He laughed genuinely. Man, she’d forgotten how much she loved that sound. It relaxed her. Reminded her how easy it was to be with him.
“Ah, Lacy, I’ve taught you well.” Eli’s smile turned somber. “And you’ve taught me well too.”
Well, that was intriguing. “Really? What have I taught you?” She was suddenly nervous that he wasn’t there to claim her after all. Partly because he hadn’t yet touched her—and she was aching to be touched—and partly because a “lessons I’ve learned” speech seemed a little more like the kind of thing you said with good-bye.
She bit her lip anxiously while she waited for his response.
“Uh, lots of things. But mostly, you taught me how to fight.” His forehead wrinkled and he rubbed at his jaw. “I’m not sure what Lou told you about the band breaking up or what happened with the tour—”
She broke in. “He didn’t tell me anything. I worried … was it because of me?” Her voice squeaked with the question and she hated herself a little bit for it.
“No!” That’s something at least. Except then Eli said, “I mean, yes, but not directly.” He shook his head, as if trying to erase what he’d just said. “Actually, first it was Jax. He had an … accident.”
Lacy’s stomach dropped. “Oh, no! What happened? Is he okay?”
“Yeah. He, uh, you know, I’ll let him tell you what happened the next time you see him. Anyway, he had to have surgery and has to take it easy for awhile, but I think he’s going to be just fine.”
“And that’s why the band broke up.” Of all the reasons she’d imagined why the tour had ended, she’d never thought it was because someone had been hurt. She felt awful for having been so egotistical to think she was the cause of it.
“No. The band broke up at my suggestion. That’s where you come in.” He took a step toward her. “You, Lacy, made me realize that I needed to fight for the things I love and one of those things was my music. Another one of those things was Jax. I think he needs some time to get some focus. And I need some time without him murdering my songs. Hence the announcement that I’m now a solo artist.”
Her throat felt tight. So that’s what his song was about, what he’d chosen to fight for—Jax and his music. And here she thought he’d chosen to fight for her. She was shattered with disappointment, but she forced herself to keep smiling. “That’s great. I’m really happy for you. You’ll be a much better artist on your own.” She felt her eyes starting to pool with tears. “Uh, if you’ll excuse me, I see someone—”
She started past him but Eli grabbed her wrist. “Wait, Lacy. Don’t go.”
A jolt ran through her, not just from the spark at his long missed touch, but because he wasn’t letting her walk away. Was he trying to tell her what she hoped he was trying to tell her?
She was afraid to get her hopes up. “Why do you want me to stay?” She didn’t turn to him, just let the question fall over her shoulder.
“Because I’m not done telling you what else I have to fight for.” Still holding her hand, he walked closer to her until his front was nearly pressed along her back and his mouth was near her ear.
Lacy could barely breathe, her voice a whisper when she asked, “What’s that?”
“You.”
He turned her so she was facing him, and though her eyes were downcast, he tilted her chin up until she gave in and met his gaze. “I love you, Lacy.”
Her pulse sped up.
“I meant it that day when I said it, I meant it months before when I only knew you online, and I mean it even more today than ever. I wanted to follow you that day, wanted to come after you so many times in the weeks since, but I knew that I couldn’t until I was free of everything that would get in my way of fighting for you the way you deserve to be fought for. So I made sure that Jax was settled and band stuff was tied up, and I swear I was headed to find you—Lou told me where you lived—when your sister called and invited me to do the wedding.” He cocked his head. “A Christmas Eve wedding, huh? You planned our first date to be a wedding? Seems pretty serious, if you ask me.”
She gave a guilty smile, but smiling made her feel more vulnerable so she quickly covered by saying, “It was convenient. That’s all.”
But Eli knew her. “Uh-huh,” he said, skeptically. “Anyway. When Andy asked me to play, I thought it was perfect. It gave me a chance to keep my promise to meet you tonight. I couldn’t stand the thought of breaking that after I’d already broken your trust in so many other ways.”
