Chapter 11
FLINT
Romans has burned down? Fuck! I’d really liked that place. “Will it be rebuilt in time?”
“No.” A fresh waterfall of tears cascaded down Sutton’s face. Blotches of red covered her cheeks and shone on the end of her nose. She tossed her used tissue next to the other ones scrunched in a pile on the nightstand. “Quill called twenty minutes ago. Supposedly faulty wiring sparked during the renovations. The whole venue is destroyed. There’s nothing to rebuild. We had so much trouble securing a place a couple months ago. What are we going to do now?”
“Hey. It’s okay.” I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Shit. We need a miracle. “We’ll find somewhere. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter where we get married as long as we get married.”
“Yes...but no,” she sobbed. “That was the perfect place. In the perfect location. With the perfect view over the beach.”
Yeah. It was. “Hey?” I rubbed the back of her head. “Let me grab us a wine, and we’ll come up with another plan. You want red or white?” Stay calm. We’ll find somewhere. Fuck! But where?
“White.” She sniffed and sat upright. “How come you always know what I need? ”
“Because I love you.” I pulled a fresh tissue out of the box on the nightstand and handed it to her. “So dry those tears. I’ll get us a drink.”
“Thank you.” She dabbed her eyes and wiped her cheeks.
I dashed upstairs, grabbed a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the wine fridge, and poured two big glasses. My head throbbed. Wedding venue? Think. I’d held enough big parties in my time. Surely, I could come up with ideas for our wedding.
So much for having a break from nuptial discussions.
But I’d promised the guys I’d suck it up and be involved. Time to grow a set and help.
I returned to our bedroom, closed the door behind me, I took a seat next to her, and handed her a wine. “Okay, so Romans is out. Did Quill offer any new alternatives?”
She curled her legs underneath her, rubbed her brow, and shook her head. “No. He says if we want to stick with our date in May, and don’t want to get married in the city, the only option is to do a private ceremony on the beach. I don’t want to get married on the sand. I want to see the ocean but not be on it. I don’t want to get dirty feet or get wet or ruin my dress.”
I pressed my lips together to contain my smile. She really wasn’t a beach person. Why she used to live in an oceanfront condo in Santa Monica still amused me. She couldn’t swim and loathed sand, dirt, and holiday crowds. But like me, she loved the view of the water.
I took a sip of my drink and licked my lips. The dry white wine was cool and refreshing after a hot day. “Has Quill tried every hotel, country club, ranch, and function center between San Diego and Santa Barbara?”
Sutton bobbed her head, smoothed her short sundress over her legs, then rested her glass on top of it. I’d preferred her skirt where it had been, resting higher up her thighs. “Within our specifications, yes. ”
Damn! “And you don’t want to get married in Downtown, Hollywood, or Beverly?”
“No.” She flicked a lone tear off her cheek with the tissue.
“Sutt?” I placed my hand on her knee, just so I could touch her...and tease her skin just beneath the edge of her dress. “Is there anywhere else in the world you’d like to get married? London? Italy? Paris? New York? If you’re set on a beach view, we can look at Hawaii, the Bahamas, Tahiti, or a gazillion other locations.”
As she closed her eyes, a troubled groove formed between her eyebrows. She took a few deep breaths, her shoulders rising and falling with each one. But then she stared into her wine and shook her head. “I love those places, but no. I want to get married in LA. It’s where we met. Fell in love. It’s home. And most of our friends and family live there.”
True. I raked my brain for a solution. “What about Cole’s house? There’s no beach view, but he has a huge garden. It’s high in The Hills, overlooks the city lights, and has room for a couple hundred people.” Our yard barely had room for a cat. We had a decent-sized outdoor entertainment area and a big pool, but otherwise, the house took up the entire block. The few square feet of grass and hedged fence line could hardly be called a garden. And it definitely wasn’t large enough to hold a wedding. Cole’s place, on the other hand, was an over-the-top extravagance.
She shook her head. “He has a beautiful home, but that’s like us getting married in our own house. I don’t want that.”
“Okay . . . what about Kyle and Gem’s joint in Pacific Palisades?”
She squeezed my hand, and her lips drew into a strained smile. “It’s gorgeous, too, but not big enough for a large number of guests.”
I wouldn’t object to scaling down her first draft of the guest list to less than one hundred, but Sutton wanted to invite everyone—friends, family, and important people in our lives. So be it. “Alright, so if there are no venues or hotels available, we’ll have to find a house we can take over for a few days.”
