by Cari Quinn
Juliet hadn’t owned up to her pregnancy yet, even if the whole band knew it. But that kid was going to be loved.
And he’d make sure to watch out for him or her, like he hadn’t been able to for the baby’s old man. He still wouldn’t have done things differently, just wished it hadn’t come to that. There had been no one except Ricki in his mind when the world had literally started falling around their ears.
The heat and sparks of electricity had showered them like some insane light show, but it had been smoke and death waiting for them instead of applause.
“Malachi?”
He jerked at his name.
“I’ve been calling your name.”
He wiped his hand down his face. “Sorry.” He shoved his hand into his pocket and came out with his keys fisted between his fingers.
She crossed to him and closed her cool hands over his. “There was nothing you could have done.”
His nostrils flared. “You don’t know that.”
He tried to step away from her, but she strengthened her hold. “We haven’t been to see anyone yet. We both have been avoiding the pain of today. Of seeing everyone.” Tears starred her lashes.
He hooked his other arm around her neck and dragged her into his chest. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
She nodded into his chest. “I know.” She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek into his shoulder. “I know.”
He held her like that for another minute before he hustled her outside. The drive was a quiet one. Both of them were too keyed-up for conversation, thank fuck. He concentrated on the winding roads that led to the pretty clearing. The sun broke out over the lush greenery and flowers bursting around the large patio.
A line of cars was already there. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t this. There was sun and light and open spaces. Nothing dark and somber beyond the crowd of people wearing dark colors.
He braced himself for the paparazzi sure to be there, but found no one save for two people hanging on the outskirts. And each of the reporters had a Roth Defense security buddy beside them.
Mal had to hand it to Donovan, the man knew how to control an event.
Ricki reached back for his hand as they came up to the arbor leading to the main congregation of people. He recognized a few people from the crew and who had to be their families, other musicians they’d toured with over the years, as well as family members.
A few were dressed like restaurant staff. Some seemed to be taking care of the people mogging around, and others seemed to be there for Tristan Eves. Being a chef for one of the premier hotels in Los Angeles, he had a lot of people in his life as well.
Amazingly, it was mostly contained without a lot of fanfare.
As they moved deeper into the crowd of people, he finally heard familiar voices. Children played out on the grass. He recognized Jazz and Margo from Oblivion. Jazz had her head tipped against Margo’s shoulder as she clutched her hand.
Margo belonged to Juliet. The ripples from Randy’s death were far and wide and this gathering was an in-your-face reminder of that. He’d touched so many, belonged to so many.
“You’re here.” Lauren and West rushed forward. “I swear, you guys are trying to give us heart palpitations.” Lauren glanced down at their linked hands and Ricki dropped his hand.
Mal shoved it into his pocket as if he had been burned. Were they supposed to be hiding shit?
Lauren curled her arms around Ricki, then pulled back. “Oh, your shoulder. Sorry.”
Ricki waved it off. “I’m fine. Just sore.” She wouldn’t meet Lo’s eyes. She turned to West and hugged him. “We’re on time, aren’t we?”
West patted her back. “People started arriving almost two hours early. Luckily, Donovan seemed to be ready for that turn of events. He had people here and ready for it. Did you see the two Rottweilers on the door?”
Ricki frowned. “No.”
Mal nodded. “Yeah. Good way to keep the press at bay. I recognized one of the reporters.”
“You did?” Ricki looked up at him.
He shrugged. “Watch enough television on the bus, you start knowing faces whether you want to or not.”
She gave a small, “huh,” but then was enveloped in the chaos that was their band. Ricki became Elle in a moment’s switch. She was handed off to each person in the band. Luc and Molly enveloped her in a warm hug, while Ethan leaned down for a more sedate kiss on the cheek.
Ryan and Denver crowded in and there was nothing but voices and tears as each of the women seemed to explode into waterworks when they got a look at the other.
