Wicked Beat

Chapter 33

The next morning, Eric opened his eyes to a bright blue box.

Resting on Rebekah’s vacated pillow, the box was tied shut with a thick white ribbon. He rose to look around the room and was disappointed to find himself alone. Even the cocktail dress that had been hanging from the ceiling fan when he’d passed out from exhaustion the night before was now gone. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed and reached for the box. It had a little card attached that said, Happy st Birthday, sweetheart. Please open immediately. Rebekah He smiled. He’d never been greeted with a birthday present on his pillow. The guys had once woken him by smashing a birthday cake into his face. It had been one rude, but rather delicious, wakeup call.

He untied the ribbon and lifted the lid, expecting to find something sexy nestled in the tissue paper. Instead, he found a baby monitor.

“A baby monitor?”

He lifted the device from the box and found a second note tied to its short antenna. I’m at your beck and call, birthday boy. Press the button, and let me know when you’re ready for me.

His heart thundered with anticipation. He pressed the button. “Rebekah?”

“I’ll be right up,” her voice came from the little speaker.

He was already up. When it came to his woman, he was always up. He covered his excitement by dropping a pillow on his lap.

A moment later the bedroom door opened and Rebekah entered carrying a tray of food. She wore a frilly little apron. Just a frilly little apron. Damn, she looked good enough to eat. If he hadn’t already been up, this would have done the trick.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said. “I made you three different types of scrambled eggs. Also, bacon. Sausage. Biscuits. Hash browns. A fruit cup and some coffee. Juice.”

“It smells fantastic,” he murmured. He was sure it looked fantastic too, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the gentle bounce of her pert breasts as she crossed the room and set the tray on the bed beside him.

She leaned across the bed and kissed him gently on the mouth.

“Happy first birthday,” she said.

“First birthday?”

“Well, I missed twenty-seven of them, so I have a lot of birthdays to celebrate with you today.”

He’d never thought he cared that no one had ever done anything special for his birthday or that he’d never had a party as a kid.

The warmth spreading through his chest and his giddiness at her thoughtfulness told him that he really had cared. Rebekah had a way of making him glad for those hard times so that he treasured his time with her that much more. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now eat.”

“Maybe I want you to feed me,” he said.

She climbed onto the bed beside him and picked up his fork.

“What do you want?”

He lifted his hand and stroked her taut nipple with his fingertips. “This.” He leaned forward and flicked his tongue over the aroused skin.

“You’ll get plenty of that with your other surprises,” she said.

“You should probably eat so you can keep up your strength.”

He sucked her nipple into his mouth and then drew away. “I’ll eat,” he said. “You keep those hard for me.”

Mesmerized, he watched her pluck her nipples, roll them between her thumb and forefinger, and lick her fingers to spread the wetness over her pink, pebbled flesh. He ate slowly, enjoying his private peep show too much to want it to end. Watching her play with herself still excited him like nothing else. When he was full, he crawled around the breakfast tray and tumbled her to the mattress beneath him. He suckled her nipples until she was clinging to his hair and moaning with need.

He lifted her apron and discovered that she’d completely shaved her mound. “I see dessert,” he said.

“That’s supposed to be for later.”

“I can have multiple desserts today. It’s my birthday.” He slid down her body and suckled her smooth, swollen lips, teased her clit with his tongue, and licked at her slick hole to sample her sweet juices.

“Oh, Eric,” she moaned. “I want you.”

He slipped a finger inside her and rotated it in wide circles while he sucked hard on her clit.

Her back arched. “Oh wait. I’m gonna come. Eric!”

Her body shuddered with release. She strained against his hand, her pussy gripping his finger in delightful spasms. When she went limp, he pulled his finger free and placed a tender kiss on her pretty folds, loving how exposed they looked when clean-shaven. He slid up her body to smile down at her flushed face.

“It’s your birthday,” she said breathlessly. “I’m not supposed to get the presents.”

“That was a present for both of us.” He lowered his head to kiss her jaw, her neck, her ear.

She stiffened beneath him. “Wait! I’ve been planning this for a week, and you’re messing with my agenda here.”

If he hadn’t been so curious about her plans, he would have said to hell with them, but he was. Curious. She slipped from beneath him and scampered off the bed. She collected his breakfast tray and nodded toward the connecting bathroom. “Your next surprise is in there.”

