Face the Music

by Salsbury, JB

  She doesn’t answer me verbally, but she does one better by pressing her lips against mine. “You’re a great man, Ben Langley.”

  Before I can tell her she’s wrong, she kisses me again, this time deeper. I run my hands up her back and through her hair, gripping the golden locks in my fists, tilting her head, and kissing her for every second we wasted apart, for every moment of her doubt and every hour of sleep lost to regret.

  Our hands don’t grope. My hips don’t move to create the kind of friction we’d both usually crave. Instead we drown in each other as we allow this kiss the power to communicate what words could never do justice to.

  My head swims, and I’m dizzy with the knowledge that Ashleigh is mine and that God would allow me another chance at a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love.

  She breaks the kiss and slips off my lap, but I don’t let her go easily. She takes my hand and leads me to the bed, pulls back the comforter and sheet, and puts her knees on the mattress. I kick off my shoes and follow her under, where I pull her to my chest.

  My arms tighten around her. “Is there anything else we need to talk about tonight?”

  The tension in her muscles melts away. She nuzzles in closer, throwing her leg over mine and her arm over my stomach. “I have nothing else to say. You know everything now.”

  I’m thankful she can’t see my face, or she’d see the hesitation and nervousness I feel when I ask, “Are you sure there’s not one more thing you want to tell me?”

  I may have hidden the insecurity of my expression, but I couldn’t keep it from my voice. I expect her to tease me by saying, “Yep, I’m sure.”

  But she shocks me when she crawls over my body, putting her lips to mine but not kissing me. Instead, she brushes her nose against mine. “I love you. You are the first man I have ever been in love with, and I plan on loving you forever.” She seals her words with a kiss to my frozen lips. She pulls back, studies me, and smirks. “You weren’t expecting that, were you?”

  I slide my hands up her back and finally find my voice. “You gave me much more than I was hoping for. Now bring me your lips so I can kiss you back.”

  She does, and we kiss until our lips are numb and neither of us can wipe the smile off of our faces.

  “I love you too, Ash.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Ashleigh

  The house is still dark when I tiptoe past closed doors I assume hold a sleeping Ben and Elliot, then down the stairs into the kitchen.

  Ben and I kissed for hours last night before he turned off the light, pulled me to his chest, and told me to sleep. I was surprised, after our emotional reunion, that he didn’t try to take things further. He didn’t put his hands on my breasts or slip one between my legs. The most he did was grip my backside and groan, which I loved. The one time I reached for his belt, he covered his hand with mine and whispered, “Not tonight.”

  At first, I was frustrated. I mean, Ben could heat this entire mansion all winter with the fire his kisses provoke. My entire body was practically vibrating with need. But as he continued to kiss me, that frantic desire dug roots and settled into something heavier and thrilling. A desperate longing and anticipation for what’s to come.

  At some point, I fell asleep, and when I woke up, the other side of the bed was cold. Ben had left. I’m sure he had to tend to Elliot, but I thought maybe he’d come back after she was asleep. Unless he thought about what I’d told him and changed his mind?

  The downward spiral of those thoughts kept me up for most of the night and eventually brought me to the kitchen, where I’m waiting for my cup of coffee to finish brewing. I grab the warm cup and head to the overstuffed chairs that overlook Los Angeles. I wish I could focus on the way the morning sun is lighting the city, but instead I’m overthinking everything.

  Ben said he loves me.

  Ben won’t have sex with me.

  He said he’d never let me go.

  But he left the bed and never came back.

  I close my eyes and hope I didn’t spook him with the story of my abortions. He really seemed okay with my past. If only I could read his mind, then I’d know what—

  “What the hell is going on here?” Jesse whisper-hisses from behind me.

  I twist around, resting my chin on the back of the chair. He’s wearing black pajama bottoms and no shirt, his black hair a mess all over his head. His tall, lean, tattooed frame is different from Ben’s thick, inkless, muscled torso.

  “Good morning to you, sunshine.”

