Everything: A Singed Wings Novel (33 page)

He grinned so big his eyes crinkled up on the sides. “So the song was good?”

“Better than good, rockstar.” I kissed him harder this time, moaning into his mouth, “Always better than good.”

“
NO PEEKING!” I
warned, as I helped Belle out of the car, her eyes hidden from the silk blindfold I tied around her head before we left our hotel.

There was a good chance she knew where I was taking her, but I didn’t care. Most of the fun was in watching her get antsy as we drove around the Argentine capital, not being able to see where we were going exactly. She begged me all morning to tell her what I planned for the day, but I refused, saying she’d just have to wait and see.

It was the night after our second sold-out show in Buenos Aires, and once we played Rio tomorrow night and the next, Singed Wings first tour would officially be over. Though, there wouldn’t be much downtime before Ashlynn and I were due in the studio to finish recording our debut full-length album that was scheduled to release right before tour number two.

“If we’re here, can’t I take it off now?” Belle asked, keeping a firm grip on my hand as I led her up the couple of stairs and into
i Latina
restaurant.

“Almost, beautiful,” I whispered in her ear, then nodded at the two bodyguards I traveled with pretty much all the time now, letting them know I could take it from here.

They moved to stand guard at the door, ensuring no passersby tried to walk in, as I’d rented out the entire place for the special occasion. I loved and appreciated my fans dearly, usually never minding stopping to sign autographs or take photos. My dad had always preached to me and my sister to stay humble; if it weren’t for the fans watching us on YouTube, buying our merchandise, and going to our shows, there would be no albums or second tours or anything else I hoped to accomplish in the music industry.

But today… today I wanted it to just be about me and Belle. She was forced to share me with everyone else pretty much a hundred percent of the time, and it was time I showed her how much I loved and appreciated
her.
Like nobody else. She was my one. My only one. And I wanted the rest of the world to know it too.

Thinking back to that June night I saw her at the first show in LA, when she came running to me up on stage, after I’d sung “Singed and Broken” for the first time, I thought I was hallucinating. I had no idea Dad had sent her a ticket and asked her to come, and more than anything, I was glad she took him up on his offer. As soon as we disappeared backstage, I spent the entire night apologizing for everything I’d done — the incorrect assumptions, the mean and hateful words, leaving her alone to deal with the Jonah situation, never going back to class, all of it. I told her I was sorry with my words, and then I showed her with my actions, making sweet love to her until the sun rose the following morning… then showing her yet again.

It didn’t take much to convince her to go on tour with me over the summer, and when the time drew near for her to return to Houston to start her new teaching position at the junior college, I’d pretty much begged and pleaded for a week straight until she finally gave in. By that point though, I knew she didn’t want to be away from me anymore than I wanted to from her.

And all of that led us to this moment — me guiding her, blindfolded, to a table in the restaurant, where we sat less than a year ago and I prepared to tell her that I loved her for the first time. What I had to tell her today, though, was going to blow that out of the water.

Finally, ready to unveil her eyes, I untied the scarf and then stepped back a couple of feet to gage her reaction. A smile broke out on her face so wide it stretched from ear to ear and sparkled in her big brown eyes.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet, then wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed me tight. “I was going to be upset if we didn’t come back here before we left. This was like the best meal ever.”

Nodding, I pulled her chair out for her to sit down then slid onto my own seat across from her. “I figured you knew, but blindfolding you was fun. I liked watching you squirm.”

“You always like watching me squirm,” she purred impishly, while looking me up and down like
I
was what was for lunch.

“Careful, Tink, or Peter’s gonna come out and expect you to make him fly.” I chuckled, adjusting the growing bulge in my jeans.

She laughed and playfully rolled her eyes at me as the server brought us a bottle of mineral water and a glass of white wine each, letting us know he’d be right back with our first course. “You act like this is something new.” She smirked. “Your ‘Peter’ always wants to fly.”

Groaning, I leaned forward and rested my forearms on the table. “Unless you’re curious about sex in public, beautiful, I think you better stop now. Because I’m about this close,” I warned under my breath, while holding up my pointer finger and thumb nearly pinched together, “from bending you over this table and ruining my meal by having my dessert first.”

Her eyes grew wide and pink splotches painted her cheeks, but the guy returned and set a plate in front of each of us before she could respond. And once she saw the dish was peanut butter and banana empanadas, as per my special request, the conversation swung to us talking about all of the different foods we’d tried while on tour and the places we wanted to revisit someday.

Much like the first time we’d eaten there, Belle and I left
i Latina
with full stomachs and huge smiles on our faces, and before we got inside the car to our next destination, I pulled her in for a sweet but passionate kiss, and whispered, “Next time I eat dessert, you’re wearing that blindfold.”

