Page 19 of Devoted Intent


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The fish sizzles in the pan, and once I confirm it’s cooked all the way, I pull it off and place it next to the taco fixings.Jolie walks into the kitchen, her hands freshly washed, and her stomach immediately rumbles.

She gives me a small, sheepish grin as her hand covers her stomach.“Sorry.I guess I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“It’s okay.Help yourself,” I say, gesturing to the spread in front of us.She’s had a bad habit of forgetting to eat regularly since Robbie died, which was one of the reasons I instituted Taco Tuesday.It’s a guaranteed night every week where we eat tacos together—whether at my house or at a restaurant or taco truck—although I often find other reasons to stop by with food or get her out of the house for a meal or two.She thinks our Taco Tuesday tradition is just another way I’m trying to keep her from becoming an agoraphobe.She’s partially right, but I also want to make sure she eats.

She takes a bite and then lets out a soft moan that makes my stomach clench and my dick take notice.

“God, this is good.If you weren’t such an amazing musician, I’d tell you to quit the band and open your own taco truck.How’d you learn to cook like this?”

I brush off her compliment, even as it warms my insides.“Tacos aren’t exactly hard.”

“We’ve eaten at some of the best Mexican restaurants on the west coast, and they weren’t as flavorful as these, so don’t give me that excuse.”

I shrug.“I taught myself.I have a lot of downtime when we’re between tours.”

“Hmm,” she hums, watching me thoughtfully, but she doesn’t pry any further.

“I, uh, got something for you,” I say as I move to the hall closet right next to the kitchen and pull out the small, wrapped present.I place it in front of her, and then shove my hands in my jeans pockets so I won’t fidget.I’m normally good at picking out presents for her, but this time I’m not sure.

“I know you said you didn’t really want to do anything for your birthday this year, but I saw this and it made me think of you, so I got it.”

She stares at me for a beat before her eyes drop down to the present.Her delicate fingers gently remove the wrapping paper and then she lifts open the lid of the box.Her lips part on a gasp.

“Tristan!This is too much.”

“No, it’s not.”Money has never been a concern of mine when it comes to her.

She pulls out the Leica camera like it’s made of glass.

“I know you’ve always wanted one.This one came highly recommended and isn’t as bulky as your SLR, so you can carry it with you a lot more easily.”

“I can’t believe you did this, Tristan.”She shakes her head, and finally her gaze settles on mine with nothing but joy and gratitude in her eyes.Relief washes over me, along with a little pride that I was able to make her happy, if only for a minute.

“You like it?”

“Are you kidding?I love it!Thank you so much!”She darts around the counter and throws her arms around my neck.My hands automatically wrap around her, and I close my eyes, savoring the feel of her in my arms.If this is the reaction I get, I might have to buy her every camera I can get my hands on.

We settle back onto our separate stools and eat in relative silence for a few minutes, her eyes periodically glancing at the camera and her lips quirking up in a small smile every time.As we finish our tacos, she gestures with her head toward the entryway by my front door.“What’s with all the boxes?”

“I finally repurposed Trent’s old room into a room for my guitars.”

Before Trent married Becka, he and I lived here together.It’s been lonely without him.It’s also the first time I’ve lived alone in my entire life.When we were a struggling band, we all lived together in a small little house near Austin.Once we started getting bigger gigs, we moved to LA and lived in the only place we could afford.Then one by one we moved into our own places, but Trent and I were used to always living together, so we bought this house which gave us both the space we needed while knowing the other was only down the hall.

Then he moved out, and not long after that, Robbie told me that he and Jo were trying for a baby.It was the lowest I’d been in a long time, so I started slowly making the house my own.I’d been planning on putting the guitar room together sooner, but after Robbie died, I put all my focus into taking care of Jolie.

She tilts her head.“I’m sorry.Did you just say you have an entire room dedicated to your guitars?”

I nod.

“I didn’t realize you had so many,” she says.

Since I’m already excited about finally having them out of storage, I get up and motion for her to follow me.She takes one more bite of her taco—which pleases me to no end—and then follows me.When I open the door, her eyes widen.

“Woah,” she says, her gaze scanning the room and admiring each guitar.

“I started collecting them after high school.I have my acoustic which I still like to use when I’m initially drafting a song, then I have the electric one I use for band practice.But the rest of these are just for display, although they all work.”

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