Page 6 of Love Loathe Devotion (Tightrope #3)

Later that night, I can’t shake her from my mind. And then, as fate would have it, Lucas brings her up.

“So, I heard you met Laney,” he says, setting his beer down on the table between us.

His tone is casual, but there is something weighty underneath it. I raise an eyebrow. “Word travels fast.”

Lucas nods. “Rusty told me what happened at the shop. You stepping in with Randy.” He exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I appreciate that, but I gotta be real with you, man.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

Lucas sighs, leaning forward. “Laney’s been through a lot. She’s strong, but she doesn’t need another man coming into her life only to leave her with more scars.”

I lean back, considering his words. “I don’t play games, Lucas.”

“Good. Then steer clear.”

The warning was clear, and I respect him enough to listen. Even if I don’t like it, the thought of not seeing her again is sitting like lead in my belly.

But that doesn’t mean she isn’t still in my head.

The conversation turns to the Kidney Pool, and I fill him in on my plan to have a local concert with a sign-up for the drive on the door.

My agent was ecstatic about the idea, not seeing it for what it was, the chance to help a friend, but as a source of publicity to help my image.

I don’t care as long as it gets what we need, which is a kidney for the sweet boy we all love so much.

“Anything we can do? Sam and I don’t want to leave this all to you.”

I shake my head as I down the last of my beer. “Nah, I got this. Just turn up at the concert and promise not to sing.”

Lucas snorts a laugh as I’d intended. “Asshole, I have an exceptional singing voice.”

I cup my ears as he begins to croon. “God, please no.”

“Seriously though, if you want to be there for the meeting, I’ll send you the details.”

Lucas nods. “We do, we want to know that we’re doing all we can too.”

“You got it.”

We end the night with him laughing and me feeling a little better knowing I’m doing something to help Joey. Yet I can’t get the image of my little spitfire out of my head or my dreams.

I throw myself into work, focusing on setting up the pooled kidney donation pledge for Lucas’s son, Joey.

The initial meeting with the transplant coordinator had gone well and using my platform to raise awareness feels like the least I can do.

We have a solid plan of what we need to do next.

A lot of behind-the-scenes stuff will happen between my team and the transplant coordinator.

I’d been shocked at how many people lose their lives every year because of a lack of donors.

Joey deserves a shot, and if my name can help find him a match, I’ll do whatever it takes.

I step outside after the meeting and turn to find Lucas’s wife, Sam, walking towards me.

I glance back to see Lucas still talking to the transplant coordinator.

Sam smiles as she reaches me and wraps her arms around my waist. I automatically embrace her back, my gaze sliding to Lucas who is shaking his head with a smirk but remains listening to whatever the other woman is saying.

“Not that I don’t love having a beautiful woman in my arms, but what did I do to deserve this?”

Sam looks up at me through watery eyes, a tremulous smile on her lips. “You’re giving me something that I’ll never be able to repay, Eddie.”

I chuff a laugh, not wanting the emotions she’s displaying to get to me. I’m a sucker for a woman’s tears, they get me every time.

“It’s only a hug, Sam. You need me to beat some sense into Lucas for you? ’Cos if a hug elicits this reaction, then my boy’s been falling down on the job.”

Sam shakes her head and slaps me in the gut before stepping away, the tears drying but the smile beaming. “Asshole. Lucas is perfect as he is.”

I like hearing her say that about my friend. I love these two together, they are the epitome of what love should look like, and no matter what shit they are enduring right now, they always seem to love one another through it.

“No, you gave me, hope, Eddie. Hope that my son might have a future that doesn’t involve hospitals and tests. That he can be a normal little boy.”

Fuck . My chest aches at the raw pain tinged with so much love and hope.

I can’t do anything but pull her back into my arms and kiss her head.

“Sam, it’s nothing, really. I should have thought of it sooner and this isn’t a guarantee.

” The last thing I want is for her to get her hopes up only to have them shot to pieces.

“I know but I have a good feeling about this.”

“Hey, asshole, when you’ve finished mauling my wife, I need a word.”

I release Sam slowly so as to piss Lucas off a little more, but I know there’s no heat in his statement.

He pulls her to his side, locking her against him and I watch as her body softens into his and the tension in his shoulders ease.

As if just being together makes everything better.

I want that, I realize, and my mind instantly goes to Laney.

It’s instinctual, my brain has no plan, just the instant vision of the little spitfire and how she’d felt in my arms for that brief moment when we collided.

“Eddie?”

I shake my head and focus on Lucas. “Yeah, sorry, I was thinking about a song lyric.” A lie but he nods so it’s fine.

“I just wanted to thank you again.”

I hold up my hand. “Brother, stop. You guys are family to me and you’d do the same, so stop with the thanks. I appreciate it but it’s not necessary. Now, go see your boy and give him a hug from his uncle Eddie.”

We say our goodbyes and I leave, feeling good about the plan we had. It wasn’t a guarantee as I’d said to Sam but there is a much higher chance now that Joey will get a kidney.

The air is cool but the sun bleeds through and gives the day a bright feel. Deciding to walk through the park, I text my driver and let him know to meet me on the other side. The music label insist I have security and my compromise is a driver.

