Page 64 of Love is a Drum Beat
Instead, he slipped under the covers and brushed a hand over Jo’s hair, looking down at her. As if sensing his touch, she nuzzled closer until her head rested on his shoulder.
If this was the closest he ever got to being able to love Jo, it was enough.
19
Jo
Something hard groaned under Jo’s head.
Groaned.
Something in her bed.
Déjà vu struck her as she remembered Blake waking in her bed, saying nothing to her as he dressed and left her pretending to sleep.
But this wasn’t the same. For one, the bed was only temporarily hers.
And Dax wasn’t Blake, not even close.
Jo lifted her head, the splitting headache from the day before a distant memory. She looked down into Dax’s sleeping face.
“Has anyone ever mentioned that you smile in your sleep?” she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t hear her.
The serious musician looked much more serene in sleep. Without his glasses, he looked even younger than he was.
And his hair. Jo ached to touch it, to run her hands through it, but she didn’t want to wake Dax when he looked so peaceful.
Plus, nature called. She rolled from the bed and grabbed the wall for support as she went into the bathroom. “Little alien.” She sighed. “Are you ever going to stop using my bladder as a trampoline?”
As if in answer, a sharp pain lanced through her stomach. “Too hard, little dude. When you kick me, make sure it’s somewhere that won’t hurt.”
After finishing up, she washed her hands and brushed her teeth. Seashells surrounded the bathroom mirror Jo couldn’t stop staring at. She couldn’t believe what a mess she’d become. Her pink hair hung over her shoulders looking like it had never seen a pair of clippers.
The oversized shirt she wore had holes near the collar, and her belly couldn’t even be contained by the high-rise yoga pants.
This was Jo Jackson, rock star extraordinaire. She snorted. If only her fans could see her now.
Walking back into the room, she opened the shades, letting the morning sun light the room.
Her phone sat next to their discarded plates on the bedside table. Unplugging it, she sat on the edge of the bed and scrolled through all the messages she’d missed by ignoring her phone the day before.
She stopped at Devlin’s name. He wanted to meet with her and Noah to discuss their return to music after the baby came.
Jo grinned as she imagined Noah getting that message. Devlin was lucky Noah was in a different country.
The rest of the messages fell into two categories. Rockstars Anonymous—those were the good texts.
And her father—the not-so-good.
She deleted her father’s messages without reading them. He had his ten grand, and she was supposed to have her life without him.
“Dax.” She checked the time and frowned. He never slept until eleven AM. She turned toward him and poked his shoulder. “Dax, do you have to get to the studio today?”
He mumbled something but didn’t open his eyes.
Jo sighed and looked down at her stomach. “You, baby boy, will not be a late sleeper. No, you’ll get up every morning and cook your momma a delicious breakfast with all the coffee you’ve deprived me of for nine months.”
“Are you talking to your stomach?” Dax’s eyes slid open, and he gave her a sleepy grin.
