Olivia Cunning: Rock Hard

Her eyes widened. “No. No, don’t do that. Not now. You’ll ruin everything.” She dropped his phone, stood, and pulled him to his feet by his shirt.

Her verbal slash to his heart stole his breath.

No? She’d said no. How could she say no?

Jessica turned and waved vigorously at the bridge overhead with both arms. She took Sed’s hands in hers. He felt it. He saw it. Her love. It was there in her eyes. So clear he could reach out and touch it. Why had she refused him?

Why?

The ring. It was too small. She deserved better. What had she said when she’d thrown it at him two years ago? Hock that cheap piece of shit. But even if that was her reasoning, he could not accept it. Would not. She loved him. He knew she did. So why? Why had she said no? What could he have done differently? He couldn’t let her go again. He just couldn’t. She had to—

“Sed, sweetheart. Look up at the bridge.”

Sed obeyed, too stunned to argue. He could barely hear the roar of a motorcycle on the bridge far above and then an enormous white banner unfurled over the edge of San Francisco’s most famous landmark. Will was written on the banner in huge red letters. A few seconds later a second banner opened. you . And then a third. marry . Someone (Jace?) was riding a motorcycle across the pedestrian walk of the bridge and opening the banners one by one. me. And the final banner fluttered open: .

“Pez?”

“Oh no, they got the last banner upside down.” Jessica laughed and then looked up at Sed. “It’s supposed to say Will you marry me, Sed ?” She smiled anxiously. “Well? Will you?”

Her beautiful face blurred as ridiculous, sentimental tears filled his eyes. He wiped at them with the heels of his hands. She was asking him? For real? Yes, yes, God yes. He lifted her left hand, pressed it to his trembling lips, and then, at long last, slid her ring on her finger.

She glanced down at it and gasped. “This is my ring. The one you gave me in Pittsburgh.”

He nodded, incapable of speech. His heart clogged his throat.

“You kept it? You didn’t hock it to fix your tour bus?”

“It never left my pocket. It’s yours, Jessica. Always has been, always will be,” he said breathlessly. “And now it’s back where it belongs. On your finger.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I can’t even tell you how much this means to me.” She clutched her hand to her chest, pressing the ring against her heart. Now her eyes were filling with ridiculous, sentimental tears. But they looked good on her. Sed cupped her cheek and kissed her tenderly, glad that insignificant trinket meant the world to her as it always had to him. After a long moment, she drew away from his caressing kiss.

“You never answered me,” she whispered. “Will you marry me, Sed?”

Unable to catch his breath, much less form words, he did the only thing a singer without a voice could do: he blinked.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jessica grinned and tackled him to the deck. She made short work of his shirt and feverishly pressed her lips along the hard ridge between his pecs, down his quivering belly to his belt buckle. “I’m feeling incredibly naughty, Sedric. How about we consummate this engagement, right here, right now?”

He smiled, knowing both his damned dimples were showing, but he was too giddy to care. “I accept your terms, counsel.”

She straddled his hips and pulled her dress off over her head. Her naked skin glowed like honey in the final rays of sunset. He covered her breasts with both hands and her eyes drifted closed in bliss. Dear God, this woman was awesome. His woman. His heart. His Jessica. His.

Sed was the happiest man on the planet. Life could not have been more perfect.

If it weren’t for music, my world would exist in a constant shade of grey. So thanks to the hundreds of musicians who have inspired my creative work and added color to my life. Keep on rocking, so I can keep rolling.

I’d like to thank my family for being understanding and patient when I’m in the writing zone and for never giving up on me. Their unending support and faith in my ability means more than they’ll ever know. Sean, you rock!

I’d like to thank my second readers—Sherilyn Winrose, Beth Hill, Judi Fennell, Lisa Brackmann, and Jill Lynn Anderson—for offering their excellent professional opinions and advice on this work. They helped make Sed sing and Jessica worthy of his devotion.

I’d also like to thank my online writing group, The Writin’ Wombats. I wouldn’t be where I am today without their knowledge, help, support, and occasional (okay, regular ) kicks in the pants.

Major thanks to my agent Jennifer Schober, who gets me through the business side of this with most of my hair still attached to my scalp.

Finally, I’d like to thank my awesome editor, Deb Werksman, who totally rocks, her ever-helpful associate, Susie Benton, and all the folks at Sourcebooks who believed in an unknown writer enough to give her an incredible opportunity.

Raised on hard rock music from the cradle, Olivia Cunning attended her first Styx concert at age six and fell instantly in love with live music. She’s been known to travel over a thousand miles just to see a favorite band in concert. She discovered her second love, romantic fiction, as a teen—first voraciously reading steamy romance novels and then penning her own. She currently lives in Nebraska.