“Not so many other ways.” Not too many that they couldn’t work through it. She hoped.
“Maybe not so many. But enough. So I wrote you that song—well, I wrote you about twenty songs, but that’s the one that said what I needed to say most.”
Her heart flipped. But she played it cool. “Twenty songs? I think I need an encore.”
“Later. I promise.” He smiled in a way that had her guessing that he meant his next performance to be sans clothing.
Or maybe she was just hoping that.
“Anyway,” he said, “despite the promise that I’d meet you tonight, it took every ounce of strength to wait until today to see you. But I figured you’d be busy with the wedding preparations otherwise.”
“You mean that Andy asked you not to come until today because she was worried about being busy with preparations.” Lacy put a finger to Eli’s lips before he could protest. “Don’t defend her—I know her well.” If it weren’t Andy’s wedding day, Lacy might have decided to be irked at her sister for that. Or maybe she wouldn’t since she was too happy about Andy’s matchmaking to think about much else.
Except now all Lacy could think about was how nice Eli’s lips felt beneath the skin of her finger. How much she wanted to kiss them and lick them and suck them.
Eli grabbed her hand and kissed her finger before moving it from his mouth. “Yes, Andy asked me to wait until today.” His eyes crinkled with worry lines. “Was that okay? Did I mess up on fighting for you by not ignoring her? It did seem appropriate since today was the day we were supposed to meet originally. Besides, I didn’t want to disrupt your recording time. I know how you musicians get when you’re cutting an album.”
She chuckled. “It is appropriate. And no, you didn’t mess up. You did just fine, and I appreciate that you gave me time to focus while recording. You’re right about how we get. How I’m sure you get too. I finished fourteen brand-new shiny songs. Only regret is that I didn’t have a professional mandolin on any of the tracks.”
“If you want to add it later, I know a guy who’s recently gone solo.” He winked.
“I do too it seems.” Her smile faded as she took a deep breath and gathered courage for what she really needed to say. “About us … I didn’t fight for you either, Eli. I didn’t realize it until today, but I let you walk away too. More than once. After that night, I knew I wanted you. I didn’t even care if Jax was Folx—I wanted you. But then I read your note…” She couldn’t use his brush-off as an excuse, though, either. “I could have fought then, but I didn’t. I let you go.”
Eli shrugged. “Then we’ve both made mistakes.”
“Are they mistakes that we can get beyond?” Her lip quivered and her body itched to press against him.
“I’m here. So what do you think?”
“I think we can too.” He pulled her into him, finally, and she melted into his chest. “Eli, I love you. Thank you for being the man noble enough to fight for me.”
“There’s no one else in this world I’d rather be.” He put his hand beneath her chin and tipped her face up to his. She leaned in, and touched her lips gently to his. The sparks were still there when they met, but now there was something more. A sense of completion. He pressed more firmly against her, and her lips parted. But just barely. Church tongue. Her hands came up and held his face, the familiar scruff, then moved up and through his hair.
She wanted to make it last forever, this kiss, but eventually Eli pulled away to ask, “So now what?”
/> That was certainly a loaded question. Because she really wanted to say “now we find an empty closet and get it on,” but Andy had just caught her eye as she twirled around the dance floor, so sneaking off wasn’t an option.
With sex off the table—for the time being, anyway—there was only one other thing that made any sense. “Now we dance!”
Lacy tugged Eli behind her to join the crowd in the “Macarena.” For the next twenty minutes, they danced and laughed and grooved to the music. Lacy was happy to find that, like her, Eli wasn’t the best with his moves, but he didn’t let that inhibit him.
She was tired and sweaty by the time the DJ turned on something slow, and Lacy was more than ready to be pulled into Eli’s arms.
They swayed together for a whole verse without speaking, simply enjoying the pleasure of being in each other’s arms without any guilt or regret to mar it. After a bit, Eli asked, “Did your sister walk down the aisle to the theme from Downton Abbey?”