He watched the apron ties bounce against her sweet little bottom as she trotted out of the room. As soon as she was out of sight, Eric climbed out of bed and scrambled into the bathroom. On the sink, he found a red box with a large yellow bow. Happy nd Birthday, sweetheart. Please open immediately. Rebekah He lifted the lid and found a white poof inside. The kind she used in the shower. Beneath it was a little card. Wait for me in the shower.

He used the toilet and then stepped into the shower, letting the water wet his naked body. A moment later, Rebekah entered the bathroom. She was wearing a plain white T-shirt and nothing else. She stepped into the shower with him, still wearing the T-shirt.

At first, he wasn’t sure why, but as the T-shirt got wet, it became completely transparent and clung to her curves in a way that was somehow sexier than naked flesh.

He mumbled something incoherent and reached for her breasts, cupping them beneath the T-shirt, squeezing them so that her darkened nipples strained against the transparent wet cloth. Oh God.

He wanted them. Wanted her. He lowered his head and sucked one breast, shirt and all, into his mouth. “There you go giving me presents again,” she murmured in a husky voice. “Where’s the present I gave you?”

He had no idea. He lifted his head to look at her, and when confronted by that wet T-shirt again, he couldn’t even remember what she’d asked him. Apparently, she found what she was looking for in his left hand. She turned to retrieve a bottle of liquid soap from the caddy on the wall. His gaze drifted to the tattoo on her lower back and then the sweet curves of her naked ass. She turned again and began to draw the poof over his chest, leaving foamy suds on his skin as she washed him with slow, deliberate motions.

He couldn’t keep his hands off her tits.

She soaped his shoulders. His arms. His back. His belly. It felt wonderful. He felt special and loved. And really fucking horny.

Her soapy poof moved lower. She squatted to soap his hips and thighs. The head of his cock disappeared into her hot little mouth. She sucked it gently, sending waves of pleasure rippling along his shaft while she soaped his balls and soaped them and soaped them. By the time she was done washing them, he was certain there had never been a cleaner set of balls on the planet.

He was also certain that there was nothing hotter than his woman in a wet T-shirt looking at him with adoration while she sucked his cock.

Control took a backseat to need.

He bent to grab her by both arms. She let his cock pop free of her tight suction, and he hauled her to her feet. He had to fuck her.

Immediately. None of the emotional, tender lovemaking that had occurred the night before. No. This would be dirty. And rough. He was much too excited to be gentle.

He grabbed her face between both palms and kissed her hard and deep. She didn’t protest, even when he pressed her against the wall and moved his hands to squeeze her breasts.

She jerked her head to the side. “Rip it off me,” she demanded.

He was no Hulk Hogan. He couldn’t tear a T-shirt apart with his bare hands. Or could he? He noticed that she’d cut the neckband, so he could rip it off her. The sexy little vixen had planned it from the start. He grabbed the fabric and pulled in both directions.

It gave way with a satisfying rip. Her breasts tumbled free, and he gasped. He grabbed them and massaged them roughly. He needed to be inside her. Needed to fuck her.

Eric lifted her off the shower floor and propped her against the tile wall. Water coursed down his body in thick rivulets.

He surged forward seeking her slick heat, but he didn’t find it.

Gritting his teeth, he cursed and tried again. Rebekah reached between their bodies, grabbed his cock, and directed it home. He thrust into her.

Hard.

Harder.

He wanted her to feel him. For it to be impossible for her to ignore him. His excitement brought him to the brink of orgasm quickly, but he wasn’t ready to come. He wanted to keep going for hours. Unfortunately, gravity wasn’t in agreement. His strength waning, Rebekah slipped down the wall.

He grunted in protest when he could no longer find the leverage to thrust and had to pull out. She turned around and bent forward, presenting her backside. “Put it back in, Eric. I want it so bad.”

He found her easy this time, thrusting into her fast and hard from behind. She arched her back so he could hold onto her breasts while he plunged into her repeatedly.

“Oh. Oh. Oh!” Her cries echoed off the tile walls as she found release.

Eric pulled out at the last second and watched as he spurt across her lower back. She reached behind her and smeared his cum over the name tattooed on her skin. His name.

He gasped as he watched her. Could this woman possibly get any sexier? Could he love her any more than he did at that moment?

He didn’t think it was possible.

He drew her against his length. His belly against her back, the tattered remains of the T-shirt between them, he kissed her neck while he rubbed her breasts and belly. He eventually retrieved the poof from the shower floor, and they took turns washing each other.

Touching, kissing, a bit of nibbling. When she was squeaky clean, she stepped away.

