“We have five sets of overnight houseguests. Ten bedrooms. Two kids.”
“Right?”
“How far away can we get from all of them? Because you look hot as fuck in that dress.” His expression steals my breath. He moves closer, his hard mouth brushing mine once, twice.
I cut a look toward the living room, where everyone’s engrossed in warm conversation with drinks and appetizers in hand.
“Dinner has to reheat for at least thirty more minutes. I think we could steal a few minutes first.”
Jax takes my hand, and I follow him up the stairs.
Chapter Five
Tyler
“You seen Annie?” I ask Beck over the rim of the bourbon Jax insisted on pouring everyone after we returned.
“Not sure.”
I look around the living room, which is buzzing with conversation and holiday music from the built-in speakers. Everyone here is family. Haley, who disappeared to the kitchen a few minutes ago, was one of the first people who worked with me when I started recording through a program for kids from tough backgrounds.
Jax, who seems to have vanished too, took an interest later when he saw how talented I was. His band, standing around and cracking jokes and reminiscing, ended up being like uncles to me.
Even Haley’s friends are mine. Literally. Serena’s brother, Beck, was my roommate at performing arts school, then later in LA after he graduated and started his career as an actor while I was finishing my first world tour.
Annie’s been my friend since we were teenagers. She sees light in the darkest places. Hell, she saw it in me.
My adventure with Jax and Sophie this afternoon reminded me of that. When the truck skidded off the road and onto the shoulder—the flatbed wound up halfway in the ditch and was ultimately stopped from going the whole way in by the tree—all I could think about was her. That she was here, waiting for me. That I’d do anything to get back to her and give her everything she wanted.
An impulse tugs at my stomach, and I glance toward the back of the house. I down the rest of my drink, then head through the kitchen to the patio doors. I slide them open and step outside, a wave of nostalgia and familiarity hitting me along with the cool air.
The patio is vast and stunning, with a pool surrounded by gardens and the pool house-turned-recording studio. Before it was a studio, I spent a semester living there and attending the same private high school as Annie when home became unbearable.
I cut a look back over my shoulder toward the house, the room that was hers.
I grew up here.
I fell in love here.
And no matter what’s changed in my life or in the pool house, I’ll never forget it.
When I let myself into the small building, there’s a single light on in the hall. My eyes adjust to the darkness.
“Annie?” I call.
I make my way through, glancing in the offices, including the one I occupied for a month last summer. I spent the odd day there this fall when I flew here to record with Jax on my new album.
Plenty of memories.
No Annie.
I head for the main doors of the studio and out to the small parking lot accessible by a parallel driveway installed next to the main one running up to Jax’s house. It has a separate pin pad by the road so the studio’s entrance is almost as exclusive as the house’s, only letting in the small group of artists Jax works with, the up-and-coming ones he’s mentoring to the kind of greatness he reached. The kind I’m reaching.
Out in the parking lot, I find what I’m looking for.
There are no cars, but there is a giant tarp covering something waist height and longer than I am tall. Sitting on the gravel staring up at it is my fiancée.
“Hey,” I say softly. “You okay?”
Annie spins and looks up at me, her lips parting in shock, then relief. “You’re back.”
She jumps up. A second later, the impact of her body against mine knocks the breath from my chest. I grab her and hold her tightly.
“What happened?” she murmurs against my shoulder. “We were so worried.”
I pull back an inch to look down into her flushed face. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
I explain what happened, and she listens, her face turning pale.
She says, “I had this moment when I couldn’t reach you, and it’s crazy because there are lot of times I can’t reach you, but this scared me. I thought, what if something awful happened and I don’t get to see you again? I don’t know how to do this without you.”
Her emotion wraps me up and drags me along with it. I stroke my knuckles gently down her cheek, loving her softness as much as I love her strength. “It didn’t happen, Six. But if it did, you’d get by.”
“I remember what my world was like before you were in it. It sucked.” She’s joking but earnest too.
“I thought about that too,” I admit. “I can’t control how long I’m here, but every second I am, I want to spend it with you.”
Annie threads her fingers in my hair. Her fingers are cold, and suddenly, I’m questioning how long she’s been out here. But we stand like that, holding each other, until a breeze rustles the plastic behind her.
I can’t resist asking, “What’s under the tarp?”
Her eyes widen a flash of guilt. “Nothing.”
I trace my finger along the full curve of her lower lip, intrigued. “Don’t believe you,” I tease. “You bailed on everyone inside on Christmas Eve to spend quality time with a tarp? Must be protecting something good.”
She exhales hard, shooting me a look before turning. Starting at one end, she strips the tarp back a few feet at a time, eventually pushing it entirely to the ground.
What’s underneath leaves me breathless. Speechless.
“It’s a Triumph Bonneville,” she murmurs.
I circle it, eyeing up every inch of steel. “Nineteen sixty-two.”
“Sixty-one. It took me a while to find, and it needs a little love. You sold your bike when we moved to New York. I wanted you to have one. I talked to the garage owner nearby. He has some space where you could work on it if you have time to fix it up.”
My chest is so tight it feels as if my heart is too big. The fact that she managed to find this for me, without me knowing, and that she knew I’d want one I could work on myself reminds me how fucking special this girl is.
“How do you know me?” I breathe the words.
Her smile in the dark warms me, her eyes shining. “Life’s been crazy this year. I wanted you to have something that reminded you of who you are, who you were before everything.”
It does. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to work on an engine, but as I stroke a hand over the seat, I can’t wait to work on this. “When I’m done, I can’t wait to take you on this.”
I swoop in and grab her, kissing her hard before she can react. She laughs against my mouth, her hands fisting my shirt as she gets her balance, kissing me back.
“Needs to run first,” she replies breathlessly when we come up for air.
“Untrue.” Her eyes darken, and my gut twists with need for her. “I love how you feel. I love all of you, Annie Jamieson.”
I thread my fingers through hers. The ring I gave her presses into my hand. I don’t need physical evidence of the bond between us, but I like it.