A Wicked Song - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,71
anyway and just to be clear,” my voice softens, “you matter to me, too. I care about you, too.”
His hand slides under my hair to my neck and he lowers his mouth to mine. “Aria Stradivari, you need to know that I’m too damn selfish to let you go. I’ve decided you don’t get to run.”
“Does this mean you’re going to stop telling me I should?”
“Yes. It does.”
“Thank God.”
His lips curve and he leans in, his lips a whisper from mine, when there’s a knock on the door. “Ms. Alard. I’m waiting.”
At the sound of Mark’s arrogant, demanding voice, we laugh, and Kace kisses me hard and fast. “I’ll kiss you properly at home.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Crystal hugs me when she hears the news of my sale and gloats mercilessly on my behalf to Mark. While I do not think Mark Compton is a man most would dare cross, it becomes clear that Crystal has him wrapped around her finger. And him her. They are in love and I remotely wonder about her being sick before the Riptide event. She was a little secretive about it which is probably just me looking for secrets, because I have so many secrets. It was probably a flu bug.
But could she be pregnant? God, could I? We didn’t use a condom way too soon. We’re still not using condoms. It’s a thought I’m forced to set aside as Crystal has me coordinate the delivery of the bracelet with Ed. Afterward, there is also the visit to the bank in which the staff treats Kace like the rock god that he is, but I’m pretty sure it’s because of the size of his bank account, not his impressive violin. It’s hours later when we head to the apartment where, as promised, Kace most definitely kisses the whole of me and quite properly. Once we’ve pulled on a few items of limited clothing, we decide to do something I haven’t done in a long time. We set aside everything going on around us. We order pizza and watch a movie. We just relax.
Together.
Kace and I wake up on Halloween and work out in his gym. We take turns on the treadmill and weights and I’m stunned by how fast that man runs and how hard he lifts weights, but then, it shouldn’t surprise me at all. It requires extreme discipline to play a violin the way he plays, to be the only real daisy in the wind. And he is. I know why my father called him that. His skill, his devotion to his craft, his way of speaking through his music is without reproach, and yet he’d tell you it is. He isn’t arrogant. He respects his gift and his instrument.
When we’re done with the workout, he proves my point. He dives into his daily practice, which he seems to prefer to do shirtless, which suits me just fine, especially after he’s been pumping weights. While he plays, seducing the morning with his version of Beethoven’s 5th, I start the coffee. I’ve had time to down a full cup, set up my MacBook, and email a few customers about some of the items from the Riptide list, when he sets his violin down. I pour him a cup and we meet at the island where I hand him his coffee, and we claim stools we rotate to face each other.
“I like having you here with me like this,” he says.
I’m charmed by the sincerity in his voice. “I like being here.”
“Good. Keep liking it,” he says, sipping his coffee. “We’re supposed to head over to the bakery about four. They’re giving out free cookies from five to seven and trust me, it’s a madhouse.”
“They do this every year?”
“They did it last year and I wasn’t here, but they sent me photos of the line-up. And this year, we’ll both find out firsthand.”
“I finally get to meet Jerry.”
“Yes, you do. You’ll like him. He’s a good match for Jenny.”
We spend the next two hours just talking about everything under the sun, including that text message, which I still do not believe came from Gio. “I remember exactly who was with me during that trip. I sent the names to Blake yesterday on my way to see Mark.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“And I remember everything about that trip. Gio was actually on a school trip for most of my visit. I think I saw him once. And yes, I told Blake when I gave him the