Page 34 of After Care

“I didn’t know your mom was a musician,” Masie said, and I held my breath, worried that Ivy didn’t wish to share that information with people she hardly knew.

“My mother was Kit Carrigan from Chrome Teardrops. They were popular when…I guess maybe, you were in college,” she motioned to me.

“Oh, I’ve heard of her,” Masie said, sitting up excitedly. “I don’t remember her from that band, but I remember her solo with the band Colt45.”

The name startled me. I’d mentioned that band the other day to Tommy, telling him one of my all-time favorite songs was from a similarly named band. So strange, I thought, to hear the name again.

“Wait, was there more than one Colt45?” In my limited music history, the only Colt45 band I knew of was an indie band when I was in high school. I saw them play at a small bar that allowed underaged patrons on occasion.

“Possibly, but not that I know of—” Ivy started, but then Emaline raced for the pool, and Ivy stood to follow her. We shifted to the edge of the pool so Ivy could get in the water with her daughter and the conversation about her mother ended.

A few hours later we were sunburnt and a little toasted from day drinking. I was on the verge of one too many margaritas when Ivy asked us to dinner.

“It’s Sunday, and that means Tommy’s pasta night.”

I sputtered my drink as salt coated my lips. “What?” I giggled.

“Every Sunday, Tommy makes pasta for everyone, demanding we eat together like a family and not a gaggle of musicians, as he calls them. It’s open invite for others, but the band has to be present. He even does it on the road.”

“I didn’t realize today was Sunday.” I’d lost track of the days since we started our vacation, but Sunday meant we were almost halfway through our ten days of Hawaiian heaven.

“All day,” Ivy chuckled. “Anyway, we’d love to have you all join us.” I appreciated that she was including Caleb, who was mysteriously absent today. He was in bed when we left this morning but hadn’t made an appearance at the pool.

Masie looked at me expectantly, but I was already accepting the invitation. “If you’re sure, what can I bring?”

“I think Tommy wants you to bring only you,” she winked, and I choked on the swallow of margarita I tried to sip after speaking. “You don’t need to bring anything else.”

+ + +

Hours later, we arrived at the penthouse suite with wine, bread, and brownies. It was the best I could do in the small-scale galley kitchen of our condo. Besides, I wasn’t much of a cook, but I could bake. The penthouse was filled with laughter, music, and even some football bowl-game. I loved how my family seemed to meld with theirs, as Caleb immediately jumped into an argument about who would win the Rose Bowl, and Masie joined Ivy to cut vegetables for a salad. I was charged with doing nothing after Tommy greeted Masie and I with a kiss on the cheek, and a firm handshake was offered to Caleb with a pat on the back.

“Mmmmm, hope those brownies are laced with something,” Petty inhaled as I walked past him with the piled-high plate. The comment earned him a swat from Tommy.

The personal assistant in me wasn’t good sitting still while others buzzed around me, and I kept interfering, trying to taste sauce, cut vegetables, or slice bread.

“Here, I have something for you to do,” Tommy finally said, leading me down a hallway and gently shoving me into a bedroom. The door closed behind me, and I spun to have my cheeks cupped and my mouth crushed. I melted into him, relaxing a little as his lips moved over mine.

“Was that the something for me to do?” I teased, when he pulled away, sipping my lips in slow tugs.

“Yes,” he muttered before returning full mouth and thick tongue to kissing me. We only stole a few minutes before he said he needed to check the pasta.

“Please,” I begged. “Assign me something to do.” His eyebrow rose, and a smirk filled his face.

“You have no idea how many ways I want to assign you,” he teased and then turned his back to me. I reached out for his back, spreading my hands over the broad breadth of it. He paused, and I bumped into him. Slipping my hands forward, I wrapped my arms around his chest and pressed my cheek to his back. I loved back hugs. His hand rubbed down my arm and he lifted my fingers, pressing a kiss to my palm.

“Is it too much to say that I missed you today?” he said into my hand, not able to look at me. I pressed a kiss to the middle of his back. “As long as it’s okay with you that I missed you, too.”

He bared his teeth and dragged them against my tender palm. The tingling pain sent pleasure rippling down my arm, and I shivered. More than twenty-four hours without sex with him, and I was a hot mess of desire. Moisture pooled in my underwear, and I rubbed my thighs together. If there wasn’t a room full of people down the hall, I might not let him leave the bedroom. My grip tightened on him, spreading my fingers across his firm pecs.

“Darlin’, if you don’t let me go, we aren’t leaving this room, pasta-night be damned.”

I released him with pouty lips he couldn’t see, as his back remained to me. He opened the door and swatted my backside as I exited. He wasn’t following me.

“I need a minute,” he said, taking a deep breath, and my eyes shot to the bulge at his zipper.

“Stop looking, beautiful. That’s making it worse.”

I smiled broadly, my face pinking, but thankful I wasn’t the only one affected. I liked that I’d done that to him.