Page 101 of Lady Sings the Blues

29.

Elise

Tommy’s horrified face was priceless. No doubt he’d been giving Beau shit about our impending bundle of joy. But they both have to know if something that important had been discussed, Maryanne would’ve already told me about it.

Today has been everything I’ve dreamed it would be, and only gets better when Chaos strolls up to me holding my cell phone. “Elise, sweetheart, you got a call. Should probably take it.”

I stare at the phone for a beat. “Okay.” Drawing the word out to four syllable length before snatching it from his hand. I answer, “Hello?”

The low, gravelly, voice surprises the hell out of me. “Elise, girl.”Crass.At hearing him, my eyes immediately tear up. Because I haven’t done enough of that today.

“Oh my god, I’ve been so worried. How are you?”

“Better.”

“You home?”

“Not yet.”

“I wanted you here. You deserve to be here.”

“Chaos told me about Liv. Girl, I’m sorry. So damn sorry.”

“Don’t.” I have to put a stop to this right now. “Don’t you dare apologize. You were almost killed trying to protect us. And I need to know, who um…who’s taking care of you once you get home?”

“Me. Sure some of the brothers or old ladies will stop by. I’ll manage.”

“Nonsense. Come down here. I’ll send some boys up to get you. Me and Liv will get you on your feet in no time.”

“Sweetheart, not my charter.”

“I don’t care. I…you…you just need to be here where I can help.”

“Never had a sister.”

“Yeah, well, now you have two. Please think about it. Beau and Chaos can make it work. Let me know when you’re getting out.”

“Gotta go. Congratulations, girl. Tired. Tell Liv I said hey.”

And he doesn’t even give me time to answer back, just hangs up on me. But he’s awake. He’s awake and talking and I can’t ask for more than that right now.

After tucking the phone into the pocket of the bodice of my dress—becauseheck yeah, my dress needed pockets and I was damn well going to have them when I ordered the thing—my husband takes my hand, lacing our fingers together, and leads me out to the makeshift dance floor. The Lady’s house band begins playing the Etta James rendition of “At Last.”

I wouldn’t call what we’re doing dancing so much as a slow, intimate swaying with my cheek pressed against his chest as Beau sings the words softly in my ear for only me to hear. He can’t carry a tune in a bucket, but no song has ever sounded more beautiful.Ever.

I had no idea he’d even dance with me today. No idea he’d be the one picking our wedding song. Like always, Beau continues to surprise me. And we continue to sway as if wrapped in our own plastic bubble, separating us from the rest of the world until at almost the final notes of the song a commotion brakes out by the front door of the compound.

We walk over together, hand in hand, until Beau spies the cause of the commotion and shoves me behind him. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” He yells at our unwelcome guests.

“So it’s true, you really married her?” Margo’s words come out more accusatory than questioning.

“Get out.”

“You promised me Beau,” I whisper.

“Darlin’ you know damn well I didn’t invite ‘em,” he tells me. “Get.Out.” He growls at them again, when they haven’t moved.

Several of the brothers begin shuffling the wedding crashers to the door when George manages to break away, stepping up in his son’s face.

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