“Your next present is in the green bedroom,” she whispered and climbed out of the shower. She reached for a towel and wrapped it around her amazing little body. He shut off the water and didn’t even bother with a towel. Soaking wet, Eric padded down the hallway to the spare bedroom, which had been decorated in sage green. On the bed was a rectangular box—white with a red ribbon. He read the tag.

Happy rd Birthday, sweetheart. Open this when you’d like tea service.

Tea service? He didn’t have any idea what could be in the box.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted tea service or not, but he was curious.

He opened the gift and found a beautiful silk robe. It was white and decorated with small pink flowers. He lifted it out of the box and held it up to his chest. If he put it on, it wouldn’t even cover his ass.

He didn’t want to hurt Rebekah’s feelings or anything, but… Um?

It was a bit feminine. He couldn’t imagine ever wearing it.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Rebekah said from the doorway.

“Yeah. I just don’t think it’s me.”

She laughed. “You’re not supposed to wear it. I am.”

He released a relieved breath. “Oh thank God. I was starting to worry you wanted me in drag.”

She took the robe from him. “I’ll go slip into this and make the tea.” She opened a side table drawer and pulled out another box.

“You open this. Happy fourth birthday.” She kissed him and handed him the box before leaving the room.

This box was relatively small, long, and flat. Inside he found a fan belt and a note that said, As soon as we get the Camaro running, I challenge you to a race. At the bottom of the box, he found a gift certificate from a local racetrack for one hour of private usage.

“Rebekah!” he shouted. “This is so awesome!”

He turned to find her standing in the doorway, dressed in the beautiful robe. It was one of those Japanese ones. A komodo or something like that. A thick red sash tied around her middle made her waist look impossibly tiny. Her tiny feet and sexy legs were bare.

She kept her eyes downcast as she walked with small steps into the room. On a tray she carried a teapot, a small cup, and a white vase with a red flower.

“Whoa,” Eric said, setting the box in his hand on the nightstand.

“You look so… delicate.” Nice save on not calling her adorable.

“Thanks for the gift certificate. I can’t wait to race you.”

She nodded slightly and blushed, keeping her gaze lowered. He wasn’t sure why, but her acting all shy and demure was kind of sexy.

“Please, sit,” she said quietly.

He sat. The hardwood floors were cold against his bare ass, but his blood ran hot and he’d surely be overheated in no time.

She set the tray on the floor and retrieved a quilt from a wooden rack at the end of the bed. She placed it on the floor and encouraged Eric to move onto it. Kneeling beside him, she poured tea from the pot into the tiny cup. When she handed it to him, her fingertips brushed his. That seemingly accidental touch streaked up his arm and sent a shiver down his spine. She kept her eyes downcast, her body tense, as if he made her nervous. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that he found her little act sexy. He found everything she did a total turn-on. He took a sip of the tea and it burned the hair off his tonsils.

Eyes watering, Eric sputtered and covered his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s a tad hot,” he breathed.

She looked up, her bottom lip trembling. “I do not please you?”

He knew she wanted him to play a role, but he simply could not stand the devastated look, even if it was an act. He tucked a finger under her chin and moved in for a tender kiss. “You always please me. You are incapable of displeasing me.”

She chuckled, dropping her act. “I think you’ll need tutoring on this scenario.”

“Now?”

“Unless… Do you want to open more presents?”

He hesitated, then grinned and nodded eagerly.

“Anything you want to save for another day, you can. You have a lot of presents. Probably too many to enjoy in one day.”

He couldn’t pretend to be anything but excited. He grabbed her in an exuberant hug. “What’s next?”

“Your next present is in the kitchen. Go put on some shorts and meet me downstairs. No peeking until I join you.”

He grinned. “So you don’t want me naked for this one?”

“Not all your gifts are sexual in nature.”

“Bummer.”

“The racetrack gift certificate, for example.”

He squeezed her and rooted on her neck with loud sloppy kisses until she giggled and squirmed. “That is a fucking awesome nonsexual gift, but afterward, I’m sure I’ll be pretty worked up.”

“You can make anything sexual, Eric.”

“You’re just figuring that out?”