She took a big gulp of wine and swallowed it down. Her whole body slumped as if exhausted. “Yes. At this point, I’ll consider anything. But who do we know who owns a home with a massive garden that overlooks the beach, that will accommodate a wedding for over two hundred people?”
The cogs in my brain kicked into top gear. The wheels turned and whizzed, but then they clicked into place. Shit. “I...might.” But I didn’t want to get her hopes up. “It’s a really, really long and very thin shot, but Andy, the owner of our old label WestTyme Records, owns a place on the hills in Malibu. It overlooks the beach. I could see if we could have it there. He’s rarely in LA these days. His latest dick-warmer is some eighteen-year-old British pop star, so he spends most of his time in London.”
Hope flickered in her dark blue eyes, but it was quick to fade. She wrinkled her cute, reddened nose. “But you didn’t end things well with WestTyme. Do you think he’d let us use his house?”
I swayed my wine through the air, tilting it this way, then that. “Andy’s okay... just . He’s ruthless and will do anything for publicity. He’ll no doubt take this as an opportunity to beg, grovel, and promise the guys and I the world to re-sign with them. But there is no way we’d ever do that.” I was positive WestTyme regretted dropping us after seeing the hits we’d had under Everhide’s label, and the tremendous success we’d had selling out our global tour thanks to the Ashlem Entertainment Group. But tough shit. They were the consequences of not giving me more time to process losing Phil. Severing ties with WestTyme had been the best thing that had ever happened to my band. We’d grown, had gotten bigger, and would never look back. “If Andy agrees, we’ll have to drop his name during some PR, but I’m okay with that. Are you?”
A meek smile played across her lips as she shoved my thigh. “I am all for publicity. You should know that.”
Yes, I do.
Light returned to her beautiful eyes. She straightened and swiped her damp cheeks with her fingertips. “Do you know the address of the house? Can we Google it so I can check it out?”
“Sure.” I grabbed my cell phone out of my shorts pocket, typed in the address and clicked on the image tab. “This is it.” I turned the screen toward her. “As far as I know, no one else has ever gotten married there. We’d be the first.”
A huge grin lit her face. “I’d love that.” She scrolled through the pictures of the exterior. “Wow. This place is gorgeous.”
The huge, two-story Spanish-style mansion, with its manicured lawn and immaculate gardens, stood high on the cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. It was elegant, like Sutton. Built to entertain, like me. It would be perfect...if we could get it.
“I’ve been there a couple times.” A dull thud drilled low and deep into the depths of my mind. Memories of the cocaine-high, pill-popping, alcohol-overloaded, groupie-filled parties Andy used to hold bombarded me. They’d been fucking wild events. But I didn’t want that kind of gig for our wedding. No. Definitely not.
“It’s really nice inside.” I scanned the image results, but there weren’t any recent photos online of the interior. “He totally gutted and rebuilt the place when he bought it. It’s modern. Has big, black fancy lights. It’s decked out with beige furniture and dark floors and has a huge arched staircase inside the entrance. We could get married at sunset on the lawn, then have the reception in an event tent.”
“I’d love that.” Sutton stopped scrolling through the photos and lifted her chin. Desperation welled in her eyes. “Can you call Andy?”
“ Yep.” I glanced at my watch and did a quick calculation. “Tomorrow. It’s close to one a.m. in London. If Andy says yes, we’ll go check out the house and see if you like it.”
“Flint?” She slapped my thigh. “We both have to like it. It’s our day—not just mine.”
I caught her hand and entwined our fingers. “I’d marry you out our front door on the curbside, but that’s not your style.” I kissed her fingertips. “Is it?”
“No. I want our day to be perfect. Something everyone will remember and talk about for years to come.”
I wouldn’t be marrying her if I had expected anything less.
I leaned in and gave her a soft kiss. “I’ll certainly remember it. Forever. Guaranteed.”
Too smooth?
Never!
I was just stoked that I, some kid from Pasadena, who liked singing and playing the guitar, could now afford to give my fiancée the wedding of her dreams.
Silver flecks sparkled in Sutton’s eyes. She grazed her teeth across her lower lip. Yeah, I’d made her day. She curled her hand around my leg and gave it a small nudge. “Since we’re discussing the wedding, and I know it’s not your favorite topic, but would you mind doing one or two other things with me...maybe three?”
