To Cherish and To Hold (Love of a Rockstar #1.5)

by Nicole Simone

  “Don’t be fooled. There is a man whore underneath that niceness.”

  It sounded as if Luke was jealous, which I couldn’t help but be pleased by. Normally, the green-eyed monster attacked me, not him.

  My mouth spread into a Cheshire-cat grin. “You’re cute when you get envious.”

  “Yeah?” He grabbed my hips as his eyes darkened. “I’ll show you how cute I am.”

  I gulped at his predatory stare. “Where’s Nil?”

  “She’s taking a nap.”

  “Then we should talk.”

  Luke pressed his finger against my lips, shutting me up. “Enough talking. All we do is talk.” He pointed in the direction of the bedroom. “Walk.”

  A shot of lust blossomed between my thighs as I followed his orders. Once my feet crossed the threshold, he kicked the door closed. My bottom plopped on the side of the bed.

  Luke discarded his t-shirt on the floor, exposing his tanned torso. I watched him stalk toward me, more than willing to be his prey. He gently shoved my shoulders backwards onto the mattress. Looming over me, our gazes locked and the world ceased to exist.

  “Can I say something?” I asked.

  “What?”

  He planted a trail of kisses against my neck, ending on the sweet spot below my ear. A half moan, half sigh escaped my lips and my brain cells short-circuited.

  “I forgot,” I said.

  “Then my plan is working.”

  Luke reached into the nightstand to grab a condom. Gasping and reeling with lust, my fingers tugged at his belt loops. He glanced over at me.

  “We don’t need those. Come back here,” I demanded.

  “You will regret that in the morning.”

  “No I won’t.”

  Luke’s eyebrows scrunched together, puzzled. Dropping the p-bomb in the middle of foreplay had to be the worst way to announce that he would be a dad. I had to think of a distraction. Unhooking my bra, a cold breeze from the open window caressed my bare breasts. I pinched my nipples between my thumbs, giving Luke my best come hither glance. His eyes hooded over with lust.

  “I want to feel you with nothing between us,” my voice purred.

  Luke discarded the box as he rolled onto his back. He quickly kicked off his pants followed by his boxer shorts. My blood heated as I stared openly at his impressive length. I’m one lucky woman.

  “Are you going to admire it or fuck it?” Luke chided.

  “Such a dirty mouth.”

  Crawling on top of him, my hand closed around his hard shaft. He sucked in a breath as I pumped upwards. My mouth was added to the equation and Luke’s head fell backwards into the pillows. A string of unintelligible words shattered the silence. The effect I had on him was intoxicating. My tongue swirled around the tip of his penis like a lollipop. A pointer learned from the pages of Cosmopolitan magazine. Luke’s fingers tangled into my hair and jerked my head from his lap.

  He spoke in broken English. “Now. Inside you.”

  I lifted my hips and began to guide him into my slick and waiting heat. Drowning in the sensation, it took me a moment to notice Luke’s hands on my ass, preventing me from going further.

  “Too fast?” I asked.

  “Tell me the truth. Why don’t we need condoms?”

  “Really?”

  Luke’s gaze remained steady, which meant he was dead serious. I attempted to squirm out of his grasp but he moved his hands to my waist. The man had freakishly strong hands.

  “This isn’t fair,” I moaned.

  “Life isn’t fair. Now tell me why don’t we need condoms?”

  My bag of diversions had been emptied and with his iron clad determination. There wasn’t an exit in sight. Damnit! Why did I say anything? I should have let him use a condom but the difference—oh my God.

  “Marlene!” Luke snapped.

  “I’m pregnant!”

  “What?!”

  Scrambling to an upright position, he shoved me to the side. I landed on my stomach and puffed my hair out of my eyes.

  “You’re pregnant?” Luke echoed. “When? How?”

  “I would have thought you had the sex talk by now but….”

  “I’m serious, Marlene.” He pinned me to the wall with his gaze. “This is serious.”

  “Fine. When you take cough medicine it has a chance of interfering with your birth control so….”

