Page 29 of Until Easton

"Fuckin' hell," Jake grumbles, and we all follow his line of sight. That's when I see Quinn, Emerson's husband, step out the front door of the house with a drumstick in one hand and a biscuit in the other.

"Quinn!" Emerson hisses.

"What?" Quinn says around a mouth full of food.

"You can't just go into someone else's house and eat their food."

"I'm starving, Sunshine. We've been on the road for hours."

"We ate an hour ago, dipshit," Logan barks.

Emerson sighs. "That's like ten hours in Quinn land." She then looks at me. "I'm so sorry. I can't take him anywhere."

I throw my head back and laugh. "It's okay."

"You see there, baby." Quinn steps off the porch and makes his way toward our group. "Becca doesn't mind." He peers over at me and grins. "Nice to meet ya, darlin'."

11

EASTON

Sitting here, surrounded by my family and having Becca at my side, gives me an inner peace I've never felt before. I've never felt as grounded. Turning my head, I stare at Becca and watch her laugh at something Quinn says and feel my lips lift in a smile because of the sound of her happiness.

"Hold up. There's more where that came from," Quinn grins. "What goes in hard and dry but comes out soft and wet?" he looks at Becca, waiting for her to guess.

Becca's eyes dart around. "Oh, um…" her cheeks turn a light shade of blush.

"Come on." Quinn searches everyone's faces. "No one?" He waits another couple of seconds before blurting, "Gum!" He laughs hard at his own joke. "You thought I was about to say a cock, right? You guys are some dirty-minded fuckers." He shakes his head.

"I got one for ya." Becca's grandad stretches his legs out, propping them on a large log in front of him. "What does a bullfrog say when it's horny?" he grins. I've heard this joke before, as I suspect a few others have as well, but we don't dare steal his thunder. "Rub it." No sound is heard when he chuckles, but Arthur's shoulders shake.

"Daideò!" Becca gasps with a mix of shock and amusement in her voice.

"What, child? I may be getting old, but my funny bone is still intact."

Silence falls around us.

I lose myself in the flames of the bonfire, mesmerized by the flickering lights. The dry, withered wood smells of deep, rich oak and pine as the logs burn. Within the flames, where the fire burns hottest, bright flickers of blue glow. The sounds of hissing, cracking, and sizzling mix with the croaking tree frogs and chirping crickets.

"Easton." Emerson jolts me from my hypnotic state, and I give her my attention. "You bring your guitar?"

I nod. "Never leave home without it."

"Play something for us?"

I go to stand, but Becca leaps to her feet. "I'll get it. You stay with your family." She turns to walk away, and I grab her by the hand, pulling her back to me.

"Come here," I tell her, tugging her down until we are face to face, her lips hovering above mine. I'm hyper aware of the sets of eyes on us, but I couldn't care less. Becca is mine. "Give me those lips," I tell her, and she presses them softly against mine.

"Another one bites the dust," Quinn quips as my eyes fixate on Becca's retreating backside on her way toward the house.

A few short minutes later, Becca returns with my guitar in hand. "Any requests?" I ask my biggest fans.

"Got anything new you've been working on?" Reid inquires, and one song comes to mind. It's unfinished, rough, and raw, but no other words float to the surface as the lyrics fill my headspace.

"It's not finished, but…" I strum the guitar strings feeling the chords vibrate through my fingertips. The music I play becomes the sound of my heart beating, and the lyrics my confession. My words fill the air effortlessly while my eyes never leave Becca's. This is me, unfiltered and exposed.

I was drowning in loneliness.