Mal stepped back with each successive intrusion until he was on the outskirts as usual. It was where he liked to be—at least he used to.
A hand came down on his shoulder. “Hey, brother.”
Mal turned to Mike and grunted when he was dragged in for a hug. He gave his brother an awkward pat. “Where’s Chloe and the monkeys?”
Michael nodded toward the clearing. “We left Hope with a sitter. Axl is out with the other kids. Jazz seems to be the ringleader for all the children today so Chloe went to see if she could help.”
They stood shoulder to shoulder, both of them watching the kids outside.
“Elle, huh?”
Mal swallowed down the boulder in his throat and clenched his fist. She’d dropped his damn hand like a hot rock, but yeah, she was his. He didn’t care who knew. “She’s mine.”
“Yours?” Mike’s eyebrows shot up.
He nodded. “I know it’s not ideal and people might give her shit about it, but she’s mine.”
“Why would they?” Mike turned to him.
Mal lifted his chin and stared his brother right in the eye. “Why wouldn’t they?”
“You know you’re part of us—part of this—whether you want it or not, right?” Michael swirled his fingers to encompass the space. “You might try to keep us at arm’s length, but you’re part of this band. Part of our unit. Fucking family.” His voice was low and gritty so it didn’t carry.
Mal swallowed, but nodded. “I want that. I do. Fucking snuck up on me, but I do.”
“Finally.” Mike nudged his arm. “Always takes a girl.” He nodded to Ricki who stood with Denver, Lo, and Molly in a familiar cluster. “They make us better, and Elle is one of the good ones. I’m glad you let her in.”
“I didn’t let her do anything.”
Mike laughed. “Yeah, they have a habit of taking over. You get used to it.”
“Not likely.”
The tone of the room changed and a hum went through the people gathered around. A male voice lifted over the din. “If you could please convene outside, we’d appreciate it.”
Donovan Lewis. His voice conveyed power and culture with that faint hint of a British accent running through it. And people fucking moved when he spoke. A lot of power in those three-piece suits.
Ricki hugged the girls and squeezed hands before coming back to him. “Hey.” She linked her arm through his. “Sorry about that, I needed to answer a few questions.”
Mal nodded to Mike as he moved off to find Chloe and the older kids. “It’s fine.”
She tugged his hand out of his pocket. “I’m sorry I left you alone.” She laced her fingers with his. And the rock that had been sitting on his chest lessened a little. Her eyes were shining and her pulse was fluttering at her neck. “So many people, I can’t quit it with the waterworks.” She dashed at her eyes with her other hand.
He reached into the small inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a black bandana. “I brought this.”
Her eyes filled again. “Oh, you did not.” She took it from him and threw her arms around his waist.
Mal went stone still as she buried her face in his chest. “It’s just a bandana.”
“You thought to bring it. For me.”
“It’s not a damn diamond,” he muttered.
She peered up at him. “What did you say?”
“No
thing.” He huffed out a breath. “Let’s get out there before we’re standing in the back.”
“Right. I want to be with the band. Is that okay?”
“More than okay.” He slid his hand down her back to urge her forward. He reached in his pocket for his sunglasses as they moved onto the patio. Huge baskets of flowers overwhelmed the corners. Not funeral flowers though. Somehow that fit. Tristan and Juliet wanted a celebration, not a heavy and somber affair.
He and Ricki moved through the crowd to stand beside Mike and Chloe. Molly and the girls clustered around Ricki as West and Ryan flanked the end with Luc and Ethan. A huge fucking family in the midst of all the chaos and sadness. Mike was right, they were more of a unit here than they’d ever been.
He fucking hated that it was because Randy was gone.
Hated that it took this to get him to see that. To even want to see that.
There was a large picture of Randy, Tristan, and Jules next to a small podium. Their commitment ceremony photo with smiles and sunshine around them. Then there were a bunch of photos tacked on a huge board. Backstage photos, laughter, other weddings and band moments. All of them focused on Randy and his quiet happiness.
