Author: Olivia Cunning

She got to work. Since Eric was already at his drum kit, she did his sound check first. Within two minutes, Marcus headed over to bitch at her. “You need to get the guitar amps hooked up before you start the drum sound check.”

Even though he was standing way too close to emphasize his height, she didn’t back down. Not an inch. “You do things your way, and I do things mine.”

Marcus stared with his mouth hanging open. She turned back to her soundboard, ignoring him as he stood gawking after her. By the time she had Eric sounding awesome, the crew had the white baby grand piano set up stage right. She worked out a few different mic setups. Eventually, Jace wandered in to help her get the piano acoustics right by playing the intro to “Sever” over and over until she was satisfied with his sound.

“Sounds great, Reb!” Travis called from the stage rigging high above. He was doing something with a laser light and trying to get it lined up with the piano. The shiny white paint would pick up the colors of the light show. Rebekah couldn’t wait to see it in action.

“Don’t blind me while I’m playing,” Jace called up to him.

“Do you mind playing it one more time?” Rebekah said. “I think I’ve got it, but I want to make sure.”

Jace grinned and nodded. The guy was so freakin’ cute with his bleached blond spikes and dark beard stubble. His sweet little smile coupled with the downward cast of his dark eyes had her momentarily befuddled. When Jace’s fingers swept across the keyboard, she snapped out of it.

“That piano intro is awesome, Jace,” Rebekah said as he finished the piece again. “Did you write it?”

Jace flushed and shook his head. “Brian wrote the original as a guitar solo, and Eric adapted it to the piano. I just play it.”

“Does the new album have a lot of piano segments?”

Jace shook his head again. “Just a couple. We weren’t sure how the fans would respond. So far, they seem to like it.”

Eric appeared next to Rebekah. “Understatement. The single is doing better than any in our past. Tripod, you rule!” Eric knuckle-bumped Jace, who beamed at his compliment.

Jon Mallory wrinkled his nose and kept trying to get the bass line of the song right. Since it wasn’t one of the songs he’d written when he’d been part of the band, Jon had never played it before. Which was quite obvious by the chaotic sounds coming from his instrument.

“Damn it. I cannot get this triplet thing,” Jon complained. “Why the fuck did you have to make it so complicated?”

“Because Tripod is awesome,” Eric said. “I inspired him to become a bassist, you know.”

Rebekah smiled at his obvious pride. “I did not know that.”

“I wish I’d never told him,” Jace said. He slid from the piano bench. “I’m never going to live it down.”

“A man’s got to brag when he has a reason to,” Eric said and pounded Jace on the back enthusiastically.

Rebekah laughed. “I think you’re supposed to be humble about stuff like that.”

“Psssh, fuck that. Always take credit where credit is due. Especially when you’re solely responsible for inspiring the best bassist who ever lived.”

Jace flushed.

“Whatever,” Jon grumbled.

“Come on, Jon,” Jace said. “I’ll work on the bass line with you.” He strode over to the side of the stage and picked up his shiny black bass guitar.

Jon looked torn between offense and gratitude. He sighed loudly and nodded. “I don’t want to fuck it up. Sed’s looking for a reason to hire a studio musician and send me packing.”

“You could always play a recorded track,” Rebekah suggested.

Eric looked at her as if she’d just called his mama a fat whore.

“No?” she said.

“No fucking way. I can’t believe that you’d even suggest it. What do you think we are? Fucking cop-outs?”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t think I can ever forgive you.” He turned his back and strode off.

She watched his retreating back for a scant minute before chasing after him. She must have pushed the wrong button. She hadn’t meant to. When she caught up with him in the middle of the stage, she grabbed his arm and hurried to get in front of him. “I’m sorry, Eric. I didn’t know—”

His attempts to keep a serious expression failed, and his scowl faltered into a grin. “Gotcha.”

Rebekah poked him in the belly, and he laughed. “You were teasing me?”

“Not really. We’re known for our live performance. We really wouldn’t consider using a recorded track, but I’m not really offended that you suggested it.”

“Then why—”

“So you’d pay attention to me.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to your in-your-face honesty.”

His brow crinkled with concentration. “Is it a bad thing?”

“No, just not normal.” She bit her lip. That had come out entirely wrong. He just laughed.

“Normal is boring. I thought we were in agreement on that.”

Well, yeah, but while she struggled to be different, it came naturally to him. In a strange way, she envied his freedom to be himself.

“You are definitely not boring,” she told him. “I can’t keep up with you.”

“I think you’re doing a great job, actually. Most girls would have given up on me by now.”

She found that hard to believe. “Well, I’m not most girls.”

“That’s what I like about you most.”

And there he was just blurting it all out in the open, giving her no time to reflect or ponder or wonder. She knew exactly where he stood. She found it strangely refreshing after all the head games her mother and Isaac had put her through over the past several years.

“I haven’t decided what I like about you most,” she said with a teasing grin. “There’s just so much to like.”

