15. Jace
JACE
At some point during the night, we stop so our driver, Ozzie, can rest, but we’re back on the road by early morning. Layla only wakes once, but in the morning she’s up long before I’d like to haul my ass out of bed.
Around the time I hear her babbling in her crib, I realize there’s a warm body wrapped around me. My dick is hard and the loss of blood to my brain makes it difficult to think.
I sniff the woman’s hair. She smells warm like vanilla. I hug her and burrow my nose in her neck. “You smell good.” My voice is gruff from sleep.
She sighs and snuggles closer. “Thanks. You too. I like your cologne.”
I smile, about to drift off again, but something niggles at the back of my mind.
I’m not supposed to be doing this. I’m not supposed to want her. And I’m definitely not supposed to touch her even though my dick is ready and willing.
No sex, Jace. Especially not with her.
When it hits me a second later that I’m snuggling my wife, my eyes fly open just as Rory leaps backward, nearly falling on her ass. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I’m clearly on your side of the bed.”
The expression on her face makes me laugh. “I’m irresistible. It really isn’t your fault.” I tuck my arms behind my head, pleased she likes my cologne.
“Jace,” she hisses. “I basically mauled you in your sleep.”
I shrug. Her reaction makes me want it more for some reason.
“You have my permission to snuggle all you want.” I don’t want to think about how that’s a bad idea.
Rhett would call me a dumbass, and I’d have to agree.
But it’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman, I think I’m having withdrawals. Besides, can it really hurt to snuggle?
Rory looks scandalized.
And pretty damn cute, standing there with her hair in her face and wearing a dainty pajama set. I pegged her as a t-shirt and sweats kind of girl, but she’s wearing a camisole and some sleep shorts that hug her curves. Nice. Too nice.
“I’m…” She points to the bathroom, and I nod.
“Hey. Wife.” She freezes and turns to me, and I grin. “Mornin’.”
She rolls her eyes and smiles. “Good morning.”
Then she disappears into the bathroom while I try to get a hold of myself. Layla calls out, and I think about all the gross shit my brothers did when we were kids so my dick deflates. When it’s manageable, I swing my legs over the bed.
“Hey, ladybug. How’d you sleep, darlin’?” She’s clinging to the side of the crib, bouncing on her toes. I pick her up. “Are you hungry? Wanna eat?”
“Eeeeaaaat.”
“Good girl. Look at you. So smart.” I chuckle and kiss her cheek. “Let’s change your diaper and figure out breakfast.”
By the time I’m done getting her ready for the day, Rory emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered and smelling edible.
Wait. No, not edible.
Pleasant. Clean. Fresh. Those are neutral words, right?
Her cheeks are still stained pink.
“Rory, I told you. This morning ain’t a big deal.
Besides, we’re gonna have to hug and probably kiss again so people believe we’re married.
” I rub the back of my neck. “I was trying to find a way to tell you this, but label executives will be in Daytona, so we’re gonna have to at least pretend we’re more comfortable with each other. ”
Her eyes widen. “How do we do that?”
I almost laugh. “Babe, have you ever dated anyone?”
That’s the wrong thing to say because her expression flattens. “This might be hard for you to believe, but yes, Jace, I’ve dated. In fact, I had a serious boyfriend for years.”
Huh. Didn’t expect that. “Okay, so just pretend I’m him, and I’ll follow your lead.”
“Not a stretch,” she mutters as she makes her side of the bed.
I mull over her words. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you’ve always reminded me of my ex, and not in a good way.” She takes Layla from me and bounces her in her arms.
I rub my chin. “My family used to think you had a crush on me, but that’s not what was going on, was it?”
“Nope.”
This girl is like an artichoke. She’s prickly and has fifty layers. “So your ex was an asshole? And I remind you of him?”
“Winner, winner, chicken dinner.”
I chuckle and sling my arm around her shoulders. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re funny?”
“Never.”
“Well, you are. Just when I think you’re gonna zig, you zag.”
“Lucky me,” she deadpans as she grabs her glasses from the bedside table and slides them on. “While we’re on the topic of exes, what’s the deal with that girl Marlowe? Why do your bandmates act so weird about her?”
The shift in conversation catches me off guard. I let go of her and back away. “She’s just not someone I’m looking forward to seeing again.”
“So… she broke your heart?”
Pfft. “That’s a stretch. Gotta have a heart to break it, right?”
Her eyes go soft for some reason, and she chews on the inside of her cheek. “Would it help if your wife was really into you when you bumped into this person?”
I grin and tug on a strand of her hair. “Wouldn’t hurt.”
“Okay, if you forget I felt you up this morning, I’ll turn on the charm when we see your ex.”
“She’s not an ex. Just someone I ran around with for a while.”
Rory pushes her glasses up her nose. “Have you heard the saying ‘he doth protest too much?’ Actually, the original quote is ‘the lady doth protest too much,’ but whatever. It still applies.”
“You quoting Hamlet to me?”
Her brows lift. “You read it?”
“Nah, I watched the movie in high school, but it had some good lines in it. And okay, Marlowe took me for a ride, but I’m over it.”
Layla rests her head on Rory’s shoulder, and Rory turns and kisses her forehead. Then she reaches out and grabs my pinky with hers. “So let’s make her regret that ride.”
Then my little wife stalks off toward the lounge, not knowing how much I appreciate her being here for me.