Chapter 35 #2
I am easy.
Fuck, I am on one today.
The world narrows again. The birds, the wind, the world fades until it’s just her eyes holding mine.
Then she laughs, light and breathy.
“You’ve got that look again.”
“What look?”
“The one that makes me forget my own name.”
I grin, leaning closer, lowering my voice to a whisper. “That’s okay, baby, you can scream mine.”
Nice.
That was quick. 8 out of 10.
She nudges my chest, playfully shaking her head before stepping past me toward the kitchen.
“Coffee?”
“Yeah,” I say, watching her move, sunlight chasing her across the floorboards.
The smell of coffee fills the kitchen, rich and dark, winding through the air.
I lean against the counter, mug in hand, pretending to drink just to give myself something to do. Truth is, I’m watching her. Every small thing. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear, how she holds herself, and occasionally I may eye her thigh gap… those fucking clothes are a distraction.
We should make her take them off.
Slowly.
When did the calm change its meaning for me? When did craving noise to fill the void shift into leaning into the serenity…just being.
With her.
She’s my noise filter. My mic cover. Blotting out the harsh consonants of the world.
There was a time when silence used to drive me insane.
When it meant something was coming—my old man’s footsteps, the sound of a door slamming, the kind of quiet that felt like danger.
Now, unspoken looks, expectant smiles, its tranquility.
Even the panting of the dogs. They certainly favor Sera, but they at least tolerate me, which is way better than having my balls plucked from me like ripe fruit.
Sera glances over her shoulder, catching me staring, and smiles like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“What?” she teases.
“Nothing,” I say, voice low. “Just admiring my wife.”
Stop staring like you are fucking concussed, it’s getting weird.
I don’t want to break this feeling of calm, this peace.
She laughs, the sound soft and I swear it echoes somewhere deep in my bones. She grabs her mug, coming to lean beside me at the island. For a moment, we just stand there—her shoulder brushing mine, the dogs stretched out at our feet, tails twitching as they rest.
The normalcy of it hits me hard. Too good. Too perfect. I realize I’ve been waiting for something to ruin it, because that’s what life has always done.
Sera takes a sip and hums contentedly, eyes on the window. “You’re quiet this morning,” she murmurs.
“Just thinking,” I say, setting my mug down.
“About what?”
“Love.” The word slips out before I can stop it.
Well… at least you said something you fucking moron.
What the shit, whose fault is it for letting that slip, we should have… nah. We said it. Can’t unsay it.
She stills, her eyes darting up to meet mine, a question hovering there.
“I’ve seen all sorts of concepts of love…
used to think love was destructive, hateful.
” I admit. “That it had to hurt to be real. My parents…they weren’t exactly the blueprint for it, you know?
And the people I saw who were in it—” I pause, thinking of Mac and Logan, their fire, their story.
“Even when it’s real, it looks messy. Wild.
But this…” I gesture faintly between us. “You. It feels different.”
Sera doesn’t say anything, but her fingers reach for mine, intertwining gently. Her thumb strokes over my knuckles.
She leans her head against my shoulder, whispering,
“Trey-”
I turn, pressing a kiss to her temple, breathing her in.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s just…Illuminating you know?”
I still can’t say the words out loud.
I glance out the window as a familiar black SUV pulls up the drive.
“They’re here,” I call out.
Sera looks up from the counter, where she’s been chopping fruit for the dogs—something she started doing a week ago that makes them worship her even more. Her smile widens, soft and genuine.
“The guys?”
“Yeah,” I say, and before I can add anything else, Artemis bolts for the door, barking once before I hush her.
The front door bursts open, and the sound of laughter spills through the hall. Logan’s voice, low and steady, Sam’s booming laugh, Chace’s teasing tone—it all fills the space like it belongs here.
“Man, it feels good to be back in the sun,” Chace says, dragging me into a half-hug, half-shoulder punch. “BC’s freezing my damn soul.”
“Didn’t know you had one,” I shoot back, smirking.
Behind him, Mac’s already heading straight for Sera, her excitement barely contained.
“I got the call!” she announces, her voice all bright edges and disbelief. “Five days and I get my keys back. My house. The rebuild is done. Just in time for Christmas.”
I grin, watching her practically vibrate with happiness. After everything—the fire, the chaos Braden’s ex left behind—she deserves this.
“That’s incredible, Mac,” Sera says, her voice soft with sincerity as she opens her arms. The two of them hug like old friends, like they’ve known each other for years instead of weeks.
