by Carian Cole
“You don’t have to try. You already do.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I’m sitting on the couch at the cabin, Halo and Niko at my feet and my laptop propped on my legs, chipping away at Aria’s incoming emails. Her latest book made bestseller in under a week and now a movie deal is in the works for a book she published three years ago. I double-check her calendar before booking more meetings as Gram’s ninetieth birthday party is next month and we are planning a big party for her.
While I have my laptop open, I check Storm’s social media sites and post an update on their next show and links to new band merchandise. Over the past few months, I’ve been working closely with a graphic designer to better brand the band with a new logo and adding new items to their swag. The women’s black fitted tee with rhinestone snowflake has been a huge seller. Storm thought it would be fun to take advantage of our blizzard story, and he was right—the female fans all wanted an Ashes and Embers snowflake shirt.
A few weeks after we went public, a female rock journalist interviewed us, wanting to showcase us as a ‘real couple,’ and specifically focusing on the fact that men can and do, love natural, cute women. Since then, most of the hatred for me on social media flipped to admiration, my own inbox flooding with emails from young girls asking for relationship advice. Kind of ironic. Yes, I still have haters, but I ignore all that now.
I shut down my laptop and head out to the garage, barefoot, to find Storm sitting on the ground with a motorcycle in pieces around him. I grab a bottled water from the garage refrigerator and hand it to him.
“Thanks, baby.” He tilts his head up for a kiss. I smile at him, wipe some grease off his cheek, and give him a long slow kiss.
“How’s it going?” The bike he’s working on is his favorite. It’s painted a glossy jet black with wolves airbrushed over the fenders and tank. It’s beautiful.
He nods his head, sipping his water before replying. “Pretty good. Next weekend we’re going for a ride.”
“I can’t wait.” It’ll be my first ride, and I’m looking forward to it.
“Did you call Vandal? I called him earlier, but he’s not answering his phone. Maybe he’ll talk to you.”
I kneel down next to him. “Yes...we talked for a few minutes. He’s all right, just doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now.”
Storm throws his wrench. “He fucking hates me. All of us.”
I rub his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Storm, you guys did what you had to do. He’s too messed up to be in the band right now, you guys know that. He’s pissed, but he understands. He knows once things settle down and he gets better, he can come back.”
“I’m not sure he’s ever gonna be better, Evie,” he mutters.
“He will. It’s just going to take some time.” I try to sound hopeful, even though I know deep down Vandal may not ever come out of the dark place he’s in.
“All the time in the world can’t fix what he’s going through, baby. He’s done.”
The situation with Vandal is devastating. A month ago, he fell asleep at the wheel while driving late at night, killing his five-year-old daughter, a female friend and a driver in another car. Vandal spiraled into a horrific depression, distancing himself even further from the band—his only family. Sometimes, he’ll talk to me, but not often, and he says very little. Once a week, I stop by his house, bringing him groceries and cleaning up the mess he leaves.
I have a soft spot for Vandal. When I first him, he scared the heck out of me with his dark looks, bad moods, and utter silence. He hardly ever spoke. The first time I stopped at his house after the accident, he was a mess, throwing things, screaming, and swearing. I questioned my sanity for showing up at his home alone. Then he just collapsed in front of me, and I sat on the floor with him and just held him. I never said a word, I just held him. From that moment on, we’ve had a quiet friendship. He doesn’t yell anymore. He eats the food I bring him and thanks me for cleaning his house. It’s the least I can do. Storm loves his cousin and family has to take care of each other.
Storm stands up covered in grease from head to toe, but I lean in to hug him anyway.
“I was thinking we’d go out to dinner tonight,” he says, putting his arms around me.
“I’d love that. Our fur children are getting along great. They were sleeping next to each other when I came out here.”
He kisses me on the nose and grabs my ass. “I knew they would. I think we need to take a shower together before dinner. You’ve been hiding from me too long today. I missed you.”
“I know... Your mom’s emails have been insane.”
We walk into the house together and he leads me straight to the bathroom, pulling our clothes off as soon as we get through the door.
“Get in there and turn the water on, and I want you to lather yourself up with that vanilla soap.”
I do as he says, standing in the glass shower while he leans against the sink, naked, watching me as I spread the thick lather all over my body. He slowly crosses the room, his cock hard and jutting out. He presses me up against the tile wall, running his hands up and down my soapy body, and then lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and slowly sliding inside me.
“You’re still dirty,” I tease.
“I know.” His kisses are playful, starting at my lips, and then moving down to my neck, biting my flesh. “You smell like cookies.”
He places me back on my feet. “I want you to wash me,” he says, his voice laced with soft command.
I take the bath sponge, squirt vanilla body wash on it, and slowly run it all over his body, the suds sliding over his hard muscles. The multiple showerheads spray us from every angle, rinsing the creamy soap off us. We shampoo each other’s hair, and then I drop to my knees and take him into my mouth. He leans back against the tile wall, his hand on my head, gently pulling me to him as I suck him.
He locks his eyes onto mine. They are glazed and half closed as he loses himself in me. Nothing turns me on more than watching him when he’s enjoying what I’m doing to him.