“Nope. I’m celebrating it.” She kissed him and squirmed out of his arms. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

She collected her tray and climbed to her feet. As soon as she was out of the room, he hurried to his bedroom to tug on a pair of shorts and took the stairs two at a time. He spotted several gift boxes in the family room on his way past and three more on the breakfast bar in the kitchen. He sat at the bar and stretched his neck so he could read the tags on each box. They were all different sizes and shapes. There was one for his fifth birthday, another for his twelfth and a third for his twenty-first. He wondered if she would make him open them in order. By the time she finally joined him, wearing an old T-shirt and jeans, he was about to explode with anticipation. She smiled when he grabbed the box labeled for his fifth birthday.

“Can I open it now?”

She nodded. He didn’t know what he expected, but two boxes of hair-dye—one platinum blond, the other purple—was not it.

“What’s this?”

“It’s time to get rid of this mousy brown color.”

“I do prefer you as a blonde with blue.”

“How about a blonde with purple? And I’d like to color your blue strand purple to match mine, if you’ll let me.”

He released a heavy breath. “Okay, I suppose my every fortynine days tradition is pretty lame anyway.”

“Am I messing up something sacred?”

“Just a stupid superstition.”

“We can wait.”

He shook his head. “I don’t believe it brings me luck anymore.”

“You still like changing the color though, right?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of my trademark. There are betting pools online about what my next color will be.”

“How many have their money on purple?”

He laughed. “Two little girls I met at a homeless shelter, for sure.”

Eric was surprised by how fun it was to dye each other’s hair. She let him choose where he wanted the purple to go in her hair. Instead of doing the under-layer, like she’d had it when they’d met, the purple strands framed her lovely face, and there were a few streaks in the back where he’d gotten a little carried away. Every stupid thing they did together made him feel closer to her.

He opened more presents, ranging from a book of Shakespearean limericks to a case of hot dogs for the tour bus. She’d put a lot of thought into all his gifts. There were several costumes for their bedroom games—a cheerleader, an angel, and a sexy pirate wench.

When he opened the Spider-Man costume that included two cans of silly string, he grabbed a can and chased Rebekah around the house until he eventually cornered her and sprayed his sticky web all over her.

He had personalized drumsticks, a new flask and some Cabo Wabo tequila to fill it, and a pair of handcuffs with the instructions:

“for me or you, it’s your decision.” He was too overwhelmed to make any decisions at the moment. In the living room, she dropped another present in his lap and sat beside him on the sofa.

She gave his knee an encouraging squeeze as he opened the box.

Inside he found a framed picture of himself and Rebekah. It was the same picture he used as his phone’s screen saver, where they were simultaneously kissing, smiling, and looking at the camera. It was his favorite picture in the world. The frame was engraved with the word family. He got a little choked up as he ran his fingertips over the lettering. Couldn’t help it.

“I love it,” he said breathlessly.

Rebekah climbed from the sofa, then took a hammer and nail from an end table. “Where are we going to hang it?”

His interior decorator would have a cow if she knew he’d hung a picture in her perfectly designed living room. They hung the picture on the wall beside a Thomas Kincaid print. Both grinned at it for a good five minutes.

“We’re going to add more soon,” she said.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her against his side. “Yeah.” He bent to nibble on her ear, now wishing he’d asked her to put on that cheerleading costume instead of saving it for a later date.

Hand splayed over his belly, she shuddered. “Go wait for me in the family room,” she said. “Sit at the piano.”

“I’m ready for some hot lovin’ now,” he said.

She winked at him. “You’ll probably get some.”

“Probably?”

She grabbed him by the hair at the nape of his neck and kissed him until his dick was so hard his stomach ached.

She pulled away and stared hungrily into his eyes. He stroked the purple strands of hair from her face.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she promised.

He wasn’t sure how she managed to get away. He sure as hell didn’t want her to escape. Not even for ten minutes. He knew by now that she had something sexy planned, and half the fun was imagining what it might be. With a sigh, he went to the family room and waited at the black grand piano. The piano’s lid had been lowered and several more colorful boxes were sitting there. He would never figure out how she’d managed to put this together. She had to have an accomplice. There’s no way she could have done all this by herself. They were together almost constantly.

He got bored enough to play the piano while he waited. That little melody duet that he’d written for their tattoos was starting to stretch into a song.

A pair of soft, warm hands rested on his shoulders and then slid down his chest. His hands went still on the keys. One finger caught in his nipple ring. The gentle tug made his balls tighten. Her breasts pressed against his back. Unfortunately, they weren’t bare.

“Happy birthday to you,” Rebekah sang into his ear in a sultry, breathless voice.

Her hands slid lower, over his belly.

“Happy birthday to you,” she continued.

