Page 49 of One Last Verse

I felt a rush of closeness as his hand skimmed over my waist. The fabric of the silk dress I’d picked specifically for him felt like armor. A bulletproof vest designed to prevent me from the full effect of his touch.

“I don’t think you should.” My gaze continued to inspect the decorations hung from the tree in thick bunches of semi-ellipses as I let my bag slip to the floor. “I know you feel like you’ve been wronged, and yes, you have, but I don’t think it’s going to bring your health back. What this lawsuit will do is give you an extra headache.”

There was a pause, then Frank’s hand popped in front of my face. He was holding a small box with a red bow.

My heart skipped a beat. “What’s this?”

“Your Christmas present.” He pushed my hair aside, and his mouth dropped to the nape of my neck, his lips tracing a ticklish trail over my skin.

Goosebumps puckered my flesh. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Maybe.”

I opened the box. Inside lay a bracelet. It was delicate and exquisite and matched the chain of the diamond solitaire necklace Frank gave me several months ago.

“Nice try, rockstar.” I grinned.

“I do value your advice, doll, but can we continue the serious conversation after dinner?” Frank’s lips returned to my neck.

“You’re taking them to court on principle,” I continued, needing to voice everything I had on my mind. “While your band will be gearing up for a tour with a new singer, you’ll be wasting time you could be spending writing new music and money you could be using for something useful on a pointless lawsuit that will probably drain you emotionally and end in a typical anticlimactic matter. A settlement in exchange for a promise to never try to bark at the label again.”

I was glad a tiny glass Santa Claus that hung from the tree was on the receiving end of my speech. Crumbling from the effect of my words, he tore his mouth from my neck and drew me closer.

“It’s not worth your effort,” I explained. “You’re so much better than this. You and Isabella have incredible musical chemistry. Record the single. Let the world hear you. Fuck everyone else.”

He responded with grim silence.

I put the bracelet back in the box and slid it into my pocket. “I know you probably think I’m pushing for your collaboration so hard because she’s my artist and I want to jump start her career. I do and you can help her with that, but I wouldn’t tell you any of this if you two were shit together. You aren’t. You’re going to break so many fucking hearts with your music, you have no idea.”

He spun me around. We were face to face now, mere inches between our bodies. He looked radiant in his vulnerability. His eyes dazzled in the ever-changing lights of the Christmas tree.

“All I’m hearing isfucking, and we haven’t done any in weeks.” A smirk cut through his cheek. “How about we fix that problem first?”

“I thought you wanted to start with dinner?”

“I changed my mind. You turn me on when you talk business.”

“Asshole.” I cupped his chin and pulled him to meet my lips. A ghost of a moan left his throat. He sunk his hand in my hair. I’d forgotten how much I loved the feel of his tongue in my mouth, how much I loved the hard press of his chest against my softness, how much I loved his deft hands roaming my curves.

The kiss was a lingering flame. A gentle flutter of a lost butterfly. The final swirl of a fall leaf. Each flick of our tongues and each pull of our lips burned so hard, my lungs struggled to breathe.

Frank smiled lazily against my mouth. And that split second, when he grinned like a kid, felt as if all the rainbow colors burst inside my chest.

“I missed you,” I said, pulling away for a second to drink him in.

“I missed you too, doll.” He cradled the back of my head. “I hate that we fought.”

“That’s what couples do.”

“Screw other couples.” His lips came down on mine fiercely. For a man who’d recently had two surgeries and had only one functioning shoulder, Frank was pretty persistent. He licked every corner of my mouth and inspected every fold of my dress. I didn’t mind. On the contrary, I reciprocated. My small hands slid over his hard lines, eager. He’d lost weight and rigor, but his body was still lean, toned, and beautiful. With all its ink and scars. With all its pain and grace.

Our feet fumbled across the room in a slow, delicious dance. We kissed as if we hadn’t seen each other in a thousand years.

“I want to be inside you so bad,” he mumbled against my cheek deliriously, pulling me to his chest. “Right now.”

“What about your parents?”

“They went to Catalina. They won’t be back until tomorrow evening.”

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