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CHAPTER TWENTY

Jade

Royal throws his head back and laughs.

Really laughs.

I don't think I’ve ever heard him laugh like this, and the sound is…wonderful. The look on his face, the pure joy in his eyes, catches me off-guard. He’s already the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, but this side of him makes him a veritable heartbreaker. And Amber is a moron. What kind of woman abandons the man she supposedly loves after an accident like that?

“You’re something, Shortcake.” He brushes his mouth over mine, hovering, a smile still playing on his lips. “Thanks for making me laugh.”

“Was what I said funny?” I wrinkle my nose.

“Honey, I’m almost positive I’ve never heard the word strumpet used in real life before.”

I blush. “It was Grandma’s favorite word for a woman she didn’t think much of—and she wouldn’t have liked Amber at all.” I pause. “I don’t either.”

“Yeah, sometimes I still have a hard time believing I married her,” he says thoughtfully.

“Did your friends like her?” I ask curiously. “Banks and Briar and the others?”

“Not particularly. They didn’t dislike her, because in retrospect it seems like she was on her best behavior around them, but she didn’t really spend much time with them either. I was touring then, and she was with me, so we didn’t get together very often. Looking back, that probably should have been a huge red flag, but you know what they say about hindsight.”

“Well, she was a fool,” I say, putting my hand on the side of his face. “She didn’t know what she had.”

“Oh, I think she knew—she just didn’t want it anymore.”

“Like I said, she was a fool.”

Our gazes lock, and the ever-present cloud of electricity seems to surround us.

His lips capture mine, his kisses soft and sensual, teasing, playful.

There might not be anything I enjoy more than the playful version of Royal.

Except maybe passionate, sexy Royal.

“I’m hungry,” he says, rolling over. “You wore me out.”

“ I wore you out?” I counter, laughing. “I beg to differ.”

“Are you hungry?” he asks pointedly.

I have to admit, my stomach could be down for a snack. “I could eat,” I say, getting to my feet.

We pad into the kitchen together and I rummage in the fridge. “Cheese, crackers, fruit…impromptu charcuterie board?”

“Sounds good.”

I pull out a handful of things that look good and begin arranging them on a platter I found on a top shelf. I hum as I work, slicing cheese and strawberries, adding a dollop of apricot jam, arranging the crackers, and placing a few slices of salami. I sprinkle a handful of grapes and turn to find Royal watching me with a smile.

“What?”

“Like I said, you’re something,” he says, stroking a finger along my jaw. “That looks amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you spend a lot of time in the kitchen?”

“When I’m home, yes. Obviously, not when I’m touring or traveling, but I like to putter. That’s when I get most of my song ideas.”

“You were humming something just now.”

“Midnight Snow,” I admit then sigh contentedly. “It looks so pretty outside and reminds me of when I was little and we’d have snowball fights. Me, my parents, my grandparents…the whole thing was kind of magical.”

“Yeah?” He follows my gaze and smiles. “When was the last time you had a snowball fight?”

“Years.”

A slow, sexy smile. “I could change that.”

I arch my brows. “I thought you were hungry?”

“I am, but a snowball fight at midnight with the most gorgeous woman I know sounds like a lot more fun.”

I gaze out at the yard longingly.

It does sound like fun.

“I have to put on more clothes!” I say, practically running from the room.

And five minutes later we’re outside, the floodlights on, a light snow still falling from the sky.

It’s cold but I’m bundled up in sweats and gloves, a scarf, hat, and my winter coat. Royal is wearing sweats too, and a jacket, but doesn’t seem nearly as concerned with the cold as I am.

“That isn’t fair!” I tell him. “You’re barely wearing anything—you have more mobility.”

He rumbles out a laugh. “You’re welcome to take off some layers.”

And before I can react, he wings a snowball at me, catching me right in the face. He didn’t throw it hard, and the snow is still soft and fluffy, but I sputter indignantly anyway.

“ That was not fair.” I pack a bunch of snow together in my hands and give him the evil eye. “And now you’re going to pay.”

“Uh-huh.” He laughs and dances out of the way.

I toss a few more snowballs in his direction, most of them woefully off-target, until one finally lands on the top of his head, sending clumps of snow down his face and onto his shoulders and chest.

“Now you’re in trouble!” He growls playfully, scooping up a mountain of snow using both arms.

