Between Breaths (The Seattle Sound Series Book 2) Page 15

  “Acoustic?” Hayden asked.

  “Our gig is. I’ve been reworking ‘Sweet Solace’ and ‘Moonshine Eyes.’” Asher tucked Lia’s hair behind her ear.

  They didn’t touch anywhere else, but I could feel the love and lust swirling between them, potent and beautiful.

  I wanted that. Always had. Now I knew whom I wanted to share my love—my life—with. I glanced up at Hayden to see him looking down at me, that look of desire mixed with concern. I wondered if my face held the same look—but for different reasons.

  Chapter 21

  Hayden

  A triumph of rock, the night wasn’t. It was more like a laid-back jam session in a best mate’s really big garage than a gig. Seattleites didn’t have a clue how lucky they were. Three of the biggest names in rock were up on a small stage in the middle of their city having fun riffing off each other. That didn’t happen often. Not like this.

  Learning music on the fly didn’t worry me anymore, but I was nervous about messing up the Supernaturals’ standards. The chord progression wasn’t too tough, but it took us a few songs to hit the timing with confidence.

  The fans were more gracious than I deserved, but Asher, Bill, and I enjoyed pushing the melody and tempo. My fingers flew over the keys and sweat pooled at my lower back, just under the waistband of my jeans.

  I grinned at Asher as I hit a long, complicated series of trills. He laughed as he and Bill let me go, bobbing their heads as I worked through the melody. This was what music was supposed to be. This was the high I missed when I didn’t touch the keys. I finished and Bill segued into a frenetic progression down the fret board. Asher and I caught on and I slid back into a more percussive role.

  Briar stood next to her sister offstage. Lia Dorsey wasn’t what I expected, but, then, neither was Briar. The sisters were deeper, more sensitive than most women I’d met. They also held this well of patience I didn’t understand. At least Briar did. She’d put up with my broodiness. Lia seemed to do the same for Asher, keeping him calm and focused. He was more grounded and happier than the last time I’d seen him.

  Maybe if Briar toured with me, she’d give me the balance I hadn’t known I needed. I met her gaze, mine heating with thoughts of what it’d be like to look at her like this all across the world. We’d sneak out for a few hours, kiss at the top of the Eiffel Tower. I’d dance her along the edge of the Thames.

  We hit the place I could really show my staccato finger work. I leaned into the keys, letting the beat and energy carry me. But I kept my eyes on Briar. Her pale skin flushed, I hoped from the memories of our morning together. I smirked . . . or last night. My grin widened. Really, any of the times we’d been together.

  She wasn’t timid in bed. Or out. I appreciated that. I wanted a woman who knew her body and her mind. Briar knew both, and I’d already learned how to strum her desire, building to a crescendo before backing off for the featherlight touch of pianissmo. My fingers followed my thoughts. Her lips parted as she held my gaze.

  My phone buzzed, but I ignored it. Keeping my focus on the music and Briar.

  She knew what I was thinking, the way I’d play her up, up, up and over into a rich orgasm that ripped a scream from her throat and left her spent and warm. Just right to slide deep inside her. I finished the song with a flourish, smirking at Briar’s shallow breathing.

  My phone buzzed again. I pulled it from my pocket and the smile slid from my face. Local area code. Both missed calls were from the same line. I raised my phone to show Asher I needed to step off the stage. I caught Briar’s eyes, concern replacing the desire that heated them just moments before.

  I didn’t really need to hear the voice mails, but as soon as I was offstage, I forced myself to start with the first. My feet were much surer than my heart as I walked to the dressing room in time to listen to the second message.

  Briar ran into the room, her hair fluttering around her face and shoulders.

  “My mum died. In her sleep.”

  Briar’s fingers touched her lips. “Hayden,” she whispered.

  I tensed when her hand reached out to grab mine. I didn’t want her to touch me, not now. Her eyes filled with hurt when I stepped back. I understood, but I didn’t need her emotion, not with all mine churning in my gut, a terrible cyclone building more and more until it spewed its wrath.

  My mum made her choices. I’d live with them, best I could. Later.

