Rock Chick Reckoning Page 135


Jane suspected Hector Chavez liked her hair too.

But he probably liked her curves better.

“Hel o.” Her soft voice sounded as her pretty eyes smiled.

Mm-hmm.

This was good.

Jane approved.

“Just looking,” Jane muttered, the woman tilted her head welcomingly toward the gal ery then Jane spent the next fifteen minutes pretending to look as she surreptitiously watched the blonde doing whatever she was doing behind her counter.

Then Jane bought three postcards that had prints on the front of art displayed in the gal ery. Postcards she would never use.

Then she left.

* * * * *

Jane waited for her computer to boot up as she turned on dim lighting around the room and lit a scented candle. Cotton flower.

Pretty and soothing.

Then she sat at her desk, moved her mouse and opened her word processing program.

Then she centered the cursor, turned on bold, set the font size at eighteen and typed.

Rock Chick.

Then she hit control at the same time she hit return, starting a new page, changed the font size to fourteen and typed.

Chapter One.

She hit return, turned off bold, turned on italics and changed the font size to twelve and typed.

The Great Liam Chase.

Then her eyes went fuzzy and her memory was swamped with the image of Liam Nightingale embracing his very soon-to-be wife in her angelic wedding dress prior to being declared man and wife.

Then Jane smiled.

Jane was a romantic and she felt the world needed to learn about this love affair.

She felt this because it was beautiful.

They al were.

Then she refocused on her monitor and started typing.

Epilogue

Get Out Here, Babe, I Wanna Kiss You

Ava

Five years later…

I was sitting, cross-legged, smack in the middle of Luke and my big bed.

I could hear Shirleen downstairs, talking to Gracie while Shirleen (and Gracie) banged around the kitchen.

I told Shirleen that she should come with us tonight but she wouldn’t. She’d fashioned herself into the Rock Chick version of Auntie Mame and it was clear her favorite of the Rock Chick/Hot Bunch progeny was, by far and away, Gracie. If Luke and I came home to find Gracie and Shirleen spirited away in the night with a note explaining that Shirleen had kidnapped her and would never return, I wouldn’t have been surprised. She loved that child nearly as much as Gracie’s father and I did.

It was lucky for Gracie, Shirleen had a lot of love to give and I was happy she wanted to give it to my daughter.

The shower turned off and my attention went to the door of the bathroom.

Within minutes, the door opened and Luke was there.

He was clean shaven and his hair, worn much longer now than the way he used to wear it when we first got together (that was to say it was thick, wavy and lush), was wet. He’d long since shaved off the kil er mustache he used to have much to my despair but with the time he spent with me, Gracie and at Nightingale Investigations, not to mention spending time at our cabin in Crested Butte (where, if we were there very long, which we were a lot these days, he’d usual y grow a beard) he said he didn’t have time for ‘tache maintenance.

He’d done his usual half-assed job at toweling off. There were droplets of water clinging to his beautiful shoulders were droplets of water clinging to his beautiful shoulders and perfectly formed, just hairy enough to be sexy as al hel chest and he had the towel wrapped around his waist.

“Towel off much?” I teased and his dark blue eyes sliced to me.

He stopped moving toward the dresser and one side of his mouth went up in a half-grin.

“Babe, get dressed. We’re gonna be late,” he ordered.

“We won’t be late. I’m total y ready.”

I watched as one of his dark eyebrows went up.

“You’re in a robe,” Luke pointed out.

“I just have to put on clothes,” I replied.

“And half a ton of silver.”

He was right about my silver. I stil wore a lot of silver jewelry even though Gracie was usual y tugging at my necklaces. I was constantly in danger of her choking me to death. She was like he-baby, she was so damned strong (that, she got from her father). Not to mention, she kept shoving my rings (while they were on my fingers) in her mouth and biting hard and that child had the jaws of death, kid you not, I should know, I nursed her. She was teething and the silver must feel cool on her gums so I didn’t mind (much, I was pretty sure one day I’d find the baby Gracie gum mark grooves in my rings cute).

I decided to change the subject to one I wanted to talk about.

Luke had made it to the dresser and was rooting through a drawer.

I winced as he rooted. Our drawers were painstakingly tidy. I liked them like that and put a lot of effort into it.

Everything folded neatly and organized by color or color combination or long-sleeved (then by color) and short-sleeved (then by color), etc. I had a system, a tidy system.

Luke didn’t do tidy and he wasn’t al that hot on any of my systems either, no matter how often I explained them to him (which was a lot).

I got over Luke’s ruthless rooting and asked his naked, muscular, sexily dotted with droplets of water back, “What do you think of the name Maisie?”

Luke’s body went completely stil . Then, very slowly, he turned to me and his eyes locked with mine.

“Repeat the question,” he demanded.

“You heard me,” I said softly.

Quick as a flash, Luke was across the room, I was flat on my back, he was on me and wrapping my legs around his hips.

“Luke!”

“Quiet,” he muttered as he yanked the towel away and then kept muttering, as if to himself, “Please God, don’t be wearing any underwear.”

I slapped his shoulder, “Luke, Shirleen is…” He kissed me to shut me up (he did this a lot).

When his mouth moved to my neck, I was breathing faster but I stil said, “We’re going to be late.”

“We’l be quick.”

“Luke, seriously…”

His head came up and his eyes caught mine and I went quiet at their intensity.

“You sayin’ you’re havin’ my baby?”

I nodded.

His face went soft and, just as soft, he said, “Then we’re celebrating.”

I smiled at him. There was no denying Luke when he was in the mood to celebrate (not that I’d want to).

“Okay,” I whispered.

He kissed me again.

I kissed him back.

* * * * *

Sometime later, we were both yanking on our clothes, way late, and Shirleen was shouting up the stairs for us to get a move on. “You never said what you thought about the name Maisie,” I said to Luke.

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