Page 1 of Perfect Storm

Chapter 1

Adam

Setting my guitar aside, I lean back in the chair and pick up my notepad. The lyrics to the music I’ve been playing are floating around in my head.

My mind has been a whirl of chords and lyrics for the past few weeks, and I keep waking at night to write music. It won’t be the last time, my muse is well and truly alive.

I glance at the clock on the wall, it’s still stupid early. Jenna is going to work today, as usual. Getting her to play hooky is a real chore. I don’t know why I keep trying, she would never call in for no reason.

Thinking of Jenna, I toss the notepad on the table. After setting my guitar on its stand, I leave the soundproofed room and head down the hallway to our bedroom. I lean against the doorway, careful not to make any noise. More recently, she’s sleeping later than normal.

Jenna is a compact sleeper, she rarely strays from her side of the bed, unless I pull her over to me. Which I do, often. She’s on her back, with one arm raised over her head, her elbow poking out of the covers. Her hair is a swirl of dark curls on the pillow. She’s frowning and I wonder if she is dreaming as her nose twitches, making me smile.

It’s been three years since we met. A little under a year since I made her my wife. I still can’t believe she’s mine. I’ve always been a little volatile, and moody at times. Before Jenna, I was mostly single. My lifestyle in a rock band didn’t lend itself to having a steady girlfriend. The image our manager liked us to portray was that of being available. She wanted our fans to believe we were accessible. Being in a steady relationship wasn’t conducive to that image.

Having fame and fortune thrust at you when you’re still a teenager isn’t the best when you’re making life choices. I did nothing excessive or stupid, none of us ever did drugs. Alcohol played a part in some issues over the years, but women were something to pass the time, a release when needed and forgotten within a week. I’m not proud of that behavior, but at least it wasn’t destructive.

I never think about the one serious relationship I was in before Jenna. It didn’t compare. I loved Erica all those years ago and won’t disrespect our time together, but it’s nothing like what I feel for Jenna. I use my thumb to play with the back of my platinum wedding band. It’s a larger version of the one she wears, next to the ‘rock’ I got her when I proposed. It’s a quarter of the size of the one I wanted to get. Thrusting a giant diamond on her finger would have made her uncomfortable.

She still feels guilty about how wealthy I am, but I work hard for it. No one handed me this on a platter. Me and the guys worked solidly from the day we started BreakNeck when we were thirteen.

For years we’ve been donating to charity and taking part in fundraisers. It appeases her, and she is used to the lifestyle now. I want to give her everything and I intend on doing so.

Jenna snuffles and shifts. It’s just after seven, I’d rather she got a little longer in bed before she heads out to work but once she is awake, she’ll be on the go.

One thing I’ll make damn sure of, she will eat a proper breakfast.

I wait until I’m sure she is actually waking before I walk into the room. Her eyes open to slits and she inhales, her hand searching behind her. For me. I grin and walk to her side of the bed. She realizes I’m not behind her and turns, squinting one eye.

“Another song?” she asks.

“Yup.” I crouch down and brush her hair away from her face. She closes her eyes and gives me a smile. “I guess I’ve been inspired.”

“What time is it?” I tell her and she groans. “I have a meeting at eight thirty.”

“Why do you keep making meetings so early?” I ask, shifting so I perch my ass on the bed.

I won’t bother telling her she doesn’t need to work, she’ll only get mad at me.

Jenna took over the literary agency where she works just after our wedding. Izzy was her boss for her entire career. She nurtured and trained her and treats Jenna like the daughter she never had.

When her wife passed away, Izzy retired and sold the agency to Jenna. At a much-reduced price, making Jenna angry. They’d argued for weeks. Eventually, she gave in, but not before Izzy agreed to a higher offer.

As expected, she doesn’t answer my question, stretching her arms up over her head. Her back arches up as she does. I slip the cover down to her waist and lay a hand on her stomach. She recoils at the cold of my palms with a squeal, but I don’t move it.

The sight of my wife, sleep rumpled and naked, never gets old. I lean over and kiss her navel, trailing my tongue to the underside of her breast. They’ve grown, and her breast is heavier against my palm as I tease her nipple. She winces a little, so I retreat with my hand but kiss it softly.

“Sore?”

“Just a little tender.”

I smile and nuzzle the side of it before kissing her collarbone and then her mouth. She will always be sexy to me. In fact, I’m sure I’ll still be chasing her ass to the bedroom when we’re in our eighties.

Right now, especially, she’s fucking beautiful. I stroke her stomach again, she isn’t showing yet. We haven’t told anyone that inside this flat, toned tummy, our baby is growing.

I offer to help her in the shower. Which turns into me feeling her up more than washing her, then putting her palms on the tiles, I sink into her from behind.

Jenna is hornier than normal. I’ve learned from a baby book this is a normal and a more than welcome part of pregnancy.

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