The Crow Brothers: JET - TULSA - RIVERS - RIDGE

by Scott, S. L.

  “Better than good.”

  “The donuts or the sex? I’m confused,” she says, licking the corner of her mouth. We’re both covered in pieces of glaze that have fallen from the sweet dough.

  “The sex.”

  Tilting her head up, she says, “It’s because it’s been so long.”

  “No,” I reply, rubbing her bare back. “It’s because we’re good together. We always were. One day you’ll realize that chemistry like ours is hard to find.” I finish off another donut, then lean in to lick sugar glaze from her chest.

  “Maybe.” She doesn’t say more, conflicted between what she wants and what she thinks she needs. I’ve been there. I went with what I thought I needed—my ex—and later realized she wasn’t what I even wanted. I learned the hard way, of course, and maybe that’s the only way Meadow will learn that lesson as well.

  Sometimes I wonder why I can’t seem to get her out of my system. In the aftermath of sex is probably not the best time to try to see things clearly.

  Meadow fills the holes that others have left behind, the voids that fame leave inside. The fame I never wanted. I wanted to be a working musician.

  Answers come easy. I don’t want simple. That’s boring. I like Meadow’s complications and her quirks. She makes me feel so much at once—unlike anyone else ever has—but at ease just as equally. Whole and at peace. In the crazy life I lead, she seems to be all I need.

  I may have met Meadow when my star was already on the rise, but she never had an interest in that side of my life. Fame doesn’t impress her. Money that’s spent frivolously doesn’t attract her.

  Her breathing evens, so I close my eyes, wanting mine to find that same comfort at night. Turning off my mind, I rest my worries about what will happen tomorrow and try to savor tonight.

  * * *

  The bed is empty next to me when I wake up. Feels like every other morning of my life, and I hate it. “Meadow?”

  She’s in the doorway with her hand on her hip, messy hair, my T-shirt covering up all the good stuff . . . Well, almost all of it. She’s wearing that sexy smirk that got me wound up last night. “What is it, rock star?”

  “Come give me a kiss.”

  With a big smile, she runs and jumps on the bed next to me. Quickly straddling me, she tilts her head to the side, and says, “Where do you want it?”

  Flipping her down onto her back, I maneuver between her legs, and make sure she feels every inch of how happy I am to see her this morning. “Anywhere you might be so inclined to lay those lips, sweetheart.”

  Gently running her fingertips over my lips, she says, “I think I’ll start here,” and rises to kiss me. With her hands pushing against my chest, I fall back to the mattress, letting her control the pace and position. Leaning over me, she slides her hand under the covers. The heat of her touch engulfs another part of me. “Then I’ll move down there.”

  When her mouth replaces her hand, I sink into the mattress, getting lost in the bliss of her kiss, quickly bringing me to teeter at the edge.

  I weave my fingers into her hair when I reach the brink of orgasm. As I lift her up, her eyes meet mine, questions of why I’m stopping her filling the irises. “C’mere.”

  “You sure?” she asks.

  “I’m sure.” When she falls against my side, her hair fans across the pillow and covers my face. “I want to be inside you.” I push the strands aside and roll on top of her again.

  “You were,” she says with the sweetest smile.

  “I want to be inside you and see your eyes.”

  Cupping my face, she whispers, “Then what are you waiting for?”

  Our clothes fly off and we’re back in the same position. This time I hold my chest above her but press the tip between her legs. “Do you have to be anywhere this morning?”

  I love the slow joy that works its way in to the corners of her mouth, spreading like wildfire against her slightly swollen lips. When she bites her lower one, teasing me, she stares into my eyes and tightens her arms around my neck. “I have a little time.”

  “I should warn you.” Resting up on my elbows, I scrape across my bottom lip with my thumb, feeling so damn lucky to be here.

  “About?”

  “This isn’t going to be rough, and I’m not going to rush. This isn’t about desperation or need. This is about you and me and how every time we’re together, something incredible happens. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. We fit, Meadow. When you walk out of this room, you’ll remember every inch and minute we spent together.” I may not be rushing, but I’m still hot for her. I kiss her, and that kiss leads to everything more.

