We fall silent, my parents’ words tumbling around inside my head. That’s exactly how I feel each time Jo steps in a room. Like I’m wearing blinders to everything but her. I’m a tide pulled by the moon. And the other day at the Christmas tree farm and later at her house, it felt like she might be fighting the same pull.
We turn into a crowded parking lot, despite that the concert doesn’t start for thirty more minutes. I grab my bouquet and head to the school, my parents right behind me. Austin and Penny pull into the lot right as I’m opening the doors for my parents.
And there she is.
My eyes find Jo and I’m struck by that same sensation. It’s like someone has blurred everyone else out and all I see is her. Tonight, her curls are wild around her face and she’s easily the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. My throat goes dry at the sight of her. For a dangerous heartbeat, I imagine being alonewith her, burying my hands in that hair, tasting that mouth I can’t stop thinking about.
Jo’s eyes drop to the flowers in my hand, and her face splits into a beatific smile, eyes sparkling. Satisfaction sears through me, hot and primal, because I did that. I’m the man who put that smile on her face. And damn, if it doesn’t make me want her all the more.
Shouldering my way through the crowd, I finally reach her. My mom leans in to give Jo a hug and my dad starts to pat her on the back, but Jo gives him a side hug, catching him off guard. He returns the hug, though, smiling at me over her head.
The two of them shuffle into the row of seats, leaving me standing alone with Jo.
“She’ll love the flowers, Tyler. Thanks for that.” Jo clutches her own bouquet, and Austin and Penny walk up with another, much larger, bouquet in Austin’s hand. He looks from mine to his, grinning at me like it’s some kind of competition.
“Don’t think mine will mean much. Looks like she’ll be drowning in flowers before the night is over.”
“Hey, they mean something to me and I know Abby will love them.” Jo puts a hand on my forearm, leaning to brush a fingertip over one of the dainty blue petals. “Do you know what this flower is?”
I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak.
“This lovely little flower is a forget-me-not. The flower for love and loyalty.”
Her eyes rise to meet mine, full of tenderness, yes. But also something more swimming in their depths.
The lights dim, breaking the spell we’re under, and I clear my throat. “Guess we better find our seats.”
Austin and Penny are seated next to Mom and Dad; Jo takes the seat next to Penny with me beside her, and Jay asks for permission to sit with his friends before taking off. Jo turns, waving behind her, and I follow her movement. A row of familiar faces sits behind us—Cassie and Liam, Lisa and herhusband, even Jackson and Henry sit on the other side next to Liam.
Leaning in, I murmur in Jo’s ear, “Looks like Abby has her own little cheering section.”
She looks up at me, smiling, and angles her body nearer to mine. Jo reaches over, placing one hand on my thigh, and my body hums at the contact, blood heading south to my cock. Now is not the time to get a damn hard-on, surrounded by kids and families at my daughter’s band concert. I shift in my seat, hoping to ease my discomfort.
In perfect timing, the kids file on stage, and my focus is back where it should be. Abby takes her seat on the front row in the flute section, and I spot the minute she sees all of us. Her face lights up as bright as the North Star, and she gives a small wave from her lap. Jo waves back, so full of love.
The concert begins and, despite it being a small school, the band is pretty good. They do a mix of classic Christmas songs, like “Jingle Bells,” and some religious songs. Midway through the concert Jo grips my hand, and I look over.
“You alright?” I ask.
“Abby’s solo is next.”
“O Holy Night” begins, and Jo’s grip tightens. Throwing caution to the wind, I take her hand in mine, twining our fingers together. The relief of finally touching her, even just our fingers, is so strong I nearly sigh out loud.
When the solo begins, Jo sits up, her shoulders tense. She’s practically vibrating with nerves. I find that I’m just as nervous for Abby, silently willing her to hit every note. I heard her practicing earlier this week, and each time one of her pads would stick, forcing her to start that measure over again. But fortunately, that doesn’t happen. She comes to the end of her solo, executing it flawlessly, and Jo sinks back in her seat. A rush of pride spreads through me when Jo peers up at me, those blue-gray eyes swimming with tears.
“She was perfect, Jo,” I whisper into her ear.
“She really was,” Jo agrees.
The song ends and the auditorium erupts in applause, everyone jumping to their feet. Jo claps the loudest, even bringing her fingers to her lips to whistle. Abby looks out at her mom, shaking her head, but she’s laughing, most likely used to her mom being the loudest one in the room.
We take our seats once more, and I fully expect Jo to put distance between us now that the solo is over and she can relax, but instead, she links her fingers with mine once more. I look down at our clasped hands and then up at her, a jolt of awareness shooting through me when I see her lips curved in a knowing smile.
With the final notes still ringing out we rise to our feet, giving the band a standing ovation. The band director points to each section and they rise to be recognized. When the woodwinds stand, our little cheering section gets even louder, clapping and yelling for Abby. Abby beams with pride when Jo gives her a thumbs up.
Each kid slowly exits the stage to find their family, and I hang back as Abby greets each person. She thanks my mom and dad for the flowers, blushes bright red when Austin hands her his bouquet, but when she gets to me and accepts my bouquet, I’m stunned when she raises an arm in a one-armed side hug. I only hesitate for a second, though. I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her in.
“You did great, Abby. I’m proud of ya, kiddo.”
