by S. L. Scott
Tulsa takes his moment in the limelight. In true Tulsa fashion, he tells everyone to be ready for the next record, and that it’s going to blow everybody away, which earns him a goodhearted laugh. Ridge steps up to thank the fans and everyone who supported the album and last summer’s tour.
I don’t need the microphone for the person I want to thank. Her seat is right next to mine this time. She’s not shoved in the back but celebrating our victory with tears in her eyes and her hands clasped in front of her mouth. Before her tears have a chance to fall, I jump down and run back to the second row where our seats reside. There’s fifteen seats between me and the woman I live to love and not enough space to get to her fast enough.
Tommy looks up at me from the aisle seat and asks, “What are you doing, Crow?”
“What I should have done years ago.” I step up on the armrest of his seat and start my trek back to Stella. “Watch out. Coming through.”
I race the tears, but they fall too fast for me to catch as she watches me come back to her. Landing on my feet in the space in front of my empty seat, I hold my hand out. “Rivers?”
When she stands, I kneel before her on one knee, causing her tears to really start flowing. As much as I want to wipe them away and kiss every streak down her face, I stay.
The cheer of the crowd disappears when I kiss her hand. Looking up into the calm green of her eyes, I say, “I’ve loved you since before I knew you. You became my friend and then the best of those. You became my girl, and then I had the honor of watching you turn into a woman. I’ve experienced the worst of life, but in your arms, you made me see I had everything I’d ever need. You loved me when I was a scrawny kid. You loved me through the bad times and provided the solace I craved. You own my heart, captivate my soul, and I will never love another like the love I have for you. As a man willing to bow at your feet, to honor you every day for the rest of my life, I will forever be yours faithfully. Star of my night. Star of my life. Will you be my wife? Marry me, Stella Lilith.”
She wipes a tear from her cheek, and with the prettiest damn smile I’ve ever seen residing on her sweet lips, she touches my cheek. “I’ve waited my whole life for you, Rivers. There’s not a day I want to spend without you in it. You’re my best friend. My lover. And now you’ll be my husband. Being your wife will be an honor I’ll never take for granted.” Hearing the answer I want, I stand and pick her up in my arms. Hovering above me, she says, “Yes. Yes. I love you so much.”
The audience erupts in more cheers as I kiss the woman I loved since I was fifteen. I kiss her for the years we had together. I kiss her to make up for the years we spent apart. I kiss her. I kiss her. I kiss her, grateful for the years we have ahead.
And then I pull the ring from my pocket and slip it on her finger. Nikki and Hannah helped me pick it out. Hannah said two carats. Nikki said four. I went with three. The compromise made them happy, and by the look on Stella’s face, I did well.
Stella sits in the middle of the living room of the house we’re renting down the street from Jet sorting through a box. Meadow and Ridge arrived this morning after driving Stella’s stuff from Austin to LA.
They’re not currently speaking to each other. I’m not sure what the spat is about, but Stella and I both decide to let it be. They have issues, whether they’re serious or not, and one day, they’ll have to deal with them.
She pulls a book from the box and holds it up. “Look, Rivers.”
Glancing up from the strings, my fingers still on the guitar I’ve been playing. “Pride & Prejudice.”
“This is the book I was reading when you talked to me the first time under the oak tree.” She turns it over in her hand a few times and then runs her hand lovingly over the worn fabric cover.
It’s how she treats the things and the people she loves—lovingly. “I can buy you a first edition if you want.”
“I don’t,” she says, smiling as she admires her copy. Holding it to her chest, she meets my gaze. “This one has more value than any other ever could.”
I start to play a song I wrote for her that made it onto the new album, and she watches me sing from my soul just for her. Something I’ve noticed that’s changed since she moved out here is that she doesn’t read sad books anymore. Having experienced more than enough sadness for two lifetimes, every day she chooses happy.
An envelope left behind on the table catches my eyes. “What’s this?”
“Money I owe Meadow.”
“For what?”
“A silly bet we made once.”
Now I’m intrigued. “What was the bet?”
She clams up for a second and then tries to deflect. “Here’s the other book, Until I Met You.”
“Oh no, you don’t.” I’m on to her. “What was the bet?”
She huffs, exasperated and clearly not wanting to fess up. When her eyes peek up under her dark lashes, she says, “Meadow bet me five dollars that we would end up back together.”
For dramatics and a little guilt mixed in, my mouth falls open. “You bet against us?”
“It was a big mistake on my part, but in my defense, I never expected you to show back up looking as sexy as you did.” Waving her hand up and down, she giggles. “How did you expect me to react? You’re hot.”
“You knew what I looked like before I ever showed back up. You said you had stalked me online.”
“Stalked is a strong word. Accurate, but strong.”
I set the guitar down on the couch and go to her. “C’mon, I want to show you strong.”
“Are you going to let me watch you work out?” She jumps up excitedly, making me laugh.
“Yes, I want you to keep your eyes on me the whole time we get a good workout in.” Grabbing her, I flip her over my shoulder and slap her ass as I carry her to the bedroom.
I toss her onto the mattress, and she immediately starfishes. “Take me, I’m yours.”