  * * *

  Any excuse to convince her to stick around has been used.

  “It’s Stella’s wedding day. I have to be there for her.”

  Selfishly, I want her here for me.

  Wearing one of my T-shirts that swallows her whole, she kisses me one last time. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  She’s asking when she never has to worry. “I’ll see you later.”

  With her dress draped over her arm and her shoes in her hands, she opens the door and blows me a kiss. Neither of us knows what to say, so we don’t. She slips out the door, and I’m left staring at the back of it, stupidly wishing it would open and she’d come back to me.

  Logically, I know she can’t. It’s Stella’s wedding day, but damn if I’m not jealous of anyone who gets to spend their day with her. Instead of moaning about her leaving, I get up and shower, then head down to the main house for food. It’s been a few hours since I found donuts on the counter. The workout we did all night has left me starving and needing replenishment.

  Darcy sits at the counter. “Good morning,” she says with that same canary smile.

  “It is a good morning.” I work my way around the counter to pour a cup of coffee. Holding up the pot, I ask, “Coffee?”

  “I’ll take a top up.”

  I fill her mug and then my own. Grabbing a plate, I start loading it with food from the platters covering the long island bar—eggs, bacon, and fruit.

  Sitting on a barstool, she pushes her plate away and rubs her stomach. “This is quite amazing. This place. The food. The drinks. Anything you need, you can have here.”

  I nod, feeling like she’s going somewhere with this lead-in. “Paradise.”

  “You’re not going to hurt her, are you?”

  My gaze shoots up. Obviously, she means Meadow, but since I’m not sure where she’s going with this, I play dumb. “Hurt her?”

  She cocks an eyebrow, not letting me off the hook. “You know what I’m saying. Meadow acts tough, but she’s soft inside. She hasn’t developed her stiff upper lip.”

  “I hope she doesn’t.”

  That makes Darcy smile. “Me either.” The lightness lifts from her tone as she eyes me up. “We don’t know each other at all, and although I’ve read up on you online, she’s quite vulnerable to you.”

  Vulnerable is not something I think of when I think of Meadow. Guarded. Protective of her heart. Giving. Sensitive. Sweet. Stubborn . . . Vulnerable. She has that wall around her, but the few times I’ve gotten a peek on the other side, I realize she is vulnerable. “I would never hurt her.”

  “On purpose.”

  “Yes, on purpose or otherwise, if I can help it.”

  She stands and taps the counter. “Good.”

  As she walks out, I say, “Good talk. Good talk.”

  The door closes, and I stand there staring at my plate. I would never hurt Meadow. If anything, I’ve set myself up to be hurt. I’m the one who is vulnerable to that gorgeous woman.

  Meadow and I have been around this block before. Not full-on, but for us both to have a little hesitancy with the excitement. When she said I could have her for the night, did she really only mean the one night?

  Laird and Tommy walk in right when I’m about to toss away my food. “Brah, we’re heading out for a surf. Come with?”

  “Yeah, I think I will.”
Surfing is not something I’ve done but twice before when Laird convinced me to go with him in San Diego. That water was fucking cold, and you couldn’t see for shit what was beneath you.

  Hawaii has clear blue ocean, and the water’s warm. Time to lose myself in something other than Meadow for a while.

  * * *

  My back is scraped up from hitting the rocks, bruises along the back of my arms. Probably not my best idea considering my body is necessary to perform and we have a show in a week’s time.

  Sitting on my board, my feet dangle in the water. Laird paddles up and says, “Taking a breather or waiting for a wave?”

  “Breather. This is tough, man.”

  “A great workout. Keeps me in shape enough to play a long set on a good night.”

  Holding my arm up, I say, “This bitch burns.”

  “Ich. That looks rough. Aloe will heal that. Nature’s medicine.”