  He finished my sentence with something that sounded like wonder. “So I’m going to be a dad?”

  “Yes. We’re going to be parents for the second time.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  A weight lifted off my shoulders as the revealed secret drifted in the air between us. Luke shoved the sheets aside and tugged on a pair of sweatpants. He also grabbed a robe, throwing it to where I lay.

  “This conversation deserves clothes,” he said.

  “Why don’t we take advantage of the situation instead and talk after?”

  “You’re pregnant, Marlene. Do you understand that?”

  My chances of having an orgasm dwindled before my eyes. I slipped my arms into the silk robe and tied the sash around my waist.

  Luke burned a hole in the hardwood floors as he paced. His hair looked tousled, his baby blues wild. Strangely, when Luke became frantic, I got calm. We were like ying and yang, always balancing each other out.

  I sat crossed legged on the bed. “Are you happy, excited, or…?”

  “This changes everything. The date of the wedding, my tour.”

  “I have thought about that and if my calculations are correct, I’ll only be fourteen weeks pregnant once the wedding rolls around. My dress might have to be loosened a bit, but that’s all.”

  Luke tugged his fingers through his hair. “And the tour?”

  “You should go. It’s important to you.”

  He skidded to a halt and arched an eyebrow in disbelief. Laughing, I threw a pillow at his head. He ducked at the last minute before it hit him.

  “I’m not that much of a bitch,” I said. “Your dreams are my dreams. If you miss being a musician, then go on a smelly tour bus with your band mates. Maybe then, those damn groupies will get off my lawn.”

  “But I can’t leave you in your second trimester. What if something happens?”

  “Nothing will happen and if it does, I’ll call Camille, my grandmother, or my mom. There’s a support system in my place for me here, just like it was five years ago.”

  Whenever our past came up, Luke’s luscious lips turned downwards at the corners. The wounds of his actions as a young immature boy were still fresh and I had a hunch, they would never heal because he wouldn’t let them. Luke had whispered one night two months ago that he wished I’d punished him further. He thought he got off too easy. Maybe that’s true, but missing the first part of Nil’s life was greater than any punishment I could give him.

  “Come here,” I beckoned.

  He crawled onto the duvet and laid his head in my lap. “I want to be that support system.”

  “You are, and you will be even on the road. We can have daily Skype calls where I’ll flash you my growing belly and most likely, tons of phone calls to complain about my symptoms.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “No but we will make do Luke. We always have.” My palm tenderly stroked his cheek. “I didn’t fall in love with Luke Anderson, the rock star. I fell in lust with the hot lead singer of a punk band, then in love with the goof who sings in the shower and wears socks to bed. You are my best friend, my soul mate, and the father to my children. Whatever comes our way, we are in this together for the long haul.”

  Luke tilted his chin up. A smile that could light up the state of Texas decorated his face. I leaned down and kissed him on the mouth. He deepened the embrace, nibbling gently on my lower lip. He tasted like red wine and chocolate cake, my favorite dessert.

  When we spilt apart, he spoke. “You are an amazing woman, Marlene Parker. I don’t deserve you.”


  “Stop. You deserve me like I deserve you. Who else would put up with our weird quirks?”

  “Like not being able to sleep with the pillow facing outwards?”

  “Or having a tolerance to hot sauce that is inhuman?”

  Luke laughed. “Guess you are right. We do deserve each other.” His fingers grazed my bare stomach. “When did you find out?”

  “A couple of days ago in the Rite Aid bathroom. When that pink line showed up, you should have seen how freaked out I was. Camille thought I got arrested.”

  “You called her?”

  “Yeah, she dropped what she was doing and came rushing over.”

  Luke scrambled to a sitting position. A storm blazed behind his blue eyes.

  Baffled at the sudden shift in mood, I almost convinced myself my mind was playing tricks.

  His tone tense, he spoke. “She knew before me?”

  “Yeah, but it’s not a huge deal.”