“Not quite. But as soon as you say I do, you’re mine forever.”
“I’m already yours forever. The rest is just legalities.”
“So sexy when you talk teacher-ese to me. Will you wear the glasses?”
“Only if you’ll use the ruler.”
Sliding my hands into the front of my jeans, I try to ease the pain as the denim gets too tight. “Fuck yeah, we’re using the ruler.”
While she scrambles to the nightstand, I take my clothes off and grab the box out from under the bed. I watch as she gets naked and lies there waiting for me. Climbing onto the bed, I hide the box behind me until I can set it out of sight above her head. I hover over her positioned exactly where I want to be, and then push in just enough to tease before I stop again. When she opens her eyes, she says, “I’m ready.”
I set the box on her stomach. “Open this first.”
“What is it?” she asks, looking at the box as she holds it above her head. The velvet lid is lifted, and her eyes go wide. “Rivers. Oh my God. They’re beautiful.”
“They’re real pearls. You never have to wear fake ones again.”
Taking the string of pearls in her hands, her eyes return to mine, as she laughs lightly. “Is this part of the fantasy?”
“Yes, but not the teacher one.”
Her smile is so genuine that my heart begins to pound. “Will you put them on me?”
We’re in a compromising position, but I’ll never deny one of her requests. We angle up enough for me to balance on my knees and elbows. I undo the clasp and wrap the pearls around her neck, fastening it again. She runs her hands along the necklace and lies back. “How do they look?”
“I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight in my life. The pearls aren’t bad either.” I wink and then sink deeper. Her body is open like her heart for me.
Mine.
My world embracing me.
Leaning down, I kiss my fiancée, and then whisper, “You’re everything to me.” My lips touch hers again, but this time, I taste, running my tongue along her lower lip. “My whole life wrapped i
n a hot as sin present just for me.”
Sliding her hands under mine, I fold our fingers together and raise them above her head. “Take me. Take all of me.”
I do because when it comes to her, I’m a selfish bastard.
“Rivers?”
Stella calls from the living room, another box open in front of her as she continues to go through her stuff from the move despite my protesting. I could have lain in bed with her all night . . . or done more if she was up for another round. After washing up our dinner dishes, I lean on the counter in the kitchen. “What’s up?”
“What’s this?” she asks, holding up a brown answering machine.
“A relic.” I laugh. “Need more wine?”
“Need? No. Want? Yes. Please,” she says, giving me a smile. I walk over with the bottle and top her glass up. “Thanks. But for real, this isn’t mine. I never owned an answering machine.”
I take another look at the machine she sets on the coffee table and stiffen. “Where’d you get that?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. It was in this box. There are some of your things in here, too. A trophy . . . photos from elementary school . . .” The blood rushes in my ears as I stare at the machine. “You were so cute. Here’s your crown . . .”
“That’s a box from my mom’s house.”
“Oh.” She stops and looks at the contents. “That would make sense.” When she looks up at me, she laments. “I remember now. When I threw out your stuff after ‘the incident’ I couldn’t throw away this box that was left behind. I didn’t find it until I moved from that apartment.” Her fingers are still in air quotes when she asks, “What’s wrong?”
“After her death, we got rid of almost everything. We were stupid kids who didn’t know how to appreciate things. But that’s my mom’s answering machine.”
Her voice.
I bend down and pick it up. Lifting the cover, the tape is still intact. I walk to the counter in the kitchen and plug it into the socket. The lights come on and a loud beep sounds before the tape starts spinning and then stops abruptly. The number one flashes on the screen and keeps flashing.
Stella’s hand warms me as she stands beside me, rubbing my back. I take a deep breath and then exhale before reaching forward and pushing play. “I know you don’t want a cake or this hoopla to celebrate your big day.” My mom.
I push stop and drop my head to the cool marble, closing my eyes and remembering how beautiful my mom looked that day. After a long shift, she gave me nothing but big smiles and happiness, willing to do anything to make me smile in return. Did I?
“Are you okay, babe?”
I’m not sure if she can see me, but I nod. “I smiled. When she was walking out the door. I remember. I smiled for her.”
She asks, “When was this left?”
“When she was driving home from work. I never heard it. I walked in from being with you that day, and she got home shortly after I did. Tulsa was in his room, and Jet was coming over for dinner. She always left messages for me because I was the only one who would check the machine, but I didn’t that day.”
Stella stands quietly still rubbing my back. Raising my head, I push play again, bracing my palms to the hard surface, and listening to my mom from her last day. “But you deserve the hoopla, my handsome man, because I won’t get to spoil you when you’re away at college. I’m so proud of you. So proud to be your mom. Anyway, I’m on my way home from work now, so I’ll see you in about twenty minutes. Sorry I’ve been working a lot more lately and not gotten as much time with you. Sunrise coffee date with your mom tomorrow? See you soon. Love you forever.” A tear hits the top of my hand when I close my eyes again.
The message ends, and Stella turns me, wrapping her arms around me. I hold her against me, finally free of the burden I’ve carried with me. I got more than a sign. I got the words I prayed for, begged to hear, the words I needed to be freed from the pain that tried to bury me.