“Mmm… I think I need more.” He pulls me up by my hair and spins me around, pressing my front against the glass door. His lips trail all the way down my spine, while his hands slide down my wet sides, and stop at my hips. He squeezes my ass and gives me a small slap before slowly inching his way into me.
“You stayed away from me for too long today,” he hisses in my ear, thrusting harder.
“I know…”
“Tomorrow I want you all to myself.”
I’m not going to argue with that.
“I’m getting prime rib and shrimp,” he announces and closes his menu.
“Honey, you get that every time we come here.”
He bites into a hunk of bread. “I know. It’s always perfect. I don’t want to try something new.”
I like to get something new every time we go out to eat. “I’m getting the chicken cordon bleu.”
“I’ll end up eating half of that, too.”
I giggle at him. I can never finish my dinner so he usually eats whatever I don’t finish.
“Oh, my God, you’re Storm Valentine!” Suddenly, two girls are standing by our table. I place my glass back on the table and raise my eyebrows at them. This sort of thing usually doesn’t happen at this restaurant, as it’s very expensive and most of the patrons would respect that someone dining here would not want to be bothered.
Storm just smiles. “Yes, that would be me.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his, ignoring them.
“Could we get your autograph? And get our picture taken?”
He shakes his hair out of his eyes. “Ladies, I appreciate you coming over, but I’m having dinner with my girl.”
One of the girls makes a nasty face at him. “But you’re just sitting here. What’s the big deal?”
He flashes her a not so nice look. “The big deal is that we’re enjoying a private night out, and we don’t want to be interrupted. I’m not
on stage, I’m having dinner.”
“Being an asshole to your fans isn’t cool,” she says.
He stands up. “I love my fans. I don’t like being disrespected. I’d appreciate it if you would leave, please.”
Finally, the manager of the restaurant appears. “Mr. Valentine, I am so sorry. You know we do not tolerate this kind of behavior here.” He turns to the girls. “Ladies, I will escort you from the building now.”
I watch as he drags them away, both of them cussing us out. I’ve learned not to engage with people like that and to just ignore them.
“Rude bitches,” Storm mutters, sipping his wine. “Do you believe that shit?”
“It’s okay. They’re gone now.”
He still looks pissed off. “You don’t know how much I hate that, Evie. What happens when we have kids? I don’t want them growing up like I did, being pulled on, picked on, used, and annoyed everywhere they go.”
I tilt my head at him and put my hand in his again. “What are you saying?”
He looks off for a few moments, deep in thought. “I don’t know if I want to do this forever, Evie. I want to have a family with you, and just be fucking normal. Maybe just work on the bikes and leave the band in a few years. Maybe play a few local acoustic gigs once in a while. But not this touring stuff and being so out in the public eye.”
“Storm... you know I’ll support whatever you do. But it would crush Asher... losing Vandal and then you. Ashes and Embers will fall apart.”
The band is Asher’s life, his baby. I can’t even imagine what he would do if he lost Storm, too. Of course, Storm could be replaced, but he’s the front man of the band, the one who extracts the most attention and gets the crowd going. Ashes and Embers just wouldn’t be the same without him.
He nods slowly, squeezing my hand tighter. “I know that. I don’t want to do that to him, or any of them. But we come first. I have to do what’s best for us and our family.”
Our family.
A million butterflies have taken over my insides. I’m starting to see that underneath his tough, rocker facade, is a guy who just wants to be loved and have a normal quiet life.
“Sweetheart, I have faith that no matter what you do, you will always do what’s best for us. I’m with you no matter what. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll make it work.”
“I know, Evie. I just keep thinking about Vandal and little Katie... and my baby... Life is really fucking short.” His voice cracks.
I stare at him, not sure what to say. He’s never mentioned Britney or the baby before. “I let them down.” He doesn’t look at me when he says it.
I want to go to him and put my arms around him, but I don’t want to create another scene in the restaurant.
“Storm, you did not. You were just a kid. Even an adult wouldn’t be able to handle everything you had to go through. When someone’s depressed or dealing with mental illness, they don’t behave normally. They don’t let people help them. I’ve been there, I know.”
“Michael stayed with you when you were depressed,” he deadpans.
“And look how that ended up. Him staying with me didn’t fix anything, it hurt us both. I don’t think anything you would have done could have changed what Britney did, Storm. Once someone gets to that point, they are too far gone. Their mind is made up.”
“It’s been on my mind a lot... since this stuff with Vandal. I want to do things right this time. I don’t want to do anything to risk losing you or our family.”
“Storm, you didn’t do anything wrong. You were eighteen. And I’m fine. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I love you more than I thought possible. We’re good in every way. If you want to leave the band, then do it because your hearts, not in it but don’t do it because you think it’s going to somehow protect us. I’m happy when you’re happy. We’re on this ride together, right? That’s what you said. I’m in. If bitches want to interrupt our dinner, that’s fine. We laugh about it. It’s not going to hurt us. Our kids will grow up with two parents who love each other, just like you did. They’ll be okay, I promise.”