  He props his hands on his hips. “You’re supposed to have been fucked into a coma last night, not sitting down here at the ass-crack of dawn without a single rug-burn. Unless… are they on your ass?”

  “No.”

  He squints and studies my arms. “Huh, your elbows aren’t scabbed up, chin’s clean. What the fuck did you guys do all night?” He gasps. “Wait, you guys made up, right?”

  I sip my coffee. “Yes.”

  Jesse brews himself a cup of joe then meets me by the window, taking the chair next to me. He leans back, props an ankle on the opposite knee, and waits for me to continue.

  “I’m in love with your brother.”

  “No shit. So why don’t you look wrecked and dehydrated from all the make-up sex you two had last night?”

  “We didn’t have sex.”

  “Why not?”

  I can’t help but smile at his obvious confusion. “I don’t know. I would’ve been game for it, but he wasn’t putting out the sex signals, so I followed his lead.”

  He drops his head back. “That fuckin’ guy.”

  “It’s possible he can’t get over what I told him.”

  “About the abortion?”

  Now it’s my turn to pick my jaw off the floor. “How did you know about that?”

  He lifts his brows.

  “Bethany,” I grumble.

  “In her defense, I had to guess, and she has a terrible poker face.”

  “She really does.” It hits me then that I’m openly talking about something I’ve felt shame and agony over since I was seventeen years old. Maybe it’s because between the four of us, Jesse is most like me. If we opened our closets and compared skeletons, I think we’d have an equal number of regrets.

  “But you’re in love with him?”

  A long sigh drips from my lips. “So much. Yes.”

  The rock star flashes his megawatt smile that reminds me a lot of his brother’s. “Good.”

  The sound of footsteps on wood flooring have us both turning around in time to see Ben, deliciously fresh from sleep, come into the kitchen. My pulse kicks and butterflies let loose in my stomach. He’s wearing sweatpants (swoon) and a thin white undershirt that looks a half size too small, mainly around his biceps, shoulders, and chest. He freezes at the sight of Jesse and me. Ben’s eyes fix on me, and a grin stretches across his face.

  I swallow hard. “Good morning.”

  His bare feet move again, bringing his tall body to me. He hooks me around the neck to lift my face to his, and he plants the softest, sweetest, slowest kiss on my lips.

  “Good morning, Ash.” His thumb runs along my cheek absently. “How’d you sleep?” His eyes sparkle in the pink, early morning light.

  I hold his hand to my face and grin. “Great, until I woke up alone.”

  My answer seems to please him. He kisses me again.

  “I’m having serious doubts about you even having a dick, bro.”

  Ben chuckles, releases me, and heads to the coffee. “I’d never expect you to understand the value of abstinence, Jes.”

  Jesse sips his coffee. “Damn straight. Seems like a waste of time to me.”

  Ben turns around, props his perfectly round ass against the cupboards, and sips his coffee. His eyes stay on me. “Is this what you two have been discussing over your morning coffee?”

  “No,” I say.

  “Yes,” Jesse says at the same time.

  I hide behind my coffee mug. “I mean, it’s not the only
thing we talked about.”

  Ben laughs. The dark rumbling sound washes over me and—whoa, right between my legs. I squirm in my seat. Ben tilts his head, studying me, and smirks. Does he know how restless I am? As if he could read my thoughts, he comes to me, holds out his hand to pull me out of my seat, then sits and pulls me gently to his lap. I wiggle my ass a little, making him groan under his breath, and now it’s me giving him a knowing smirk.

  “So? She loves you. You obviously love her. You’re not a pastor anymore.” Jesse’s looking at us as if we’re some kind of experiment he’s using to test a theory. “What’s the hang-up on the sex?”

  I don’t know the answer to that. I’m just as eager to hear what Ben has to say, so I look at him expectantly.

  He clears his throat, and a tiny blush paints his cheeks. “I don’t think this is a conversation you need to be included in, Jes.”