I took a quick sip of wine, then threw her a saucy grin. “Is that the number of orgasms you want me to give you? I’m down for that.”
“No.” She blushed. I loved it when she did. “I meant discuss a few wedding details.”
“Sure.” Anything for her. “But remember, we’ve got to cook dinner soon. ”
“I know. We have plenty of time.” She grabbed her folder and took out a bunch of printouts. “So, first, what kind of suit do you want to wear? That will influence the overall theme, colors, the style of decorations, the flowers, and the girls’ bridesmaid dresses. Since we aim to get married near the beach, do you want to go casual in linen?” She shuffled and moved the photos, laying them out on the bed. “Or wear semi-formal dinner suits, or go all out in black-tie tuxedos? And what colors do you like?” She pointed at a pile of floral arrangements printouts. “Bright reds, pinks or yellows, soft pinks and creams, or white?”
Wow. This was a lot to take on board. I really didn’t care about this shit. But Sutton did. And when I looked at the photos, I winced. Maybe I did care. I put my wine on the nightstand and sifted through the images spread out across the bed. Some suits in the pictures weren’t me. A few of the flower bouquets were ugly. So...yeah, I had to have a say...and a bit of fun.
“Sutt, none of this works. I want the guys and I to wear bright blue dinner suits and have the place decked out with big pink flowers, silver balloons, and huge ice sculptures. I want real flamingos walking around the garden and have a classical pianist playing. Oh, and doves. We’ve gotta have a fucking shitload of doves.”
Sutton choked on a mouthful of wine and giggled. “Ice sculptures? Flamingos? Doves? What the hell? Since when have you liked them?”
I swooped in and kissed her lips. Hovering an inch away from her mouth, I lowered my tone and chuckled. “Never. I’m fucking with you.”
She caught my chin between her thumb and index finger, shook my head, then tapped my cheek. “I know.” She touched her lips to mine and smiled. She combed her fingers through my hair, swiping the long strands off my face. “I know you, Flint Glover. But I can get you flamingos if your heart is set on them. ”
“No.” I grimaced. “Please don’t. I definitely don’t want flamingos.”
“I was kinda liking the idea.” Her playful tone threaded through my heart. Damn , she’s beautiful.
“No, you weren’t. They’d shit all over the lawn, and you wouldn’t want that.”
Her eyes glinted as she pressed her forehead against mine. “I hate that you know me so well.”
“Likewise.” I kissed her again, then scanned the pile of pictures once more. “Okay. So let’s do this wedding thing.”
“Please.” She shuffled in close, her arm and leg brushing against mine. Yeah...perfect.
I sifted through the printouts. “How’s this? I like black. So no linen. I’d prefer a dinner suit and tie over a tux.” I grabbed the picture of the Hugo Boss design that had caught my eye and placed it in front of Sutton, then shifted through more of her photos. “Roses are your favorite flower, so ignore all these peonies, tulips, orchids, and whatever these spikey looking things are.” I tossed those pages aside. “And you like light pink more than any other color.” I picked up a couple of pictures containing pink decorations and flowers and put them beside the suit photo. “So my suggestion would be black dinner suits, light pink roses, and decorations similar to this.” I pointed to an image of a table decked out with a black tablecloth, white plates, candles, crystal glassware, and a low centerpiece of pink and white flowers.
“Oh my God.” Sutton splayed her hand across her chest and rested her head against my shoulder. “Black and pale pink are perfect. You’re so good at this. I’ve been stressing about themes and colors for weeks. You really need to be more involved.”
“I will. I promise.” I kissed the tip of her shoulder. “I’m sorry I haven’t been. I just want you to have the most amazing day and have everything you want. I don’t want to get in the way. But from now on, if you need my help, just ask. Although...I don’t think I’ll be very useful when it comes to your dress.” The excitement of our pending day simmered through my veins. “I’m actually looking forward to that surprise. To see you dressed up as a beautiful bride. My bride. But I’d also be very happy if you wore nothing.” I twisted toward her and ran my hand over her bare thigh. “Or if you chose something short and sexy. Nothing skanky, but something that shows off these gorgeous legs.”
She raised a saucy eyebrow. “I won’t be in nothing. I already know what I want for my dress.” All traces of her tears disappeared as glitter shimmered through her eyes.