  Sometimes I forget he’s so at one with the ocean and the surf scene when he’s ripping hard chords on the guitar on stage. “What happened to Tommy?”

  “He and Shane threw in the towel an hour in.”

  “I’m throwing it in now and taking the next wave.”

  He looks around to find the sun. “It’s almost three. Wedding’s at four. We should head in. You hit it first. I’ll take up the tail.”

  Looking around, the water can’t be more flat. “Fuck. We might have to paddle in.”

  “Just wait a few. There are waves on the horizon. They’ll be here soon.” He floats next to me, sitting on top of his board, waiting. “So Meadow, huh?”

  “Yeah. Meadow.” I glance over at him, but don’t elaborate. I’m not surprised he picked up on it really. He’s observant.

  “She’s hot.”

  “She is.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

  “Not much to say.”

  “Seems like there was more than you pretend.”

  “Not pretending. Taking things slow, like a snail’s pace.”

  I catch him looking at me. “That’s cool.” He says, “Wave’s coming. It’s now or never.”

  “Now or never.” Taking off as fast as I can, I start paddling, and hope I don’t wipe out. Story of my life.

  22

  Ridge

  Alfie makes his way down the aisle, looking for Hannah, who he finds sitting with Violet behind Meadow up front. The kid makes his mom proud, standing patiently next to Rivers.

  When Rivers and Stella changed their minds at the last minute and went from all the stuffy traditions to what felt right for them, the location also changed. The large outdoor pavilion became only the site for the reception. The wedding was moved to the beach.

  Under a clear blue sky, Jet walks down a petal path in the sand with the beautiful bride on his arm. The sound of sniffles fills the air, and I find Meadow with tears in her eyes as she watches her sister.

  The skirt of the pink dress flows in the breeze, a few strands of her hair blowing across her face. I should be watching the bride or listening to what’s being said, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off my personal sunshine.

  I was running late after surfing. Rushing over here, I wasn’t sure where to sit, so Marisol guided me to this side of the aisle and the ceremony began, so I stayed. I regret it now. The distance between Meadow and me is too far and too tenuous.

  When Stella and Jet pass and everyone remains standing, I dash out the side and walk the long way around behind the other guests to stand at the end of Meadow’s row. Darcy’s smile is wide and knowing as if we’re in on the same plan. She moves down two seats, freeing the seat next to Meadow, and I slip into the spot.

  With her gaze still focused on the couple in front, Meadow angles her body, opening for me when she feels me next to her. A smile tickles her lips, but then she sniffles again, looking down as though she’s embarrassed to be crying on this beautiful day. I slip my hand around hers and hold it, her softness against the roughness of mine. So much like who we are as people and the lives we lead.

  Those walls she’s been trying so hard to maintain protect that heart of hers, but what she doesn’t realize is that I have mine on the line too. While we listen to the vows and watch the exchange of rings, I can’t help but wonder about my own destiny.

  A squeeze of her fingers around mine causes me to look at her, the view I really wanted all along. Touching her collarbone, I run my finger over her shoulder and down her arm until we’re holding hands again. I could get lost in her again, but I won’t make this about us. We have time.

  Rivers kisses his wife, and the crowd goes wild. Even though it’s not a show for the fans in attendance, I imagine it’s still the most important time he’s ever stood center stage. Stella’s never looked happier, and Rivers looks as if he just won the fucking lottery.

  He sweeps her off her feet and carries her down the aisle. She tosses her bouquet over her head, and it lands at Meadow’s feet. No one makes a move, so I nudge Meadow, and say, “I’m not saying I’m superstitious or anything, but I think you’re supposed to pick it up.”

  Looking up at me with the flowers in hands, she asks, “Superstition or tradition?”

  “Same thing, right?”

  “Kind of.” She holds her nose to a deep pink flower and closes her eyes.

  Marisol comes down the aisle, directing us to the reception. I got a dirty look when I left my seat earlier, but what Marisol thinks of me is none of my business. Now Meadow, on the other hand . . . I give a whole lot of fucks when it comes to her.