My mind is still buzzing with everything—Joey’s situation, the logistics, my shit with the record label and their demands that I straighten out my image before the tour, and, despite myself, Laney.

Then I hear it.

A voice—soft but strong, familiar in a way I can’t place at first. And then I catch the lyrics.

One of my songs.

I follow the sound, weaving through the small crowd gathered around a busker. And there she is.

Laney.

Her voice wraps around my words like she owns them, and I feel it straight in my chest. Raw, powerful, beautiful.

She sings like she means every word, and damn if I’m not completely captivated.

It’s not just that she’s technically good—though she is, effortlessly so—it’s the way she pours emotion into every line, her voice full of longing and heartbreak.

It feels like she knows the song better than I do, like she’s lived every damn lyric.

My feet stop moving. I just stand there, listening, watching. The world around me fades, and all I can hear is her. It’s the first time in a long while that I’ve heard one of my songs and felt something new, something electric.

Then she looks up.

Our eyes lock, and it’s like the whole world stills.

The attraction between us sparks hot and undeniable. I see the exact moment she realizes who I am—her breath hitches, her fingers falter slightly on the guitar, and then, just as quickly, she turns away, rushing to pack up.

But I’m not about to let her run off that easily.

I step forward, closing the distance between us. “You always steal a man’s song and then run away before he can thank you properly?”

Her hands are still over her guitar case, her shoulders tensing before she turns to face me, her eyes guarded. “Didn’t realize you owned music now.”

I grin. “Not all music. Just that one.”

She rolls her eyes but can’t quite hide the twitch of her lips. “Guess I should’ve asked for permission first.”

“Hell no,” I say, stepping closer. “I think I like it better when you just take what you want.”

Her breath catches for just a second before she shakes her head like she’s trying to clear it. “Well, thanks for the… approval, I guess. But I need to go.”

“Where?” I ask, genuinely curious. “Got another show to play?”

She hesitates, something flickering in her expression before she shoves her guitar into the case. “Something like that.”

I frown. She’s too damn good to be busking for spare change. “Laney… why are you out here?”

Her gaze snaps to mine, defensive. “Why does it matter?”

“Because you’ve got a voice that should be selling out venues, not playing to a bunch of distracted park-goers who don’t know how lucky they are.”

She huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “Not everyone gets a golden ticket, cowboy.”

I want to argue. Want to tell her she deserves more than this, that she has something real, something rare. But I can see the walls coming up, the way she’s already half-turned to leave.

So instead, I just say, “Maybe not. But I’d sure as hell like to hear you sing again.”

She blinks, caught off guard, before giving me a small smile. “We’ll see.”

I step closer a desperate need to stop her from leaving enveloping me. “Laney, wait.”

She regards me, her full lips drawing my gaze as I imagine them wrapped around my length, her pretty eyes leaking tears down her cheeks as she takes my cock in her throat.

Fuck.

“What?”

“What happened after the tattoo incident? Did dick noggin come after you?”

Her smile is small, but it makes me want to fall to my knees and worship her. It lit the evening with magic. I never chased women, in fact, I’d spent so long keeping my distance from anything real, that this feeling of having to chase some kind of reaction from her is heady.

“Dick noggin?”

I smirk, shoving my hands into my pockets instead of reaching for her and hauling her against me like I want.

I need to taste her, to feel her submit to me, to drink in everything about her, but I knew that if I did she would run.

She’s fragile under all her tough bravado and I want to protect her as much as I want to fuck her until she can’t remember anything but my name.

“It seems like a good name for him.”

“It is. And no, he didn’t come after me.”

Her words say one thing but I can tell she’s holding something back from me.

I want to root out her secrets and know she trusts me to keep her safe.

That in itself is ridiculous because we barely know each other and yet, I feel like I know her, like my soul recognizes her in some way.

I decide not to push that particular subject. “Can I get your number?”

Laney cocks her head and behind her I catch sight of my driver pulling up to the entrance to the park on the other side.

“Why?”

Her response stuns me for a second before I begin to laugh and shake my head. This woman is something else and I love it.

“Because I want to call you or text you and get to know you.” I rub my thumb along my bottom lip as I contemplate her. “You know, I don’t usually have to work so hard for a number.”

Laney shrugs. “Hardship is good for the soul.”

I step closer, crowding her slightly and see the pulse in her neck flutter wildly. Interesting, she might act unaffected by me but her body says something else. “I didn’t say it was a hardship, spitfire.”

My voice has dropped and her eyes dilate in response, her breath catching. “Give me your phone.” I hold out my hand for her phone. I’m not sure she’ll give it to me but I really fucking hope she takes the chance.

I watch the battle play out on her expressive face before she dips her head and hands it over. “Good girl.”

Her sharply indrawn breath makes my cock harden and I have to concentrate as I key in my number and then call myself, before handing it back. I watch as she tucks it away and then picks up her guitar case.

“You need a ride?”

Laney shakes her head. “Nah, my friend is meeting me.”

I nod and watch her walk away and not once does she look back, but I can’t take my eyes off her. Even after she’s long since disappeared, I find myself lingering and replaying our exchange.