Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Thinking about my mother hurts my heart. She never cared about my siblings or me. It was always more about what we could do for her. My grandmother was the woman who taught me about Loretta Shaw and Johnny Loveless. She was the woman who nurtured me, taught me how to play two instruments, and wiped away my tears when I hurt.
“Hey, beautiful. You okay?” Gunner sneaks up on me, puts his arms around my waist, and pulls me to him.
I quickly wipe away my tears, hoping to hide it from him.
“Hey, Cash, baby. Why are you crying?”
“I’m thrilled for you. You’re finally getting your mother back,” I say, turning to hug him, desperate to hide my pain in his strong chest.
Gunner pulls away, holding my face in his hands as he searches for the truth. “Don’t give me that shit. Something is wrong. What is it?”
“I was thinking about my fucked-up relationship with my mother. It hurts sometimes, you know?” A tear betrays me, escaping from my eye.
“Oh, baby…” Gunner pulls me to him, his touch wiping away all the pain. In his arms, I can finally breathe.
With Gunner, I’m finally free to be who I am. He asks nothing of me. He has no expectations or judgments. He only wants to love me as I am, not what I could be for him.
“I love you, Gunner,” I whisper, letting the tears tumble down my face, soaking his shirt.
He doesn’t push away. He continues to hold me, letting me know it will be okay and I’m safe. I appreciate that more than he can ever know.
“I love you too, Cash. More than I ever thought possible. I knew you were a firecracker when you walked into my bar, but now you’re my firecracker. I wasn’t joking about those babies. With you, I see a family, a home filled with love and laughter. I want to grow old with you, to sit on our porch with little grandkids running around, asking us to play guitars and have singalongs. Now that I have you, I’m never letting you go.”
“Are you asking me to marry you, Gunner Shaw?”
“No. When I do that, it will be special. My girl deserves the perfect proposal. I’m telling you I’m going to, soon. It’s up to me to keep you on your toes, pop star.”
Gunner’s words make a rumble of laughter escape my lips. With him, even in the sadness, I feel so much joy.
“This was pretty perfect,” I whisper, gazing into his eyes.
“No, baby, you are perfect. I’m going to make sure you always have my best. Forever.”
Chapter 21
Gunner
I tap the side of my leg, proof that my nerves are riding right at the edge. It’s not every day you ask the love of your life to marry you.
I want the entire world to know this woman is mine.
Now, all I have to do is ask.
The moment my eyes land on her front door, my heart pounds. I knock instead of walking in without warning as I usually do. I love catching Cash off guard because she usually walks around in panties and one of my T-shirts. My hand moves to my thickening cock, adjusting it as she opens the door.
Her hair is in a messy ponytail, her reading glasses perched on her nose, and a giant smile lifts her cheeks.
A smile just for me.
I push through the door, encircling her in my arms and spinning her. “You’re a vision, future Mrs. Shaw.”
She giggles as she tries to wiggle out of my grip. “I don’t need your sarcasm today, Shaw. I was up most of the night writing my next Billboard number-one album.”
“Is that so?” I hum against her neck, walking us through the massive wooden doors and kicking it closed with my boot. “I’ve been working on something, too.”
“Oh, yeah?” She nods at the guitar on the worn leather sofa.
Instead of dropping her at my feet, I carry her to the couch, settling her into the oversized cushions before depositing a slow kiss on her warm lips.
“Ready for some magic?” I tease, nipping at her bottom lip as I pull away.
Her tiny fingers clutch at my collar, pulling me back in. I settle between her thighs, already desperate to be inside her. I saw her yesterday afternoon when I dropped her off before my shift at the bar, but it feels like a fucking eternity.
“Hit me with your magic, Shaw. I want to hear Gutless Void’s next number-one hit written by the magician known as Dirtbag,” she murmurs against my lips.
I grin, getting control of myself long enough to pull away and slide the guitar between us. “Okay…”
I strum a few notes, and she leans forward, legs entwined with mine, as I play the opening tune. Finally, the first few words of the song start, and before I’ve even finished the first verse, she’s wiping away tears.