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“That’s next on my to-do list.” She stared up at him, green eyes flashing. “If you stay, I might tell you.”
“I’ll take that as an invitation.” Which was good because this was exactly where he wanted to be.
“Sit.” She patted the bed. “I could use a fresh set of ears.” She sat cross-legged, tugged her shirt over her bare knees, and scooped her guitar off the ground. “Working on the melody mostly. I have a few ideas.” She pointed at one sheet. “But I’ll know what I want when I hear it.” She tapped out a soft beat against the side of her guitar.
He nodded, his eyes scanning the music. It was the music she’d been humming that night in her kitchen. “This is the pie night song.”
“Pie night?” She laughed, her fingers stopping. “You remember that?”
“Damn good pie.” He winked her way before reading over the lyrics. “You want to play it for me?”
She hesitated, chewing her lip again. With a nod of her head, she said, “If you open those Red Vines, I might consider it.”
He opened the bag and held one out to her. She leaned down, mouth open, to bite the end of the Red Vine. But she changed direction and leaned farther forward, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Red Vine in her mouth, she sat back, grinning.
A kiss on the cheek and he was happy. Damn happy. “What was that for?”
“Nothing.” She shrugged, the Red Vine hanging from the corner of her mouth. Her fingers strummed over the guitar strings, her gaze moving over the pages in front of her. “I’m thinking this.” She plucked out the notes, pausing now and then to try a different chord or tempo.
“Faster but lower.” He nodded when she got it. “That.”
She leaned forward, her Red Vine almost gone, to scribble more notes on the page. “I like that.”
“I’ve held her forever, right here in my arms. Protect her and love her and keep her from harm. From my baby girl to the love of his life. More than my daughter, now she’s his wife.” He paused. “The sunshine, the flowers, the smile on her face. A walk down the aisle, to her favorite place. Standing beside the one who she loves. Exchanging promises before the man up above.”
He paused, reading ahead. “Wait…”
“That’s the chorus.” She tapped the paper with her Red Vine.
He nodded, hummed, then sang. “She’s smiling, she’s happy, in her pretty white dress. And I gave her up, ‘cause I knew he was best…” He glanced up at her, then back at the page. “We both love her, need her, will put her first. But it’s his turn now. I’m watching her dancing, dancing, in someone else’s arms.” He stared at her. “Father-daughter song?”
Krystal nodded, another Red Vine in her mouth. “For my daddy. If he likes it.”
“He will.” Jace stared at the words. “Might be a good wedding song? That whole daddy-daughter dance thing.” He sat forward, grabbing a pencil from the pile of writing tools and jotting a note. “Fiddle. Right here?” He looked at her. “And guitar.”
She picked up the page, her green eyes widening. “Yes. You are a genius.” She stared at him.
“You won’t hear me argue.” He leaned back against the wall, lifting his arm so Clementine could make herself at home in his lap. “You heard her, right, Clem? That right there was a compliment. From your momma.”
“Don’t get used to it.” She waved her Red Vine at him, yawning.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” But he caught her Red Vine in his mouth and yanked it out of her hand.
“I thought those were for me?” Another yawn.
“I thought you’d share?” He lifted up Clementine. “What’s that? You’re disappointed in her?”
Krystal’s smile faded a little. “Join the club.”
It was like a punch to the gut. Not just her words, but her attempt at dismissing the slip that said so much. She didn’t want his sympathy or his questions but she did want him. He’d work with what he had. He set Clem down on the bed beside him, stacked up the papers and note cards, and put them on the floor by the bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked, watching as he kicked off his boots.
“Getting some sleep.” He stood, tugging off his shirt and opening her closet for a hanger. “Borrowing this.” No answer. He hung up his shirt and turned to fin
d her staring at his tattoos. She had a thing for his tattoos. “If that’s okay?”
“Sleep?” she repeated, definitely staring at his tattoos.
