“I’m getting more ribs,” Eric says, going back for round two of food.
“Go, before Will eats it all,” Meg replies with a laugh, earning a glare from her husband, who’s licking BBQ sauce off his fingers.
It’s chaos for a while, as everyone chats and catches up on the past couple of months since we’ve seen each other.
“He needs a job,” Lori says, pointing to Gary. “I swear, you guys come off tour, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. I’d be happy if he just volunteered somewhere.”
“With five kids he should have plenty to do,” Will says.
“They have their own routine,” Gary says. “I don’t mess with it much when I’m home because it just screws things up for her when I leave again.”
“I get it,” Cher says with a sigh. “But I’m glad you’re home.”
“Same,” Sam says quietly and climbs into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. I know she hates it when I tour because I’m gone for so long, but it’s part of the job.
DJ already has a guitar in his hands, randomly strumming. He starts playing the chords for a P!nk duet Sam and I love. She smiles down at me, and suddenly, to my utter shock, starts to sing.
Sam never sings in public, despite my urging her to. She says she leaves that to me.
But her voice is perfect for this song, and I join in on my parts, looking into her eyes as we sing in perfect harmony.
When the song is over we get a standing ovation, and Meg’s shaking her head.
“Looks like I have competition and I didn’t even know it.”
“No,” Sam replies. “Absolutely not. Leo and I play around here at home, but I don’t sing in public.”
“You should,” Eric says. “You’re fucking good.”
“Leo’s the musician in the family,” she insists, patting my cheek and leaning in for a kiss. “Are you hungry?” she asks me.
“I am, actually.”
“Want me to go get you something?”
“I’d love that, thank you.” I cup her chin and kiss her once more before she hops off of my lap and I slap her ass.
“That’s harassment,” she calls over her shoulder as she walks away.
“You’re welcome,” I call back, making her laugh. The sound slides over my skin, making my gut clench.
God, I fucking love her.
“How’s football going, Will?” Gary asks him.
“Good. It’s early in the season yet, but the team is strong this year. Should be a good one. You’ll have to come up sometime for a game. My family keeps a box and you’re welcome to join them.”
“That would be awesome,” Lori says and claps her hands. “I love football.”
“You’re my kind of woman,” Will says with a wink.
DJ is still strumming the guitar, something I don’t recognize.
“What is that?” I ask him.
“Something I’ve been fiddling with,” he replies. “I have some lyrics too, but I’m hung up on the bridge.”
“Let’s hear it,” Jake says, eating some corn on the cob now. Sam delivers my plate, full of the corn, a burger, kabobs. If it’s up there, she put it on my plate.
“Thanks, Sunshine. DJ’s going to play something he’s working on.”
Her eyes flicker with something I can’t name, but she smiles and sits next to me. “Cool.”
The song is a ballad, about missing home and the woman who waits for him there.
“Again,” Gary says, picking up his own guitar, and I take the lead while he and DJ sing harmony. In the third verse, Meg picks up a higher harmony, and the song sounds badass.
The others are chatting around us, eating food, and enjoying the day, but I’m lost in this song.
It’s going to be a hit.
Before long, we’ve worked through the bridge, and have a complete song on our hands.
“This is fucking awesome,” Jake says. “Let’s go hit Leo’s studio and record what we have.”
“This isn’t a working weekend, you guys,” Cher reminds us all.
“You can’t turn off the creative genius, baby,” DJ replies with a wink, but Cher just glares at him.
“We won’t forget this,” I say. I can see the look on Sam’s face, and it clearly says do not go record that song.
“I have some things that I’ve been working on, too,” Meg says with a smile. “Since I had Erin, I’ve been full of creativity.”
“Let’s hear it,” I say.
I haven’t enjoyed an afternoon like this in a very long time. Jamming with the guys is like coming home. I think we all needed it because we’re buzzing with energy by the time we finish fine-tuning one of Meg’s songs.
“It’s decided,” DJ says with a grin. “Meg has to do a duet with us on the next album.”
“I can’t tour, guys,” she insists. “I have a job and a kid. And a husband.”
“You can prerecord your tracks and do a video for us to play at shows when you can’t be there,” Gary suggests. “People do that all the time.”
“And then you can perform with us when we’re in Seattle,” I add. “You do it all the time anyway. Say yes.”
She looks at Will, biting her lip. Will just shrugs and smiles at her. “It’s totally up to you, Megan. You know I’m fine with it.”
“We’re a ways out before we start recording again,” I remind her. “You don’t have to decide today.”
“Maybe we can talk Leo into hitting the studio earlier,” Jake says. “I mean, we have half an album already, just from jamming today. There’s no need to wait until next year.”
“Except you promised your wives that you would take the year off,” Cher says. Her eyes are flashing with annoyance.
“She’s right.” I shrug and set my guitar aside. “We did promise them. There’s nothing wrong with taking a year off.”
“It’s boring,” Eric replies.
“Go write for someone else,” DJ suggests. “You write constantly. It doesn’t mean that Nash has to record everything. You can sell your songs to other artists.”
“You guys really wouldn’t mind?” Eric asks. “I don’t want to piss anyone off. My songs have always been for the band.”
