AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Harmony grins at me. That girl doesn’t back down from shit. But Peace lowers her hand and scoots closer to her mom.
“Just joking, Peace,” I say in a softer tone. Peace isn’t like her twin, even though they’re identical.
“Right.” Peace nods but brings the book up to cover her face. Opening it, she drops her gaze to the pages.
Shaina shakes her head at me.
Sighing, I let it go. Unlike the rest of her outgoing family, Peace doesn’t relish being the center of attention.
“So, first off,” I say loudly to regain everyone’s attention. “This band isn’t a democracy.” That quip gets some grins and a few groans. “Secondly, Merry effing Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you too,” Bryan says, and the others echo the sentiment.
“Feliz Navidad.” King lifts his chin, making eye contact with me.
“To you too, man.” I nod to acknowledge him, and everyone wishes him the same. “I want everyone to feel free to bring your presents down and place them around the tree.”
I gesture to the ten-foot spruce that’s twinkling festively in the corner.
“I know there will be a lot, since most of them are for me,” I say with a grin.
Bryan shakes his head.
“War.” Shaina smiles. My sweetness gets me.
“There’s no formal agenda for the morning.” I lay my eyes on my girls, knowing they will likely wake me before the sun rises wanting to open their presents.
Harmony’s eyes, which are mostly brown with little flecks of peridot green, twinkle brighter than the tree. Peace’s eyes are brown like mine with just a hint of gold near the rims.
But Peace isn’t looking at me. Her gaze is moving back and forth over the page. When she reads, no one else exists, because she’s been transported to another world. She is as absorbed in her story as Hope is with her phone.
“I’m making homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast,” Shaina says to everyone.
“Thank you, sweetness.” I nod approvingly. “Love those.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiles softly, and I think about kissing those sexy pink lips of hers. Again. And again. Preferably with her naked.
“But before we have dinner,” I tell everyone, “the band is going into the studio to get some work done.”
“What?” King glowers at me.
I would be intimidated, given that he’s huge, but I’m the leader of this band of misfits, and the former ruler of all the losers in Southside. I’m not intimidated by him or anyone else.
“On Christmas Eve?” Sager shakes his head at me. “No way.”
Dizzy releases April and shoots me the double bird with both hands.
“I’m in.” Bryan throws in his support for me, which probably has less to do with our longstanding friendship and more to do with the fact that he is always in the mood to shred his guitar.
“Hear me out.” I raise my hands in mock surrender like I did with Bo earlier. The silver rings on my fingers glisten, reflecting the flames from the nearby roaring fire. “There’s something you should know.”
“What?” King’s tawny eyes narrow.
“They’re saying rock music is dead,” I say seriously.
“Who’s saying that?” Dizzy pops a skeptical brow. The shiny silver surface of the hoop in it is like a mirror for the twinkling lights from the tree.
“Guitar Universe.Rolling Rock.” I count on my fingers. “Who’s Who in Music. All those prominent but nerdy motherfucking publications with writers working for them who think they can sit behind their computer screens and know everything about music.”