  “It’s not a huge deal?!” He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Nil’s room. Once he was sure she wouldn’t waddle into our bedroom, he lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “You told your best friend before me. I’m the father. I should know first.”

  Luke sounded like a toddler, claiming ownership over a toy—if a toy was a baby, that is. Nevertheless, I saw the merit behind his point but it hadn’t occurred to me a chain of who should know first existed, or that it mattered.

  “I didn’t want this pregnancy to color your decision about going on tour,” I said.

  “So what? You were going to wait until I came back?”

  “No.”

  “Then what could possibly be your reason?”

  My hands twisted in my lap. Luke would be devastated if I told him that my doubts stemmed from him. That for a God-awful minute I’d second-guessed how far we’d come as a couple. That I was stuck in the past until Mathew had shed light on the present.

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry. You are right—I should have called you first. I’m just so used to being on my own that it’s going to be awhile before that changes.”

  “Fine, I understand that, but do you know what really stings?” He continued on without waiting for an answer. “You stole that moment from me. The waiting on pins and needles for those two pink lines to show up, the excitement, the nausea, and the overwhelming joy when it does. All those emotions you experience together as a couple, you gave away to Camille.”

  Tears brimmed in my eyes at the pain in his gaze. I wanted to rewind time, but that wasn’t possible. The only thing left to do was beg for forgiveness.

  Getting on my knees, I steepled my hands in a plea. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We can do it again. I’ll get another test. That’s what I’ll do! And we can experience everything you described.”

  “I don’t want some manufactured bullshit. Christ, Marlene.”

  With another sad-eyed look, he opened the bedroom door and left me with my regrets.

  The basement underneath the house had been turned into a music studio when Luke moved in. It was his version of a man cave. He had retreated down there since our fight—three hours ago. The longest three hours of my life.

  Without cell phone reception, there wasn’t a chance of contacting him either. Transferring the frozen pie dough to the refrigerator, I dumped a pound of apples into a bowl. I vigorously peeled and sliced them into chunks before tossing them into a scorching pan with brown butter and cinnamon. I breathed in the nostalgic smell of the holidays when the world glittered.

  “Mommy!” Nil cried, skittering into the kitchen. Her blonde hair tangled into a mess of knots. “Can we go to the art museum?”

  “Not today sweetheart. Mommy has work to do.”

  She responded with a blank look as if she didn’t understand what I said. Laughing, my foot nudged the step stool closer to me.

  “Come here,” I said. “You can watch how apples become apple pie.”

  “I’m ok, thanks though.”

  With the attitude of a teenager, she sauntered back to her bedroom. That girl would be the death of me. Once caramelized, I finished the apples off with a squeeze of lemon. The crumble would be made the week before the wedding.

  The sound of the front door clicking open was followed by my grandmother’s voice. “Marlene? Yahoo!”

  I peeked my head around the doorframe. She stood in my living room, sporting a fresh tan from her vacation in Mexico and an inner honeymoon glow.

  Wiping my hands on a dishtowel, I went to greet her. “Hey, you look nice.”

  “Thanks, darling! It was so incredible.” She pressed her palm against her chest. “The white sand beaches, the crystal clear ocean, and the drinks! They never stopped flowing. I haven’t gotten drunk in God knows how long and completely forgot how fun it is.”

  “And your husband?”

  My grandmother grinned wickedly. “My husband is going to need another week to recover.”

  I blanched at the images her statement conjured. While I was happy my grandmother had found her soul mate, their sex life wasn’t a topic I wanted to cover.

  She patted my arm. “Trust me, sweetheart. It gets better with age.”

  “Awesome, Grandma,” my tone seeped in sarcasm. “Are you glad to be home?”

  “I am. Bill’s farm needs a woman’s touch. I’m going with a rustic cottage look. Creamy yellows, gray blues and salvaged wood.”

  “Sounds pretty.”

  “It will be, but poor Bill had no idea what he was in for when he married me. He is just the sweetest though, and has the patience of a saint. I’m lucky a woman.”

