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TORN_A Rockstar Romance Page 5
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Hudson didn't protest me coming with him. He just said. "We just need buckets to put them in ."
"Right, gardener's shed has those too ."
"And where to put them when they're picked ?
I looked at Niall. "Call the florist again. The vases they were supposed to supply couldn't have also died in the un-refrigerated truck ."
Hudson grinned. "Good thinking, Lulu ."
I ducked my head at the nickname. It seemed special and dangerous at the same time. I smiled at him. His easy smile was waiting right there in return .
Reese sniffled. "You guys," she started to say, then her voice caught and she fell against Niall who gathered her up .
Niall's mouth twisted and I could tell he wanted to say something about the two of us going off together. But Reese's distress was too pressing. "Go," he mouthed over her dark head as he smoothed her hair and shushed her. "Thank you ."
I swallowed, tasting the danger I was deliberately causing. I grinned at Hudson. "Ready to go pick flowers, big man ?"
He lifted his chin. "I'm game for anything," he said and I kept my mind deliberately empty of any subtext to that statement .
I followed him as he strode out into the gardens. He didn't look back at me, but there was something in the way his long stride slowed down that let me know he was waiting for me to catch up. "She wanted yellows and golds," I mused, drawing up alongside him. Then I looked up and squinted at the sky. "Bloody hell is it hot ."
He chuckled. "You'd wilt in Texas heat ."
"Ooh, wilted? Too soon. Poor Reese ."
He winced. "Okay, well, yeah. Poor choice of words ."
He turned as we entered the first formal garden, his back to the blaze of yellow asters behind him. He looked like one of them made human, all golden-tanned skin and glinting blond hair. I itched for my sketchbook. "Hold still," I told him, taking out my phone. I could snap a quick picture, work on it later. When I'd calmed down .
Hudson closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun. I lowered my phone, knowing on instinct that it wouldn't capture what I was seeing, and the frustration that would cause ,
He opened his eyes to catch me staring. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. He tilted his head to the asters. "So, should we pick them? Those are yellow, right ?"
Panic made me sarcastic. "Of course they're yellow," I scoffed. "What are you, colorblind ?"
He blinked .
My hand flew to my mouth. "Are you actually colorblind? Oh fuck me, I'm sorry ."
He laughed. "Actually blue and yellow I'm pretty good with, but I just like to check. Reds and purples get me all screwed up. I can't see them at all ."
"Really? Do you see things in black and white then ?"
"Everything is sort of faded." He grimaced at me. "Like an Instagram filter ."
I tucked my phone back in my pocket and stuck out my tongue. "Point taken. But you can't exactly blame me for wanting to document that I'm picking flowers with the badass lead singer of Wreckage, can you now ?"
"Here." He plucked a flower and held it out, his long arm extended to me. "Take a picture. Hudson Grant picking flowers. For you ."
I swallowed hard. Here in the blazing sun, his feet planted wide in the grass, the sun on his face, he looked like...well he looked like he belonged. Outdoors with the wind lifting that little playful piece of hair that kept falling in his face. Out here in the sunshine there was nothing too much about him. He was exactly enough .
Exactly... right .
His long fingers brushed mine as I took the flower, and I hid my blush behind my phone as I framed the shot. "Thanks," I murmured .
"It looks almost as pretty as you do." He said this like he was commenting on the weather .
"Um." I turned away. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. "These are yellow right here too," I pointed out .
"Even I can see that," he said, deftly plucking an armful. As he did, he hummed in concentration, little snatches of song escaping his lips in that rich, layered voice of his. Was he doing it on purpose? Did he know the way his voice got under my skin? Listening to him was torture, especially this close to me. And suddenly he was too big again, and too close and too right here for me to handle .
He glanced up at me, letting a few words fall from his lips, a song I didn't recognize but my body seemed to know by heart .
He definitely knew what he was doing .