  His brother pushes up, heads to refill his cup, and fills a second, I assume for Bethany. “Fine by me. I’ll wait to hear it secondhand, after Ash tells Bethany and she tells me.” He holds up his mug. “Cheers.”

  Jesse walks around the corner, and his heavy footfalls sound up the stairs.

  Ben and I sip our coffee, his free hand running up and down my back. I want to curl up in his lap and stay there forever. He leans over me to set down his mug, then he takes my mug and places it next to his. With nothing to do with my hands, I ball them up in my lap.

  “You’re wondering why I put the brakes on in your bed last night.”

  “I’m not complaining, but it’s not…” How do I say this? “What I’m used to.”

  “I know.” He puts his big warm palm on my thigh. “And how did those sexual encounters leave you feeling?”

  I lift a brow. “Pastor Langley, are you therapizing me?”

  He smiles but doesn’t laugh. “Not a pastor anymore. And yes, kind of.”

  I blow out a breath and try to think back to the last time I had sex. “Satisfied. Empty.” I frown. “Kind of… alone. Used. But also in control.”

  He nods. “Ashleigh.”

  I didn’t realize my gaze had dropped to my lap until he said my name. My eyes snap to his, which are filled with acceptance.

  “When I make love to you, I want to leave you feeling adored, and full, and cherished. I want our first time to feel new and fresh, like no other sexual experience you’ve had before.”

  His words shouldn’t turn me on, and yet… I bite my lip to keep from moaning.

  “I want you feeling completely out of control—your emotions, your pulse, your breath. I want you crazy, but most of all, I want you to feel safe in my arms, free to let go, and comforted in the knowledge that you won’t be sneaking out in the middle of the night, needing your own car, leaving to sleep in a different bed…”

  My breath hitches.

  “Do you understand what I’m saying?” he asks. “When we make love, and we will make love, we’ll do it as—”

  “Husband and wife.” I cover my mouth, surprised the words came from my lips and a little nervous in case I’m wrong.

  His expression softens. He pulls me close until our lips are almost touching, our eyes locked. “Yes. As husband and wife.”

  Seconds pass, maybe even minutes, and all I feel is his hot, minty-coffee breath against my lips, his hard body cradling mine.

  “Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved, with honor, respect, and patience. It’s not that I don’t want to make love to you now.” He closes his eyes. “I really do.” When he opens them, he’s intensely focused on me. “But I want to show you that you are well worth the wait. That unlike other men, I’m in love with your heart, your mind, and your soul—not just the pleasure your body can give mine. I want to earn your trust, earn the honor of sinking into you and pulling pleasure from you. I’m in love with you, Ash. And eventually, I want you to marry me.”

  I don’t even have to think, my answer is immediate. “Yes.”

  I’m swallowed in his powerful arms, and he buries his face in my neck. “That was a quick answer.” His voice cracks with emotion.

  I’m trying really hard not to cry, but my eyes burn as I hug him back. “I’m sorry, it just slipped out.”

  He squeezes me tighter. “As long as you mean it.”

  “I mean it. I want to marry you.” I pull back and wipe my face. “Wait, what about Elliot?”

  “Elliot loves you. She’ll be excited. But let’s keep our plans to ourselves until I can ask you properly.”

  “Are you kidding?” I swipe my cheeks. “That was perfect.”

  He shakes his head. “You are so clueless when it comes to what you deserve. That’s all right. I’ll show you.”

  “So, um, do we have, like, a timeline? I gave up my apartment. I don’t have plans to go back to Surprise, and I’m sure you—”

  His finger presses to my lips to silence me. “We’ll figure it out. For now, let’s just enjoy being together.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ben

  Five days later, Elliot and I took a knee on the rocks of El Matador Beach in front of Bethany and Jesiah, and we asked Ashleigh to be part of our lives forever. Of course my woman cried and hugged Elliot until they both were sobbing in my arms.

  Our timeline turned out to be short.