Logan steps in next, his expression tender as he wraps Sera into a brief, careful hug. “Good to see you, Sera.”
She smiles up at him, cheeks flushed. “You too, Logan.”
Get your hands off my woman, you stupid sexy Latino fuck.
Hench Enrique Iglesias ass.
Sam’s next, dropping a kiss to her cheek before she even realizes what’s happening. “You surviving him?” he teases, jerking a thumb toward me.
Lips off, Bin Diesel.
She laughs, a sound that makes my chest tighten.
“I’m still standing.”
She’s shaky some days…
It’s fucking great. Fuck her till her legs are jelly. Stumbling around like Bambi.
The room fills with easy conversation—the kind that comes when everyone just fits. The kind I never thought I’d see her in. She moves among them like she’s always belonged—her laugh blending with theirs, her hands busy as she starts pulling out ingredients from the fridge.
“You guys hungry?” she asks. “I can make something—sandwiches, pasta, whatever you want.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Mac says, but Sera just waves her off.
“I want to,” she says simply.
I stay leaning against the doorway, just watching her. The way she listens when the guys talk. The way she smiles when they tease her. The way she makes this space warmer without even trying.
I’m feeling it again. Love.
Chace and Sam are halfway through arguing about what counts as “real coffee” when Mac claps her hands together gaining everyone’s attention.
“All right,” she says, glancing between me and Logan before turning to Sera with a grin. “When you guys go to rehearsals tonight, we’re having a girls’ night.”
Sera blinks, mid-slice of tomato. “A girls’ night?”
“Hell yeah,” Mac says, her excitement bubbling over. “I brought facemasks, nail varnish, and the cheesiest Christmas rom-coms I could find.”
Hallowed be thy Hallmark movies…
Fuck, now I am thinking about the sexy Portland twins. Haven’t text them in a few, bet they’re spit roasting some lucky lady over a chestnut fire.
We should probably see a therapist.
For what? Them to tell me I’m fucked? I already know that.
“We’ll order food, watch terrible movies, and pretend we’re not surrounded by rockstars for once.”
Sera’s laugh is soft but real—the kind that lights her whole face.
“That actually sounds…amazing.”
“See?” Mac nudges her shoulder playfully. “We’ll make it a thing. While the guys are off to soundcheck, we’ll be here, pampering and judging movie love interests.”
Logan smirks from across the counter.
“Judging love interests, huh?”
Mac shoots him a look that could melt ice.
“Don’t worry, babe. You’d still be my top pick.”
Chace groans.
“I feel like a grossed out younger brother with all this lovey-dovey shit.”
Time slides by too easily after that. The afternoon fades into gold and soft laughter. Empty beer bottles line the counter, and the smell of pizza lingers in the air. When the clock hits five, the easy comfort turns to motion—jackets, guitar cases, road bags by the door.
Sera is in the doorway, framed by the amber light, barefoot and holding Klaus by his collar.
“You’re sure it won’t be too late?” she asks, looking between me and Logan.
“Won’t be,” Logan promises, slipping an arm around Mac. “Quick soundcheck, one run-through, then back here.”
I nod, grabbing my keys, then reach for Sera’s hand.
“You sure you’re okay?”
She smiles, soft and calm. “I’ve got Mac and the dogs. Security out here. We’ll be fine.”
My gaze drops to where Artemis is standing at her side, muscles tense, golden eyes alert.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “You will.”
Sera squeezes my hand once before letting go.
“Go do what you do best, Mr. Baker.”
Pretty sure that’s making you cross-eyed and screaming my name… but I suppose playing my guitar comes a close second.
I lean in, letting my lips brush hers, slow, teasing, letting the pressure linger just long enough to make her shiver. My hand slides to her waist, thumb grazing the curve of her hip.
“I’d argue this…right here,” I murmur against her mouth, voice low and rough, “is what I do best.”
Her breath hitches, eyes molten, as if daring me to prove it. I press a little closer, feeling the pull between us, then pull back just enough to let her want it more.
Her lips curve into a shaky smile.
“Go,” she whispers, but I catch the little tremor in her voice.
“Pooches. Make sure Momma and Macaroni are safe—remove balls and snatches first.” I say it matter-of-factly, like they’ll obey. Sometimes, these dogs make me feel like an occasionally accepted interloper in my own house.
I give my Dove one last lingering look, letting the air between us sizzle before I finally step back and turn toward the car.