A Slice of Life - Leo and Sam
“I miss him,” I admit into the phone and then cringe. “And if you make fun of me for admitting it, I’ll throat punch you the next time I see you.”
“Why would I make fun of you?” my brother, Luke, replies.
“Just because you’re a badass who always insisted that she’d never fall in love, never get married, blah blah blah.”
I roll my eyes, and he keeps talking. The jerk.
“Because you’re whipped by a rock star? A famous rock star? Is that why I would make fun of you?”
“I think I’ll throat punch you anyway, just out of principle.” I clear my throat and adjust my jacket.
“Where are you? It sounds windy?”
“I’m walking by the cliffs.” I’m staring out at the ocean, watching it churn and roll against an angry grey sky. “Another storm’s rolling in. This fucking weather is why he’s not home yet.”
“It’s bad all over the country. Flights are cancelled. It’s cold.”
“No shit, Sherlock, I’m standing in it.”
“Go inside,” he says with a smile in his voice and I feel my eyes narrow.
“And if you’re in a shitty mood, why did you call me?”
Because I’m lonely as fuck. “Maybe I just wanted to talk to my big brother.”
“How long has he been gone?” His voice is more gentle now, signaling that he’s done irritating me, and ready to be an ear.
“Two hellish weeks.” I sit on a rock, not even caring about the cold seeping through my coat to my ass.
“As soon as he left, I got sick.”
“Why didn’t you call? We would have come over to help.”
“Olivia was sick,” I remind him, mentioning his oldest daughter. “You and Nat have enough to deal with since you’ve decided to have more kids than anyone I know.”
“We always have time for you,” he replies easily. “I would suggest you come here when he’s gone, but I have a feeling that would be a no.”
“You’d be right. I love your kids, but it’s a lot of kids, Luke.”
“I know.” He laughs and I hear him talk to someone in the background before returning to me. “When is he supposed to be home?”
“Six hours ago.” I blow out a gusty breath. “I haven’t heard from him in about four hours. They were in L.A., and the plane couldn’t take off because SeaTac wasn’t letting anyone land because of the storm. So the private jet was grounded.”
“He’ll get here,” Luke replies. “What are your plans after he does?”
“They’re all X-rated,” I say with a smile. “I’m not telling.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to know. Do you need anything?”
My husband, that’s all.
“Nah. I’m going to go inside now that my face is numb and sulk for a while. Maybe I’ll reorganize my closet. I decided to add a vanity desk in there and that meant shuffling things around. The closet makes me happy.”
“Go thaw out. I’ll talk to you later.”
He hangs up and I let out one more gusty breath. I’m not usually this broody about Leo being gone. We’ve been married for a while now and touring isn’t anything new. Nash is world famous. I’m proud of him.
He’s fucking sexy as hell.
But I’ve missed him more this time, for reasons I can’t quite pin down.
I wander inside the massive house Leo built for me, toss my jacket on its hook in the mudroom, and shuffle in to the kitchen.
But just as I approach the island, movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention.
And there he is, standing there, grinning. That impossibly handsome smile, those tattooed arms crossed over his chest. That lip piercing winking at me in the light.
“Holy shit!” I run to him, launch myself into his arms and kiss him hard for at least three hours before coming up for air. “How did you get here?”
“Well, it was the flight from hell, but we were able to land. I was a grumpy ass, and the pilot probably just wanted to get rid of me.”
“I’m glad.” I drag my fingers down his cheek. He licks his lips, and my stomach clenches. “How is it possible that you got better looking?”
“I worked out,” he says. “The road is boring without you.”
“I would have just been a bother, with the flu and all.”
“I would rather have you with me so I can take care of you.”
He buries his face in my neck and kisses me gently, his hands gripping my ass tightly. He drags his nose up my neck and I freeze.
He pulls back, frowning down at me. “What?”
“So, I did a thing.”
I swallow and pull my hair off my neck, then turn my head so he can see what’s behind my ear.
“What is that?”
“Well, it isn’t Sharpie, I can tell you that. This hurt way too fucking much.”
“You got a tattoo?”
“You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”
His lips twitch and he slaps my ass. “You got your first tattoo without me?”
“I didn’t want you to see me like that,” I reply and kiss his chin. “I didn’t know how I’d take the pain, and I didn’t want to embarrass myself.”
“It’s on my head. Of course it hurt.”
“It’s a musical note.”
I nod and his eyes drift over my face.
“Why?” he asks.
“You have a su