Chapter 19
ANGEL
Over the next few weeks, I buried myself in studio sessions with my Six Sinners brothers, escaping the confusing entanglement of my home life.
Our major new single, ‘Roar of Life,’ was generating massive global numbers on Spotify and climbing the Billboard charts.
The immediate excitement meant the label called all the bandmates into duty to work the spin carousel.
The publicity machine morphed into a beast, churning out narratives about Roxy and my whirlwind romance.
We suspected Di of whipping up the media frenzy.
All of a sudden, alongside news of our song release, the press was dissecting our wedding and the honeymoon in Capri across every gossip blog in the country.
The world saw a talented, sophisticated painter married to Six Sinners rock royalty.
I played along with the charade, wearing the devoted husband mask to avoid spooking Reese while my legal team tore through his financial background.
Meanwhile, Roxy and I endured the blinding glare of red-carpet flashbulbs, four o’clock morning network television sets, and live local affiliate feeds, smiling through it all.
The constant upkeep of our public image as a loved-up power couple left us exhausted.
Our annoyance at Reese grew wider with every fake smile we flashed for the cameras.
In private, I treated Roxy with meticulous care and politeness.
Our domestic life was a friendly, sometimes awkward partnership.
We ate meals together, binged TV shows, and spent weekends with Jude and Sofia and the Six Sinners family.
No matter how civil we got, our attraction and sensual energy never quite went away, from shared heated glances to brushes of our hands and yearning alone in bed.
However, I still resisted the desire to drag her into my primary and make love the way we did in Capri.
Sleeping with her ripped open my heart, and now it remained torn in two.
I needed no pressure to deal with my grief from my wrecked romance with Evangeline before I could consider the new future Roxy embodied.
I had to keep reminding myself that she wasn’t Evangeline.
However, it’d take time before I trusted any woman with my heart again.
Despite my reticence, I respected Roxy for her levelheadedness, grace, and artistry.
I sang her praises on the radio, TV, and social media, and soon her art sales were through the roof.
That said, I still needed time to heal, and given the gorgeous woman she was, she never pushed me, which took the pressure off and let me decide on my own time.
One morning, after Roxy left for work, I wandered the house, not quite getting into my music yet, restless, my mind on my wife.
I wanted to show her my appreciation for her patience.
The answer hit me while I stared at an empty wall in my studio.
I showered, dressed, and headed downtown to Art Nouveau, the fine art gallery she managed and where she exhibited her own work.
The glass front doors jingled as I stepped inside, searching for her.
I found Roxy in the middle of the exhibition space adjusting a frame.
Her two assistants at reception froze as I prowled in and raised my chin to them.
I caught them whispering in excitement behind my back, staring at me in awe as I crossed the polished concrete floor in my leather jacket, ripped denim jeans, and boots.
My gaze fell on the enticing skin peeking above Roxy’s off-shoulder black-and-white striped dress.
Her feet were in high black heels with a red tip.
It was a simple ensemble but stunning nonetheless.
Without thinking, I bent and kissed her on her nape.
She jolted and whirled around, ready to unleash violence.
‘Angel, honey,’ Roxy said, her face shifting from annoyance to warmth as she spotted me.
The endearment sent a jolt through me.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Came to see your world, beautiful,’ I said, tugging her close for a quick hug that surprised even me.
‘For real?’
I arched a brow.
‘As bona fide as it gets. Give me a tour of the place, treat me as you would a paying client.’
Her delight showed as she beamed at me.
She guided me past several canvases, explaining the different artists and techniques.
We stopped at the rear wall, and my stride halted.
The piece was one of hers: a graphite drawing of a young woman’s face, so evocative it sent a lurch through me.
The image so resembled Roxy that it sent a lurch through me.
‘Who is it?’
‘It’s inspired by an old photo I found in my grandmother’s house after she passed. I think it’s her when she was about 18.’
‘Stunning.’
The textured shading and intricate lines captured an emotion that captivated me.
I cleared my throat, turning to her.
‘I’ll take it.’
Roxy blinked, her jaw dropping.
‘What? Angel, you don’t have to do that.’
‘It’ll be perfect in the studio, right?’ I asked.
She smiled, her eyes softening. ‘That’s the ideal spot, actually. It’s one space we’ve yet to fill.’
Seeing the pure joy she experienced as I connected with her art filled my chest.
It felt like a massive win.
‘It’s on show for another week,’ she told me, touching my arm. ‘I can put a hold on it, and we can collect it when the exhibition ends.’
‘Of course, beautiful,’ I said, sliding my credit card out. ‘I’ll pay full price today.’
I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple.
