Page 26 of Royal Darling
“I like the quiet.”
“You’re rock ’n roll, man! You seriously like the quiet?”
“I didn’t used to. I burned out from all the touring and shite.”
His gaze is hard and direct. “Tell me the real story about how you met my sister. I know she’s not a fan. She likes blues music, folk, and classical.”
My lips part in surprise. Emma has hidden depths. That’s some deep stuff. My music is more visceral, raw. “We, um, met at a charity event like she said. She introduced my band. It was a coincidence that she landed on my boat.”
“Be straight with me,” he says urgently. “We’re all worried about her. This runaway bride thing is so out of character for her. She’s been a rule follower her entire life. She loves the rules, lives for them. Now she’s flying without a net and hanging with you. Why are you here, Jackson? The truth.”
I meet his eyes. “She invited me.”
“Why would you say yes? Do you want her?”
“She needs a keeper.”
“I’m her keeper!” he barks. “Our entire family is her keeper! Tell me why you’re here!”
I rub my forehead. Emma wasn’t kidding about the overprotective big-brother thing. “I won’t hurt her. I’m just teaching her guitar.”
“Bullshit!”
The words come tumbling out. “Listen, I’m here because I’ve been holed up on a houseboat for a month, trying and failing to pick up the damn guitar, and then Emma turns up and asks me to come here and teach her guitar. At first it was a no, but she ran into trouble with the press and paps, nearly getting trampled, so I intervened, and the only thing to do after that was run with it. All she wanted was a short break from the mess she made, and I get that because I need the same thing. So here I am.”
“So you’re just two lost souls looking for some peace?” he asks, heavy on the sarcasm.
I stare out at the lake. “You know I lost Charlie.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice gentle. “Yes, I heard.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat, staring off in the distance. “I haven’t been the same since. I don’t want to play Ignite’s songs anymore; they remind me of him. I felt like Emma, just wanting to say fuck all this and start afresh, but I can’t. I’m trapped in a contract. Have to produce new material. That was something Charlie and I used to do together. I riffed with him, bounced ideas off him. My creative well is dry; the passion that drove me dead and gone.” I meet his eyes. “Today’s guitar lesson with Emma was the first time I’ve been able to play guitar in months. I connected with music again. That’s huge for me. Maybe she’s doing more for me than I am for her with these lessons.”
“So you don’t want her?”
I keep a neutral expression, hiding the lust I’ve been trying to ignore since I found Emma sleeping in my bed back on the boat and she opened those big hazel eyes at me. “Nothing’s going on. We’re friends.”
He stares at me so long I’m sure he’s seen through me. Finally, he says, “She’s been engaged since she was sixteen. She’s been sheltered and bound to her royal duties her entire life. Do you understand? She’s like a baby colt trying out her legs. Kid gloves, man.”
Don’t touch.“Got it.”
He claps a hand on my shoulder. “Hurt her and you’re dead.”
“I have no intention of hurting her. I taught her the first song I learned earlier—” my voice gets hoarse, my throat tight “—and it felt like a weight off my chest, like I could breathe again. Music is alive in me through her. It’s a revelation.”
He stares at me for a long moment, taking my measure, before a wide smile stretches across his face. “She’s your muse. Never piss off the muse.”
A slow smile breaks out. Maybe she is. “Bloody right.”
He stands. “All right then. I’m going to check if Emma wants to go into town. Maybe she can pick up something less old lady to wear. Have you seen her dresses?”
“Have you?”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
I think back to earlier, the revealing green dress hugging her luscious curves. “She said it was a gift from Anna.”
“Shit.” He turns and heads back to the house.
