Page 123 of Wingwoman
I pinched my fingers around the brim and tugged it off my head, noting how soft and supple the buttered leather was.
It was too much. His gifts were too much, especially now that I knew he was footing the bill for his dad's gambling debt. "Josh–"
"Wait," he interrupted, "there's more."
He held out a small, black velvet box.
“What’s this?” I asked, taking the box from him.
“Just open it,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.
My fingers trembled as I lifted the lid. Inside was a stunning turquoise and pearl necklace. It must have cost a fortune.
“Josh, I can’t accept this. It’s too much,” I protested, my voice a hoarse whisper. I tried to push the box back into his hands.
“It was my mom’s,” he said, his eyes locking with mine. “They both were. Please, I want you to have them.”
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. For the first time since I hatched my little plan with Carrow and Maxie to help Josh out tonight, nerves clenched my stomach. What if he took it the wrong way? What if I was overstepping?
I gulped as he took the necklace from me and fastened it around my neck. I touched the turquoise stone, cool against my skin.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed, turning to face him. Who knew pearls and turquoise would look so damn good together?
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his hand drifting down the ropes of my throat.
"I have one more surprise for you," he said, stepping back.
"Josh, no. You've done enough. No more gifts."
"It's not anything like that," he said, gently sitting me down on the edge of the bed. With a boyish smile, he stepped out to the hallway, and came back in with his guitar slung over his shoulder.
Dragging the trunk a little closer, he perched himself on the edge, balancing the guitar on his knee. "I finished my song," he said.
"You did? The one about your mom?"
"It's about my mom. And sort of about you too."
He strummed the first chord, starting to sing.
The sound of his voice filled the room, sweet and low, transporting me into his world. I closed my eyes as his voice washed over me, surrounding me, each note piercing my soul.
I touched my fingers to the necklace—his mother’s necklace as he sang about her golden hair and cornflower blue eyes, feeling her here with us.
With each strum of his fingers to strings, I fell deeper into him. Like I could almost experience what it was to be that little boy who worshiped his mother. Who wanted to keep her safe from the man he shared half of his DNA with.
The world around us had ceased to exist, and there was only us and the music.
As the final chord rang out, I sat in stunned silence, blinking my eyes open. The lyrics were so raw, so vulnerable, tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
I searched his face, studying the way he pulled his full bottom lip between his teeth. Waiting for my reaction. Waiting for my approval.
I didn't know why it meant so much to him. The way he looked at me, his eyes full of love and longing, made my heart skip a beat.
"That was..." The words choked in my throat. Because there were no words to adequately describe how utterly incredible that song was. "You have to play that tonight at the rodeo.”
He began shaking his head, but I caught his chin gently. “Josh,” I said, urgency in my voice. “Look me in the eyes and tell me your mom wouldn’t have wanted you to play that song?”
His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “She would have claimed to be embarrassed…”
