Page 35 of Flawless Aria

“It’s too early for wine. Do you have any coffee liqueur? We could disguise it in our coffee, and I sure could use one. Hey, grab a notebook and pen. We’ll just jot down a few things that you want on a piece of paper. Then you can give it to them and everyone’s happy.”

“Oh, that might work.” Searching through my cabinets, I find what she wants. “Voilà, I knew I had some hidden somewhere.” I make a few cups of coffee, and we indulge in a touch or more of the good stuff.

With coffee, paper, and pen in hand, we sit at the island. And for the next few hours, I get lost planning my wedding with my best friend. Picking out several venues, invitations, flowers and catering companies. I make sure to choose four or five of my favorites in case they’re booked when Jax and I pick a date.

“I might be a little tipsy and a whole lot of hungry. Are you hungry?” I ask, setting down my pen.

“I’m not sure if I’m hungry or in need of a nap.” Macy and I giggle like a bunch of teenagers at a slumber party.

Opening up my cabinets, I grab the trail mix, dried fruit, dark chocolate, and popcorn. Not a bad haul. After popping a few bags, I throw it in a bowl and we carry all the goodies into the living room. Sitting on the floor, we start devouring everything in sight while drinking our second cup of delish coffee. We’re oblivious when Jax walks in.

“Aria. Hey, you okay? Macy? You look like a bunch of stoners. Aria, what are you drinking?” I totally ignore him while he runs in the kitchen. He laughs hysterically when he walks out holding a coffee pod. “Where did you find the CBD-infused coffee pods, poppet?”

What the eff?

21

May

JAXON

Mom’s been homefor a few weeks. She’s doing really well, and it sets my mind at ease. It’s one less thing I’ll need to worry about when I go on tour. Aria on the other hand, I’m not so sure. After her little episode with Macy, she’s been too quiet. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but I think she’s itching to get back to work. Working from home was great in the beginning, but the newness has worn off. She’s supposed to come over for dinner, so I’m going to try coaxing it out of her. It won’t be with a coffee pod. I threw those damn things away. She admitted she bought them by mistake and ran out of her regular coffee.

Now that we’re two months out from going on tour, we’ve been doing a ton of public relations. Interviews, guest appearances, and we’re scheduled for two music videos. All in the next few months. And we need to fit in some practice time as well. Zander loves to jam for a few hours a day when we can to perfect the new songs and revisit the old.

Oh, and Harmony is supposed to help us with our album cover again. It was a no-brainer since she did an amazing job last time. I’m exhausted just thinking about everything we need to do. And I’d love to spend more time with my girl before leaving.

I made lasagna earlier in the day, so all I need to do is pop it in the oven so it’s ready when she gets here. Then I’ll put the garlic bread in the oven as soon as she walks in. Aria’s bringing a salad because I hate washing, chopping, and tossing the damn thing together. I’d just buy the bagged variety and call it a day. Dessert is already covered since Mom sent over some brownies. She’s bored since coming home, so she’s been baking up a storm. I’m not complaining.

Ten minutes later, the lasagna’s baking, the table’s set, and the wine is chilling, so I kick back and check my text messages. When I notice the date on my phone, I smile. Today marks four months since I asked Aria to marry me. It might have been fake back then, but it’s not fake anymore. We are a legit couple, and I can’t wait until the day she becomes my wife. If it were up to me, I’d elope tomorrow. Of course if we did that, our parents would kill us. That would def put a damper on the honeymoon.

The second the doorbell rings, I jump up to open the door. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m here early.” What kind of crazy question is that?

“Baby, if I had my way you’d never leave. Maybe I should slap those cuffs on you and chain you to my bed. How’s that sound?” I don’t give her a chance to answer by claiming her mouth.

I’m instantly hard when her hands land on my chest. Until those hands send me flying. “It’s the twenty-first century and no one is chaining me to any bed.” O-kay.

“It was a joke, Aria. No way I’d ever tie you down, but would it be so bad to go to sleep and wake up together?” Unless she plans on sleeping in another room once we get married, it kind of goes hand in hand.

“Mm, that lasagna smells amazing. I’ve heard through the grapevine that you Rebel Riot boys sure can cook. Good thing, because us women don’t want to be chained to a stove either.” What is up with this girl today? Is she having second thoughts about getting married?

“I have no intention of using any chains on you. Mind telling me what’s really on your mind?” Could be why she’s here a tad early.

“Sorry. I’m being a bitch. Again. I had an interview with someone today and it was pure hell. The biggest male chauvinist on the planet. The mention of handcuffs and chains, well, it was like a bucket of ice water. Triggering how irritated I was after I ended the interview.”

“Unfortunately, some men are still stuck in the fifties. They expect their women to stay home to cook and clean and be at their beck and call. I have a ton of respect for women who stay home to take care of their families. Hats off to them. They have demanding jobs and are highly underpaid. Don’t let the asshole ruin your day.”

“You know a glass of wine might make it all better.” Oh, and batting those long lashes at me might work too.

“Coming right up.” After pouring us each a glass, I hand her one and we both sit together. One sip of the fruity red and she sighs. It’s the little things in life. “I was going to make a toast since it’s our four-month anniversary, but it’s too late. You sipped.”

A deep, throaty laugh expels from her lungs and damn if my cock doesn’t stand at attention. “I can’t believe you remembered. How sweet.” When she leans her head on my shoulder, I kiss her crown.

“What’s not to remember? It was an eventful night.” I’ve no doubt she’s playing it all out in her head. I know I am.

Our quiet moment is rudely interrupted by the incessant sound of the buzzer. “Food’s ready. I need to pop in the bread real quick.” She follows me into the kitchen, and as soon as I take the lasagna out of the oven, she squeals.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” I’ve been totally paranoid ever since Mom had her stroke. Striding over, I start examining her.

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