She loved me.
She was proud.
She was also right about Stella. I say, “She told me that one day I should marry you.”
“She was a smart woman.” The light, happy tone of her voice makes me grin.
I chuckle while inhaling her sweet orange scent and remembering that day Stella shared her lunch with me under the oak tree. Miracles happen in mysterious ways, but it’s no mystery that the star of my life is the one who helped me see that I have everything I’ll ever need right here in my arms.
Her hand slips into mine, and she rests her other on my shoulder as mine finds her hip. Although no music is playing, we start dancing in the kitchen together, and ask, “What do you think about having a couple of kids?”
“I think we should plan the wedding first.”
I cock an eyebrow. “I thought the wedding was just legalities?”
“Being married to you will always be more than a piece of paper.”
“So that’s a yes to starting a family?”
“Wait, what?”
I spin her and then take her hand, pulling her back into the hallway that leads to the bedroom. “Come on, it will be fun.”
“You are so much like your brothers.”
“Let’s not talk about my brothers when I want to talk about being inside you.” Her head goes back when she laughs, her silky brown hair dipping almost to her fine ass. “Or better yet, let’s not talk at all. I have plans that include my mouth on your body.” I reach around and hold her by the head and the ass, bringing her to me. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“There was no luck involved. You owned my heart the moment you said, ‘Hi, I play guitar.’”
I kiss her before I pull back to look in her green seas that bring me peace. “And together we created our own destiny.”
Turn the page for a sneak peek of Jet Crow in Spark.
The Crow Brothers
If you loved spending time with Rivers Crow, make sure to meet his brothers and bandmate in their own novels.
Jet - Now Available: CLICK HERE
Tulsa - Now Available: CLICK HERE
Rivers - Now Available: CLICK HERE
Dave “Ridge” Carson in Ridge: Coming in September. CLICK HERE
Meet the all the members of The Resistance in their series, Hard to Resist, which kicks off with Johnny Outlaw’s story - The Resistance.
Turn the page for a sneak peek of Jet Crow in Spark.
Jet Crow - Spark
Prologue
Subtle scents of cinnamon mix with the taste of whiskey on her skin. I lick her from collarbone to the back of her ear, her moans enticing me to take more than a gentle share of what I want.
I’m well past hooking up with groupies, but something drew me to the beautiful brunette. Under the bright spotlight of that stage, my eyes found hers as I sang about finding the missing piece of me. Maybe it was the way she pretended not to care—catching my eyes and then turning away as if she was too shy to come speak to me, but too good to be bothered. It didn’t matter. I was already caught up in her as much as she was caught up in me.
The set ended, and I made my way over to the mystery woman, the one who hid in the dark of the bar just as two shots were served. I took the shot of Fireball and then took her home shortly after.
Fuck. She feels good.
Hard little body, but soft in all the right places. Tits that fill my large hands and legs that spread enough for me to squeeze between her thighs. I bet she wouldn’t reach my shoulders in heels. Speaking of, “Keep them on.”
I like the feel of the leather against my lower back, the hard heel scraping across my skin when she tries to power play me by tightening around my waist and pulling me closer. I didn’t ask her to my bedroom. I didn’t have a chance. What started out as laughing while we shared a two a.m. snack of Cheetos, hummus, and whiskey turned into me eating her as a snack on top of my kitchen counter. I don’t ever do that with a one-nighter, but damn if she didn’t make me want to break more rules with her.
She kisses me like
a woman in need of water, taking as much as she wants while pressing her heels into my ass. The heat between us emanates until I’m dragging my shirt off to try to cool down.
I knew she was different the moment she opened her mouth back at the bar. “You sing rock with so much soul. Who hurt you?”
“No one gets close enough to do me any harm.”
“That’s a pity.”
“It’s a pity I’ve never been hurt?”
“No, it’s a pity you’ve never loved anyone enough to get hurt.”
My heart started beating for what felt like the first time as I looked into her sultry eyes. I could blame the booze, but I can’t lie to myself. She had me thinking twice about things I never considered once before.
Who was this woman?
Even with our stomachs full, we weren’t satisfied. She dragged me by the belt down the hall to my bedroom. Her clothes were off and mine quickly followed before we tumbled into bed.
Fast. I want to fuck her fast and hard, but every time our eyes connect, there’s such sadness found in her grays that I slow down. Wanting her to hold the contact, I cup her cheek. “Hannah?”
Her eyes slowly open, the long lashes framing the lust I find between them. “What?” she asks between heavy breaths.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m good.”
“Just making sure.”
She runs her hands up my neck and into the hair on the back of my head. “I’m sure.” Pulling me down to her, our mouths are just a few inches apart when she whispers, “I want you. I want to do this.”
Shy isn’t something I’d call her, considering we were in my bed two hours after meeting. I like a woman who knows what she wants, and Hannah knows. And fuck if it isn’t a turn-on that she wants me.
I nod before kissing her, getting lost in the soft caresses of her tongue mingling with mine and the feel of her nails lightly scraping my scalp as she holds me close.
