Page 173 of Burning Bridges Duet

The Muffin Man is practically vibrating behind the counter, plates clattering louder than my chords, shooting me death glares between orders.

Mission accomplished.

Annoying Jaxon is still my favorite hobby—right up there with getting Liv to make those little breathy sounds that drive me wild.

The brunch spot was dead quiet when I rolled in. Jaxon, in one of his rare chill moods, actually said, “Nice to have a slow morning for once.”

Big mistake.

I had my acoustic in the car—always do—and I thought, challenge accepted. Popped the case open like I was back in college busking for beer money, planted myself by the window, and let “Wonderwall” rip.

Cliché? Hell yeah.

Effective? Like a damn nuke on Jaxon’s nerves.

Now the place is packed—phones out, muffins flying, Jaxon barking at people to “sit or scram.” I spot River and Liv weaving through the crowd, her hand in his, and my chest does that stupid flip it always does when I see her. I wrap up the song, voice cracking into a laugh on the last note.

“Thank you, thank you!” I call out, bowing as if I’m standing on a big stage and not in Jaxon’s sweet little brunch spot. “I’m here every two weeks, mostly surprise gigs, so make sure to come by often. Sunshine Beach Brunch, best muffins in Florida!”

Groans, cheers, and a couple of “play it agains!” fill the dining area, then the autograph swarm hits. Napkins, phone cases, one guy even shoves a muffin at me. I sign a few things, eyes on Liv as Chase sidles up to Jaxon, pats his shoulder like he’s calming a bull, then lifts the muffin display lid and goes to town. Liv snags one too, plants a kiss on Jaxon’s cheek that makes him soften for half a second before he’s back to grumbling.

I give it another ten seconds, maybe twelve. Then it’s too much. I want to be where she is, not watching from across a crowded room and seeing how she’s happy without me.

I need those lips.

I push through the crowd to River, but he just waves and makes that little “I’m out” gesture, thumb to the door. Can’t blame him, I know crowds still spike his anxiety.

This reminds me a little of the tour and the four months I was away last year. We had killer shows, screaming fans, but fuck, I missed them. Missed her.

Never again.

If Dirty Velvet tours, Liv and River are coming. Hell, I’ll drag Chase and Jaxon along too if I can swing it. We’re done with long separations. Five years glued together made those four months feel like four years.

Currently, the band is writing new songs and taking it easy, and I’m more than fine with doing new music and a few concerts, period. Touring is the only part that sucks at being popular, and it’s crazy to say, but we’ve made it. We really did. Everything that comes now is just a bonus anyway.

Some girl grabs my arm, all batting lashes. “One more signature?”

I peel her off me. “Sorry, time’s up. My girl’s waiting.”

She pouts and makes a disgruntled trumpet noise, but I’m already moving.

There’s only one girl I care about.

I practically yank her from Jaxon’s side so I can kiss her stupid. With a deep, hungry press of my lips, I pour a whole lot of I missed you into it. The crowd hoots and whistles, while I bite her lip, just enough to make her flinch, but she retaliates and nips at my lip piercing, making me breathe a laugh against her pretty mouth.

“How’s my baby girl doing? Good dance session?”

“Yes, and did you have a good ‘annoy Jaxon’ session?”

Jaxon growls behind her. “Yeah, don’t think I didn’t clock what you did, you little brat.”

I sling an arm around Liv, pulling her in tight. “Oh, hush. I just made sure you won’t have a slow day for weeks.”

“Exactly,” he mutters, but there’s a reluctant grin tugging at his mouth.

Leaning down to Liv, I ask, “Ready to see the turtles, baby?”

She beams up at me, that smile that still knocks me flat. “Ready when you are.”