He turned to look at her and almost fell off the piano bench.

Rebekah wore a white halter dress with a long, loose skirt. It was a replica of the one Marilyn Monroe wore in The Seven Year Itch. The look didn’t stop at the dress; Rebekah had the wig, the makeup. She looked as hot as hell in July.

“Happy Birthday, Mister Eric Sticks,” she sang in that same sexy voice.

She slid around his body to sit on his lap, her arms around his neck, her eyelids heavy as she looked at him with open invitation.

Oh dear God.

“Happy Birthday… to… you.”

Heart thudding, he lowered his head to kiss her. His hand slid up one smooth leg, under her skirt, higher and higher until he knew for certain. She wasn’t wearing panties. He lifted her onto the piano and ducked his head under her skirt. Her heels dug into his back as she encouraged his exploring lips and tongue. He sampled her flowing juices, tongue dancing over slick flesh, fingers digging into her hips to hold her still as he excited her to a writhing mass of feminine perfection.

Breathless with anticipation, he emerged from beneath her skirt and tugged his shorts down to free his straining cock. He jerked her body toward him, and she slid off the slick lid of the piano onto the keys, which gave a discordant clang. Finding her opening beneath her skirt, he inserted his cock carefully and then surged forward, filling her with one hard, deep thrust. Pumping into her with a steady rhythm, he opened his eyes to look at her. He tugged her wig off and ran his fingers through her soft hair. As sexy as she was when she was pretending to be someone else, he preferred the real woman.

His woman.

She was more than enough for him. Everything he would ever need.

He captured her lips with his and slowed his pace, not seeking release any longer. Seeking something more. The connection between them. The one he only felt when he was with her. His hands slid down the bare flesh of her back, and he pressed her body close. Their hearts thundered out of control, his against hers, hers against his.

She broke their kiss, and he gazed into her beautiful blue eyes.

She stared at him as if in awe. Eventually, he had to ask, “What?”

She wrapped both arms around his waist and snuggled against his shoulder. “Sometimes it just hits me,” she whispered. “How lucky I am to be with you.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

There was a crunch of gravel in the driveway. Rebekah stiffened.

“What time is it?”

Outside, a car door slammed shut.

Eric checked the grandfather clock. “Um, almost six.”

“Already?” she gasped. “Hurry up and come.”

“I wonder who that is,” he said, trying to see out in the driveway through a window on the far wall.

Looking half-panicked, Rebekah shoved him back so that his cock slipped from her body. She dropped to her knees in front of him and sucked him into her mouth. She was obviously intent on making him come as quickly as possible. He let the pleasure consume him, tenderly tucking her hair behind her ears as she bobbed her head and sucked hard. He erupted in her mouth, his body taut as he let go.

She swallowed his offering and hopped to her feet, tugging his shorts in place as the doorbell rang. “We’ll do this again later,” she promised. “You can take as long as you want then.”

He chuckled. Six weeks ago, he never took long at all, and now she was apologizing for making him come too fast.

“I love you, woman.”

She grinned. “I know. I love you too. Go answer the door. I need to find some panties.”

She hurried out of the room. The doorbell rang again. “Come on, dude!” he heard Brian call from the front porch. “All this stuff is getting heavy!”

“Well, if you’d let me carry something,” Myrna complained.

“You are. You’re carrying my baby.”

Eric opened the door, smiling at the bickering couple. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you two.”

“Oh yeah,” Brian said. He had a Crock-Pot under one arm, a large casserole dish in another, and several bags dangling from both hands. “Surprise!”

Myrna hugged Eric. “Happy birthday!” She slipped around his body to enter the foyer. Brian followed.

“Where’s the kitchen?” Myrna asked. “I need to warm stuff up.”

“I’ll show you,” Brian said.

“Make yourself at home,” Eric called after them.

Eric honestly didn’t think this day could get any better, and then another car pulled up in the driveway. It was Sed’s Mercedes.

Sed and Jessica took awhile to get out of the car. They were too busy making out in the front seat. Eric stood patiently on the porch so he could let them in the house when they decided they were finished sucking face, and Sed finished doing whatever he was doing with his head under the dashboard.

Rebekah appeared beside Eric and handed him another birthday present.

“Should I open it now?” he asked.

“Yeah. I don’t want all the women staring at my fine piece of man meat all evening.”

He laughed. As if. He opened the box and found a black T-shirt.

