Rock Chick Reckoning (Rock Chick #6)(155)

I stopped singing and the guests cheered, Al y and Daisy let out catcal s and Tex gave a war whoop.

Mace just shook his head.

Then he smiled.

I smiled back.

Indy and Lee weren’t cheering, they were making out, again.

It was the best present I’d ever given in my life.

The band didn’t hesitate. Hugo moved to the bongos and started the rhythm, Floyd started to play piano and I took the microphone in my hand.

“Enough of that,” I said to the guests, looked back at the band and shouted, “Let’s rol .”

And that’s when we played Joe Cocker’s “Feelin’

Alright”.

Everyone started dancing, even Indy and Lee began to sway with the music. When it was time for the chorus, the entire crowd put their hands into the air sang it with us.

Floyd was laying it down when my eyes found Mace’s.

He was standing with Luke and Vance but he was smiling at me in a way that was heart wrenchingly familiar.

It was the same, sweet, unguarded smile he wore in the photo of him and Caitlin I saw in the paper.

I was “onstage” so, unfortunately, al I could do was smile back.

But in my head, I gave one of the dying demons a last, vicious, sucker kick to the gut.

Then I focused on rock ‘n’ rol .

We went from Cocker to Three Dog Night and played

“Shambala” then on to The Doobie’s “Jesus Is Just Alright”.

After that, I let Buzz take one and he sang America’s “Sister Golden Hair”. Then we turned it up a couple notches, going straight into Boston’s “Peace of Mind”. Final y, I strapped on my mouth organ and we finished with one of our signature songs, the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s, stomping, twanging, kickass “Ain’t No Easy Way”.

With our “thank you’s” said into the mics, we left the instruments but the guests shouted and hooted until we were forced to go back and do an encore of “Ghostriders in the Sky”.

For your information, the vibe of the set list was the happiest we’d ever played.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Swen and Ulrika Are Gonna Be Pissed

Stella

Mace and I were in an Explorer on the way to my apartment after the reception and I was riding a kil er happy buzz.

I was with my man, I loved him, he loved me, he was holding my hand against his thigh, my band was going to head to the studio for recording time on an impending recording contract, two people I cared about just had a kickass wedding and no one had been shot at or kidnapped al day.

“Happy buzz,” I muttered to the window, grinning at it like a lunatic.

“What?” Mace asked as he turned onto my street.

I looked to him. “Happy buzz.”

He glanced at me briefly, his beautiful jade eyes smiling, then back at the road.

I tested the boundaries of my seatbelt to lean into him, pul ing my fingers from his hold only to curl them around his thigh; I kissed his strong, square jaw as I heard him engage the turn signal before pul ing into my drive.

“Never been happier, babe,” I whispered, my lips moving against his jaw.

Mace didn’t reply but I felt his jaw get hard under my lips.

This surprised me so I pul ed back a bit, looked at his hard profile then fol owed the direction of angry gaze and saw a limousine at the end of the drive.

Shitsof*ckit.

As we pul ed up, the backdoor opened and Preston Mason folded out of the backseat.

Just as I suspected.

Shitsof*ckit!

“Great,” I muttered. “If anyone could kil this happy buzz, The Supreme Asshole of Al Time could do it.” Mace ignored my comment and ordered, “Stay in the truck,” as he came to a halt then put the SUV in neutral and set the brake without turning off the ignition.

“Mace –” I started, thinking good advice would be to suggest he ignore his father, I ignore his father, we walk in, forget he existed, resume the happy buzz and get on with our night which would consist of making our happy buzz way happier.

He turned to me and gave me a look.

I shut up.

He threw open his door and angled out of the SUV.

I sat and watched him approach his father. Then I sat and watched him have words with his father. Then I sat and glared at his father as his condescending gaze came to me. Then I sat and watched as Mace’s eyes did a sweep of the area while his father jabbered, probably being a serious dick, before Mace’s hand came up abruptly, palm out.

Preston clamped his mouth shut and Mace turned and strode angrily to the truck.

He yanked open the door and reached into the ignition but his eyes were on me.

“Inside, babe,” he ordered, I nodded then he went on.

“Wait for me to get to your door.”

I undid my seatbelt and Mace switched off the ignition, pul ed out the keys and rounded the hood, his head turned to his father, his deep voice sounding though I couldn’t make out what he said. Then Mace made it around, pul ed open my door and put his hand to my arm to help me out.

Then he marched me to the side door where Preston was waiting.

Fabulous. Now we were going to have unwelcome company in my pad.

I tried to shoot daggers out of my eyes at Preston Mason as Mace and I approached but unfortunately this didn’t work though that didn’t mean I quit.