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Wicked Beat (Sinners on Tour #4)(36)

By:Olivia Cunning


"I wish I'd never told him," Jace said. He slid from the piano bench. "I'm never going to live it down."

"A man's got to brag when he has a reason to," Eric said and pounded Jace on the back enthusiastically.

Rebekah laughed. "I think you're supposed to be humble about stuff like that."

"Psssh, fuck that. Always take credit where credit is due. Especially when you're solely responsible for inspiring the best bassist who ever lived."

Jace flushed.

"Whatever," Jon grumbled.

"Come on, Jon," Jace said. "I'll work on the bass line with you." He strode over to the side of the stage and picked up his shiny black bass guitar.

Jon looked torn between offense and gratitude. He sighed loudly and nodded. "I don't want to fuck it up. Sed's looking for a reason to hire a studio musician and send me packing."

"You could always play a recorded track," Rebekah suggested.

Eric looked at her as if she'd just called his mama a fat whore.

"No?" she said.

"No fucking way. I can't believe that you'd even suggest it. What do you think we are? Fucking cop-outs?"



       
         
       
        

"Sorry."

"I don't think I can ever forgive you." He turned his back and strode off.

She watched his retreating back for a scant minute before chasing after him. She must have pushed the wrong button. She hadn't meant to. When she caught up with him in the middle of the stage, she grabbed his arm and hurried to get in front of him. "I'm sorry, Eric. I didn't know-"

His attempts to keep a serious expression failed, and his scowl faltered into a grin. "Gotcha."

Rebekah poked him in the belly, and he laughed. "You were teasing me?"

"Not really. We're known for our live performance. We really wouldn't consider using a recorded track, but I'm not really offended that you suggested it."

"Then why-"

"So you'd pay attention to me."

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to your in-your-face honesty."

His brow crinkled with concentration. "Is it a bad thing?"

"No, just not normal." She bit her lip. That had come out entirely wrong. He just laughed.

"Normal is boring. I thought we were in agreement on that."

Well, yeah, but while she struggled to be different, it came naturally to him. In a strange way, she envied his freedom to be himself.

"You are definitely not boring," she told him. "I can't keep up with you."

"I think you're doing a great job, actually. Most girls would have given up on me by now."

She found that hard to believe. "Well, I'm not most girls."

"That's what I like about you most."

And there he was just blurting it all out in the open, giving her no time to reflect or ponder or wonder. She knew exactly where he stood. She found it strangely refreshing after all the head games her mother and Isaac had put her through over the past several years.

"I haven't decided what I like about you most," she said with a teasing grin. "There's just so much to like."

Eric's breath caught, and she found herself wrapped in his long arms and crushed against his hard chest. "Where have you been all my life?" He kissed the top of her head, his heart thudding like a bass drum against her ear.

Someone cleared his throat behind them. 

"Go away," Eric insisted and squeezed Rebekah more tightly.

"We need to rehearse, Sticks," Sed said in an amused tone. "You can cuddle with your new girl later."

Eric eased away slightly, and she craned her neck to look up at him.

"Can I cuddle with you later?" he asked her.

"I'd rather you watch me shower," she whispered.

His entire body stiffened. Yes, his entire body. "Uh." He squeezed her tightly again. "Are you serious?"

"Shhh. Go rehearse. I've got work to do."

Once she got the guitar amps in sync with the soundboard-Trey and Brian were phenomenal-she returned to the stage to hook up Eric's vocal mic.

"I think we'll have to go with a headset model," she told him. "You can't flail around like you normally do, or it will fly off." He held still while she slipped a headset into place and adjusted it. "Is that comfortable?"

"Do I look like a fighter pilot?" he asked, looking up at her from his stool with flashing blue eyes.

She grinned. "I don't think that haircut is regulation, soldier." She leaned closer to whisper in his ear. "Do you like to play dress-up in the bedroom?" She'd always thought it would be fun to pretend she was someone else while making love, and him asking if he looked like a fighter pilot had her envisioning multiple scenarios. Isaac had thought she was ridiculous when she'd mentioned wearing costumes. Isaac had thought most of her ideas were ridiculous. He was a very straitlaced individual. Very proper. A good man. He deserved a good wife. One who could give him children.