The words Dirty Old Man were scribed across its front in white lettering. He chuckled and pulled it over his head. He kissed her temple and murmured, “Later I’ll show you how dirty this old man can be.”

“I’m counting on it.” She reached up on tiptoes to kiss him and stroked his hair lovingly. “I’m going to help Myrna. It was so awesome of her to make us all dinner.”

“Who’s all?” Eric asked.

“You’ll see.”

He hoped all didn’t include Isaac.

Eventually, Sed climbed out of the car and dashed around the vehicle to open the door for Jessica. They shared a few more moments of locking lips, and then Sed went to the trunk. Jessica carried gift bags and Sed carried a big box that looked suspiciously like a cake box. In a sweet little sundress and matching short-sleeved jacket, Jessica looked as smokin’ hot as ever. No wonder Sed couldn’t keep his hands off her.

At the same instant, Sed and Jessica noticed Eric standing on the steps waiting. “Hey,” Sed said. “Happy birthday.”

When the couple climbed onto the wraparound porch, Jessica lifted a hand and patted Eric’s cheek. She read his shirt and laughed.

“Dirty old man? Perfect.”

Jace and Aggie arrived a few minutes later. They had presents and food too. Jace offered Eric a playful punch in the ribs. “Sorry we’re late,” he said. “Aggie was finishing your present.”

Eric felt the blood drain from his face. “Please don’t tell me it’s a whip.”

Jace laughed. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“You look happy,” Aggie commented, tucking her long, silky black hair behind both ears and kissing his cheek.

“I am happy. Old, but happy.”

A van pulled into the drive. It took Eric a moment to recognize it as belonging to Rebekah’s parents. Great. Eric’s smile faded. No doubt they’d brought Isaac along for kicks and giggles. He’d like to kick him, that’s for sure. And it would make him giggle. Trey climbed out of the drivers’ seat and opened the side door to lower Dave in his wheelchair to the ground. No one else emerged from the van. Eric sighed in relief.

Dave wheeled himself through the gravel and onto the sidewalk that led to the front porch. At the bottom of the steps he stopped and looked up at Eric. “The ADA is gonna have your ass, Sticks. How am I supposed to get up the steps?”

“Getcher lazy ass out of the chair,” Trey said.

Eric watched in stunned silence as Dave moved the foot pedals of his wheelchair aside, grabbed the banister, and pulled himself to his feet.

“You got it?” Trey asked him.

“Yep,” Dave said breathlessly. With tremendous effort and using the handrail for support, Dave slowly climbed the four stairs to stand on the porch. Eric grabbed him in a tremendous bear hug while Trey folded Dave’s wheelchair and hefted it up the steps.

“You can walk?” Eric said.

There was suddenly a smaller body participating in their hug fest. Rebekah was literally sobbing with happiness.

“Okay,” Dave said. “I need to sit down again. I’m still weak as a fuckin’ kitten. I can only move a few steps at a time.”

They helped him back into his chair and bumped him over the threshold into the house.

“Is everyone here?” Trey asked.

Rebekah nodded. “How’s Isaac?” she asked.

“He’ll be okay,” Trey promised. “I know just the guy for him.”

Everyone in the foyer stared. “No, not me. You know how I feel about serious relationships.” He made a face of disgust and Rebekah laughed.

“And I wanted to date you,” she said. “Good thing I didn’t stay hung up on you for too long. Heartbreaker.”

“Cock tease,” Trey shot back.

Dave chuckled. “You’ve no idea how happy I am to hear him call you that.”

Rebekah glanced at Eric and turned beet red.

“How’s your mother doing?” Eric asked Dave, hoping to change the subject.

“Better. They’re trying her on some new meds. She sounded great when I talked to her a couple hours ago. You should call her, Rebekah.”

Rebekah nodded. “I will after Eric’s party.”

“She’s not stuck in her Isaac-and-Rebekah loop anymore.”

“That’s a relief,” Rebekah said. She stroked her brother’s hair and kissed his forehead. “You had to go and one-up me, didn’t you?”

“Huh?”

“I plan all this stuff for Eric’s birthday, and you show up and promptly start walking.” She shook her head as if annoyed. “Figures.”

“Sibling rivalry at its finest.” Dave grabbed her around the waist and tumbled her onto his lap so he could tickle her. She laughed and squirmed, finally landing herself in a heap on the floor. Smiling broadly, Eric helped her to her feet.

