“I’m going to be so late.” I laughed as he cupped my boobs and leaned in for a kiss.
“We can be quick.” He licked my neck and hitched my leg over his arm, grabbing my ass with his other hand to keep me stable.
I braced myself on his shoulders. Jace backed me against the tiled wall of our walk-in shower, canted his hips and impaled me with one thrust.
Jace breathed into my ear as he surged inside me. “Rub your clit, Poppy.”
Furiously, I flicked over my nub as we chased a quick release. Jace cupped my ass and lifted me up holding me against the wall, rolling his hips. I clawed at his neck to keep myself stable. Our foreheads touched; rivulets of water ran down our faces as the rain shower fell around us. Using his strong, muscled arms and shoulders, Jace rocked me onto his hard cock, shifting to find the right angle, and when he hit the mark I screamed in ecstasy.
“That’s it, there it is.” Jace sucked my earlobe, which sent jolts right to my pussy and I convulsed all around him.
“Jesus!” I cried.
“No, Jace!” He laughed and then groaned, his head lolling back as he climaxed inside me.
We were drying off when the distinct crunch of gravel on the driveway let us know a car had arrived.
“Shit! They’re here!” I started panicking.
“It’s fine, I’ll go out first.” Jace shook out his hair and pulled on his jeans, commando. He grabbed a T-shirt from the closet, toed on some flip-flops, and headed out to greet our guests.
Quickly, I dried my hair and put on a long-sleeved, blue T-shirt and black leggings, my new black Frye boots, and headed into the living room to the most heartwarming sight in the world.
Jace held Helena tenderly in his arms, her big blue eyes staring into his intense green ones. She tugged at his wet hair, and he blew a raspberry on her cheek. Lost in the little girl’s sweet face, Jace cupped her head and held it against his chest as he turned to watch me cross the room.
I held out my arms. “Give me the baby.”
Jace held her out to me, and I settled her on my hip. Helena’s honey-blond hair curled slightly around her collar. Her black-and-white striped T-shirt had a mouse decal embroidered by the collar, and she wore tiny black Frye boots over black leggings.
She pointed to the bananas in the kitchen. “Ba-ba?”
“I’ll cut one up for her.” Jace headed for the kitchen.
“So, this will be the last weekend before the hearing,” Janice, the social worker said. “I don’t see any reason why the adoption won’t go through within the month.”
“Awesome,” I said, kissing my daughter’s head.
After we learned that Jace wasn’t Helena’s biological father, Ty insisted that Jace attend a few special counseling sessions with him. Ty was still working through some of his abandonment issues with his mother, and Jace was still feeling really conflicted about the Cassie situation. Years before, Ty had worked with a therapist in Los Angeles who specialized in counseling just for musicians. It had done him wonders.
Lisa Kinkaid was smart and gorgeous with a punk-rock sensibility, her raven-haired, waist-length hair had pink and violet streaks throughout. I should have hated her because she was so trendy and cool, but she was also unwaveringly professional. She had insisted that Zoey and I sit in on a group session and afterward, both of us were sold.
Neither of us really comprehended the physical and mental demands of being on the road and how much it took a toll on our men’s physical and mental well-being. Both expressed feelings of extreme loneliness and depression while they were touring, and we learned how closely it was tied to their cortisol levels. During a live performance, they would be on a high, almost like skydiving, only to be let down once the show was over. These extreme feelings became more pronounced as their success increased, rather than the other way around.
Combined with lack of sleep, bad food, no set routine, and being away from family, it was no wonder so many musicians struggled with substance abuse and infidelity—they were conditioned to chase an artificial high.
Lisa’s work with Ty had been instrumental in how they changed up their routine on their last tour. Once Jace began participating in sessions, he was so blown away that he planned on having group therapy with all of LTZ before they went out on the road again.
Another thing that helped Jace was our horses. When I had thought about it objectively, volunteer work at rescues had been very therapeutic and changed me. Not just because I wanted to save as many horses as possible. Taking care of them healed my own soul and made me a calmer, better person. After doing a little research, I found out that horse therapy was actually a thing. My own plan was to eventually become certified.
In the meantime, Jace and I wanted to keep things simple. Enjoy our own horses. Reap all of the soul-healing rewards. Adopt Helena.
Which is why we added Beanie, a gorgeous chestnut pony, to our stable. It seemed like the right thing to do when we decided to pursue custody of Helena. Jace took lead on her rehab and was doing an amazing job.
Our decision to adopt originated out of one of Jace’s sessions with Lisa and Ty. Jace hadn’t known the depth of how awful Ty’s childhood was and how living with a mother who couldn’t—and wouldn’t—take care of him negatively affected his life. My Viking drummer had a wonderful, supportive, and loving family and so did I. We wanted to share that love.
It was incomprehensible the great lengths Cassie’s family had tried to manipulate Jace. Once the relief that he wasn’t Helena’s father wore off, we both began to worry about what would become of her without Jace in her life. Jace
