Rock Wedding

by Nalini Singh

  Abe's jaw worked, his hand fisting on the carpet. "I got clean before coming to get you," he ground out. "And I shot up the day I realized you were with Vance."

  She was the one who flinched this time.

  "No, Sarah, I'm not blaming you." Abe rubbed his hands over his head. "Cocaine is my demon. Alcohol was my crutch. All I'm saying is that you meant enough to me to break me."

  The declaration threatened to break her.

  "Let me show you," Abe said in that voice that held nothing back, that stripped him bare. "Give me a chance to be the man you deserve."

  Sarah was so scared. Not just for herself but for her baby. She didn't want to be a single mom, but she'd far rather be that than be with a man who didn't value her. Her mother had done that, allowed her "boyfriends" to beat her up, use her up, until one day one had gone too far. Sarah had repeated that pattern with Jeremy and with Abe.

  Abe had never been violent, not physically, but the emotional wounds he'd inflicted still bled. Never again would she put herself in that position. She didn't want the nightmare that had scarred her to mark a third generation.

  She looked at the tattooed and pierced rock star who'd once been her husband. In many ways, the man he'd become since their divorce was a stranger to her, one who'd taken her on a midnight dessert date and who looked at her with eyes filled with what she wanted to believe was love. What if it wasn't just a fleeting fantasy? What if Abe had changed? What if he did truly love her? What if he could be a wonderful father?

  It was the last that swayed her most. Sarah wouldn't protect her heart at the cost of stealing her child's chance to have a father full time.

  "All right." She trembled within, terror and hope colliding to create myriad fractures. "But if things aren't working by the time the baby is born..."

  "Then we act like adults and make an agreement to look after our kid the best way we can while not being together."

  Sarah nodded.

  Rising from the floor, Abe walked to the bed, looked down at her. "You want me to go home today?"

  Sarah thought of all the lonely nights she'd spent aching for Abe, of all the lonely nights that might yet be in her future. "No." She got up out of bed, found her robe. "Stay."

  Touching her fingers to his jaw, she smiled through the fear and the hope that was a flight of butterflies in her stomach. "You can go tire out Flossie while I put together some dinner. I'm starving."

  Abe smiled, kissed her fingertips. And it felt good, felt right.

  CHAPTER 24

  SARAH WOKE THE NEXT MORNING FACING AWAY FROM ABE, her body curved into the muscled warmth of his. He had one arm under her head, had thrown the other over her waist. It was a heavy weight, but one that made her feel safe, protected. His other arm though, it had to be numb. Still, she didn't move, not wanting to ruin this moment.

  Sunlight arced through a gap in the curtains, fine dust motes sparkling in the air. It was early enough that she could hear the birds tweeting loudly as they went about their business, no car sounds to break the peace. And she was all wrapped up in Abe.

  Her eyes threatened to sting.

  This had been one of her favorite fantasies during her marriage to Abe: just lying in bed with him on a Sunday morning, lazy and warm and with nowhere in particular to be. It had rarely happened though.

  No more living in the past. Live in today. It was an order to herself. This would never work if she allowed herself to be held hostage to their painful history.

  "Mmm." A rumbling sound from Abe before he cuddled her even closer, pushing his thigh up between her legs.

  Naked as they both were, she could feel his morning arousal hot and demanding against her back, but he wasn't pushing for sex. He was just... holding her. And the tears, they came ever closer to the surface. She swallowed them in mute desperation.

  Abe settled again.

  Sarah barely breathed until it became clear he was still asleep. Relaxing, she allowed herself to wallow in this moment when a romantic fantasy had finally come true. Her lips curved a little shakily. Finally that teenage girl who'd haunted the romance novels section of the library and who'd believed in true love was having her faith justified.

  At least for this moment.

  That moment lasted for over half an hour. Abe apparently woke up in stages when he was sober and in no hurry to be anywhere else. He nuzzled and cuddled her, never releasing her from his grip. When she said a smiling, "Good morning," all she got was another rumble from his chest.

  It was over five minutes later--according to her cute little bedside clock with its old-fashioned bells atop a round face--that he pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck and said, "Morning, beautiful."