Music floated out from the side of the patio. Nick, Deacon, Gray, and Simon sat in a half circle of chairs, playing an instrumental song on acoustic guitars. One Mal had never heard before.
Ricki swayed against him and pressed her face into his chest for a moment. He curled his arm around her shoulder and dragged her in tighter.
Juliet and Tristan went up to the podium as a unit. Juliet’s gaze crashed with Mal’s. She looked between him and Ricki and gave him a soft smile. Not the full wattage he was used to from the crazy Jules, but a quiet one that made him swallow hard.
Tristan came forward as the music stopped. “Thank you all for coming.” He nodded toward the guys from Oblivion. “That was beautiful. Thank you so much for doing that for Randy.” His eyes brimmed with tears, and one tracked down his face. “He’d have been honored. I know we are.”
Juliet nodded and swiped at her nose. “I told myself I wasn’t going to bawl through this. Randy wouldn’t want that.” She pressed her hand to Tristan’s chest as she leaned on him.
Tristan smiled down at her. “No, Randy didn’t like tears. He’d actually do just about anything to make sure Jules didn’t cry. That’s why we wanted today to be more about celebrating him and his legacy.”
Juliet smoothed a hand down her still flat belly. “He does have a legacy. One that we’ll be sharing with you in about six months.” Her eyes filled. “I did get the chance to tell him he was going to be a dad. They were going to be dads.” She tipped her head back. “The one time he was good with the tears. And he was so happy. I know he would have made the very best co-dad with this guy.” She hugged Tristan. “And while I hate—so much hate—that he’s not going to be here to see our little girl or little boy grow up, I know this kid is going to be amazing because he or she is part Randy. All the people in this pretty place are proof that he was so very loved.”
She sniffed and fanned her face. “And so we decided to do this outside so he can hear us. Hear the music and the laughter of the kids. Because there’s no one else on this planet who deserved heaven more than Randy Pruitt.”
There was laughter and a few sobs in the crowd around them. Mal swiped away a tear that escaped as Ricki soaked his good white dress shirt.
Deacon caught Harper against his chest as she cried. He led her up to stand with Jules and Tristan. A moment later, Simon and Margo went up to flank Jules.
Mike had informed him the families had done their own funeral already, so this was mostly for friends and the close-knit group of people behind the scenes who made the tours work. The people that were part of Randy’s extended family especially since he’d been a roadie since his teen years.
Juliet held out her hand to Harper and drew her close. “We wanted to make sure today was full of happy memories and a few laughs in with the tears. I miss that man—we miss that man—more than words could ever express. Thank you for coming to be with us.” She stepped back into the crowd of people on the podium.
As quickly as it had begun, this portion of the service was over. But the talking with people was not.
The problem with having so many people in the fucking band was this chaos was part of his life now. And while every part of him wanted to escape to the edges, he held fast as the voices and conversation grew. As people banded around Ricki.
Her laughter and her tears made him want to fold her up and take her away from all this, but he knew she needed it. Needed her people. Needed to know she was still loved and part of them.
The next hour was brutal. Ricki was in her element with people coming to talk to her, though she kept watching the other side of the room where Jules was. She hadn’t been over to see them, but then again, she couldn’t get two steps away with all the people who wanted to talk to her.
Finally, as he and Ricki were sipping on bottled waters at the edge of the crazy crush of people, Juliet came around behind them.
“Hey.”
Ricki’s hand trembled in his.
Jules looked down at their linked hands. Mal braced for Ricki to release him, but she didn’t. Her eyes went back to the waterworks treatment though.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” Ricki looked down at her feet. “I know you didn’t want me to be, but I’m still sorry.”
“It’s been hard.” Juliet glanced up at him. “Really hard to face this. And I’m still not all the way there. I wish I could say I was.”
Ricki nodded. “I understand.”
