I remained just in the distance of the crowd so I could take him in, my eyes roaming over him with hunger and need.
The man was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, so perfectly imperfect as he flashed his imposing grin for the camera, everything about him intriguing and mysterious and a little bit frightening.
I watched as he interacted with the press and his fans, engaged yet somehow reserved, the man giving them what they expected, the surface and the show.
But I saw everything written beneath.
Mid-sentence, he trailed off and for a moment he froze. Grey eyes lifted.
Seeking.
As if he felt the weight of my gaze upon him—the same way I always felt his.
When they latched onto me, I full out shook. His strange intensity filled the air, powering into me, wave after crashing wave.
We were locked in a stare.
Shock and confusion sifted through his expression.
But I saw it the second it hit him. The realization I was really there. The relief as he forgot everything else happening around him.
All except for me.
Abandoning his circle of admirers, he wove his lithe body through the crowd, shouldering through, ignoring everyone who tried to get his attention.
With every purposeful stride he took in my direction, my heart hammered harder, the quiet gasps slipping in and out of my lungs coming shorter and sharper until they were gone.
Breathless.
And I was in his arms, swept from my feet.
He twirled us once in a staggered spin, before he twisted a single hand up in my hair, the other firm and secure as he held me around my lower back.
I clung to his shoulders as every inch of me glowed.
That mouth was suddenly overtaking mine, all tender lips, eager intentions, and stunning man.
He whispered between kisses, “Shea…baby…Shea. Fuck…I missed you…missed you so fuckin’ bad.”
My hands found his face. “I missed you…more than you could know.”
He let my body slide down the hard length of his, but he didn’t release his hold. If anything, he held me closer as my old red cowgirl boots touched the floor, even though I was still soaring in the clouds.
He dropped his forehead to mine and breathed me in. “Finally get what that old sayin’ ‘sight for sore eyes’ really means.”
A small giggle rippled from between my lips, where his still hovered, the air between us charged. “Happy Birthday.”
He grunted, fingers digging into my sides. “Best. Birthday. Ever.”
“Yeah?”
“Hell yeah. How long will you be here?”
“Until Sunday.”
I pulled back to look up at his gorgeous face, all hard lines and defined jaw and full, full lips.
God. How was this man mine?
I raked my teeth across my bottom lip, going for a tease. “You’re not disappointed I just showed up here unannounced to crash your party? In some circles, that might be considered rude.”
He laughed a disbelieving sound. “Uh…no. Pretty damned sure you just made my entire year. About to lose my damned mind without you.”
He hugged me again as he exhaled in relief, taking me in a gentle sway, a slow dance in the middle of a barrage of camera flashes and subdued whispers and a few catcalls coming from none other than Ash himself.
Sebastian suddenly pulled back, attention jumping all around me. “Where’s Kallie?”
“At home.”
He frowned.
“Charlie promised to man the bar while I was gone and Tamar took the weekend off to help April with her.” I arched a brow. “I didn’t think bringing a four-year-old to Vegas to celebrate a rock star’s birthday would be the best parenting choice I could make.”
He feigned a horrified gasp. “You left my daughter in the care of Tamar? We are talking about the woman who looks like she wants to cut every guy’s balls off simply because he’s a man? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
My daughter.