I shriek and make a run for it, tripping and landing face first in a snowbank.

“Jade!” I feel Royal behind me, lifting me out of my icy blanket. “You okay, Shortcake?”

He looks worried but I’m giggling, sputtering and shaking the flakes from my eyes. “I’m fine. Just a bit of a klutz.”

He wraps his arms around me, pressing a kiss on the tip of my nose. “But a very sexy klutz.”

I nestle closer and we stand there for a few seconds, staring up at the night sky. It’s snowing harder now, probably an indication it’s time to go back inside, but it’s so pretty I can’t make myself move.

“It’s midnight,” he whispers, glancing at his watch.

“And snowing,” I say, tilting up my face expectantly.

He doesn’t disappoint.

His lips find mine with a sweetness I’ve never felt from anyone.

How is this guy real?

And how am I supposed to go back to reality when this snow-filled fantasy is over?

The snow finally stops falling, plows come to clear the roads, and by day six, it’s time to go. I woke up nestled in Royal’s arms again this morning, we had breakfast together, made love in the shower, and now we’re on our way to the airport.

I don’t know where the time went.

Or what’s going to happen next.

And I’m a little afraid to ask.

But I have to.

I’m going home to Nashville—for the first time in over a month—and he’s heading to L.A. Our paths likely won’t cross again unless we make plans.

“Royal?” Our fingers are twined between us in the car driving me to the airport.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Am I going to see you again?”

He’s quiet for what feels like a long time.

So much so my heart starts to sink.

I was prepared for disappointment—but not how bad it actually feels.

“Is that what you want?” he asks after long seconds ticked by. “I’m not good for you, Jade. I’m not good for anyone.”

“Says who?” I shake my head. “You don’t scare me, Royal Ewing.”

“But I should.” He turns his head, his eyes searching mine. “I’m broken. Scarred. And surly as fuck. Why would you even want this?”

“You’re also handsome and talented and strong. Most people would have given up after what you went through—but you’re still here, writing music, supporting your friends, and being the world’s best uncle to a little girl who worships the ground you walk on. Children know when someone is inherently bad. So Frankie wouldn’t love you the way she does if you were.”

Something akin to gratitude flickers behind his eyes, and then he does what he always seems to do when he wants to avoid an emotional conversation?—

He kisses me.

And I let him because…well, because I like it. Because I know it’s not a sexual deflection so much as a way for him to show me what he’s not always able to articulate.

Feelings are hard for Royal.

I discovered that pretty quickly, so now I have a better handle on what he needs from me.

Assuming he wants to see me again.

We’ve arrived at the airport and the car is slowing down, which means I need an answer, one way or the other. It will hurt—a lot—if he doesn’t want to see me again, but now that I know what he’s been through, I’m not going to add to the stress in his life.

“I have to go,” I whisper, breaking the kiss.

“I know.” He presses his lips to my forehead, the tip of my nose, the underside of my jaw.

“Royal, if you don’t want to see me again, please just be honest. I don’t like being ghosted. It hurts too much and it’s disrespectful. We’re adults. If our weekend was just another one-off?—”

“No. Stop.” He puts a gentle finger on my lips. “That’s not what it was. We both know that. I just don’t want to hurt you again. I don’t know that I’m…boyfriend material. Not anymore.”

“Shouldn’t that be for me to decide?”

“I’m not always nice.”

“We’ll work on it.”

His lips twitch, as if he’s fighting a smile.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Ms. Cantrell?” John cracks open the door. “Are you ready?”

“I have to go,” I whisper to Royal.

He presses his lips to mine. Hard.

There’s a promise in that kiss.

I feel it.

I’m not sure what the promise is, but it’s there.

“Call me when you get home and we’ll figure something out,” he says in a gruff voice. “That okay?”

“Yes.” Relief and happiness wash over me. “It’s more than okay.”

It’s not over.

The trip is over, but we aren’t over.

There’s no time to celebrate, though. John is waiting patiently, so I start to get out of the car. Only to find myself halting when Royal gently tugs the back of my jacket.

“Jade?”

“Yes?” I look over my shoulder at him.

His blue eyes burn into mine. “‘Midnight Snow’ is going to be your next big hit.”

“Our next big hit,” I correct firmly.

One side of his mouth quirks up. “ Our next big hit.”