  “He’s a lucky man.” I directed us to the couch, where we sat on the worn cushions. “So any particular reason you stopped by?”

  “The seating arrangement for your wedding. Your mother is treating it like it’s the Bill of Rights or something.” She dug around in her purse. Pulling out a pair of reading glasses, she perched them on her nose and opened a two ring binder. In bold letters on the front it read, Luke and Marlene’s wedding. She flipped to the section color coded in red.

  “Go fetch Luke.” My grandmother ordered. “This has to be done today.”

  “We can do it without him.”

  “No, we can’t. This seating arrangement involves his family, too. We can’t stick his uncle with his revengeful ex-wife.”

  “He doesn’t have an uncle or much family to speak of.”

  My grandmother looked at me suspiciously from underneath her eyelashes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. He’s busy in the studio and I don’t want to bother him.”

  “Well, too bad. He’s going to get bothered if you want this wedding to happen. Now, go!”

  I reluctantly rose off the couch. Luke didn’t normally lock the door to the basement, but I wouldn’t put it past him if he did this time. He didn’t like to lick his wounds in public. The knob turned easily in my hand. A breath I didn’t know I was holding expelled. A bare light bulb flickered overhead as I descended. Damp earth greeted my nostrils. Through the second door and a narrow hallway, the space opened into a single room. Luke had designed the recording studio after he read a book on feng shui. My eyes roamed the area and found him in the corner. His hair covered his face like a curtain as he bent forward, strumming on a guitar. Headphones covered his ears. He looked like the young musician I’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Sensing my presence, our gazes locked. A flash of pleasure ignited in his stare but it quickly faded into raw betrayal. My knees wanted to buckle at his feet, but begging obviously wasn’t the answer. What was eluded me.

  He slipped off the headphones. “Hey.”

  “Hey. My grandmother is upstairs and wants to work on the seating arrangement for our wedding.”

  “Can it wait? I’m busy.”

  “I’m afraid not. She’s a very determined lady.”

  Luke met my smile with a grimace. He unhurriedly unplugged his guitar from his amp and gestured for me to lead the way.

  Half
way down the hallway, I looked back and joked. “We should have eloped instead.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  The detachment of his voice caused a pit of despair to form in my stomach. Did my one mistake ruin the future of Mrs. and Mr. Anderson?

  My grandmother and Nil sat on the floor, playing with Nil’s latest obsession, her dollhouse. Miniature furniture decorated the carpet, as did miniature people, clothes, and accessories. My mother had gone slightly overboard on the presents to her granddaughter. Although, the dollhouse did retain Nil’s attention for hours.

  “Mom, I’m going to help you plan your wedding,” Nil said.

  “That’s great, sweetie.”

  Luke shoved his hands into his pockets, mouth grim. He could at least pretend as if he wanted to be here. My family rolled in gossip like pigs in mud. If they sensed the slightest wink of distress, it would be broadcast across the phone lines from the east coast to the west coast. My grandmother whispered something in Nil’s ear. She giggled and offered her pinky. They shook on whatever deal they hedged.

  “You two,” Grandma pointed to Luke and me. “In the kitchen.”

  “Why?” My arms crossed in defiant stubbornness. “I thought we were going to do the seating arrangement.”

  “Marlene, don’t test me.”

  She was bossy before she escaped on her honeymoon but she’d returned as a Russian dictator. Stomping into the kitchen, I plopped into a seat at the table. Luke did the same. Neither of us wanted to be there and I took a small inkling of solace in that.

  My grandmother folded herself into the chair. “You can’t go into a marriage with unresolved issues. They will fester into resentment so start talking. What happened?”

  Luke and I shared a glance, neither one of us willing to spill the beans on our private matters.

  Luke sighed, irritated. “This is considered a hostage situation.”

  “I don’t see any ties or ropes binding you to the chair,” she said. “You are free to leave.” As Luke began to do exactly that, she spoke. “But if you disappear into that dingy basement, consider that your first step to divorce.”

  Dramatic, but it worked.