“Writing is your outlet,” I reply. “There’s no way we can possibly record all of the songs you write. You should sell them. Write all day every day if you want to.”
Eric grins. “Okay, as long as you’re sure. I’ve had some interest, but I didn’t want to step on your toes. The band always comes first.”
“Do it,” Lori says. “Lots of musicians do this. David Bryan, the keyboardist for Bon Jovi? He writes music for Broadway. I say do whatever makes your heart happy.”
“I don’t want to do Broadway,” Eric says. “But I’d like to write more.”
“So let’s talk about when we do go back out on tour,” Jake says.
“Why?” Lori asks. “Can’t you guys talk about anything else? Sports? Race cars? Gardening? Anything!”
“Gardening?” Eric snorts, but then narrows his eyes on Gary. “Does she have you gardening?”
“What?” Gary asks. “My yard looks damn good, thank you.”
“He’s a rockstar that’s been voted one of the best of our generation, and his wife makes him mow the damn lawn,” Jake says, shaking his head in disgust.
“What do you do with your off time?” Sam asks.
“Play video games, of course.”
“I’m very good at video games,” Meg says, but Will just rolls his eyes.
“She cheats.”
“I do not.”
“You do too.”
“Whatever.” Meg rolls her eyes. “Not that I have time to play them these days, but I am good at it. Will just doesn’t like it because I beat him.”
“Now that’s a flat-out lie.”
“Really.” She cocks a brow and leans in to whisper something in his ear. Will smiles and shrugs a shoulder.
“Promises, promises.”
“Hey, get a r
oom,” Sam says with a laugh.
“Seriously, Leo,” DJ says, “let’s go up and record this ballad. It’s awesome just as it is. We could release it as a surprise single.”
“It’ll take ten minutes,” Gary says.
“Okay, let’s go. But just one song.”
I glance to my right to tell Sam I’ll be right back, but she’s already gone, walking into the house.
Meg stands and runs after her.
Sam
I knew it.
I march into the kitchen and begin checking on the food, combining the last kabob on one plate onto a full plate of others and clearing it away.
Anything to get away from the conversation outside.
Meg walks in and shuts the door behind her.
“Are you okay?”
“Great.” I drop a glass into the sink with a clunk. “Never better. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you look like you’re ready to kill that chicken again, and it’s already dead.”
“You know, all I wanted was one year. Just one. No album releases, no tour, no special appearances. I wanted a year with my husband. And clearly that’s just not going to happen because they’re already writing songs and recording them.”
“Sam, this is just what they do when they’re together,” Meg reminds me, but I shake my head.
“Maybe I was naïve to think that I could be married to a rock star.”
“I think you’re selling yourself short.”
“Am I?” I wipe down the countertop, which was not dirty, by the way, then throw the sponge in the sink. “Because I’ve grown to hate it. And I used to love it.”
“I’m telling you, they’re having fun. They’re catching up and enjoying each other. Making music is who they are when they’re together, it doesn’t mean that they’re going to release an album or leave for tour next week. I’ve been around them for more than half my life. Trust me, this is normal.”
“I know you’re right.” I lean on my hands and hang my head. “I’ve been dreading this weekend because it meant that I wouldn’t have him to myself anymore, and I’d be sharing him with the people who always take him away from me. But they’re his family too, and I need to remember that.”
“Exactly. When you’re with your family, you laugh and play around. That’s all he’s doing here.”
“Thanks.” I look up at her with a smile. “Thanks for putting it all into perspective for me. I needed that today.”
“That’s what I’m here for. Now, what’s for dessert?”
“I have a lemon meringue pie and a s’mores trifle.”
“Dear God, I love that you always have both lemon and chocolate around. It’s not good for my waistline, but the sugar junky in me applauds you.”
“Actually, let’s take this stuff outside so everyone can have some.”
I load up trays with the desserts, plates and utensils, and by the time we walk out with it all, Leo and the boys are back from the studio. Leo’s changed out of his T-shirt into a loose tank that shows off all of his tattoos.
And although they’re covered, I can’t help but think of the stars that are on his hips, and how I want to trace them with my tongue later tonight.
“That was quick,” I say, offering him some dessert.
“The song’s easy.” He takes the plate, but then snags his hand around my wrist and tugs me back into his lap. “Have I told you today that I love you?”
And just like that, I’m as mushy as I get.
“What do you want?”
“Just you.” He plants a kiss on me. “Where did you go?”
“I wanted to check on the food and bring out dessert.”
I don’t mention my mini meltdown because it won’t do any good. I don’t want to start an argument with everyone here.
Especially one that I can’t win.
I take a deep breath and try to shake my mood. I don’t want the day to be ruined. So they talk about touring and music, as they should. It’s their job.
I need to not take everything so personally and just enjoy my husband and his friends.
“Hey,” Jake says with a laugh, “remember in Nashville when Eric brought those two chicks into the bus and fucked them both?”
And, queue uncomfortable silence.
“Which tour was that on?” Lori asks.
“That last one,” Jake says. “We were in Nashville in what, February?”
“February,” DJ says, avoiding eye contact with his wife, who’s shooting daggers at him.
