Page 132 of Rock Giant

The one they’d chosen together.

The one that didn’t divorce her from everyone she loved.

“Getting tongue strain.”

“It’s okay,” she assured, reaching for him, cupping his cheeks.He crawled upward, bringing his mouth to hers.“We’re good, yeah?We’re good.Did I do good?”

“Nash—”

“Just let me.”He brought a hand down between them, lined them up.“Lift your legs a bit.”

He made a sharp inhale as he entered her.The one she made as an echo, prompted more by muddled emotions than anything physical.

“You’re so special.I love you, Jo.Say you love me too.”

“Of course, I love you.”

“Of course you do.”He kissed her again, then braced his forearms either side of her head and started thrusting.She stroked his arms and tried to stay grounded in the moment, even as tears leaked from her eyes.She made all the noises he expected of her.Cried out in faked ecstasy, mimicking the sounds that tore open his mouth and made his chest arch away from her as he came.

In contrast, the tears that dribbled down her cheeks and that he kissed away so tenderly were all too real.

“It’s okay, I forgive you.I forgive you, Jo.I forgive you.It’s all fine now.We’re together.All fixed.We’re getting married.We’re getting married soon.”

“Soon?”

“Yes, soon.”He wiped her cheeks dry.“Can’t wait to make you wholly mine.Let’s give notice the moment we’re back home and book a venue.”

How soon was that?A few days?

“Yes?”he prompted.

So, in a month and a few days, she’d be his wife.She’d be secure.

“Yes, okay.Okay.”

It was the right choice.The only choice...

CHAPTER 37

Paul “Rock Giant” Reed

Trondheim

“No headache today, I trust.”

Paul looked up from his crochet to find Xane resting against the sink unit in the tour bus kitchen.“No,” he said.“Not today.Sorry about the lip.”Whatever swelling had resulted had gone, but there remained a nick in Xane’s lower lip about half an inch left of his piercing.

“Forgiven.It got me at least a dozen sympathy shags.”

Paul and Ash had rejoined the tour as they’d rolled into the outskirts of Trondheim late the previous evening, past the point of the night when anyone was up for talking.Even given the hours they all regularly kept, some conversations were better left until daylight.

“I’m assuming that face isn’t down to the folk museum being closed today?”

Direct it wasn’t, but in over a decade of band life, Paul couldn’t recall Xane ever having asked him anything quite so prying.Sure, it sounded like a simple observation about Paul’s demeanour due to one of his favourite activities being off the agenda, but it wasn’t.It was more than that.The clue being the hesitation in their lead singer’s pale eyes.No contact lenses yet; he’d only recently rolled out of bed and was now wandering about in a pair of beaten-up black jeans, bare-footed, and nursing a brew strong enough to induce angina.

Paul set down his crochet hook.He still had to concentrate on what he was doing to not to constantly muck it up and drop stitches, but it had kept both his mind and his hands busy these last few days.Ginny or one of the girls had thoughtfully packed it for him when they’d thrown his survival bag into the boot of the Danger Car for his road trip with Ash.He’d manged a hat a day during their sojourn and was aiming to maintain his record.Crochet, it turned out, really helped with keeping his mind out of his Bergen hotel room.

“Haven’t seen your girl around much.”