“Wow. You know Downton Abbey? Is there something you need to tell me?” She’d love the man, but she wouldn’t be forced to watch the PBS turn-of-the-century British drama.
“I know the theme song. Not the show. But if you want me to watch an episode—”
“No,” she cut him off sharply. “That’s okay. We can let the Donovans be the fans of that one.” She paused, letting her sister’s new family name settle in her ears. The Donovans. “They’re really good for each other. Perfect, actually. You should see their groom’s cake—it’s in the shape of a pinball machine.”
Eli pulled her closer so they were now dancing cheek to cheek. “Please tell me we aren’t that strange of a couple.”
“We’re not. But honestly, we might be faking that.”
He chuckled. “God, Lacy, I love you.” He kissed her ear softly, sending all her hormones into overdrive. She racked her brain trying to remember—was the office they’d dressed in still unlocked? Maybe they could sneak in there for a quickie. Surely the dinosaur heads and Mayan remains wouldn’t mind a little frolicking in their vicinity.
Eli pressed closer, and she wondered if he was thinking what she was thinking. “Would it be too soon to say this whole event has me thinking about the future?”
So maybe not thinking what she was thinking. Unless “the future” meant the next five minutes and involved a loss of clothing. She decided to ask, though, in case they were totally on separate tracks. “It depends. What exactly are you thinking?”
“A proposal, of sorts.”
Lacy tensed in Eli’s arms. Jesus, they really weren’t thinking the same thing at all. And that was bad. Not bad that their minds had been in different places, but bad that he’s said that scary P word. Because she loved him—she really did—but it was way too soon to be talking marriage. She’d lived with Lance for over two years before she even let him start to talk about wedding bells. Yes, Eli wasn’t Lance. She knew that. And she could see herself with Eli—like that—but way off. In the future. After more albums and more tours and more time getting to know each other.
“Relax,” Eli said at her ear. “Not that kind of proposal.”
Thank goodness. She let out the breath she’d been holding, relieved.
Then her chest sank. Didn’t Eli think of her as the type of girl he’d want to marry? Sure, it was too soon, but she still wanted to know that it was a possibility one day.
And, yes, she recognized that she was being a very complicated girl with her internal reactions, but that wasn’t the point.
Reading her mind as he often did, Eli pulled away to meet her eyes and said, “Of course I want to marry you, too. One day. Not too far away, but not quite yet.”
Her skin tingled everywhere as goose bumps shot up on her arms. “One day, though.”
“One day.” He smiled. “But for now I have a different proposal for you. See, I’m a solo artist now. And while I don’t mind not having a band, I’d much rather do this whole music thing with someone by my side. Someone even more talented than me who writes the most gorgeous songs and creates the most beautiful melodies.”
“Eli. Are you asking me to make music with you?”
“Yes, Songbird, I am.” He lowered his eyes, seeming suddenly embarrassed. “You can take your time and think about it if you need to.”
“I don’t need to. The answer’s yes. Definitely yes.”
Lacy laughed as Eli spun her around quickly. Her glance shifted to her sister who was dancing with her new husband, then back to the man gazing at her with love in his eyes. She had so many major milestones to look forward to. A future filled with good times. Albums to record, songs to write, babies to make. A husband to love.
And with a lifetime of days left to live, it was probably premature to label any particular one as such, but she felt pretty confident when she said that this one was The. Best. Day. Ever.
Acknowledgments
Laurelin Paige:
To Kayti McGee—This road is so much easier to walk when I’m not going it alone. Don’t ever leave me. I can’t adult without you.
To our editor, Eileen Rothschild—You were so patient with us through this book. Thank you so much for believing in it when it was hard for us to see the finished product.
To the team at St. Martin’s Press—I never want to work elsewhere. ’Nuff said.
To Bob Diforio for hooking us up with SMP and Rebecca Friedman for being AMAZING. You are my patronus. I love you.