She shivered in my embrace at the thought and her lips curled up in a mischievous smirk. “Are you still hungry, rockstar? We can go back to the hotel if you want.”

I growled as my cock twitched; he voted for dessert in bed, but I was not about to let her and him thwart my plans. “Later, baby, but get ready to squirm like you never have before, for trying to make me hard in public. Now get in,” I said, lightly swatting her ass.

The ride to the museum was short, and as we strolled up to the main entrance, I smiled politely at the few people who recognized me. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter how much money you had; national museums wouldn’t close to the public like restaurants would, so the second part of our day would be done with an audience. Though, I didn’t care who saw or heard what I was about to do.

Anxious and a little bit nervous, I didn’t bother pretending we were there to look at anything but the Manet, so I led her directly to the painting, thankfully still on display in the same place it was the last time we were there. My palms grew clammy as we stopped in front of the piece of art and I glanced around to make sure the photographer I’d hired was in place. He was, and both of the security guys had flanked either side of us, which I had asked them to do beforehand.

“Well, here we are again,” she tittered with a grin. “You, me, Eduoard, and his nymph. Just like old times.”

Clearing my throat, I turned to her and reached out to take both of her hands in mine. “Belle, the last time we stood in this exact place, you made me the happiest guy on the planet when you told me you loved me. I didn’t think anything could get better than what we shared that day,” I admitted with a sheepish smile. “I know shortly after that things got all screwed up, and I swear to you that I’ll never turn my back on you again like I did then.”

“Aww, Everett, you don’t need to apologize again,” she said with a quick shake of her head. “I forgave you a long time ago. You know that.”

“I do,” I nodded, “and not a day goes by that I don’t realize how lucky I am that you did. The last nine months with you have been beyond my wildest dreams, and I know it’s not always easy on you when I’m constantly surrounded by people trying to get a piece of me. I love making music, and I plan on doing this for quite some time, but no matter how much happiness that brings me, it doesn’t hold a candle to the feeling I have at the end of each day when I crawl into bed with you and hold you close to me, knowing you’re mine and I’m yours.”

Pausing, I released one of her hands and dug into my pocket for the ring that had been searing my skin through the cotton all day. I was dying to put it on her finger.

“I know we’re both still young and have most of our lives ahead of us, but I don’t want to do it without you,” I said, as I pulled the three-carat solitaire diamond out and dropped to my knee. “It doesn’t have to be tomorrow, or even next year, but one day, whenever you’re ready, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Big, raindrop-sized tears welled up in her eyes and slowly rolled down her cheeks as she lifted her trembling hands to her face and nodded. “Yes, of course,” she wept, as onlookers began clapping and camera flashes went off all around us.

Rapidly springing to my feet, I slid the ring on her finger then lifted her off the floor and into my arms, kissing her like we were the only two people there. Because as far as I was concerned, there was no one for me but her. My fiancée.

After I finally set her back down and the crowd around us dispersed, I looped my arms around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “All I ask is you don’t make me wait ten years to say ‘I do’ like Suzanne did to Edoaurd. I’m not sure I can take that.”

Laughing hard, she twisted to face me and reached up to cup my face. “I promise, rockstar.”

EACH OF THE BOOKS
that I write is like one of my children and these people are the village that helps me raise them. Thank you all so much for everything you do and all of your support.

My kick-ass family

Jill Sava ~ the best assistant and friend in the whole wide world. You are my Bright Side. Always.

Stacy Kestwick ~ my incredible CP and bestie

Chelle Northcutt ~ for always being there, no matter what. And for giving me Bug.

Hang Le ~ 16 Kids & Counting… watch out Duggars

Masta betas ~ this one’s for you

Jammy Jean Lovers ~ ‘Cause y’all are just fucking awesome

Kayla Robichaux ~ My awesome editor and Twinnie. I’ll die owing you big time.

Jenn Van Wyk ~ I still don’t know how we did it, but thank you so much!

Monica Robinson ~ You complete me.

Jessica Prince ~ I’m the worst work-wife ever and yet, you still love me.

CM Foss ~ You came before I did.

Michelle Tan ~ for the music and the muses and encouraging me the entire time

Kristie Wittenberg ~ you’re like my own personal DJ

Natasha ~ This book is not about your son.

Ever Afters ~ the most amazing reader group ever; thank you for your support

BSers ~ for a bunch of assholes, I guess y’all are okay.

Lisa with TRSOR ~ thank you for making this part after writing so painless

Bloggers ~ The hardest working people in the business that get little credit and no pay. I greatly appreciate the time you spend reading, reviewing, and/or promoting the books we authors pour our heart and soul into. We couldn’t do it without you.

Readers ~ I have the most fantastic readers imaginable. You’re the main reason I continue doing this! Love you all!