Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
BLUE
It wasn’t until we were in the hotel room, just the two of us, that the nerves started to creep in again. My heart rate picked up exponentially. A long bath seemed like the only reasonable form of escape.
I stayed in there for hours, scrolling on my phone while soaking in that clawfoot tub. It was the only thing keeping me from having a full-blown identity crisis. But eventually, I had to get out.
A quiet knock tapped against the door just as I leaned over the sink, trying to reapply some mascara and talk myself down.
“You almost ready?” West’s voice came through the door.
“Coming,” I called back, adjusting my top and giving my reflection one last attempt at a confident smile.
My outfit was pushing the limits: tight jeans with a few rips and a halter top that sat just above my navel.
The boots were scuffed but high enough to make a statement.
It was a country concert, and I wanted to look the part.
I just hoped I didn’t look like I was trying too hard.
I cracked the door open and found West leaning against the frame, his head down, shoulders tense. When he looked up, our eyes met and held for a second too long, before he looked down my body and took in my outfit.
He inhaled sharply but didn’t say a word at first.
Then, finally, he stood to full height, eyes back on mine, voice low. “You look… amazing.”
My stomach did a little backflip. “Thank you,” I said, more quietly than I’d meant to. It was the first time he’d ever said something like that. Complimentary. Unfiltered.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” I asked, eyeing the same suit pants he’d worn on the plane. The jacket had been tossed on a chair, but the rest? Unchanged.
“This is what I wear,” he said flatly, the same tone he used earlier when he told me that work was what he did, as if that was his personality. “I just redid my tie.”
“Well, it’s a concert, not a board meeting,” I muttered, stepping out of the bathroom. He shifted back to make room, and as I passed him, I grabbed the end of his tie and tugged gently.
He followed without resistance, that same unreadable expression on his face as I turned to face him.
“No husband of mine is showing up to a concert looking like he’s about to give a TED Talk,” I teased, fingers moving to loosen his tie.
I waited for him to stop me, to pull away and remind me of boundaries, but he didn’t.
He just kept watching me. I tugged again, loosening the knot.
“We’re not gonna look very married if you show up like that. ”
He cracked a smile and undid the cuff buttons on his sleeves. “I can lose the tie.”
“What else do you have in that bag of yours?” I asked, nodding toward the sleek leather duffel on the dresser.
He shrugged. “An extra shirt. Clean boxers.”
“No T-shirt? No comfy shorts to sleep in?”
“Nope.” He smirked, licking his lips. “I usually don’t wear anything to bed, sweetheart. And we’re leaving early, so I figured I’d just throw the suit back on.”
I stared at him, then pulled my phone from my back pocket and started texting.
“What are you doing?” He narrowed his eyes on me. But I didn’t answer until I heard a slight knock on the door and I headed to open it.
“You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve,” I said over my shoulder.
Jesse stood in the hallway, holding a pair of jeans and looking slightly amused. “He must really love you,” she muttered as she handed them over and turned to walk away.
I laughed and shut the door behind me. She had no idea.
Turning to face West I lifted the jeans and smiled. “Put these on.”
“Where did you get these?”
“Easton’s bag. You two are about the same size,” I added, holding the jeans up like a proud stylist. “Try them.”
“The last time someone dressed me, I ended up in elastic-waisted khaki shorts and a fishing shirt.”
I burst out laughing, unable to picture him in anything of the sort. That was probably especially traumatic for him, but I wasn’t asking that much.
“They’re just jeans, West. Please.”
He didn’t argue, just took the jeans from my hands and undid his belt while staring me down.
I meant to turn away, I really did, but my eyes stayed locked on him as he let his pants fall.
The white boxer briefs clung to every muscle in his thighs and showcased a substantial bulge from his cock, making me forget how to breathe.
He didn’t say a word. Just pulled the jeans up slowly, watching me watch him until he slid them onto his waist and I was finally able to blink. “They look great. On you. Obviously.”
“I think Easton got these at Walmart and wore them while installing a shower for me a few months ago.”
“You pay that much attention to Easton’s ass?”
West flicked a speck on the thigh. “That’s not a fade. That’s dried caulk.”
“Doesn’t matter, pretty boy,” I said, walking toward him again. “Just changing out of your suit already makes you look concert ready. But—” I paused, tugging at his shirt, “—this one’s seen better days. Looks like it’s been tucked in since breakfast.”
I started unbuttoning it slowly, giving him another chance to stop me.
He didn’t. When the last button came free, I slid it off his shoulders and let it drop.
I had seen him shirtless before, inside the office at Fiddlers, but the lighting in our ocean front room hit him differently.
He was more lithe than Easton, and the jeans hung low, exposing the band of his underwear.
His abs were cut and flexing as he moved and my brain nearly short-circuited.
He reached into his bag for the clean shirt, giving me time to turn away and collect what little chill I had left. Behind me, I heard his belt click and his shoes scuff back on. I was just about to turn around when I felt him step behind me, close enough to feel his breath on my neck.
“You happy now?” he asked, voice low and amused.
Nodding, I didn’t answer, because the truth was simply yes. Not because I didn’t like him in suits, but because now he looked real.
“Then let’s go. Everyone’s waiting downstairs.”
He pressed a hand to the small of my back as we walked to the elevator. We stood on opposite sides during the ride down. He rolled his sleeves up, slow and intentional. Then right before the doors opened, he reached across and grabbed my hand, pulling me into him.
Grams and Gramps stood outside the elevator. Their smiles lit up the lobby the second they saw us. “You two look ready for a good time,” Gramps said with a wink.
I leaned in closer, my palm resting on West’s chest. “My first plane ride. First concert. First time in Virginia Beach. This is gonna be an amazing night.”
West gave a soft chuckle. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Where’re Easton and Jesse?” I asked.
“They’re coming,” Gramps said, trying not to laugh. “Got held up. Something about Easton losing his pants.”
I stifled a giggle. Whether they were teasing about the jeans West borrowed or implying Jesse literally helped Easton out of his pants, I didn’t care. The way West shifted uncomfortably next to me made the whole thing even better.
We stood chatting for a few more minutes. Grams asked about the bath, and I told her all about the eucalyptus-scented miracle I’d submerged myself in. She was just promising to try it herself when I heard my name.
“Blue Caldwell?”
I turned instinctively toward the sound, only for West’s arm to tighten around me like a vice.
“Miles!” I said, but couldn’t move. Miles stood in the center of the lobby with open arms, completely unaware that his big brother had latched on like a jealous octopus.
When I didn’t immediately go to hug him, Miles frowned and walked over, reaching past West’s grip to pull me into a big, warm, brotherly hug.
“I heard you were coming,” he said into my ear, “but I didn’t believe it.”
“It’s been a wild few weeks,” I replied. “Especially since you left town… Officer Brooks.”
That name earned me another squeeze from West, but Miles just laughed and winked. “Relax, big guy.”
He gave West a playful shoulder pat, then turned to greet their grandparents. Jesse and Easton emerged from the elevator a few minutes later, and judging by Jesse’s face, I’d say Easton definitely lost more than just his pants.
“All right,” Miles called out, clapping his hands. “Let’s go. Lox can’t wait to see y’all. She’s doing soundcheck now, but I promised I’d bring you back to hang out and say hi before the show.”
Outside, the cars were already waiting. Drivers stood by the open doors, ready to whisk us away. Grams and Gramps went with Miles in the first car, Easton and Jesse in the middle car, and West and I were going to take the caboose. We all started to separate when Miles turned back to our group.
“Wait!” he said loud enough for the valet, the drivers, and a few nearby guests to hear. “Is West wearing Easton’s jeans?”