To Shanyn for bossing me around, Melissa G. for keeping me online, Candi Kane for assisting and fanning (you’re my favorite!), Carly H. for hours of data entry, and KP for InkSlinging me. What a crazy team!
To Bethany—This was the book that never ended and you were there through it all. You deserve a vacation. Cancun?
To Lauren Blakely for teaching me how to market these books. You’re a genius. Actually, you’re better than that—you’re Lauren Fucking Blakely.
To Jen Probst for saying such nice things about our book. I’m delighted to have you on our cover.
To my husband, Tom—I’m sorry I didn’t read this one to you as we wrote. I’ll owe you. Thanks for enduring me and the other woman. I’m struck with love for you daily.
To my children—Better than song babies are my real babies. I hope you learn to make your own music and sing it loud.
To Mom—You inspire me. Thank you for encouraging me to find my own words.
To my Maker—When I forget to look up, you remind me. Thank you for everything.
Kayti McGee:
As always, a million thank-you’s couldn’t be enough for Laurelin. You’re the best work-wife ever. Bethany and Mel, I couldn’t do anything without you guys. Cancun forever. The Order, of course, for endless encouragement, entertainment, and Tom Hiddleston gifs.
Bob, for brokering this shebang. My agent, Natalie, who is awesome. Our editor, Eileen Rothschild, who made this book a hundred times better—we are so lucky to have you. The team at St. Martin’s—Erin, Michelle, Heather, Jenn—you guys work so hard and I am so grateful. *dances out backwards*
M. Pierce, you’re the Jaime to my Cersei, and I love you more than Dornish red. Jen, Ang, Tarah, Sheri, and Psuka, Whitney, Kelly, Bethany S., Sara, Shea, Leah, my family … your encouragement means the world to me. Our readers and bloggers make all of this possible and I puffy heart every single one of you. And of course, Frank Turner provided the soundtrack and inspiration—thank you for your unwitting role. The next round’s on me.
www.stmartins.com
Also by Laurelin McGee
MISS MATCH
MISTAKEN (novella)
Sparkling praise for Laurelin McGee’s
Miss Match
“A fun, fresh, and sassy hit … The indomitable humor is delightfully quirky, thanks to a refreshingly unique heroine whose matchmaking high jinks keep the plot quick, light, and unpredictable … There is little doubt that this entertaining adventure will earn McGee a wealth of new and devoted followers.”
—RT Book
Reviews
“McGee charms readers … endearing … touching.”
—Publishers Weekly
“What a fun book! If you are looking for something fun and light, this is the perfect story for you!… It’s a great summer read to enjoy by the pool with a tall, cold drink.”
—Cocktails and Books
“Fun and lighthearted … a really pleasant surprise … with a lot of humorous banter.”
—Fifty Shades of Books
“Smart, witty, funny, downright sexy.”
—BJ’s Book Blog
“Fresh, contemporary, and so much fun!”
—Lori Foster, New York Times bestselling author
“Sexy, witty, and utterly romantic! Miss Match marries some of my most favorite ingredients—scorching kisses, hot office encounters, and a deliciously matched hero and heroine.”
—Lauren Blakely, New York Times bestselling author
About the Authors
Laurelin McGee is the pseudonym of Laurelin Paige and Kayti McGee.
Laurelin Paige is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Fixed Trilogy. She’s a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn’t seem to complain, however. When she isn’t reading or writing sexy stories, she’s probably singing, watching Game of Thrones and The Walking Dead, or dreaming of Adam Levine. Visit her at: laurelinpaige.com.
Kayti McGee is a Kansas City native who now calls Colorado home. When she isn’t writing, she’s making up recipes to go with her favorite books. Her other favorite things include travel, geocaching, and all things Whovian.
Visit their website at: www.laurelinmcgee.com. Or sign up for email updates here.
Thank you for buying this
St. Martin’s Press ebook.
To receive special offers, bonus content,
Love Struck Page 29