They made their way into the kitchen where Myrna was busy getting the meal heated and appropriately served. Brian was at underfoot as he tried to help. Eventually, she grabbed him by both arms and gave him a hard shake. “I know you want to help, but will you sit down and let me get this done? Back off! I’m fine. I’m not the first woman to have a baby, you know!”

“But you’re the first woman to have my baby.”

Myrna stared at her husband and then burst into tears. She hugged him against her and kissed every inch of his face. “I’m s-sorry I yelled at you. I love you so much.”

“Hormones,” Sed grumbled. “Hey, Jess. You aren’t going to be like that when I knock you up, are you?”

Jessica poked him in the ribs. Hard. “Ask me that again, and you’ll be incapable of ever having children.”

Sed covered his crotch protectively with both hands.

The meal was amazing. Myrna had made her homemade lasagna.

The Italian bread, with its crisp outside and melt-on-your-tongue center, was also homemade. Everything was perfect. The meal. The company. The love of his life playing footsies with him beneath the dinner table. Everything.

Perfect.

They covered Eric’s cake with candles and made him blow them out. “Don’t forget to make a wish,” Rebekah encouraged.

He couldn’t think of anything else he could possibly want or need.

And then he remembered that Rebekah had her MRI the next day. He wished for perfect health for his woman and then blew out the candles.

A second later, Eric found his face shoved into the cake, and then a fullfledged cake-flinging battle ensued in his kitchen. Hiding with Rebekah under the breakfast bar from the chocolate cake and buttercream frosting projectiles, she began to nibble the cake and frosting off his face.

“This is delicious,” she said.

He laughed and smeared his cheek against hers so he could sample his birthday cake for himself. “That is pretty good,” he said, licking frosting off her face, “but these are much sweeter.” He kissed her and was still kissing her when eight pairs of eyes peered under the counter to stare at them.

“Time to open presents,” Sed announced.

“I could get used to this,” Eric murmured and kissed Rebekah again before hauling himself from beneath the counter. He helped Rebekah to her feet and turned to find Jessica sucking frosting off Sed’s huge biceps. Brian and Myrna were feeding each other bits of cake with their fingers. Aggie was nibbling on Jace’s jaw, none too gently, if his raspy breathing was any indication of his level of excitement.

Trey crossed his arms over his chest. “If you all don’t stop it, I’m going to have to start making out with Dave here, and no one wants to see that.”

“I do,” Aggie said and emitted a husky chuckle.

Damn, that woman was delightfully wicked. Eric could only imagine what she’d made him as a birthday gift. It turned out to be a custom-made black leather corset with blue butterflies embroidered down one side for Rebekah. Eric totally approved.

Sed and Jessica had bought him a personalized license plate frame for the Corvette that read Drummers Do It with Rhythm.

Myrna and Brian gave him a box of sex toys that came with their stamp of approval.

Trey didn’t get him anything. “I practically gave you that wonderful woman of yours,” he explained with a wink.

Dave gave him a new cymbal for his drum kit, which he had to try immediately.

Rebekah handed him yet another gift.

“You’re spoiling me,” Eric said. He laughed when he opened the box and found a pillow shaped like a pair of breasts.

“So when you’re on the road, you’ll have something to remind you of me. Something you can play with while you’re sleeping alone.

And you will be sleeping alone, Eric Sticks!”

“No, he won’t,” Sed said.

“What do you mean he won’t?” Rebekah bellowed.

Before Eric could assure her that she had absolutely nothing to worry about, Sed said, “You’ll be there with him. The band talked about it, and we decided we want you to stay on as our permanent soundboard operator.”

Her smile could have lit the heavens, and then she glanced at her brother. “Dave—”

“Dave will also be our soundboard operator. That job is big enough for two people. There are things he won’t be able to do for a while yet, so you can help him, but honestly, with both of you on the job, Sinners is gonna rock everyone’s face off,” he said in that front man roar that made the crowds go wild.

Eric was so happy he could’ve kissed Sed. So he did. He got slapped alongside the head for his misplaced affection, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t have to be away from Rebekah for weeks on end.

Or ever. She would always be by his side.

“So do you want the job?” Sed asked.

“Are you kidding?” Rebekah cried. “Of course I want the job!”

Sed didn’t slap her alongside the head when she kissed him, but Jessica’s eyes flashed a warning.

The doorbell rang. Eric glanced at Rebekah in question.

“Happy twenty-eighth birthday, baby.”

“Did you get me a stripper?” Eric teased.