  That teenage girl, she just melted. Sarah the adult attempted to stay firm, but it was near impossible with Abe sounding so lazy and drowsy. Maybe--a sudden stab of worry--he didn't even know who it was he was snuggling.

  "Sarah." He rubbed his bristly chin against her shoulder at the same time that he ran his hand down the curve of her waist and over her hip. "God, you're sexy in the morning."

  She laughed because a smooth operator, Abe wasn't. "And you're clearly in the mood for something." His erection felt like hot stone against her back.

  He nibbled on her shoulder at the same time that he cupped her between the legs. That quickly, her laughter turned into a moan. He knew her far too well; he used his fingers to play lazily with her clit until she moved restlessly and parted her thighs in a silent invitation. Taking it, he lifted her thigh higher and entered her from behind in a slow, deep slide that made a throaty moan emerge from her mouth.

  Pushing home, Abe gripped her hip and nuzzled at her as he moved in tiny increments, less thrusting than rocking.

  A thousand emotions twisted around and inside her, building and building. Somehow this lazy morning intimacy felt far more powerful than the wild passion of the previous day. Maybe because he was holding her, maybe because...

  Sarah didn't have the words or the thoughts for it. She just knew she'd shatter if he didn't... do something.

  "What do you want?" It was an erotic question in her ear, but even as he spoke, he was touching her again, using one big finger to stroke her clit exactly the way she liked. Then he began kissing her throat.

  Pleasure broke through her in small, pulsing explosions. Like little fireworks going off inside her. When Abe rolled her over onto her front without breaking their intimate connection, she went, let him cover her, his hands sliding under her body to cup her breasts while he moved lazily in and out of her.

  He was still so hard, and in this new position, his cock hit places inside her that tore new moans from her already pleasure-drunk body. When he said, "One more time, sweetheart," she tried to shake her head, but it felt too heavy, her veins filled with sweet sugar syrup rather than blood.

  Abe moved one hand from her breast down to play teasingly at her navel, going an inch lower with every brush until she was holding her breath in anticipation of a more intimate touch. Then he did it, and with his hand so tightly pressed under her body, the pressure on the blood-flushed button of her clit sent an erotic shock through her entire body.

  "Again," he murmured at her whimper, kissing her throat at the same time that he pressed down almost too hard on her clit. But Abe knew her body, knew how to stay on the right side of the line.

  Bucking up in shocked pleasure, she clamped down hard on him with her inner muscles at the same time. He groaned, shoved deep, pulled out and thrust back in, in a rough pounding that had her clawing at the sheets as her body spasmed again and again. Then he was pulsing inside her, hot and wet.

  He collapsed on her afterward, his breath that of a runner who'd just sprinted to the end of his endurance. His muscles quivered against her--and oh, she loved that she'd done that to him--but he still managed to brace himself on one arm only seconds later so that he wasn't crushing her.

  "Fuck," he gasped. "I hate being a big bastard at times like this."

  Sara
h's own breathing wasn't exactly steady when she said, "I can take a little more." Yes, he was a big, muscled weight, but she liked feeling him all over her.

  Taking her at her word, Abe lowered himself until she felt deliciously crushed, surrounded by his scent, enveloped in the wild heat of him. He brushed her hair off her face, kissed her cheek. The sweet, unexpected caress made her toes curl. "Morning."

  She smiled in a way she knew was silly and happy. "Good morning."

  Stroking his hand down her side, Abe cupped her breast with lazy possessiveness. "What do you have planned for today?" Another sweet kiss.

  "Nothing major." She couldn't stop smiling. "I thought maybe I'd read or bake." Normal, ordinary things that she cherished. "And Flossie and I usually go for a more fun walk on Sundays."

  "Can I eat your baking?" Abe nuzzled her.

  She turned her head to smile up at him. "Yes, but I might put you to work as my assistant."

  "Bring it on."

  ABE SAT CLEAN AND SHOWERED in Sarah's kitchen. Since he had no fresh clothes at her place, he was just wearing a towel, while she'd pulled on a large T-shirt and panties as well as fluffy socks. "The tile floor on this side of the kitchen is too cold," she said to him when he teased her about the pink socks.