  “I need to get to the center. Sign some documents.”

  “You don’t want to wait until the morning? I think that’s normal procedure.”

  My stomach lurched. “No. I don’t want to wait.”

  “Then I’ll take you.”

  “No,” I said. “You stay here, enjoy the time with your sister.”

  “I’d rather go with you,” she said, voice soft. Not quite pleading.

  I struggled against my need to touch her, wrap myself around her, let her help me through my grief. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and I couldn’t fight it. Not my attraction to her nor the anger and sadness my mum caused.

  “Fuck all.” My voice cracked. Briar burrowed deeper into my body, and I pressed my face against her neck. “I’m not ready.”

  “I know, Hayden. I get it. I’ll be with you the whole way through.”

  My arms slid down her back, gripping her tight. I tipped my head back and blinked, many times, hard. What I was doing to Briar wasn’t fair. I knew it and I couldn’t force myself to let go.

  Chapter 22

  Briar

  “Let me tell Lia the plan. I’ll be back in a sec.”

  He swallowed hard, his jaw tense. His tight rein on his emotions was more frightening than his first attempt to push me away. I’d have to be strong enough not to let him force me out again. Like I knew he wanted to.

  Lia was waiting halfway down the hall for me. She must have followed me back from the stage. “His mom,” I murmured.

  Lia nodded, eyes dimming. “Figured it must be. Is she worse?”

  “Gone,” I said.

  Lia gripped my hand. We stared at each other in that brightly lit hall, the sound of laughter and applause drifting toward us. “How’s Hayden taking it? What can I do for you, sweetie?”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t sure there was anything anyone could do, especially if he succeeded in shutting me out. I pulled Lia into a hug, needing her warmth and support. She stroked my hair, and I let the tears fill my eyes. We’d been here a few times, she and I. She understood how hard it was for me to watch Hayden struggle with his mom’s death. She waited until I was once again in control of my breath.

  “Okay. I’m ready.”

  She brushed the last of my tears from my cheeks. “I’m proud of you, Bri. Not just for what you’re doing for him. Though that’s big.”

  I squeezed her fingers and went to find Hayden. He was staring at the far wall of the backstage room, his eyes unfocused. My fingers brushed his arm and he jumped.

  “Whenever you want to leave.”

  He cocked his head, his gaze cataloguing each of my features. “Thanks for coming with.”

  He’d made no effort to grab my hand, so I reached for his. I wasn’t surprised to find his fingers cold, his palm clammy. “I told you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  His next words were so low I nearly missed them, as if he didn’t mean for me to hear what he said. “It’s all I know.”

  I bit my cheek from the inside, hard. I didn’t want him to see what those words did to me.

  Hayden opened my door, the good manners too ingrained for him not to, even at a time like this. I wanted to kiss him, touch him, anything to thaw the painful barrier he was building around himself.

  Our ride was silent, so like the ride to The Vera Project hours earlier, but heavier. He sat in the passenger’s seat, somewhere between stunned and fuming.

  I tapped the steering wheel. Twenty minutes ago, we’d both been high on desire. Now, I swallowed hard and glanced at Hayden from the corner of my eye. H
e was leaving me emotionally, and I was powerless to stop it.

  I parked in the lot and turned to him.

  “Thank you for being here. With me.” His voice returned to having that formality he used when dealing with people he didn’t know. Exiting the car, he waited for me to join him, his hand trembling a little on my lower back as we headed into the building.

  One of the night-shift nurses let us in, obviously expecting us. “The mortician is on his way,” she said. “If you want to go see Miriam, now’s the time.”

  Outside the door to her room, Hayden dropped my hand; his body tensed. Opening the door would be like opening Pandora’s box. Only worse. There was no hope for reconciliation left inside. In fact, there was nothing.

  As the door shut behind us, I shivered. Hayden gripped my hand as though I was all that was keeping him afloat, pulling me in even closer.

  For the first time, Miriam wasn’t attached to any machines. Her pallid skin was slack, her eyes closed.

  “I didn’t realize the tension there. Around her mouth.” Hayden’s eyes rose to find mine. He held my gaze, his eyes drowning in a sea of uncertainty and pain. A place I couldn’t reach. “I just thought they were wrinkles.”