“You’ll look amazing in anything, but I have one simple request.” I dipped my head and kissed the small of her neck. “Make sure it doesn’t have a million buttons or lacing. I’ll want to get you out of whatever you’re wearing as quickly as possible. Deal?” I slid my palm higher up her thigh, dragging the hemline of her dress with it. She giggled as my hand disappeared underneath her skirt and my fingertips brushed across the front of her panties. “Make sure it’s...this easy.”
She turned to face me and smiled against my lips. “What happened to discussing the wedding?”
“Oh...we are.” I took her wine and placed it next to mine on the nightstand. “This is part of the wedding is non-negotiable. Practice is essential before our wedding night.”
“ Mmmm . I won’t argue with that.” She ran her hands over my shoulders, down my sides, and took hold of my T-shirt. She eased it upwards, yanked it over my head, and dropped it on the floor. Hunger flared in her eyes as she raked her gaze over my chest. Total boner material . She leaned forward and kissed along the length of my collarbone, up my throat, and met my lips. “I love you.”
“Will you love me when I’m an old, fat, and frumpy musician? ”
“I will never stop loving you. Not ever.”
“Sutt.” I cradled the back of her head and buried my fingers into her hair. “We are going to have a spectacular wedding. With our friends and family. And music. And laughter. I want to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. All I ask is for you to be mine.”
“I already am.” She untied the cord at the top of my beach shorts and ripped the Velcro open. She eased them off my legs along with my briefs. One eyebrow curved upward as she scanned my straining cock. “And this is mine.” She wrapped her hand around my hard dick, stroked it up and down, then dragged her thumb over the tip.
“ Hmmm .” I hummed, pulsing into her touch. I pulled her dress over her head and tossed it aside, then ripped off her panties and bra. Snaking my hand around her hip, I guided her back onto the bed. As I hovered over her, kissed her, and licked the tips of her gorgeous tits, I took in every inch of her gorgeous body. There was nothing more beautiful than this woman before me. Her smile lit my world. Her touch grounded me. She owned me, heart and soul.
I’d been in love twice before, but neither of those times came close to how deep, satisfied, and complete Sutton made me feel. She was the calm to my storm. The light to my darkness. The fire to my ice. She’d brought me back to life and made my heart beat again. For her.
There were days when my grief overwhelmed me. Days I didn’t know how I would face the hours ahead. But every time I heard her voice, saw her smile, touched her hand, and kissed her lips, every wrong in my world righted.
She’d seen me at rock bottom. Helped me find music. Loved me and my friends with all our faults and flaws. I’d fallen in love with her time and time again. I couldn’t wait to marry her.
As I nestled between her legs and braced my forearms beside her head, my heart pounded in time with hers. Life had tested us, dragged us through hell, and we’d survived. We were troubled souls who’d healed each other. She’d saved my life. I was indebted to her for this lifetime and every one after that.
She wrapped her long legs around me and drew my hips against hers. She brushed her fingertips down my cheek and whispered, “Together forever, okay?”
“Yeah, Sutt. Forever.”
My lips found hers. With a flick of my tongue, I tasted and teased and explored her sweet mouth. She was the only drug I’d ever need. Burying myself inside her, I thrusted, rocked, and plunged slowly into her hot depths. Each drive made me harder. Hotter. Hungrier for her. She clenched around me and rocked her hips in time with mine. My breath snagged, hissing through my teeth. As I drove my hard cock into her pussy, a low groan rumbled deep inside my throat. “Fuck , I love you. I can’t wait to marry you. I can’t wait to call you my wife.”
Tears welled in her eyes as the biggest smile curled across her lips. “Then we better find somewhere to say I do .”
“On it. In the morning. But right now, it’s time to practice making you come...at least twice.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“Nothing . . . absolutely nothing.”
Grinning, I withdrew, kissed my way down her body and headed between her legs.
First one, coming up.
***
In the morning, I made a call to Andy. After his initial shock that I’d contacted him—and he’d thrown a few rude comments and dirty jokes my way—I’d gotten down to business. His house was available. He’d love us to have our wedding at his place in return for some publicity. Done. We could check out his home at any time. One of his new artists, Cheri Rose, was staying there until mid-April while she recorded an album and performed some gigs on the West Coast. The place was ours after that. Yes! Sutton and I could keep our early May wedding date. Perfect!
We had a deal.
One task ticked off the wedding plan list.
One happy fiancée.
One less stress.
I prayed that was the last drama for us before the wedding...but somehow, I doubted it.