“This shouldn’t take too long,” Jameson assured her as they entered his hotel room. The suite had an amazing view of the city. Daisy was mesmerized by the structures. She couldn’t wait to see it at night.
“This is beautiful,” she gushed, her attention still out the window.
“Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said—looking at her, not the skyline. He backed toward the door. “Tonight, after I’m done… we could see the city, grab a bite—there’s a place—”
“I’m not sure I’ll be hungry… at least not for that kind of food,” she said, batting innocent lashes. “How about I order room service—courtesy of your label, of course, and we spend the rest of the night… not resting.”
His breath hitched. “You’re too good to be true.”
“Then go,” she teased, shooing him out. “Hurry back.”
“Be back in an hour,” he promised.
Five hours later.
No calls. No texts. Nothing.
While she assumed he was with the band, she couldn’t help but worry.
Why isn’t he picking up?
She also tried Lenny and Kyler. Still nothing.
Daisy must have walked the length of the hotel suite two dozen times before she received a simple text stating, “Sorry, be back soon.”
While it didn’t explain anything, at least she knew he was safe.
She showered off her nerves, pulled on one of his oversized T-shirts, and curled into bed with a rerun ofFriends.
Around midnight, the door opened.
He didn’t say anything as he pulled off his pants and button-down shirt and got into bed with her. He laid his chin on her flat stomach, eyes upturned, sheepishly.
While he may have discarded his clothing, the stench of smoke still weighed heavily on him.
“You stink.”
“I know. Erik Soriano made a surprise appearance at our meeting tonight. He’s in town for the show and wanted to take us to dinner. I swear I didn’t know or I’d have sent you with Devya.”
“It’s fine,” she said, fingers in his hair. “A text earlier would’ve been nice. Just so I knew you were alive.”
“Harley makes us stash phones for meetings… no distractions. Then she left them behind, and when we finally got back, Erik wanted to toast with cigars.” He winced. “Hence the stench. I’m sorry.”
“Go wash the smoke off. I’ll wait.”
“Okay,” he mumbled and hopped off the bed.
His shower was quick and his smell had drastically improved as he slid back into bed. He rested his head on Daisy’s pillow,their faces inches apart. Their noses brushed, breath mingling, and for a long heartbeat, neither of them moved. His lips hovered—hesitant—until she trailed a hand up the warm line of his back and lifted to meet him.
She had missed his mouth, his nearness, the feel of his hands steadying her. He wasn’t hurried; he wanted to savor this—being close again, the simple rarity of the same space. He looked into her glistening eyes, reading what she tried to hide. When tears slipped from their corners, Jameson stilled and brushed them away with his thumbs. No words were spoken as Daisy bubbled out a cry.
She just looked at him, her hand stroking his face as she wept before him.
So vulnerable. So real.
He kissed the tears away, blinking back his own. He didn’t askwhy; he already knew. The months had taken their toll, lonely nights, phone calls that never felt like enough, and now the joy of being back together was flooding in at once.
“I know,darlin’,I know,” he whispered, over and over, like a mantra.
