Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 72828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“You ready?”
I take a deep breath, looking out at the dozens of people watching us, all of them here because they belong to this amazing family, and nod.
“Ready.”
I’ve sung for politicians, movie stars, and royalty.
But I’ve never been as nervous as I am right now.
But then I see my brother smiling at me, Stella snuggled up to his side, and everything in me calms.
These are my people.
Leo plays the intro on his guitar, Keaton and Hudson join in, and the next thing I know, I’m singing my song with these men backing me up, who clearly know the song very well.
How is this even possible?
After the first thirty minutes of playing a mix of mine, Leo’s, Brax’s, and even freaking Starla’s music, Leo decides he’s too hot and strips out of his black T-shirt, exposing those tattooed stars on his hips that have been front and center of many a fantasy of mine for years.
Holy shit.
My gaze catches Stella’s, and she’s laughing at me, as if she can read my mind.
And I can’t help but laugh with her.
“Come on up here, Meg,” Leo says into the mic. He grins when he sees Meg walking through the crowd to the small stage. “Hey there, Meg Pie.”
“Hi.” Meg grins and picks up a mic. “You guys sound great tonight.”
“With this crew? We can’t go wrong. What do you want to sing?” Leo asks her.
“Let’s go with an oldie. How about ‘Kiss Me Slowly’?”
“Let’s do it.”
I drift off to the side and just listen. They don’t need my harmony as they sing the song flawlessly, their voices meshing so perfectly, it almost makes a person want to cry.
“Why don’t you sing together all the time?” I ask when the song is over.
“We used to,” Meg says with a grin. “But then I went to nursing school, and Leo went off and got famous without me.”
“Let’s not start that again,” Leo says, shaking his head.
“He gets touchy,” Meg says with a laugh. “Okay, you guys keep going. I’m only good for one song these days.”
She waves and walks back over to her husband, the former football superstar Will Montgomery, and he just picks her right up and kisses the hell out of her.
This family fascinates me.
“Let’s hear another one of Sidney’s songs,” someone calls out.
“Come on, you’re not done yet,” Leo says with a grin. “Are you having fun?”
“I don’t know when I’ve ever had more fun in my life.”
“Good.”
“I don’t remember the last time I was this revved up about music.” Keaton’s driving us back to my condo, his Bronco gliding smoothly on the freeway in the dark, and I can’t stop moving in my seat. “I know that sounds crazy because music is my whole job, but, man, I feel like I could go home and write about a million songs tonight.”
“It was fun,” he agrees and reaches over to take my hand, lifting it to his lips. “You’re damn talented, Sid.”
“Me?” I giggle and pull his hand to my lips. “You shocked the hell out of me with your keyboard skills. How do you know all my songs? And all the other ones you played tonight?”
“I didn’t know them,” he admits with a shrug. “Not really. I mean, I know your music, but I’ve never played them before.”
“What are you, some kind of savant?”
He doesn’t answer as he takes the exit off the freeway toward my building.
“Seriously, Keaton.”
“I have a knack,” he says at last. “I wanted to learn martial arts when I was a kid, and my mom made me a deal. If she agreed to pay to let me get beat up, I also had to take lessons for an instrument. I chose the piano.”
“How did martial arts go?”
“I’m a black belt in Judo.”
I blink over at him as he parks the Bronco in my space. I don’t have a car, so he can use the one space I’m allowed. It works.
“So, you play the piano like a pro, and you’re a black belt. Like I said, you’re a savant.”
He doesn’t answer me as he exits the vehicle, then walks around and opens my door, holding out a hand to help me out. I learned early on with Keaton that he’s a door opener.
I don’t have a problem with that.
He leads me upstairs and to my door without saying anything.
And when I’ve keyed in the door code and opened it, I pull him inside with me, just in case he’s lost his mind and thinks that he isn’t going to spend the night with me.
“What else can you do?” I demand as I immediately walk into the kitchen and pour us each a glass of wine.
“What do you mean?” he asks, accepting the glass. He sits on the couch, and I curl up on the chair directly across from him so I can see his face while I ask questions.