Trey slapped himself in the forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that? Then I’d have someone to play with too.”

“Go get the door,” Rebekah urged.

Eric gave her a strange look. Everyone he knew was already here, but he went to answer. Jon stood on his threshold. Well, Eric’s birthday had been going perfectly. Only seemed fair that something would fuck it up. Why would Rebekah invite him?

Jon smiled slightly. “Hey,” he said.

“I already told you, the band is finished with you, Jon. You’re not going to weasel your way back in.”

Jon offered a curt nod. “Yeah, I get that. That’s not why I’m here. What is that in your hair?”

Eric touched his hair and found a hunk of cake in the row of spikes down the center. “Birthday cake.”

“Oh yeah. Happy birthday.”

“Thanks. So what do you want?”

“Can we talk outside? It’s kind of… personal.”

Eric sighed. Why couldn’t he just tell this guy to fuck off? To get out of his life and stay out. Maybe because he remembered him before he’d become an addict.

“Yeah. Okay.” Eric closed the front door and went to sit on the porch swing.

Jon perched beside him, clasped his hands in his lap, and stared at his thumbs. “My rehab counselor said it would help to make amends.”

“You’re in rehab?”

“Outpatient.”

“Obviously.”

Jon chuckled. “When I called the house looking for you yesterday, Rebekah said I could come tonight. Own up to everything.”

Eric wondered why she thought this was a good birthday present.

“I’m sorry I lied about the money in the lockbox,” Jon said. “I did take it. Blew it all on a weekend’s worth of quality cocaine.” He looked up and met Eric’s eyes. “I don’t expect you to forgive me.

I wouldn’t forgive me. Everyone else gave up on me years ago, but you never did.” His defeated smile made Eric’s heart pang. Just a little. “I didn’t know how else to keep you in my life, Eric, so I manipulated you into thinking you owed me. All I really wanted was to hang out with you again. Like we used to before I completely fucked up my life.”

“You don’t have to be in the band to hang out with me.”

Jon rubbed his forehead and stared across the immaculately tended front yard. “Don’t enable me again, Eric. It honestly doesn’t help.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near me if you’re using, but…”

Jon glanced at him.

“But if you get your shit together, maybe we could put a little band together. Play gigs at local bars. I’ve been working on some alternative rock songs. You never were heavy enough for Sinners.”

Jon smiled. “That would be awesome.”

“But I get to sing.”

“And drum?”

“Nope, just sing. I’ll need you to find a good drummer. A couple of guitarists. I won’t have time. I’m fuckin’ busy, you know?”

Jon’s eyes sparkled with hope. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun. We’ll jam. Just when I’m off tour with Sinners, of course, and only if you keep your nose clean. I’m not putting up with your bullshit anymore, Jon.”

Jon punched him in the arm. “I don’t expect you to.”

Eric nodded. “Do you want to come inside?”

Jon shook his head. “Nah. I’ve taken enough of your time. You’ll probably get a long, boring letter from me in a couple days. Another part of my therapy. You don’t have to read it, if you don’t want to.”

Eric laughed. “That’s why you’re really here, huh? To keep me from reading that letter.”

“No,” Jon said sheepishly. “I’m not like that anymore.”

“Whatever, dude,” Eric said, laughing. “I don’t expect you to change overnight.”

Jon climbed to his feet. “I’ll give you a call once I’m sure this therapy is going to stick. I really want to succeed this time. I’m finished with that shit.”

“You better. I have some songs written that are amazing, but not Sinners’ style. I’d love to get them in front of an audience. I’m counting on you to make that happen.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “You don’t need me, Eric. You could put your own band together in ten seconds. Any musician in his right mind would give his left nut to perform with you.”

“But I’m counting on you.” Eric shoved Jon toward the porch steps. “Get now. I need to chase off the rest of my guests so I can have time alone with my woman.”

“She’s good for you.”

Eric smiled. “You don’t have to state the obvious.”

Jon trotted down the steps and then turned to look at him. “Thanks.” He didn’t need to say more. Eric understood.

“Happy birthday.”

When Eric let himself back in the house, Rebekah was waiting in the foyer. “How did it go?”

Eric nodded. “I think he’s actually going to get his life back together.”

She reached up and cupped his face. “And I suppose you’re going to help him with that.”

“Nope. Just gave him a little incentive. My part in his recovery is entirely hands-off.”

“Good,” she said, “because I think it’s about time you put your hands on me.”

“I think it’s past time for that.”