. I need my bed and I need Drew in it, his hands on my skin, his voice in my ears as he convinces me this is going to be okay.

Smoke wafts into my nostrils as we step onto the casino floor. The lights and sounds wake up the tension headache that has been dormant for ages. My shoulders and back tense. My neck is in agony.

"Tom, it's been fun, but I'm about ready to crash." I undo the tie holding up my hair in the hopes of easing the strain on my neck. It's about one percent better.

"Nope. Your baby daddy wants to make a gesture." Tom checks something on his phone. "And I've got to nail the timing."

"Sweetie, why is it
you
have to nail the timing?" Willow asks.

"Cause I'm the rhythm section," he says. "Well, me and Pete, but he's busy... sure we can all guess what he's doing." He pulls her into a quick hug-kiss combo then he turns to me. "You got another half-hour in you?"

I can do another half-hour if it ends with Drew explaining how he's going to make this work.

"Good." Tom's smile lights up his soft green eyes. He turns back to Willow and whispers in her ear.

"Oh." She turns to me with a smile and offers me a thumbs-up.

Okay, everyone knows what's happening except me.

Awesome.

Tom motions for me to follow as he steps into the closed door of the hotel theater.

Drew's in a theater.

My stomach settles. Drew won me over by stepping on stage and singing for me many months ago.

The stage is what he knows, where he belongs.

This might work out.

I follow Tom and Willow inside. The venue looks like it seats about a thousand, but it's hard to say with all the lights off.

There are two figures on the stage, but they're barely silhouettes.

"Any day now," Tom taunts.

The stage lights turn on. That's Drew, standing in front of a microphone in jeans and a tight t-shirt. He looks as yummy as always.

His expression is nervous.

He must be scared for me to see that all the way back here in the cheap seats.

A guitar kicks in. But that doesn't make sense. Drew isn't holding a guitar, and the sound is live, not pre-recorded.

My brain has no time to contemplate it. Drew wraps his hands around the mic, brings it to his mouth, and he sings.

It's all over.

I'm ga-ga out of my head,

One of those idiots

I always made fun of.

Drew is singing for me.

The same song he used to win me over that night.

I push past Tom and Willow to get closer to the stage. My body moves of its own accord, no thinking necessary.

Drew is singing for me.

Singing about being in love for me.

My heart melts as his voice flows into my ears. Drew may not be the best singer in the world, but I can feel every word in my soul. I can feel every bit of emotion in his voice.

The song fades into the outro. Right away, another starts. Only this isn't a Sinful Serenade song. It's one of his songs.

He never shares those. With anyone. He won't even sing the lyrics in front of me.

The other stage light goes on. There's a man with dark hair and bright eyes playing the guitar part. I barely recognize Ethan, the Dangerous Noise guitarist.

He's playing Drew's part. In Drew's song.

I'm not sure what it means. It's hard to concentrate on anything but how much I want to dive into Drew's voice and stay there forever.

This time, he stops after the song fades into the outro. He sets the mic back in its stand and turns to me.

"We learned about a dozen of these, but I'm guessing you got the idea." He jumps off the stage so he's standing in the aisle, ten feet away from me.