Page 1 of A Winter's Night with Tempest

War

“You’re late.” I stomp down the stone front steps from my house, the soles of my boots crushing the ice-melting pellets I scattered earlier. Snowflakes part for me. With over fifteen years as lead singer of the biggest band out there, the elements should be mine to command.

“I wasn’t aware I was being timed.” Bryan Jackson exits his Land Rover, plants his boots on my circular driveway, and surveys the place as if he owns the seven-million-dollar house and plot of land on Lake Washington rather than me.

“I’m serious, man,” I say, marching to him.

“Chill, Mr. Scrooge.” He rolls his gray-green eyes. “It’s Christmas at your place, not an appearance at the Grammys.”

“You were supposed to be here an hour ago.” I scowl at my best friend. Closing the distance between us, I’m careful to avoid the patches of snow that have refrozen into ice.

“It’s snowing.” His expression softening, Bryan leans in for the man-hug I give him.

“It’s slowed some.” I slap him on the back. “So, that’s not an excuse.”

“Right, it’s practically a spring thaw.” He slaps me on the back harder than necessary. “Might only get a foot of accumulation today rather than two.”

“Missed you,” I mumble as my chest warms under the thick cable of my cardigan. “Even though you’re a sarcastic asshole.”

I would never be caught dead in such an un-rock ’n’ roll piece of clothing, except that my wife, Shaina Jinkins, bought it for me. I grumbled about putting it on, but I must admit that I am a DILF in it.

“Missed you too.” He straightens. “Even though you’re a pain in my ass.”

“Been a while,” I say.

“Since the last tour over the summer.”

“I was worried about you. The news is reporting a lot of accidents on the roads.”

I glance up as bigger white flakes begin to float down. They melt on contact with his navy beanie and jacket. It won’t be long before they add to the foot of accumulation already on the ground.

“The airport was a nightmare.” He nods, his gaze turning reflective. “The freeway wasn’t so bad, but traffic over the bridge into your neighborhood was absolute shit.”

“I’ll get Lace’s door.” I round the silver hood of their rental SUV.

“Thanks, man.” Bryan goes the opposite way. “I’ll let out my kid.”

“Hey, War.” Lace Jackson smiles up at me after I open her door.

Her wide smile and that sultry voice of hers did all sorts of insane things to me once upon a time, but not anymore. We’re practically family, so close that it still bugs me that she never pursued a musical career of her own. With her pipes, she could have been huge as a solo artist, but she chose a different path, a different guy than me.

Secondary choices in both instances, in my opinion, not that I desire her anymore. Her choosing Bryan led to me meeting and securing my wife. Shaina is my best choice, and I am hers.

“It’s a little icy out here on the driveway,” I say to warn Lace.

Tucking her gloved hand into the crook of my arm, I guide her to the first stone step. Bryan joins us. He has his son with him, who in a navy coat and worn jeans looks like a younger version of his father.

“Thanks, War.” Lace removes her hand from my arm and moves closer to Bryan. “Seems like you’re a gentleman nowadays.” Her golden eyes dance beneath her dark blond brows.

“It’s all for show.” I ignore her ribbing and hook a thumb over my shoulder where Shaina is waiting with the girls. They’re just inside the open door, keeping out of the snow like I told them to.

I shift my attention to Bryan. With it being almost Christmas, I sent all our staff home. For this holiday, it’s going to be just the band and our families.

“Let me help you with the luggage.”

“Thanks, man, appreciate it.” Bryan nods at me and leaves his son with his mother. “Anyone else arrived yet?”

Bryan shoots me a questioning look while pointing his fob at the tailgate. It slowly opens as we approach. There are only two suitcases inside, plus an electric and an acoustic guitar case. I reach for the suitcases, knowing after countless tours not to touch Bryan’s guitars. He is a total pussy about them.

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