Watching Hudson was like watching a still pond. On the surface, everything is calm, but you know that underneath there is life churning and teeming just out of your sight. You can sense it, but not see it, not until you dive below the surface .
I shouldn't dive .
I couldn't dive .
"You're surprisingly good at picking flowers," I blurted. I couldn't keep my eyes off the way his fingers moved so deftly. Or the way his voice made heat pool in my belly .
"I was a mechanic a while back," he told me, dropping an armful into the bucket. "Back before your brother and them pulled me from obscurity ."
At the mention of my brother it was like someone poured a bucket of ice water over my head. Quickly I stepped back away from him. He seemed to understand and strode over to another golden clump. "I'll grab these," he said. "You want to go check further down ?"
"Yes," I stammered in a rush. I hurried past Hudson and down the path, determined to get as far away as I could .
Chapter Eleven
Hudson
T he morning of the wedding was the hottest one yet .
Sometime in the night, white chairs had appeared on the lawn, set up in neat rows to face a pergola artfully woven from shimmery white fabric and rustic pieces of wood. It looked like one of those homemade things my aunt used to make with crap from the craft store, but it probably cost more than a car .
Someone, most likely a worker but I wanted to think it was Tallula, had tucked little sprays of yellow flowers - the ones she and I had picked yesterday - into the white-knotted fabric. As I stood at the altar, I kept glancing at them over my shoulder, winking out at me every time the hot breeze blew. Like innocent little secrets .
A hired violist was sweating through her repertoire as the guests made their slow progress to their seats. Niall's parents were the last to be seated, his mother already pressing her handkerchief to her mouth, green eyes shining with proud tears as she looked up at the four of us. As she looked up at her son .
Then the music stopped. There was a rustle and then an errant cough. A bee buzzed in and out of the winking yellow flowers, and everyone stared, waiting .
I'm a pro. I'm perfectly at home singing shitty cover songs to indifferent bar patrons who show their appreciation by chucking beer bottles at my head. I'm also absolutely at ease playing to a packed stadium full of fans who show their appreciation by flinging their underwear at my head. Both are fine. Both are just part of the job. Being up in front of people has never bothered me at all .
But there's a difference between playing for a crowd - be it a few belligerent drunks or thirty thousand rabid fans - and standing up in front of your bandmate's rich relatives and trying to look like you belong .
Never let them see you sweat. I've always held on to that. But in this wool suit on this blazing hot day, I was definitely starting to sweat. Literally .
To my right stood Jules, who looked like the effort it took to keep from tapping nervously on his thigh was making him nauseous. Ewan stood on the other side of him, straight-backed and with his chin lifted. He kept glancing at Niall, as if trying to get his attention, maybe show him how it was done .
But Niall wasn't looking at us. He wasn't looking at much of anything. He stood with
his hands clasped in front of him, staring straight ahead, refusing to even acknowledge his surroundings - the coughing guests, his teary mother. He was focused - like a laser - on the house that loomed above us on that small hill .
Up there, a door finally opened and the music began again .
August came first, her red hair blazing like a sunset and a fiercely serious expression on her face. I felt, rather than saw, Jules stand straighter, like he drew his strength just from seeing his woman .
Next was Celia, arrived this morning and looking no worse the wear from having slept on a plane. Ewan cleared his throat and I could feel his pride rising off of him in waves as she processed down the aisle to stand to the right of the altar .
Then we waited. The next bridesmaid in line had the dual honor of being both the groom's sister and the bride's maid of honor .
Tallula was next .
I nearly strained my neck trying not to look like I was looking for her, all the while looking for her as hard as I could. As the seconds ticked by, I wondered if she wasn't going to step out, if the problem with her dress hadn't been resolved. After the flower picking yesterday, she had disappeared for the rest of the day, sticking close to her mom like she needed that buffer between us .
As if to answer my question, a small, sweetly curved shape suddenly stood silhouetted in the door of the mansion, the strong sunlight washing out her features .
But I'd know that body anywhere .
