He wasn’t wrong, but—
“We should do something different.” She thought about that. “Unexpected.”
Something that would get them more attention than doing the usual…
“We could rent a cabin up in Estes Park?” she suggested.
He wrinkled his nose. “With the bugs?”
“I was thinking it’s unique, and then we can pop into town often for paparazzi photos. Boom. Rocker and actress not doing the usual same ol’, same ol’.”
He shook his head. “The problem with a cabin in the mountains is it doesn’t come with a tropical beach.”
Grr. “Maybe you should just let me handle specifics and you just show up and smile.”
“If there are bugs, then I want them to come with white sand and a Mai Tai. Otherwise, whatever you want works fine.” He strode back to the keyboard and went back to tapping out the melody of the new song.
No bugs, white beach, ugh.
This was going to be harder than she’d thought. She pulled the red dress photo from the binder and folded it before dropping it into the waste bin. Long ago she’d decided that her life wasn’t about red dresses, white beaches, or prickly tingling brought on by her groom. Not at all.
Chapter Two
KNOX
The paparazzi tookthe engagement bait like he and Irina were an honest to goodness couple. This was great, because now he had photographers setting up shop in the bushes out in front of his house, but also bad, because he had to talk to his parents to tell them about the wedding.
“Are yousureyou want to get married?” Dad asked, not buying it for a second. “I didn’t sleep the entire time I was married to your mother. The woman took all the blankets—and that was even before the divorce. So I have to ask once more, are you certain?”
“Uh-huh,” Knox said, dropping the curtain he’d been looking from behind to be sure none of the photogs stomped on his shrubs. The acknowledgement to his dad was not a lie, because he used more of a grunt than anything.
He held his cell against his ear with his shoulder, and continued to mostly ignore his dad. Not totally, because he was his dad, and that would be rude.
Honestly? Knox didn’t want to get married, not really. Marriage was for the marrying type and that was not him.
He was more of the few-night stand type. Nothing too serious to interrupt him long term, but nothing too short, because that would require even more work. He was a fan of cutting corners on all things relationship, just enough to keep life easy.
The marriage brand of messiness didn’t belong in his life, not when he had a band he wanted to nurture and a house to renovate. (A fucking house that needed to be finished already.) He didn’t cut corners on those two things. Not anymore.
Not after he’d nearly lost the band and realized what really mattered in his life.
He swallowed a lump, because hehadcut corners with his band, and ithadnearly ruined the group. The guys were more than a band.
These men were his family. He didn’t have strong family bonds outside of them, and he wasn’t willing to risk losing them again.
His dad jabbered on about the multitude of complaints he’d had in his own marriage. Knox kept one ear on the conversation in case Dad asked a question that would require a response, and his eye on the room at large. He’d set up shop today on the smelly pink carpet of his soon-to-be living room. He’d bought the house because the bones were decent, yes, but mostly because of location. The end of the cul-de-sac where his bandmates also bought houses made sense for him to call home. Now he only had to wait for renovations to finish so he could actually move in.
The carpet was behind because of some ordering snafu, so they’d been working on everything else before it arrived. Then they’d paint. Then the new carpet would be installed.
Then his home would no longer smell like piss, and, bonus, it would not be the pink color of stomach relief medication, either.
After Irina had fully taken over the other room at Bax’s place, Knox had relocated here. With all the wedding bliss up in his grill, ignoring it was getting harder and harder.
It wasn’t like he minded bunking with Bax and Courtney…and Irina. But there were too many people in that house and, while he liked people, sometimes he didn’t. During those times, he preferred to hide out for a while and do his own thing. Walk around naked, binge some television, order fried chicken and Crumbl cookies.
There were way too many exposed nails in his current project of a home to do anything naked, but he’d bought a television and a beanbag chair to get him through the rest.
Besides, even with the pink carpet in place, the stainless-steel kitchen appliances were nearly out of the boxes, and the placewascoming together.
