“Mm, yeah.”
Then I began to sing a sweet, hokey, perfect love song that said it al as my band played.
And when I started singing about them taking the long way, I saw tears fil ing Indy’s eyes. And when I was singing about them holding on, stil together and strong Indy was flat out crying.
Then my band stepped up to their mics and sang the title of the song as I kept singing.
As we played, the crowd swayed but I kept my eyes on Indy and Lee.
Then when I started singing about them beating the odds together, Indy turned to Lee. He had an arm wrapped around her, his other hand went to her jaw, her arms were around his waist, her head tilted back and she sang the rest of the song with me but to her husband.
Hugo’s keyboards played as the band sang their “oo’s” when I watched Lee’s head dip low so his forehead was resting against Indy’s and they both closed their eyes and held onto each other.
I started singing again, Indy’s eyes opened and so did Lee’s, his hand slid down to her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw as she kept singing right along with me.
The band went silent and I finished with just my guitar as Indy kept singing to Lee but my eyes moved to Mace, they locked with his and I sang the last two lines of the song direct to him.
I stopped singing and the guests cheered, Al y and Daisy let out catcal s and Tex gave a war whoop.
Mace just shook his head.
Then he smiled.
I smiled back.
Indy and Lee weren’t cheering, they were making out, again.
It was the best present I’d ever given in my life.
The band didn’t hesitate. Hugo moved to the bongos and started the rhythm, Floyd started to play piano and I took the microphone in my hand.
“Enough of that,” I said to the guests, looked back at the band and shouted, “Let’s rol .”
And that’s when we played Joe Cocker’s “Feelin’
Alright”.
Everyone started dancing, even Indy and Lee began to sway with the music. When it was time for the chorus, the entire crowd put their hands into the air sang it with us.
Floyd was laying it down when my eyes found Mace’s.
He was standing with Luke and Vance but he was smiling at me in a way that was heart wrenchingly familiar.
It was the same, sweet, unguarded smile he wore in the photo of him and Caitlin I saw in the paper.
I was “onstage” so, unfortunately, al I could do was smile back.
But in my head, I gave one of the dying demons a last, vicious, sucker kick to the gut.
Then I focused on rock ‘n’ rol .
We went from Cocker to Three Dog Night and played
“Shambala” then on to The Doobie’s “Jesus Is Just Alright”.
After that, I let Buzz take one and he sang America’s “Sister Golden Hair”. Then we turned it up a couple notches, going straight into Boston’s “Peace of Mind”. Final y, I strapped on my mouth organ and we finished with one of our signature songs, the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s, stomping, twanging, kickass “Ain’t No Easy Way”.
With our “thank you’s” said into the mics, we left the instruments but the guests shouted and hooted until we were forced to go back and do an encore of “Ghostriders in the Sky”.
For your information, the vibe of the set list was the happiest we’d ever played.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Swen and Ulrika Are Gonna Be Pissed
Stella
Mace and I were in an Explorer on the way to my apartment after the reception and I was riding a kil er happy buzz.
I was with my man, I loved him, he loved me, he was holding my hand against his thigh, my band was going to head to the studio for recording time on an impending recording contract, two people I cared about just had a kickass wedding and no one had been shot at or kidnapped al day.
“Happy buzz,” I muttered to the window, grinning at it like a lunatic.
“What?” Mace asked as he turned onto my street.
I looked to him. “Happy buzz.”
He glanced at me briefly, his beautiful jade eyes smiling, then back at the road.
I tested the boundaries of my seatbelt to lean into him, pul ing my fingers from his hold only to curl them around his thigh; I kissed his strong, square jaw as I heard him engage the turn signal before pul ing into my drive.
“Never been happier, babe,” I whispered, my lips moving against his jaw.
Mace didn’t reply but I felt his jaw get hard under my lips.
This surprised me so I pul ed back a bit, looked at his hard profile then fol owed the direction of angry gaze and saw a limousine at the end of the drive.
Shitsofuckit.
As we pul ed up, the backdoor opened and Preston Mason folded out of the backseat.
Just as I suspected.
Shitsofuckit!
“Great,” I muttered. “If anyone could kil this happy buzz, The Supreme Asshole of Al Time could do it.” Mace ignored my comment and ordered, “Stay in the truck,” as he came to a halt then put the SUV in neutral and set the brake without turning off the ignition.