As Tallula stepped off the wide, deep front porch, I sucked in my breath. From this far off, I couldn't tell if she was smiling, but I was doing enough of that for both of us to see her coming to me .
No.
To us .
To the altar .
To her brother's wedding .
Not me .
God damn it Hudson. Get it together .
But that was a tall order. She floated down the aisle with her simple golden bouquet clutched demurely in front of her. The black dress she'd been struggling with had been swapped out for one that fit her even better. The way it swooped along, barely grazing her collarbones, like a kiss, had me breaking out into a sweat all over my body .
Her eyes flicked up, just once, to catch mine. Maybe she didn't even mean to look at me, maybe she was trying to give silent encouragement to her brother, who was looking like he wanted to faint. She turned and stepped over to stand with the bridesmaids, even though I wanted her over here with us. With me. But it was sweet the way she was standing for Reese, who didn't have much by way of family. Sweet. Like her face. Like her lips. Like everything about her .
I could tell from the murmur of the guests that Reese had appeared. Niall stiffened, like a bolt of electricity had struck him. But I couldn't tear my eyes away from Tallula long enough to even see his bride .
Everything that happened next, I experienced by watching the expression on her face. The welling of tears as they exchanged their vows. The laughter when Reese had to shove Niall's ring on really hard. The smile at the kiss. The applause as they exited man and wife .
And the glance my way when it was all over and it was time for the recessional .
Ewan stepped over and linked arms with Celia .
Jules rushed over and grabbed August tight .
And that left Tallula .
And me .
I offered my arm. She lifted her chin and caught my eyes. "Gotta go," I told her, in a voice much calmer than I felt .
She rested her hand on my arm, barely grazing the fabric of my suit and we stepped forward in unison. "You clean up nice," she whispered, keeping that pretty, perfect smile pasted on her face as we walked together back down the aisle .
I liked having her touch me like this. I liked the way her fingers tightened ever so slightly around my bicep. I liked the press of her breast against my arm .
I didn't like the way everyone was watching us right now. Because the things I was thinking had to be written all over my face. I felt like I was ready to shatter as we neared the rest of the wedding party lined up in front of the house for pictures .
Luckily Niall was too wrapped up in his own excitement to notice I hadn't let go of Tallula yet. He and Reese grabbed hands once we reached the porch .
"Yeah!" he shouted, lifting her arm up high. We all clapped as flashbulbs exploded .
There were a couple scandalized gasps from the rich relatives down below, but Jonah King shouted, "Yeah boy! Get it!" and Niall laughed and kissed Reese .
It was the kind of long, slow kiss that made us all avert our eyes. I took the opportunity to avert mine right onto Tallula .
Her nose was wrinkled up prettily as she looked away from her brother. Jonah, who'd spent time as our opener on the American leg of the tour, seemed to suddenly want the main stage. He was leading the rest of the guests in a chant of, "Kiss her! Kiss her!" that even some of the olds were starting to get into .
Tallula was reddening by degrees. "Not something a sister likes to see, huh?" I teased .
She shook her head. "I'll make an allowance given that it's his wedding day and all, but no. As far as I'm concerned, my brother is a completely sexless being ."
"Think he thinks the same of you ?"
She glanced up. "Of course he does," she said and if there was a hint of warning in her voice, I was being deliberately obtuse .
"He really doesn't like when you date, huh?" I asked, prying shamelessly now .
"He really doesn't know when I date," she said primly, deftly sidestepping my implied question. Then she shook her head. "But I don't think he likes it paraded in front of him either ."
There was definitely a warning there. I nodded and looked away, letting my grip on her arm ease up a little. Letting her step away from me if she needed to. I'd heard what she was saying and knew she was right. She really should go .
But she didn't drop her hand from my arm. Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly. She shifted closer to me, and her lips parted just a little to allow a small, private sigh to escape. I reached over and brushed my knuckles up her bare arm. She inhaled sharply, and glanced at me through heavy-lidded eyes. I brushed my hand back down again and when my fingers grazed the back of her hand, she turned it away from my arm, palm up, to close her fingers around mine. Just the tips. Just a fraction .