I’m watching Leo, but he has no reaction at all, just shakes his head.
“Wait,” Lori says, holding up her hand. “You had women on your bus in February?”
“Yeah,” Eric says with a sigh, then laughs at the memory. “Man, they were wild.”
“No, this is not cool, Eric,” Lori says. “We have a rule, a longstanding rule at that, that there are to be no women on the goddamn bus.”
“Hey, I was drunk and we weren’t near the hotel,” he says, holding hands out at his side. “What was I supposed to do? The girls wanted me to show them a good time. And man did I.”
“The one tried to climb in bed with Leo,” Jake adds, and my gaze whips to my husband, who’s still impassive.
“Wasn’t it Nashville when I wasn’t able to reach you?” I ask him. His eyes turn to mine, and his whole body goes rigid.
“Are you accusing me of something?”
“No, I just find it interesting.”
“I don’t,” Cher says. “I’m pissed the fuck off. I don’t care if you were drunk, Eric, you’re a grown-ass man and that’s not an excuse. Stop acting like a child and get your shit together. Respect your bandmates and their wives already, you dumb-ass man child.”
Lori and I stand, slow-clapping in support of Cher’s lecture, but Eric scowls.
“I’m single,” he insists. “I can fuck whomever I want. And I own part of that bus, so if I want to fuck one or ten women in it, I will.”
“Looks like you’ll be taking your own fucking bus from now on,” Cher replies. “Because I’m not okay with that.”
“I’m not either,” I add. “I put up with a lot. We all do. But not that. So fuck them all day long and have your dick fall off from all the VD you’re gonna get, but don’t do it when my husband is on the same bus. It’s a douche move.”
“It’s old news,” Leo says. “And it’s not typical. Since Lori set the rule years ago, this is the first time it’s happened.”
“Yeah, and Jake couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut,” Eric grumbles.
“That, right there,” Cher says, pointing at Eric, “is why I hate touring. Because you say shit like that, and now I can’t help but wonder what else happens that we’re not privy to. It’s not cool, Eric.”
“There’s nothing that you’re not privy to,” DJ assures her. “I talk to you every single night.”
“They’re dumb,” Gary says with a sigh. “Nothing happens. I don’t even know why Jake said something.”
“Because it was funny,” Jake says with a shrug. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
Oh, it’s a big deal.
We drop the subject, but the rest of the evening is quieter, and everyone leaves earlier than they normally would.
I’m already in our bedroom when Leo walks in after saying goodnight to everyone. They’re staying at a hotel downtown.
“Well, that was a shitshow,” I say.
“I’m sorry,” Leo says, dragging his hand down his face. He looks like sex on a stick, standing in the doorway, with his tattoos and the lip piercing, his hair spikey.
He’s my rockstar, my love.
I want to jump him.
I also want to strangle him.
“I should have told you about Eric’s fuckery.”
“Yes, you should have, but I don’t really give a shit about Eric. I know he’s a dumbass, and Cher’s right, he needs to grow the fuck up.”
I don’t want to argu
e in our bedroom, so I stomp past Leo, out to the second floor living space.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Leo.” I take a deep breath, then turn to him. “I knew this would turn into a brainstorming session for a new album and tour. I knew it.”
“We didn’t brainstorm a new album.”
“No, you just wrote about six songs and talked about touring non stop.” I throw my hands in the air. “I’m not okay with that, Leo. You promised me you’d take a year off.”
“And I am,” he says. His voice is hard, and his jaw ticks from clenching it. “I just enjoyed a day with my friends.”
I prop my hands on my hips and stare at him. I can’t win this argument. Ever.
“Sam, you knew that this is what I do when you married me.”
“I know that. And I love you. I want to see more of you.”
“We have a two-week rule,” he insists. “I’ve never broken that.”
“Yeah, they get two weeks, and I get two days. In the six years we’ve been together, I’ve never complained. Not once. Because you’re right, I did know what I was getting myself into. And I’m damn proud of you. But it’s hard, Leo.”
“Are you going to ask me to choose, Samantha? Between you or music?”
My whole body breaks out in a cold sweat.
“What if I am?”
His hands ball into fists. “That’s not fair.”
I turn away from him, marching through the space, looking through tear-filled eyes at this magnificent house he built for me, and how wonderful our life is.
“You know, you gave me this gorgeous home. You’ve built an amazing life for me.” I turn back to him. “And I live it alone. How is that fair?”
He flinches, and I feel like I’m dying inside.
“I miss my husband, and I’m not going to apologize for that, Leo. Don’t you miss me when you’re gone? Don’t you get even a little homesick?”
“Of course! I love you! I’m doing all of this for you.”
“Don’t you dare put this all on me, Leo Nash. That’s not fair either.” I point a finger in his chest, watching as his nostrils flare with frustration and anger. “I have everything I could possibly want and more. I just want you. I want a marriage with my husband.
“I’m not asking you to choose. Making music is part of who you are, and I’m so in love with you it makes me stupid. But I need you to give as much time and energy to me as you give to music.”
Indulge With Me (With Me In Seattle Book 10) Page 6