I’m not used to this side of him. He’s like an onion, layers slowly peeling, revealing more and more. His mom was right, there is so much more to him. The more I learn, the more I love this man.
We enjoy the rest of our dinner, all talks of babies and depression left behind.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Come on, baby. Put this on your head and get on.” He hands me the helmet and I take it from him.
“It’s heavy,” I protest.
“No shit. It’s gotta protect your head. Put it on.”
“You’re not wearing one,” I point out.
“I know. But you are. Now put it on, please.”
Scowling, I put the heavy thing on my head and he buckles it under my chin for me. My head feels like it weighs a ton now.
He pushes the visor up on my helmet and smiles at me. “You look adorable. Now get on and hang on to me, okay?”
I climb onto the motorcycle behind him and put my arms around his waist tightly.
“Good girl. Now don’t squirm around, all right? Try to stay with my body... if I lean to the right, you lean with me. And when I brake, try not to let your helmet slam into the back of my head like my fucking sister does.”
“Okay... got it. Just go slow, okay?”
“Of course, I will. I want you to enjoy this. If you start to feel nervous just let me know and I’ll pull over.”
I give him a thumbs up and he starts the bike, the engine roaring to life. It’s much louder than I expected it to be. This is the ride he promised me months ago when we were in the blizzard, and he’s taking me back to the spot he told me about, right near where we were stuck. When he made that promise back then, I never thought we’d be together now, madly in love and building a life together.
Hugging him as we ride together is an incredible, bonding experience. A feeling of total love, trust, and freedom envelops me as we roar through the forest-lined road. I love this man so much, at times I feel like my heart will burst. He has become my world, showing me so many new things, opening my mind to new adventures, loving me unconditionally, even when I have been difficult. In return, I have devoted every day to showing him how much I love him, want him, and appreciate him. Fate threw us together in such a crazy way, but she certainly knew what she was doing.
We ride for about forty minutes, his long hair whipping behind him and tickling my neck, my arms wrapped around his waist, my legs pressed against his, until he slows and pulls the bike over to a gravelly clearing on the side of the road. I wait until the bike has fully stopped, and he puts his feet down and gives me the okay before I jump off and unbuckle the helmet. Pulling it off my head for me, he places it on the back of the bike and takes me into his arms.
“You did great, baby. Did you enjoy it?” He tilts his head down, the sun beaming behind him, and plants a kiss on my forehead.
“I did. I was a little scared at first, but I actually did like it once I got used to it. It feels so... free.”
“Doesn’t it? I love riding. Hopefully, you’ll come with me more now that you’ve had a chance to see what it’s like.”
He releases me to go back to the bike, rummaging around in the saddlebag, and he finally pulls out a rolled up blanket. “I came prepared,” he says, tucking it under his arm.
He grabs my hand. “Come on.” He leads me from the road, helping me down a small hill, and through the forest. In the distance, I can hear water, like a river running.
I take in our surroundings. “Is this really where we were? It’s so beautiful.”
“Yup. Right over there.” He points to a spot about fifty feet away where some small thin trees are knocked down.
We walk a bit more and run into a small, thin river. Still holding hands tightly, we follow the river and come to a small clearing where there’s a small waterfall. It’s absolutely beautiful this spot nestled in the forest. It’s hard to believe this is where
we were. It’s not nearly as scary in the sunlight with the birds chirping all around us.
Storm spreads the blanket on the ground and pulls me down on it with him.
“This is beautiful, hon. Thank you so much for bringing me back here. It kind of feels like we came full circle.” I lean across the blanket and kiss his lips.
“Hey, didn’t I tell you I’d bring you back here?” His lips brush across mine again. “I never break a promise.”
We sit in contented silence, watching the waterfall and cloud gazing. I wish we could have brought Niko with us for our little reunion here.
I turn to Storm, taking him in. He looks gorgeous as always, the wind blowing his hair, his faded black t-shirt stretched across his muscled chest and shoulders. He catches me staring at him.
“You’re staring at me again,” he teases.
“Yup. I can’t take my eyes off you.”
“Likewise, baby.”
He grabs my hand, kisses my open palm, and then slowly sucks my finger into his mouth, sending a shudder up my spine. His tongue swirls around my finger, sucking it deeper into his mouth, his eyes watching me. His teeth come down lightly around my finger, grazing my flesh. I’m captivated, watching his mouth, the sensuality of it making me dizzy and wet.
He locks his eyes onto mine and slowly pulls my hand out of his mouth. And there, on my finger, is a diamond ring.
I gasp, and stare up at him, my mouth hanging open. My brain is spinning. How the hell did he do that? And is that what I think it is?
“Storm... oh, my God... I—how did you do that?”
“This is my Gram’s ring. It’s very special to her. It was given to her by a man she loved before she was with my grandfather, but he died very young, before they could marry. She was hoping someday, one of us boys would meet a girl special enough to wear it. She and I agreed that’s you.”
I swallow hard, staring at the large glistening gem on my finger. It’s beyond beautiful, and the fact that it belonged to this wonderful woman, given to her by someone special, means so much to me. This is more than just a ring, more than just a proposal. This is an invitation into a wonderful, loving family. This is acceptance.