Page 51 of Reckless and Rooted
“Yes.” Gavin stumbles out, nodding his head vigorously. “I won’t say a word that you were here.”
I smile kindly, sweetening the vinegar that Ezra is showing him. “I really appreciate that, Gavin. We’re just trying to keep a low profile for now. I promise, once things settle, your studio will get credit.”
Then I turn to Phil, and we lose ourselves in lyrics and chords and melodies. New ideas spark every few minutes as I jot down notes, losing myself in the music.
I haven’t been able to do this in months. I haven’t had the inspiration towantto do this in a couple of years, only forcing myself when I owed labels my work.
But actually sitting down and giving a shit about what I was jotting down, what I was working on, and the music that was coming to me? That is a feeling I had been missing, and finally, I was feeling it.
I won’t lie that I feel some of the inspiration feels like it is coming from my newly sparked relationship with Jax, from that fire that is igniting into the inferno it should have been the entire time.
Whenever he texts or calls, whenever I consider seeing him again, I feel that familiar giddy sensation swirling in my stomach. And no, it isn’t gas-related to the baby. I checked.
I sigh as we come to a point where we want to run through some lines in the studio. Phil plays through a chord progression, giving me something to sing along to, and I step into the studio, working through what I consider to be the rough draft of the song. Ezra and Phil watch on the other side with Gavin at the board.
Then I open my mouth and sing, letting myself fall into this new sound, into the lyrics that actually mean something to me. I let myself feel every single word, knowing that this stuff is what I’ve been looking for the past few years.
This is the sound I want. This was the message that I want to deliver to my fans. The real me, without any editing.
Without thinking, I take a photo of myself in the studio, holding a sheet of paper over my mouth with the lyrics facing me, and for the first time in months, I post willingly on social media.
I am ready to take control of this brand that grew out of my control.
Which means there are going to have to be changes, that I am going to have to be the one to make them, no matter how hard that is for me.
But I’m not a scared little girl anymore. I’m not worried about how this will affect my brand because it is finally becomingmybrand, not something someone else cooked up for me, but mine.
I finally feel like I can take back control of my life.
Before I can open my own door or Ezra can exit the vehicle, my door swings open wide, and I smile at the sight on the other side of the door.
Jax is standing there, grinning at me with his full cowboy gear on. He has his black felt cowboy hat on, his button-down is peeking under a black canvas jacket, and his jeans and boots look pristine.
“Going dancing?” I ask, eyeing Bottle Grounds behind him where he invited me for dinner and dancing tonight. Well, it is dinner,drinks, and dancing, but I am going to carefully avoid that topic. Just for a little bit longer.
Ezra shows up next to Jax, eyeing the rowdy bar entrance and grimacing. “It seems a little chaotic, Ms. Vogel.”
I give Ezra an impatient look. “It’s been five years, Ez. Please call me Felicity.”
Jax interrupts whatever Ezra was going to argue back. “My sister-in-law is the owner. She’s got a private booth set up for us tonight so we can eat in peace, and there’s a table marked for her security if you feel the need.” Then he turns his gaze to mine, hiseyes full of excitement and hope, and I know that if I look into a mirror, I will see the same thing reflecting in my own. “But if I’m being honest, sir, I’m not going to let her out of my sight.”
I blush at the comment, taking Jax’s hand and making the decision for myself as I slip out of the back seat. I had Ezra run me home really fast so I could slip into a fresh sweater and some jeans. The jeans are currently unbuttoned, given my current predicament, but I don’t think they’ll fall.
“It’ll be fine, Ezra,” I say, patting him on the shoulder and holding in a laugh at the impatient sigh he gives behind my back, shutting my door and locking the SUV.
Jax wraps an arm around me. “You should have brought a coat.”
I snuggle into his side. “I have my reasons for not.” I waggle my brow at him, and he laughs, leaning down toward me, and right there in the middle of the street, the man of my dreams takes my lips with his own for a long, sweet, yet totally not innocent kiss.
And I damn near swoon.
“Jax! Get a room, brother!” I smile against his mouth, feeling his lips curve up with my own, and he pulls away, making me laugh when he flips his brother off.
Stetson waves us over and says, “City! You playing cornhole with us tonight?”
I laugh at Stetson, unable to picture him as anything other than a scrawny little fifteen-year-old. “Maybe later. This guy owes me some food first.”
Jax holds me tight to his side, and I feel Ezra behind me. People stare at him in confusion, probably wondering who he is and why he is so close.
