The Rhythm Method (Stage Dive 4.80) - Page 3

Pale arms wrapped around Mal’s middle as his redheaded wife Anne joined the conversation. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“But we discussed this,” said Mal. “I know we did.”

“Was this like the time we discussed turning one of the bedrooms into a giant ball pit? Or was I actually awake when this conversation happened?”

He shrugged. “Maybe not, now that you mention it. Tommy was around six months old, and he had one of those diaper explosions where it went right up the back. Never been so traumatized in all my life.”

“I thought one more might be nice.” Anne rested her head against his arm. “Maybe you could think about it.”

“We do make pretty babies.”

“This is true.”

“And you get incredibly horny when you’re pregnant. Once you stop puking, that is.”

“That’s not my fault,” said Anne. “There’s a lot of hormones going on. They stir things up in me, in both cases.”

Mal grinned. “Then the tit fairy visits. I love it when that happens. They get so sensitive.”

Anne looked to heaven, but there was no help forthcoming.

“But enough about you,” said Mal. “Really, the world deserves, nay needs, more of my DNA. Think of it, a legion of ridiculously good looking drumming artistes.”

David snorted.

“Shut up, Davie,” griped Mal. “Petty jealousy is beneath you, bro.”

“Hold on. A legion?” Anne’s brows rose. “I was just thinking of a sibling for Tommy.”

“Only one? How could you be so selfish, Pumpkin?”

A little line appeared between Anne’s brows as she stared at her husband in wonder or maybe bewilderment. Possibly both.

“If we had three then they could start a band and be like Hansen or the Jonas Brothers.”

“Oh, that’s definitely worth considering,” I added. Because encouraging the lunatic drummer sometimes was just an honor and a privilege.

“Thought they were all going to be drummers?” David tucked a strand of long hair behind his ear. “How’s that going to work?”

“Awesomely,” said Mal.

Anne held back laughter.

“No, Tommy. Please don’t put that up your nose. Thank you, son. I appreciate your restraint.” Mal gave his wife a look. “Definitely gets that from your side of the family, Pumpkin.”

“While it’s been great to share all of this deeply personal information with our nearest and dearest,” said Anne, “why don’t we revisit this topic once the tour is over and we’ve had a chance to catch our breath?”

Mal pressed a kiss to her lips.

Just then, the string quartet started playing Jackson by Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash. One of my all-time favorite songs and kind of relevant to how we’d started. Because we sure had gotten married in a fever. A drunken one. Next a stupendous croquembouche decorated with bright fresh flowers and golden lines of delicate spun sugar was wheeled in with much pomp and pageantry. Everyone started clapping.

“Cake,” yelled Tommy.

“Wow. Who did this?” I asked, my face hurting from smiling so hard.

Jimmy sketched me a bow from across the room, and I blew him a kiss. Best brother-in-law ever.

David slipped his hands beneath my hair, placing a white gold diamond solitaire pendant around my neck. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

“Oh my, God. It’s beautiful.” I wound my arms around his neck and held on tight. “Thank you.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I said, getting teary. “Everything is absolutely perfect.”

He gave me a devil may care grin. “And it’s going to stay that way.”

Chapter One

Everything was about as far from perfect as it could get. Life-altering things have a habit of happening to me on bathroom floors. Approximately seven years and eight and a bit months ago I woke up in Vegas hungover and married to a rock star. Now this was happening…

“Oh, fuck!”

Another tight and terrible cramp seized me around the middle. I gritted my teeth and panted and just generally did my best to live through it. Damn, it hurt. And they were coming closer together now. Somehow I was going to have to get to my feet and reach the cell I’d left on the bed. I’d put off calling an ambulance, but this was ridiculous. Obviously something was very wrong. The pain eased, though the general tightness didn’t. But at least I could catch my breath.

Why the hell did this have to happen now, today of all days? I was looking forward to joining David for the last few cities of the tour. Stage Dive had been at it for almost a year, circling the globe. I’d been with them off and on, trying to juggle managing my coffee shop in Portland, Oregon, and spending time with my man.

Music streaming services paying next to nothing meant bands needed to tour more now than ever. It wasn’t an easy lifestyle to maintain. However, it was almost time for them to come home. I planned to hang out with my husband for the last few shows, then we’d come back together. Which made it the worst damn time for something to go wrong with my insides.

Tags: Kylie Scott Stage Dive Book Series
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