Marrying Ember(16)

“Your dad said—”

Ember sat forward and put her hand up, waving it around. “I’m not ready for what he said, okay? I just need to talk about how I’m feeling. My gut reactions.” She turned and looked at me with a determination I was glad to see.

I nodded, smiling that she and I appeared to be on even ground again. “Talk away, love. I’ll listen to every word you say.”

Ember turned and smiled. “I like that you call me love. Do that always.”

“Always,” I whispered.

She leaned forward, pressing my back against the grass as she kissed the hell out of me. I moaned louder than I’d intended to, given we weren’t exactly anywhere private, but it felt so good to be home on her lips again. I hadn’t kissed her since we woke up, and that was far too damn long to have my mouth away from hers.

She pulled away with a smug grin on her face. “Get your act together, rockstar. We have another set. First act is me, you, and Regan.”

I groaned, playfully biting her shoulder as I sat up. “You expect me to be alone on stage with you with that kiss in my head?”

“Think of it as motivation. For tonight.”

“Tonight?” I stood and held out my hand, helping her to her feet.

“We’re getting a hotel room. You think I’m going to sleep in an RV with either my parents or Willow?”

I placed my hands on her backside, pulling her close to my body. “Not if we’re going to do what I plan to do with you.” I whispered into her ear, grinning as I felt goosebumps against my lips.

“Bo Cavanaugh,” she whispered back, “are you teasing me?”

I bit my lip, tilting my head to the side. “No. Promising.”

“Guys!” A slightly frantic sounding Regan hollered out the back door. “Let’s goooo!”

“Tonight,” I promised, grinning at her before acknowledging Regan.

“Tonight.”

Regan introduced us, and we took our stools, Ember and I slinging our guitars over our shoulders as we smiled to one another. Whistles and claps came from the crowd.

“Kiss her!” someone shouted from the front row.

Without hesitation, I flicked on my mic and answered, “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Reaching out my hand, I slipped it around the back of Ember’s neck and pulled her to me, the crowd growing louder in their hoots and hollers.

Ember bit her lip and arched her eyebrow as she pulled away. “Ready?”

I answered with the strum of my guitar, and she fell into step a measure later. Performing looked good on her. Her cheeks glowed, her eyes brightened, and even her hair seemed to bounce more as she shook her head with the beat. She was surrendering herself to the music, and it was even a sexier sight than when she was under me in our bed.

Just as I thought that was an exaggeration—because when she was naked I could barely separate reason from fantasy—she opened her mouth and reminded me of the exact moment I fell in love with her. When I first heard her voice.



“Lost … and found

We’re taking the long way,

Oh, the long way around …”



She was singing a song that she, Regan and I had reworked from The Six’s first album. As with most of their early work, there was a lot of male/female back and forth. I had to keep count as I played, because getting lost in her voice was as easy as falling in love with her had been and I constantly risked missing my entrance. I hoped that would never go away.

Lifting my eyes from her mouth up to Regan, who helped count me in, I saw a tender smile on his face. I knew how much he missed having Georgia around, especially since they were fairly early in their relationship, but his undying support for my relationship with Ember was reassuring. He was the best friend I’d had in many years.

On his nod, I entered the song, silently grateful he was diligent in counting. The feeling I had when my voice joined Ember’s surged through my body like electricity, causing me to smile as we sang. As our melodies joined in holy matrimony I longed for our souls to.

Watching her head lower as she worked over a difficult combination on her guitar, and nailing it, I was once again firm in my resolve that she would be my wife. And I would spend the rest of my life working my ass off to be the husband she deserved.

***

“I hope Regan doesn’t hate us for bailing on him.” I discarded my backpack on the floor next to our bed in the small inn a few miles from the concert site.

Ember slid her sandals under the desk and slowly lifted her shirt. “Are we really going to talk about Regan? He’s a big boy. He’ll be fine.”

“Regan who?” I ran my tongue across my bottom lip as I walked toward Ember, stopping her hands as they reached the waistband of her skirt.

“Are you stopping me from being without clothes? That seems … counterproductive.”

She followed my eyes and let out a small groan as I knelt down in front of her, and she ran her slender fingers through my hair. Once I was on my knees, I guided the navy floor-length skirt over her hips, slowly brushing my fingers along the curve of her outer thigh and over the slight muscle in her calf.

“How is your skin always this soft?” I whispered as I brought my lips to her knee, trailing kisses down to her ankle where I let the skirt crumple to the floor.