The sun blazed down on my head like a spotlight but the heat inside of me was all from her .
Chapter Twelve
Tallula
"A toast then!" Ewan cried, wrapping up his speech and lifting his glass to Niall and Reese. The rest of us raised our champagne glasses, the soft light of the candles twinkling off the crystal. A breeze ruffled through the tent, bringing with it the sound of night bugs and a hint of roses, totally at odds with Ewan's half-drunk brogue as he shouted into the mic. "To my friends. And to love so bloody strong it knocks you flat on your arse !"
"Cheers!" shouted the unruly section of the tent. My brother's friends - hard-drinking roadies and boisterous rockstars - were banging on the perfectly set tables, shouting for Niall to kiss Reese again and again. They didn't seem to need much encouragement. I glanced over at the rest of the guests - old, cheek pinching relatives with judgment in their eyes - and grimaced. As much as I didn't want to see my brother kissing anyone, because ew, I also didn't want to lump myself in with the snooty crowd .
So I raised my glass with the rest of the unruly mob. "Cheers!" I shouted over the sound of foot-stomping. "Good fucking luck, Reese !"
My new sister-in-law flashed me a bright, happy grin and I waved before I took a deep, long gulp of my champagne. Mom had sprung for the good stuff with tiny bubbles that went straight to your head. It was my turn to toast the happy couple and I needed at least three more big sips before I felt ready .
Ewan lurched over to hand me the mic, "Don't be too good, lass," he muttered, a little too close
to my ear. "Don't want to embarrass me, yeah ?"
A flustered looking Celia came to collect him, and she patted my arm. "Better you than me," she grinned .
I shook my head and cleared my throat into the mic. The shouts and whoops of Niall's friends drowned me out. "Um, excuse me?" I asked hesitantly .
"Hey!" shouted a booming Texas drawl. "Shut the fuck up, dipshits !"
The noise cut like someone had hit the pause button. I glanced over at Hudson, who was leaning back in his chair like a king on his throne. He nodded at me and made a gesture of, go ahead .
Blushing, I turned away from him so I could collect my thoughts. "Right then," I stuttered, clearing my throat again. Then I grinned. "Those of you who don't know, I'm Tallula. Niall's my older brother." I glanced at Niall who was watching me with an equal mixture of pride and suspicion. I winked at him and the suspicion deepened. "My very much older brother, I should add." A sprinkle of laughter from my relatives and a few hoarse whoops of derision from the rockers. My grin widened. "Right, Niall, I've been meaning to tell you you're not fooling anyone with that combover." My brother's hand went to his perfectly coiffed hair which wasn't thinning in the slightest but I wasn't about to tell him that. Instead I looked back out over the crowd again. "Right, so the very first thing I learned about Reese Bailey was that she saved my brother's life." A murmur went up from my relatives, but the rockers nodded. They had all heard the story of Reese tackling Niall away from the falling stage light. "And if you think really hard about love, isn't that what it does?" I cleared my throat. I'd learned the fine art of spinning bullshit at my fancy prep school and was applying it nicely in my classes at uni. What did I know about love? But it sounded nice, right? I blinked a little, uncertain why tears were starting to gather in my eyes. "Doesn't love save your life every day?" I nodded like I had made an important point, and couldn't help glancing over to Hudson, who was watching me like I was saying something beyond profound. "In small ways and in big ways, love is a lifesaver." I swallowed hard, unable to keep going with that thought and instead raised my glass. "To the life-saving power of love that you two have." I blinked. "I'm not going to say I'm jealous, because Reese you've gotta put up with my brother for the rest of your life, you poor thing." Reese laughed while Niall glared daggers at me and I felt some of my confidence come back. "To Niall and to Reese. May you save each other's lives every single day ."