  Holding my arm out, Meadow takes it. Darcy has walked ahead, joining the rest of the guests that include all the members of The Resistance and their significant others, Rivers’s brothers and their families, Tommy, and the members of Faris Wheel. The Resistance has a show in New York tomorrow, but detoured out of their way to be here for this special day. Three bands, but one when it comes to family.

  Just outside the pavilion, I stop Meadow from going in before she gets swept away into the party. The myriad of colors that makes up her hair—blond and light brown, natural reds, and the darker strands that never seem to catch the light are highlighted by the sun as it sets into the ocean—is pulled back with loose strands that hang down, framing her pretty face. She steals my breath, like I’m realizing she’s stolen my heart.

  Seems no matter how much time has passed, Meadow Soleil stays with me—if not physically, then in spirit. Standing here with her, looking in her lively green eyes under this golden Hawaiian sky, I say, “Dance with me.”

  Emotions flicker through her eyes, weaving their way into her expression, but I struggle to read at such a fast pace. The tips of her fingers reach my cheek, and I lean into her touch. “I’d be honored.”

  I take the bouquet and set it aside before holding her hand in the air and rest my other on her hip. We start to sway just as the music from the reception begins. “My mother used to dance with me. Just like this. She told me I needed to know how to dance so one day I could dance with the woman I . . .”

  I don’t know if she doesn’t mind me finishing to protect her or to give me the relief, but we both know what I was going to say. Moving against me, she wraps her arm around my neck and holds me closer. “Your mother is . . . she’s not doing well?”

  “Damn. I didn’t see that coming.” Fuck these tears that want to come. I look toward the sun, hoping to burn them away. Exhaling a deep breath, they go back to wherever I’ve been holding them deep inside, and I choose to look in her eyes instead. “How do you know about her?”

  “Laird mentioned it as though I already knew. As though everyone already knew. But you didn’t tell me.”

  “You had a lot on your plate already, your own problems to deal with. You didn’t need mine.”

  “What if I want them? What if I want to be the one you share these things with?” I don’t know when we stopped dancing, but we’ve been standing long enough for me to notice the stillness. She begins to pace away from me. “But this ca
n’t be about us. Not today.” Whipping back around, she asks, “How is your mother? And how are you? That’s what matters. And Stella and Rivers since it’s their day. But me, don’t think twice about me.” She rushes back into my arms. “I want to be here for you.”

  “I’m not sure where to start.” It’s a lot all at once.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Meadow, I don’t want to talk about my mom. We have three days away, and if this is all I get with you, I don’t want to waste a minute.”

  She glances over her shoulder and then says, “We should go then. They’ll be back soon.”

  “They?”

  A sweet smile appears on her pretty face. “Stella and Rivers. We should be there when they are introduced.”

  “Huh? Introduced to who?”

  “No,” she says, shaking her head. “When they’re announced as husband and wife.”

  “Oh.”

  She takes my hand and grabs the bouquet again. We walk down the path and into the pavilion. Quickly turning to me, she says, “We don’t have to stay long, but I need to be here when she arrives.”

  “Yes, of course. That’s why we’re here.”

  Rubbing the top of my hand, she says, “I’m sorry about your mom. I don’t want to push, but if you want to talk about it, we can.”

  I wrap an arm around her shoulders and kiss her head. Talking about my mom won’t change anything, and although I want to share my pain with Meadow, I know today’s not that day. “Another time. Let’s just enjoy the night.”

  Everyone has been eating and drinking, celebrating on this beautiful night.

  Darcy sits across from us, and says, “Your sister looks sex-drunk.”

  Meadow looks around. “My sister’s here?”

  The newlyweds finally walk in looking very much as Darcy described. I laugh. “Good for them.”

  Rushing around the table, Meadow runs to her sister. “You’re here. Congratulations, Mrs. Crow.” She sways to the side, drunk in a different way than her sister. She hugs Rivers and then turns back to me.