  My heart twisted at his shattered look. She’d pushed him away, left him alone for years. He shouldn’t feel bad he hadn’t seen all of her pain—she hadn’t bothered to see his. “You came for her. You were here when she needed you.” Even as I said the words, I knew they were platitudes. He dropped his gaze, our connection. I wrapped my arm around my elbow.

  “Mr. Crewe. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  More platitudes, but Hayden nodded at the staffer. I took in the dark, comfortable clothes, hangdog features, dark hair pulled back in a tight bun.

  “She was peaceful. We made sure she didn’t feel any discomfort these last few days.”

  “Be sure to tell Kelly I appreciate her assistance,” Hayden said.

  “Of course. We have the release paperwork for you, when you’re ready,” she said. “I’ll be outside.”

  “Got it. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I stood there, near the door, unsure how to help him. With Hayden, up until this moment, we’d been in synch. Now, he was a beat off my pace, and I stood, frozen, unsure what he needed from me.

  “Give us a moment, Briar. I need . . . this is private.”

  I nodded, though he didn’t see me. I walked out the door, nodding to the staffer who stood across the hall. Even her shoes were sensible. I was inappropriately dressed in my sequined tank, skinny jeans, and heeled boots. I leaned against the wall and tilted my head back.

  I couldn’t be angry with Miriam for dying. She’d been so sick. And she was the reason I’d met Hayden in the first place. I peeked in on Rosie, whose chest rose and fell in the sharp, even movement of the oxygen machine.

  I stepped away from Rosie’s door and waited. The staffer and I studied each other, neither of us speaking. There was nothing to say, after all.

  Hayden met me outside the door within minutes, his face set, eyes empty. I swallowed down my tears. Those were for me, for my loss of him. Now wasn’t the time to let them fall. He took my hand, but his grip was loose. My heart stuttered.

  Dammit, he wasn’t allowed to pull back. I clasped his fingers tighter but he walked on, not acknowledging my attempt.

  “You don’t have to stay,” he said, his voice quiet.

  I flinched. I waited until he met my gaze.

  “I told you I’d be with you the whole way through.”

  The blank look cracked, and I saw the lost little boy behind the thick mask Hayden wore. His chin trembled before he mashed his lips together. I cupped his cheeks.

  “I’m here, right here. Don’t forget that.”

  The mask slipped further, his throat working to stave off the building sob as he tried to clamp the emotions back under his control.

  After an interminable minute, he pulled me close and buried his face into the curve of my neck. His breath slid across my skin in abrupt puffs. His arms plastered me to his front, but I was fine with that. I swayed a little, hoping the movement would be as soothing for him as it’d been for my niece when she’d been so overwrought after her father’s death.

  “Why does her death hurt so much?” he asked.

  “Because you loved her. Even though she hurt you, you loved her and wanted her in your life.”

  His breath puffed across my cheeks and his fingers dug into my sides as he gripped me tighter. “I need to do the paperwork,” he said. “I need this done.”

  The staffer led us to a small, clean office. Hayden shook hands with the mortician, a neat, balding man in a rumpled dark suit.

  “Thanks for coming tonight. I know this isn’t exactly typical.” Hayden’s voice was thick, his words clipped. I hugged his arm to my chest, trying to stave off the shivers building there.

  “Not a problem, Mr. Crewe. Sadly, this isn’t my only pickup here tonight.”

  The staffer handed over page after page, all designed to let go of Miriam’s earthly rights. Hayden was meticulous, reading each document before signing anything.

  “We’ll take the body to the funeral home now that we have your approval. Come by when you’re ready tomorrow. We’ll discuss the funeral procedure then.”

  The mortician flipped a page, his eyes moving with quick efficiency behind his bifocals. Did people choose this job on purpose, like some people wanted to be a chef or a firefighter?

  Some must, and I was thankful they did. The service was essential, helpful. This was a time when people made a real difference. Helping families in the grieving process was noble.

  “I have written here she wanted to be cremated. Do you have a copy of her will?”