  Twenty-four days after I asked Ashleigh to be my wife, we stood in front of a minister in Jesiah’s sprawling backyard with a few dozen of our favorite people. Ashleigh’s parents declined the invitation, claiming it was too short notice, even though I offered to fly them both ways and get their hotel. I decided it was best they didn’t come, or I may have lost my temper and ruined our special day. But Donna and Stormie came out, along with my brother’s band and their wives and children. Even Chris showed up, still walking with a cane but looking better than he did when I saw him last.

  We said our vows with Elliot holding Ashleigh’s hand, then we were pronounced man and wife.

  For the second time in my life, I had a wife.

  And as she stared at me, her simply made up face, hair hanging loose around her bare shoulders, and her white wedding gown hugging her curves, I had a moment of splitting guilt. A realization that in order to have Ashleigh, I had to lose Maggie. In life, Maggie gave me her heart for as long as it beat. In her final breath, she gave me our daughter. And years later, she brought me my Ashleigh.

  At our reception, Ashleigh’s hand finds mine under the table and she squeezes it. I turn to her and lean over, kissing her and using my tongue right there in front of everyone.

  She breaks the kiss, her cheeks flushed. “Don’t try to sidetrack me with thoughts of sex when we haven’t even cut the cake yet.”

  I kiss her again, deeper this time, and the people around us laugh and cheer. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I want you.”

  “Are you all right?” she says softly. Her eyes shine with loving concern.

  “Never better, babe.”

  It’s the truth. I knew today would be hard, I knew it would be bittersweet, that memories of Maggie would come flooding in when I least expected it, but Ashleigh has been amazing. She’s held my hand, offering me her strength through her continuous show of love and support. I couldn’t have picked a more perfect person to share the rest of my life with.

  “I can’t wait to get you alone,” I say.

  We’ve been making out every single chance we could get, but we’ve managed to keep our hands above the belt and the tension has just about killed us both.

  “We could sneak away.”

  The thought of getting my new wife naked only to have to get her dressed again is a more depressing thought than never getting her naked at all.

  “Once I get you in bed, I’m never letting you out.”

  “Promise?”

  I groan and think about guitar chords to keep from imagining us naked together.

  “The album releases next month, then we go on tour. I hope you guys are ready.” Brent, the tour manager for Jesiah’s band,
lifts his whiskey glass.

  Oh yeah, and there’s the other development. I’m the new guitar player-slash-songwriter for Jesse Lee. After Arienfield Records heard my songs, they offered me the job. I did a lot of thinking and even more praying and decided to officially join the band. Turns out, now that Jesiah and I have been spending more time together, I can’t imagine going years without seeing him.

  And Ashleigh, well, she’s figured out what she wants to do with her life. She wants to go work for a pregnancy resource center. I suggested she open one. A center that will offer free counseling, prenatal care, and abortion and adoption counseling where she can use her experiences to help young girls who are alone and pregnant without guidance. I offered to help fund the organization, but my wife insists on fundraising, along with Bethany’s help.

  My wife.

  “I’m ready.” I turn to the new Mrs. Langley. “Are you?”

  “So ready.” She winks. “I already have my slutty groupie clothes packed.”

  “You’re a Jesse Lee groupie?”

  “I have a thing for the guitarist.”

  I pull her in and kiss her hard. “He has a thing for you too.”

  She holds up her ring finger, flashing the vintage ring she picked out in one of the upscale antique shops in LA. “Yeah, I kinda figured.”

  We finally cut the cake, and the dance floor is full for the rest of the night. Ashleigh and I slow dance to the last few songs, no matter the tempo. My hands at her back, hers at my neck and her fingers running through my hair, we move together to the seductive beat of our hearts.

  Lost in Ashleigh’s eyes and the softness of her body, I lose track of time. I nearly growl when Jes taps me on the shoulder.

  He says, “Your ride is here.”

  I practically feel Ashleigh’s pulse speed up, along with my own. “Are you ready to get out of here, Mrs. Ashleigh Langley?”

  She closes her eyes and melts into my chest at the sound of her new name. “I’d follow you anywhere.”