Page 49 of All Tied Down

“You’re cute when you look like you want to decimate an entire civilization,” he says wryly, draping his arm over the back of the couch.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.”

“Really, are you okay? You’re sad and I’m not good with navigating sad.”

“You’re good at everything.”

“I’m good at solutions. I love problem-solving and kicking ass, but you need softness and I don’t always get that right.”

“But you do this,” he says as he grips my ankle and shakes it side to side, “and it’s just as good.”

I’m also terrible at receiving compliments like this—intimate ones with my husband and his soulful gaze.

“How did you come up with the name Descending North?”

“Music is like being suspended in time and space. The songs where you lose yourself and nothing else matters. Solace. Gratitude. Reprieve. All of it exists in those minutes and seconds, and I like that feeling of weightlessness.”

“Like a compass spinning out of control.”

“Like a compass spinning out of control,” he repeats as his lips curve up into a grin that rides the line between boyish mischief and filthy rock god.

It’s a heady combination.

“Doesn’t hurt that your last name is North either, I suppose.”

“A happy coincidence.” He dips his head as he speaks. “I didn’t mean for it to be my band, but it just happened that way. Organic. I knew what I wanted and the guys were on board. We could drive around in a van back and forth across the state and even the country, each of us taking turns at the wheel and never really getting on each other’s nerves. We just wanted to play, you know?”

“I do. When things are hard at work—when the problems seem too big—we scale back. We’ll turn that issue upside down, simplify the questions, and ask if it meets the basic needs of whatever we’re looking at. If it does, then we break for the day so we can return with a fresh perspective. If it doesn’t, then we vote on how to proceed.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it? You’re at the I have a problem and I need to come back and reassess part of the process. The band worked when you all had the same goals and wants individually and as a whole. It’s not unusual for things to change over time.”

“I don’t want it to change,” he admits and my heart squeezes.

Go to him.

I want to tell the little voice in my head to shut it because it will only complicate things down the road, but he was there for me with my dad and I can be there for him.

Setting my food down, I crawl across the cushions until I’m straddling his lap, his warm hands dropping to my hips like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m sorry you’re sad,” I tell him, pressing a featherlight kiss to the corner of his mouth and letting him taste me when his lips find mine.

“I hate that I care.”

“You’re allowed to care, Garrett.” Pulling back, I make sure he can see the sincerity in my gaze. “You’re supposed to care. That’s what makes you the face of Descending North. You’re also allowed to be pissed. Your dickface of a guitarist is hurting the thing that you love. He’s hurting you, and you’re allowed to determine when you’ve had enough.”

“Logical…” he muses, his fingertips sliding up under my shirt. “Sexy…” His breath is hot on the column of my throat as he presses a kiss against my fluttering pulse. “Powerful.”

“Are you trying to make me wet, Rockstar?”

He chuckles, and I arch my back, pushing my breasts into his face. My hand cups the back of his neck when he nuzzles against them. “Is it working?” he manages and I can’t help but smile.

“It might be.”

“Show me, Em. Take your pants off and ride my cock. Make a mess of me, baby.”