“I have a hunch,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“Your meditation is making music,” she said this then kissed him.
Man, that kiss… He kissed her back. Becca’s mouth on his was definitely a morning treat.
“You think music is my meditation?” he asked against her mouth.
She nodded. “I do.”
Girl might have a point.
“And this is yours?” he asked, a glance to the inches of rope.
She nodded. “A hobby to help me get out of my head.”
No, this was more than a hobby, just like his music was more than meditation. “You should sell these.”
They weren’t like the friendship bracelets Courtney made as a kid. Those were chintzy little things. This was definitely artwork.
She laughed. “Ha. No.”
“Why not?” He’d bet she could make her fortune hocking bracelets and necklaces like this to the celebrity crowd. He made a mental note to ask Courtney. She always had an eye for start-ups and excellent business prospects.
People in his world didn’t care about how much something cost to make. They cared about the experience of owning it.
“It’s recycled leather.” Becca slid it through her fingers once again. “I’d get a few dollars for it, tops.”
He moved into her, “I’d pay more than that.”
“You don’t have to.” She nodded to his wrist. “Give me your hand.”
“Becca?” he asked.
“It’s a gift.” She tied the leather around his wrist.
“I can’t take this from you.” His throat clogged at the thought. He was the one who gave gifts. He was good at that. Getting them? He got them from his parents and his sister. Sometimes the label sent shit to him. But this…this was…
She pressed a kiss to his lips. “I think the words you’re thinking of are, thank you.”
“Thank you,” he said, though it took all his vocal training to keep the words from cracking.
He fucking loved it. Not only that it was from her, but it was perfection.
“We should head down to breakfast.” She moved from the bed to the bathroom. “Then I’ve got to go.”
He’d asked the housekeeper to drop off new clothes for Becca and another welcome-to-Linx’s-basket full of all the shit Courtney loved. His sister had good taste, so he figured Becca would probably like it, too.
All of it was now in his bathroom, waiting for Becca. He liked that. The feeling of taking care of another person. Hell, aside from music, it was his own form of macramé bracelet-making.
By the time she emerged showered, dressed, and ready for breakfast, he’d already fielded two calls from his management team, checking in about the Bax and Knox issues, and replied to what felt like three dozen e-mails.
The kitchen was quiet when they got there. This wasn’t a total shock, given that his parents were not night owls and they’d been out late the night before. Staying up late meant sleeping in. Courtney was usually up early though, even when she stayed up late. His sister never seemed to need the sleep of a normal human.
Normal being a relative term he used to describe himself and his own needs.
“Can I start the coffee?” Becca asked, already heading to the coffeepot and grabbing the carafe from the hot plate.
