The Purest Hook (Second Circle Tattoos #3)(93)

“The good news is that I opened the studio today to train Truly, our new body-mod expert, how do to it.”

“That can’t be her real name,” Dred said with a laugh.

She slapped his chest. “Says the guy named Theodred. If she says her name is Truly, who am I to question it? Anyway, it means fewer early mornings for me from now on.”

“Mmm . . . more time in bed sounds perfect,” Dred said, kissing the side of neck.

Pixie tilted her head to the side to give him better access. “Petal was a dream for Elisa. She had a great day—ate well, slept well, pooped well as always. I got a bunch of sewing done. And I kept getting steamy texts from this guy I know.”

“Steamy texts, huh? Any you found interesting?” He raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“At least two of them I’d like to try,” she laughed. “How was your day?”

Dred smiled. “Less fun. Lawyers, lawyers, and more lawyers. Rewriting our contracts, officially severing Sam. I’d much rather talk about which of the two messages you’d like to try.”

As the story had unfolded, it became apparent that Sam had become obsessed with making Dred and Preload world famous rock stars. It was part ego, of managing the largest act, and part greed. To do that, he tried to prove he was invaluable to them by creating messes, blaming others, then looking like the hero for resolving them. It was a complicated situation. Once he’d become aware of the band’s plans to fire him, his only goal was to ruin them. Even the exposé he’d been threatening to sell was designed to hurt them. Fortunately, somewhere over the years, Dred’s personal lawyer had insisted a confidentiality clause was added to their contract with Sam. It offered them some protection, but didn’t mean Sam wouldn’t breach it. Neither Sam nor Arnie could touch them now. Both were being held, denied bail due to the flight risk.

“How was the recording today?”

“It was really productive. Even got to rearrange a couple of the songs for the tour. But I finished one I’ve been working on for a while. I started it when I first met you. Could probably tell you the exact moment I came up with every line. Can I play it for you?”

“Won’t it wake Petal?”

“No. It’s not really for the band. It’s for you. And us. And my story to get here. And the question I am going to ask myself every single day of our lives together.”

He stood and pulled the guitar from its case, but it wasn’t one of his flash electric ones. This was a traditional acoustic guitar that was clearly old, and a little beaten-up in places. He sat on the coffee table facing her, resting the guitar on his knee. The soft blues, almost gospel-like quality to the tune shocked her. She’d expected loud and angry. A metal take on the love song. But this . . . it was spiritual, almost heavenly.

I can’t live without you

I can’t breathe without you

I can’t even sing this song without you

Lord what am I gonna do

This is crazy

So, so crazy

This is painful

So, so painful



His voice was so soulful, so melodic. No matter how much she loved him, she didn’t listen to Preload unless one of the guys played it at the studio. But this, she could listen to all day. As Dred continued to sing through a chorus that reflected on exactly how much he loved her, she was struck by the fact that this was the first time he’d played especially for her. Yes, he sang around the house, but this was a song about them, a song he was singing to her. And in that moment, she knew she was truly his.

When the heart wants what it wants

Does the heart get what it needs

When you reach rock bottom

I’ll be the savior that you need

I think I’m in love

I think I’m in love with you

I think I’m in love

I think I’m in love with you



Without saying a word, he placed his guitar on the floor and pulled her across his lap. She placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him soundly.

“I know we’ve got hurdles ahead of us. Being separated while I tour, and all that. And I know we need paperwork for me to be here, or you to be in Canada permanently. But I love you, Pix. I need to know this is leading to forever.”

“I don’t have words or a song,” she said quietly, taking his hand and placing it on her chest. “But my heart understands yours in ways I don’t think I’ll ever quite comprehend.”

Dred led out a deep breath. “I think that’s the beauty of it, Snowflake. We’re not meant to. All we can do is embrace it. And nurture it. And build something together. We had shitty role models to show us what that looks like.”

“So we build our own version of it. It’ll be perfect,” she said.

Slipping his fingers under her T-shirt, he brushed his lips against hers. “Just like you.”





Acknowledgments


As always, writing the acknowledgments reminds me how lucky I am to have people so willing to help me write the stories that I do.

Huge thanks as always to my lovely editor, Lizzie Poteet, at St. Martin’s Press. I hope readers agree with your feelings about Pixie and Dred’s story. Thank you for continuing to challenge me to write the very best book I possibly can, and for your continued faith that when I do that, readers will want to read it. Oh, and remember that time we were double RITA finalists.