“But I want you better. We need you. The band needs you.” Jules patted her middle. “This little one will need everyone.”
Ricki swallowed and dashed away her tears. “Of course.”
“So you get better, okay?” Juliet reached for Ricki’s hand and squeezed. There was no hug though. He knew Ricki needed it, but knew just as well that Jules wasn’t ready.
And he didn’t blame her.
Jules glanced up at him. “I’m glad she has you.” She sniffed and backed up. “I have to…”
“It’s fine. Go. I understand.” Ricki’s grip made him bite back a smile. Her right hand was squeezing the circulation out of his hand. He’d take it. Because it was the first time she’d actually used it without favoring it or pulling it away.
Juliet turned away, but then stopped. “I’m happy for you guys. Everyone deserves someone.” Then she was gone, swallowed into the crowd of people there for her and Tristan, the baby, and the man whose presence was so quietly huge that a shit-ton of people were here to prove it to her.
He turned to Ricki. “You okay?”
She nodded. “I’m gonna be.”
That was all he could ask.
All any of them could ask. “Wanna get out of here?”
She nodded. Mal gestured to Mike that they were leaving and he followed her along the sidewalk to the arbor at the front of the outdoor venue. She curled her fingers around his. “If it’s okay…I need to go do something.”
“Alone?”
She nodded. “If that’s okay.”
“You do what you need to do.”
“I won’t be too long, I promise.”
“Do you want to take my car?” He swallowed, then held up the keys.
“Did that hurt to ask?”
“A little.”
She laughed. “No, Donovan said he had a few cars here to take people home. I’ll use one.”
“You sure you’re all right to go out alone?”
She hooked her fingers into the belt loop at the front of his pants. “I’m not going to go on a bender.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
Her hand cupped his jaw. “But I love that you worry about me. I just need to do something for me. To put a little of this behind me.” She went onto her toes. “Behind us.”
He dragged in a quick breath as she kissed him. People were all around
, and she’d touched him voluntarily. Kissed him as if it didn’t matter if anyone saw. He closed his eyes and lengthened the kiss a little before stepping away.
She smiled up at him then lifted her hand to his mouth and rubbed at his lower lip. “You’re wearing me.”
“Proudly.”
Her eyes brightened and another sheen of tears welled up. “Sweet talker.”
He only grunted and she laughed. “I’ll see you at home.” She stepped back and hurried down the walkway. He hated watching her walk away from him, but he didn’t follow.
He needed a little less people himself. And without Ricki in the car, he could open it up and drive for awhile.
Just what he needed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It had been a long, rough day. One of the worst he’d dealt with in some time, and he’d had his share lately. But at least now Mal would find his bright spot. One of them anyway, and this one wasn’t a killer blond—err, currently brunette—who could take him out at the knees with a flutter of her eyelashes.
A killer brunette who had left him after the service to take off for parts unknown. But he was cool with that. It wasn’t as if he’d anticipated them spending the rest of the day together.
Nah. He’d barely even thought about it. Besides, now he could talk to his niece.
Hope Shawcross had some attributes of her own, that was for certain. Like being ridiculously cute, though he hated that word. Also, she liked her uncle, which was a positive in Mal’s book.
“Say hi to Uncle Mal, Hopie.”
The little blond girl’s face filled the screen on Mal’s MacBook. Her hair was spiky and wet and sticking out in all directions and her lashes were starred with water. She wore a duck towel robe thingy that Mal had gotten her, and the hood was cock-eyed so the duck bill sat on her shoulder. “Hi, Unca Ma.”
Not exactly his name, but she was getting closer. Since she was still in diapers, he couldn’t fault her much.
“Hiya kiddo. Were you good for your mom for your bath?” He wasn’t the best at baby talk, mainly because he felt like a dumbass while trying to speak at a level she could understand. Hope was a fairly genius kid, though, so he was sure she got the gist of most of what he was saying without adding in goo-goo gaa-gaa.