  "I like them--very cheerleader." He waggled his eyebrows. "Did I ever tell you about my cheerleader fantasy?"

  Rolling her eyes and laughing, Sarah passed him the last of the ham from the fridge, the rest of their breakfast supplies already on the table. "I need to go grocery shopping."

  Abe didn't grocery shop. It wasn't that he thought he was too good for it--he just didn't think about it. He had a housekeeper who came in once a week and who made sure the house was clean and he had food in the pantry. If he ran out of something midweek, he grabbed it from a local convenience store. But if Sarah wanted to go grocery shopping, he was in. "We can go after breakfast."

  Sarah halted in the process of pulling out slices of bread from the toaster. "Since when do you grocery shop?"

  He grabbed the coffee carafe, topped off his mug. Sarah was sticking to one cup a day for the duration of her pregnancy, going with decaffeinated drinks the rest of the time. Today that meant some fruity herbal tea.

  "I used to go with my mom when I came home from boarding school," he told her.

  "You must've missed your folks when you were away at school." Sarah's voice was careful.

  It took Abe a second to figure out why: he'd always shut her down when she'd asked about his family during their marriage. Back then everything had reminded him of Tessie, and he hadn't been able to handle it. But that Abe was in the past. This one could think of his baby sister without breaking... and he'd promised not to hurt Sarah.

  It was a promise he'd damn well keep.

  "Yeah," he said, the grin that spread over his face unexpected and real both. "I was a bit of a mama's boy, to be honest."

  Sarah's face lit up. "You?" she said as they sat down to eat. "I don't believe it."

  "Seriously, I was." Abe grabbed a slice of toast, reached for the butter. "I mean, I didn't run to her if someone talked shit to me or anything like that, but I used to enjoy doing stuff with Mom."

  Grinning again, he shook his head. "I'd complain if she asked me to go to the mall or the grocery store with her and pretend I was bored out of my skull while she shopped, but secretly I liked hanging out with her."

  Sarah's smile was huge. "Did you ever let on?"

  "Naw. But I think Mom knew. Somehow she always had to do a ton of stuff when I was home from boarding school."

  "What about your dad?"

  Abe took a deep breath. Losing his father so soon after Tessie had been a hammer blow neither he nor his mother had expected, and sometimes Abe still forgot his dad was gone and would go to give him a call to ask his advice. "I loved him," he said, his voice gritty. "He was older than my mom, a little more set in his ways, with some old-fashioned views, but he was always so proud of me."

  Abe swallowed the emotion choking him up. "He wanted me to be my own man, whoever that man was." He shook his head. "I was so scared of telling him I wanted to pursue a career in rock music instead of going to college, but all he said to me was that a man had to be able to support himself and his family, and if I could do that with music, that was all that mattered."

  Shifting to sit beside him, Sarah ran a gentle hand up and down his back. "I'm sorry I never got to meet him."

  "He would've liked you." Abe could almost see his father's smile at that instant, quiet but deep. "This business you've created with your own hard work--it's something he would've appreciated."

  "You had good parents."

  Sarah's wistful tone made Abe realize he knew next to nothing about her childhood. She'd told him her parents were dead, but the only other thing he knew was that her mom had been Puerto Rican, her father African-American--though, he remembered, her dad's grandmother had been Japanese.

  And that was it, that was all he knew about her early history.

  "Your folks?" he asked gently after she'd eaten a spoonful of muesli. "Not so good?"

  Her face closed up. "No, they were fine," she said, so quickly she almost tripped over the words.

  Abe wasn't about to let it go, not this time. If they were to make it, both of them had to be honest and open with each other. "Sarah." He closed his hand over her nape. "Talk to me."

  Huge, dark eyes met his. Ducking her head, she didn't say anything else. He was frustrated but knew he couldn't force her--and she didn't need any extra stress right now. So he let her eat her muesli while he demolished the toast and ham and cheese. Not the most traditional breakfast, but Abe wasn't fussy.