  Hayden shook his head, jaw tensed so tight it looked like it might shatter.

  “I have copies of the file that the hospice director sent over yesterday. It’s all in here.”

  After a long moment where Hayden made no move to take the papers, the mortician set them on the table and rose. Slipping his bifocals into his rumpled shirt pocket, he made a show of stacking the papers.

  I couldn’t take Hayden’s stillness any longer. I slid my fingers along the back of his hand where it lay on the table, threading my fingers through his tensed ones.

  “Do you need anything else from us?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No. Condolences,” he said in a tired way that made me think it was his salutation, like anyone else’s goodbye.

  I rose, my chair scraping across the cheap pile of the institutional carpet. “Let’s go.” I tugged at Hayden’s hand. Urgency built in my chest. I needed him away from here, away from the memories of his mother.

  Hayden stood, his long body wooden with exhaustion. “Thank you for your help with my mum.”

  Hayden shook the mortician’s hand, and collected the papers he’d been given, his left hand still gripping mine. With each heartbeat, his grip firmed. Soon, I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore, but I didn’t ask him to let go. I hoped he considered me his anchor tonight. I needed to be that for him.

  Walking out of the building, Hayden turned back.

  “I hate that building.” His voice held an edge I didn’t like. In that moment, I stood before a man I didn’t know. How could I know him, when we’d only met days before? Then his eyes dropped to mine and they were so filled with sadness and longing, I couldn’t help but edge in closer.

  Some things—some people—the hours, days, weeks didn’t matter. I knew the fundamentals of Hayden’s character, same as he knew mine. That’s what mattered.

  I leaned my head against his shoulder. I had no words.

  “Let’s go.”

  He pulled me to my car, opening the door for me to slide in. “It’s quite late. You okay to drive?”

  “Sure. Where to?”

  He blinked, surprised. “My hotel.”

  I started the engine, hoping to quickly dispel the chill from the midnight fog. I drove to the hot
el, trying to ignore the wet tendrils licking over my windshield. Water droplets formed and spilled across the glass, reminding me of tears.

  I pulled up to the valet stand and turned to Hayden. He was staring down at his hands clasped in his lap. The lighting was poor, casting most of Hayden’s face into shadow.

  “You’re coming up. Right?” he asked.

  “If you want me to, yes. I’d like to.”

  He raised his right hand to my face, cupping my cheek. “I don’t want to be alone.” His voice was soft, more of a plea.

  I nuzzled closer, turning to press my lips against his cool skin. “You’re not. You never were.”

  He climbed out of the car, came around, and helped me out. Tossing the keys to the lone valet, he began to walk fast, his long legs eating up the distance to the elevators.

  With each breath, his emotions untethered further. By the time the elevator dinged for his floor, I expected him to howl out his anger. He pulled me down the hall toward his room, slamming the door open in his haste. I managed to close it with more care.

  “Hayden, it’s after midnight. People are sleeping.”

  He spun me around so my back was against the door. His breathing was erratic as his body pressed me into the unforgiving wood. The door handle dug into my hip. His fingers splayed through my hair as his mouth slammed against mine.

  The kiss was all demand. I braced my hands against his forearms and let him take. He plundered my mouth, each swipe of his tongue deeper and harsher. His need burned into me. I answered his as best I could, trying to keep up. He broke the kiss long enough to yank my top over my head. Fabric caught, ripped, but Hayden just kept pulling.

  “I need you,” he groaned against my throat. “Right now. I need to be with you. In you.”

  “You have me.”

  “I need you, Briar.”

  I speared my fingers through his hair, letting my body give its answer.

  Chapter 23

  Hayden

  The driving rush to lose myself in her body was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I was rough, but I couldn’t stop. More, I didn’t want to. Briar made that sexy noise where her breath caught in her throat, and my brain flashed to a maelstrom. I tore her pants down her legs with a quick jerk, then popped open the button of my jeans as my teeth found her nipple through her lacy bra. The noise she made was between a grunt and a scream, and I wanted more. Wanted to bury myself in her softness. Briar would help me forget. Briar would ease me, love me, keep me from shattering.