Page 53 of It's Holy Matrimony, Baby

“What do you think?”

“Hmmm. Coincidence. Or a bad decision on my part. Or the driver wasn’t paying attention. There are plenty of reasons that don’t have to involve my family’s belief in bad luck.”

She can tell me as many times as she wants that she doesn’t believe in anything that can’t be proven, but she’s not good at hiding the truth. I brush my lips against her cheek, her temple, the hair that covers the scar on her scalp. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too,” she says. “Not just alive, but here with you.”

I’ll fight to keep her here. I’ll fight her fears and her insecurities. I’ll fight the damn devil if that’s what it takes. Can’t let her down, or I’ll lose her for certain.

“You give me hope,” she says. “That maybe we can be different. But not just that. You’re a good man, Nox. You’re the kind of man who won’t let me down, and that’s rare. You sticking with me although I ran away, and fighting me when I tried to scare you off like a crazy lunatic means a lot.”

Her words sucker punch me in the gut. I’m hiding too much from her. The fact that our marriage has already saved my dad’s studio doesn’t look good, and when she finds out about my deal with Liv she’ll realize my motivation wasn’t her. Or at least it wasn’t when she first showed up in town. Can’t hate that I would do anything for my family. I need this deal as much as I’m starting to believe I might need her. But she’s still tentative. Telling her I’m not as great as she imagines me to be, and that the real reason I refused to sign the papers despite her best efforts could cost me more than I ever expected. Have to work out how to break it to her. But not right now. Not while she’s cradled in my arms. Haven’t been this happy in as long as I can remember. She makes me feel ten feet tall. I can’t let her go.

I roll her under me. Cover her body with mine and nibble her bottom lip. “For better or worse, right? You and me. I’m going to be here no matter what.”

“Do you ever miss it?” she asks while we drive into town. Jack messaged me while we were still in bed to tell me we were having a family dinner.

“Miss what?” I scratch at my throat. It’s been ages since the lot of us have sat down to break bread. We’ve all been too busy. But this is different again. It’s the first time Beck’s really going to meet my siblings and spend time with them. Liv might be there too.

“Music.” She points at the radio. An old Pearl Jam song pipes through the speakers. The song about his love dying in a car accident, and if that isn’t fitting today, I don’t know what is. Twisting to face me, she continues, “Playing guitar? Singing? Do you miss it?”

“No.” Swear to God I’m about to break out in hives. Everyone at this dinner knows about my deal with Liv. One slip of the tongue before I can work out how to tell Beck myself could ruin everything.

“Not even a little bit?” She turns to me, curiosity all over her face. “You teach guitar, but you don’t want to play?”

“I’m not that guy.” I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles pop. Music was everything to me, but I ruined it. Took the good parts of my life and destroyed them. Hollowed myself out until there was nothing left. Can’t let that happen with her. “I haven’t been in years.”

“I couldn’t imagine having so much talent and not using it. Doesn’t it scare you?” she asks, becoming more pointed. “That you might regret it.”

“You’re nosey,” I say, faking a smile to soften my words, but hoping she’ll get annoyed at me anyway if only to change the subject.

She stares at me, a frown wrinkling her forehead. “I’m trying to understand. You were an amazing musician. You could be again.”

“You want to understand? Fine.” I clench my jaw and scratch at my throat again. Sweat trickles down the side of my neck. “Being Jase Hunt and that lifestyle, the one where I go off the tracks and fuck everything up, go hand in hand. I spent a lot of time getting better. Fought myself damn hard to put it behind me. Why would I want to open myself up to that again?”

“I wasn’t suggesting you—”

“You were,” I growl. Immediately I want to take it back. “Sorry. It’s a touchy subject for me.”

“I’m sorry too,” she says, turning her gaze to the passenger window and growing silent as we drive toward Finn and Jack’s place.

I puff up my cheeks and blow out a breath as I place my hand on her knee. My pulse slows down when I touch her. “Sometimes I miss the music. Not the fame or the groupies or playing sold out concerts, but the work behind it. The writing and messing around with chords and progressions, tinkering with melodies and tempos until they’re perfect. But Jase Hunt was an asshole. An addict. A danger to everyone around him. I don’t want to be like that. I can’t be like that. Ever again.”

“You don’t have to be though. You’re right when you say you’re not that guy anymore, and I’m not suggesting you should be. But you are Nox Casey, and music is in your blood. It runs through your veins, doesn’t it? Pulls you in whether you like it or not. If you hated it you wouldn’t end up at Mayhem supporting Dean, or the local bands that Lou brings in.”

“That’s enough for me,” I tell her. It has to be. Even if these past couple weeks I’ve found myself pulling fragments of words and melodies together in my head. But that’s where they should stay. That isn’t my road to travel now. “Managing Casey Records once we get it up and running again is what I want. That’s more important. My family. Dad’s legacy is more important to me.”

“I’m just suggesting that you don’t have to cut something you love out of your life so completely.”

We pull into the driveway of my brother’s house. Lena used to tell me all the damn time that going back to music, touring, the constant spotlight was asking for trouble. That I couldn’t be that guy, and the man she wanted to be with. I did what she asked and stayed the hell away because going back was opening a door that I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to close.

Beck has faith in me. Misplaced, misguided faith that will crumble soon enough. Can’t work out how to deal with that let alone my own demons if I give into the temptation she puts in front of me.

“I don’t love it. I don’t want to do it.” I climb out of the truck. “It’s not important to me.”

“I don’t believe you.” She goes quiet as I turn to glare at her. Her gaze drops to the ground in front of her feet and her arms go around her waist as though trying to ward off a chill.

“Do you want me to fail? Is that why you’re pushing this? You want me to go back to shoving pills down my throat and needles in my veins?” I crowd her against the side of the truck. Can’t catch my breath. This morning I thought we could make this work, but now... “Is that how you’re hoping to get rid of me?”

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