  Hell, he'd been known to eat cold pizza for breakfast after a bender.

  "You want some?" he asked when there was only one piece of toast left on the plate.

  Sarah shook her head. "No, you have it. This muesli really fills me up."

  Abe had given up all hope of getting an answer to his earlier question when she said, "My mom was seventeen when she had me." A voice so quiet it was almost soundless. "My father was her high school boyfriend."

  Abe rose, topped off his coffee, poured Sarah some more tea from her little pot.

  "Predictably," she said after taking a sip, "they didn't last long. The two of them crashed and burned eight months after I was born." Her eyes turned faraway, her focus distant.

  "My father wasn't a deadbeat though. He got an apprentice position at an auto shop, helped my mom with money for food and rent after her parents kicked her out. He even took shifts with me so she could go out with her friends." She took a deep breath. "Then he died in a car accident when I was three, and that was it."

  It sounded so final, as if with her father had gone all hope. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." He put his arm around her shoulders. "It must've been tough, not having your dad there as you grew up."

  "I sometimes wonder what my life would've been like if he hadn't been in that crash. Everything I know about him says he was the more stable of my parents."

  Another pause to take a sip of tea, another shaky breath. "After my father died, my paternal grandmother helped babysit me, but she was too infirm to take me full time. She passed away when I was about nine." Her fingers squeezed at her mug, her throat moving as she swallowed convulsively. "I loved her. She was so kind to me. I think she was the only person other than my dad who really loved me."

  Abe frowned. "What about your mom? Given that they kicked out their own kid, I'm guessing your maternal grandparents won't win any 'Parent of the Year' awards."

  Lips pursed tight, Sarah nodded. "They were religious--and not the kind of religious anchored in compassion and helping the less fortunate. No, they were the kind of religious that makes a person cold and unforgiving. According to them, my mother had brought shame on the family by having a child out of wedlock and they didn't want anything to do with her. I've never met them."

  Abe felt his hand fist under the table, his jaw a brutal lin
e. "Yeah well, you probably didn't miss out on much." He cuddled her closer.

  She came, putting her mug on the table and placing one of her hands on his thigh. "They called me the 'spawn of shame.' My mom let it slip once when she was drunk."

  Abe wanted to strangle the older couple. "So, your mom drank?"

  "Just the odd weekend bender. Her drug of choice was men, and they were the only thing about which she cared. I basically raised myself after my grandma passed away." She blinked really fast, as if fighting off tears. "My mother blamed me for all her lost dreams and opportunities."

  Abe felt his jaw lock at the pain inherent in that last statement, knew he shouldn't interrupt, but he couldn't stop himself. "You had no choice in being born. And being a young single mom doesn't mean the end of everything."

  "I know," Sarah said softly. "I didn't for a long time, but then I met my best friend, Lola. She was a teenage mom too, and though her folks didn't kick her out, they were dirt-poor and working all the hours of the day themselves, couldn't really offer her much help. She raised her son with sheer grit and determination, and he adores her."

  "I think I'll like Lola."

  A trembling smile. "I know you will--but she's probably going to want to deck you."

  Sucking in a breath, Abe winced. "I can take it." Lola had been there for Sarah when she needed a friend--Abe would give the woman any leeway she wanted. "So, your mom never settled into a stable life."

  Sarah shook her head. "We had a rotating front door--one man after another, all of whom were going to be 'different,' going to be 'the best.' All of whom were knights in shining armor and so what if they didn't like her 'brat.' It wasn't like she liked the brat either. Just a whiny mouth to feed, no good for anything, useless."

  Fury roared through Abe's veins. He wished he could go back, change the past, but he couldn't. All he could do was hold Sarah, love her.

  Shadows across her face, even darker and more vicious. "She always chose violent men. My father was her single good decision." Her hand rose to her cheek, to the spot where Jeremy Vance had hit her.

  Shoving away from the kitchen chair, Abe stalked to the window, pressing his hands against the counter as he fought the rage vibrating under his skin. "Did that asswipe hit you? While you were together?" He'd never forget how Sarah had looked that night, so shocked and lost and shattered.