Chapter 18: Head Up

I told Joel at seven the next morning, standing at the boat house stove with the coffee pot in my hand.

"She has us on tape. Eleven nights of it."

"I know."

"She'll play it for four hundred people."

"I know that too." He took the pot out of my hand and set it on the burner. "We'll go to the ballroom early. We'll pull the cables."

"No."

He turned.

"Let her try," I said. "I'm not ashamed of one second of it."

My voice came out steadier than I felt.

"You're a man I chose, with my eyes open, behind a locked door."

"If she wants to play that for a crowd, I'll be standing in the front row with my head up."

He looked at me for a long moment.

Then he said, rough and low, "You're the bravest person I've ever met."

"I'm scared stiff."

"I know. That's what I mean."

He stepped in and put his forehead against mine.

I had planned to say something else.

Instead I put both hands on his belt.

"Maisie's at daycare till four."

"Leah."

"Britt dropped her. Britt's on shift. Nobody will knock for hours."

His breath caught, and the kitchen went very warm.

I unbuckled him and pushed his jeans down his hips, and his cock sprang free, hard against my wrist.

I wrapped my hand around it and stroked once, slowly, from the base.

"I want to be on top," I said. "I want to watch your face."

He lifted me by the waist and sat me on the edge of the counter.

I pulled my sweater off.

He pushed my leggings down and my underwear with them.

He kissed a hot line along my inner thigh, and I fisted both hands in his hair.

"Joel. I'm already wet."

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