The baby let out a small gurgle at the sound of Jessi’s voice. She leaned over Tommy’s shoulder and slipped her arm around his waist. “Why are you awake, Lucas? You’ve been sleeping so well these last few weeks.”
Angel yawned from the doorway. “I think he just wants company.” He leaned over Tommy’s other shoulder and smiled. “Hello, my little prince. You look more like your daddy every day.” He touched the baby’s feathery, blond hair with one finger. “Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?” Angel hummed something, and the baby cooed. “Did he just smile at me?”
“I think it was just gas,” Tommy teased Angel. Lucas loved the melodic tone of Angel’s voice. “Here.” He placed Lucas in Angel’s arms. “Maybe you can lull him to sleep with your voice.”
Angel placed a tiny kiss on the baby’s forehead, and they watched each other while Angel decided what to sing. He started humming the melody to an unknown song. “Get your guitar,” he whispered to Tommy.
They were trying to get Lucas to sleep, not rock out to his first jam. Tommy shook his head. “It’ll just make him more awake.”
“Your acoustic guitar.”
“I’ll get it,” Jessi offered. She retrieved Tommy’s acoustic Fender from downstairs and handed it to him.
“What do you want me to play?” Tommy asked.
“Just follow along.” Angel started humming again. It wasn’t a tune Tommy was familiar with, and he wondered if it was another Spanish lullaby. He pressed a few chords into the neck of his guitar and matched the rhythm of Angel’s tapping foot and inflections in his tone.
“Rock. Rock. Rock-a-bye baby. Rock. Rock. All night baby.” They were rudimental lyrics, but both Tommy and Angel knew it was the inspiration for a new song. They maintained excited eye contact while Angel added more lyrics. The words were soft and melodic for the baby’s benefit, and there weren’t any dramatic riffs yet, but the melody was solidified.
Jessi grabbed her phone and started recording. “It’s your next hit song!”
Angel put his index finger to his mouth and lowered his voice to a softer pitch.
Lucas was dozing. His tiny eyelids were struggling to stay open. His long, pale lashes brushed against his cheeks with each heavy blink of his beautiful blue eyes. Lucas fell asleep in Angel’s arms, and their song slowly came to a halt.
“I’m afraid to move,” Angel whispered.
Jessi waved him over to the crib and Angel gently deposited Lucas onto the mattress. The soft breaths and suckling noises the baby emitted were serene and calming. The three of them must have stood by the crib and watched him sleep for twenty minutes before either one of them made a sound.
They quietly exited the room and left Lucas alone with his dreams.
Chapter Seventeen
Jimmy sat behind the drum kit in Tommy and Angel’s home studio and tapped on his cymbal just loud enough to create background noise. “So let’s hear this new song you two have been working on.”
Tommy plugged in his Les Paul and freed his hair from the strap. He twisted the key on the head of the guitar and plucked the E string. He waited until Angel set his laptop to record the session before he rattled off a heavy riff. Angel growled into the mic. After a few measures, Jimmy added hard, fast beats that brought structure to the song, and the deep purr of Damien’s bass provided a gritty substance to the rhythm. The soft lullaby that Angel had crooned to Lucas evolved into a fast-paced punk rock manic burst of energy. The “Rock all night, baby” lyric turned into “Rock me all night, baby” and was filled with sexual overtones. They came to rest after the second chorus, and Angel played back the recording on his laptop so they could listen to it with a fresh ear. It was pretty damn fucking amazing.
Jimmy drove an excited beat into his snare. “That shit rocked!”
“It’s gonna be killer when it’s done,” Damien said.
“Let’s celebrate!” Angel retrieved a box from the cabinet. It was a humidor. “I have a little surprise for everyone.” He opened the lid and the scent of woodsy tobacco overpowered the studio. He took a fresh cigar from the box and placed it under his nose. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, then held it up to the light. “They’re authentic Vegas Robania Don Alejandro Cubanos.”
Jimmy took a cigar from the box and clamped it between his teeth. “Where the hell did you get these?”
“They were delivered fresh from my Uncle Mario last night when he came to see the baby.” He gave a sly smile. “He, um, has connections.” Angel took the cigar from between his lips and placed it between Tommy’s. It was still moist from Angel’s mouth. Tommy sucked on the end, and savored the taste of the fine tobacco almost as much as he savored his husband’s saliva.