My attention shifted to a smaller, textured piece hanging right beside it, a chaotic canvas of shadowed acrylics and strokes that also resembled music notes.
‘You know what? Wrap that one up too,’ I said, pointing to the second surface. ‘I’m putting it in the downtown recording studio.’
Roxy let out a soft laugh. ‘Honey, you’re wiping out my inventory in one afternoon.’
‘I like what I like, woman,’ I said.
We sauntered back to the counter where I handed my card to one of the starstruck assistants behind the desk. ‘I happen to love your work.’
I signed the receipt, and then I pulled Roxy into my chest and gave her a slow squeeze.
‘See you tonight, gorgeous,’ I murmured, kissing the crown of her head before turning toward the glass doors.
I prowled out into the afternoon heat, leaving her staring after me with a massive beam on her face.
I’d made her day, and that was all that mattered.
It hit me that making her smile was becoming a freakin’ priority for me and that Roxy, despite it all, was growing on me.
Maybe if I opened my heart to the possibilities, we’d find what we shared was deeper than we both thought.
Serendipity soon knocked on my door when Mason called us into a meeting at the studio later that afternoon.
‘We’ve got an opportunity to amp up the new album; we’ve been asked to headline the Cannes amFAR ball.’
‘Dawg?’ Reign drawled.
‘Indeed, even better, the label’s covering the cost and wives are welcome,’ Mason added, giving Jude a pointed look.
‘Sweet,’ Jude grinned, for he hated traveling anywhere these days without his woman.
‘Oy, I’ve got a wife too,’ I groused. ‘Can she come?’
Mason huffed, ‘Wasn’t sure, man, whether you’re open to traveling with her given -.’
His voice trailed off as I arched my brow.
‘I’m game, and I’m sure Rox will be too,’ I murmured to everyone’s surprise, even my own. ‘Brothers, yes, we’ve had quite the journey, but she’s amazing.’
She was.
Maybe this was a chance for Roxy and me to re-explore our connection.
‘So you’ll bring her?’ Bishop pushed.
It hit me then: I really wanted her with me.
‘Hell yeah, if she wants to come,’ I drawled, hoping against all hope she’d agree.
ROXY
The night after Angel visited my gallery, we ate dinner together on the patio.
The cool Nashville evening air was redolent of the rich aroma of roasted garlic, seared lamb, and charred rosemary.
It blended with the ocean breeze blowing through our open terrace doors.
Angel sliced into his meat and chewed, sitting back with a thoughtful expression.
Resting his fork on the rim of his plate, his eyes locked onto mine across the table.
We were still feeling our way around each other with every conversation, but the savage attraction between us simmered with each look.
His visit to the gallery still made me burst with happiness, and every time his eyes lingered on my mouth, my pulse did a reckless little jump.
‘The band got booked for the amfAR gala at the Cannes Film Festival,’ he rasped. ‘Wanna come, babe?’
‘For real?’ I murmured.
‘As a heart attack. Can you take the time off work?’
A smile broke across my face. ’ I’ve got quite a bit of holiday accrual. I’ll ask Toni, the gallery owner; she should be OK. As long as I’m not the only woman on the jaunt.’
‘Sofia’s coming too,’ Angel added, leaning back in his chair with a quirk to his mouth that sent a pleasant shiver straight down my spine. ‘We’re plugging the new album, so get ready for a wild ride.’
The thought of escaping to Europe with Angel, Sofia and the rest of the band sounded heavenly.
The next morning, after confirming with Toni I could book in the time away, I dialed Sofia’s number.
‘Tell me you’re already packing,’ I demanded the second she answered.
‘I’m looking at three open suitcases on my bedroom floor right now,’ Sofia laughed back, her voice bright with excitement. ‘We’re going to drink champagne on the French Coast, shop until our cards melt, and ignore all the men altogether and their label meetings. This is OUR trip, girlfriend!’
‘I’m so happy you’re coming with,’ I told her, leaning on the marble counter in the kitchen as a surge of affection for Sofia swept through me.
She was now more of a real sister to me than Evangeline, I thought, as we chatted and planned for the whirlwind excursion.
Two days later, the Knight One Gulfstream private jet cut through the clouds above the Mediterranean.
The cabin, packed with the band, Sofia, Mason, Bluey, the band’s sound tech, and me, was luxurious and well-appointed.
We settled in, sipping fresh espresso and nibbling from the snacks the crew brought around.
Jude and Sofia snuggled in one of the double front seats while Reign, Deacon, Levi, Bishop, Mason, and our Bluey argued over poker hands in the back.
Angel sat beside me, stretching his long legs across the aisle.