Eric’s breath caught, and she found herself wrapped in his long arms and crushed against his hard chest. “Where have you been all my life?” He kissed the top of her head, his heart thudding like a bass drum against her ear.

Someone cleared his throat behind them.

“Go away,” Eric insisted and squeezed Rebekah more tightly.

“We need to rehearse, Sticks,” Sed said in an amused tone. “You can cuddle with your new girl later.”

Eric eased away slightly, and she craned her neck to look up at him.

“Can I cuddle with you later?” he asked her.

“I’d rather you watch me shower,” she whispered.

His entire body stiffened. Yes, his entire body. “Uh.” He squeezed her tightly again. “Are you serious?”

“Shhh. Go rehearse. I’ve got work to do.”

Once she got the guitar amps in sync with the soundboard—Trey and Brian were phenomenal—she returned to the stage to hook up Eric’s vocal mic.

“I think we’ll have to go with a headset model,” she told him. “You can’t flail around like you normally do, or it will fly off.” He held still while she slipped a headset into place and adjusted it. “Is that comfortable?”

“Do I look like a fighter pilot?” he asked, looking up at her from his stool with flashing blue eyes.

She grinned. “I don’t think that haircut is regulation, soldier.” She leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “Do you like to play dress-up in the bedroom?” She’d always thought it would be fun to pretend she was someone else while making love, and him asking if he looked like a fighter pilot had her envisioning multiple scenarios. Isaac had thought she was ridiculous when she’d mentioned wearing costumes. Isaac had thought most of her ideas were ridiculous. He was a very straitlaced individual. Very proper. A good man. He deserved a good wife. One who could give him children.

“What—you mean like you’d be an Amazonian woman and I’d be a fallen fighter pilot whose plane went down in the jungle? And because you saved my life, I must serve your every sexual fantasy to repay you?” he gushed.

Every guy in the crew and band laughed. Eric’s mic was on. He glanced around nervously, his face flushed.

“Yeah, exactly like that,” Rebekah murmured into his mic.

The laughter changed into tortured mutterings.

“Fuck, yeah. Let’s go.”

She pecked him on the lips and then stared into his eyes. “That was a rhetorical question.”

He slapped himself in the forehead. “You are very hard on my anatomy, baby.”

“You are really going to enjoy lesson two tomorrow,” she whispered into his ear and stepped away.

He growled and then entered into a spontaneous drum solo that had both arms and legs moving at a blur.

With Eric’s microphone, the final piece, in place, Sinners rehearsed their new song from beginning to end. Rebekah forgot her job duties for a moment as she watched in utter awe. Jace’s piano intro dropped her jaw. Jon had gotten the hang of the new bass line, and it was hard and heavy. Brian and Trey’s guitar riffs sounded sensational. Sed’s vocals unparalleled. When they reached the chorus, Eric’s voice came through the speakers, and Rebekah’s knees went weak. She didn’t think anything could top the combined vocals of Sed’s roars and Eric’s melody until Brian and Trey entered their dueling guitar solo in the middle of the song. Over a minute of six-stringed perfection, topped off by a short solo at the hand of Jace, who took over bass after he finished his piano intro. Eric’s drum line tied it together with a perfect rhythm, and Rebekah remembered why she’d fallen in love with this band’s music. They were perfect. It wasn’t until the song ended that she realized she should be making adjustments with the equalizer. She didn’t know if it was possible to improve what was already that exceptional. She put on her headset and spoke into her mic, which fed into the earpieces of the band members on stage and a few of the crew who needed to hear instructions.

“That was amazing, guys. Can we do that again from the top so I can make a few adjustments?”

“Reb, you sound so sexy,” Eric’s voice came through the loudspeaker.

“And I thought Brian was the romantic retard of the group,” Sed teased, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, she does, doesn’t she?” Eric persisted.

“I am in total agreement,” Trey said. “I’d much rather listen to Rebekah’s sexy voice than Dave and Marcus.”

Rebekah’s heart thudded in her chest. What was it about Trey Mills that worked a girl up so quickly? It was as if the timbre of his voice linked to some seduction center in the brain and demanded instant submission to his will. He didn’t even have to try.

They worked through the afternoon. The guys didn’t seem to mind Rebekah’s nitpickiness at all. Apparently, it was as important to them that they got the song perfect as it was to her. She’d never felt as blessed as she felt working with such a professional and talented group of musicians as Sinners. They’d worked straight through lunch, and the opening bands wanted their turn at a rehearsal before the show, so they adjourned backstage for a meal. The venue had provided snack trays of lunch meat and cheese and crackers. Veggies and dips. Fruit and snack foods. Nothing worthy of feeding hardworking men. Rebekah wished she had time to cook them a great meal. She’d be sure to make it up to them the following night. While she filled her own tiny plate with bits of roast beef and cheddar cheese and miniature pieces of bread, Eric cut in line to stand beside her.

“You’re doing a great job,” he said.

She glanced at him and smiled. “You sound surprised.”

“I think we were all kind of worried that Dave wanted you to take his place just to make you happy, but you’re actually great. I’d hire you even if you weren’t related to Dave.”