Rock Chick Renegade (Rock Chick, #4)

His hand went to the side of my head and his fingers ran through my hair.

“What’s on for your day?” I asked and I found that I liked this. I liked cuddling and talking after spending the night together and morning sex. It didn’t cause a bel y whoosh or flutter or plummet, it just made me feel warm, relaxed, mel ow… happy.

I hadn’t felt real y happy in twelve years and it was nice as in super nice.

“I’m gonna take Roam and Sniff out later. Can you bring them to Fortnum’s when you talk to Tex?”

Okay, I was back to the bel y whoosh.

I nodded, smiling at him again, this time I suspected it was giddily. This was confirmed when Vance’s eyes got warm and soft or warmer and softer.

“Doesn’t take much with you, does it?” he murmured.

“This may not seem much for you, Crowe, but it’s gonna rock Roam and Sniff’s worlds.”

He didn’t respond.

“What does it take for you?” I whispered and wished I hadn’t.

That was a moonlight question. Even feeling mel ow and happy, I wasn’t quite sure I was ready for a moonlight conversation in the morning. We’d had one yesterday and I was thinking once a week was my quota.

Surprisingly he didn’t hesitate in giving his response, clearly not sharing my moonlight restrictions on deep, meaningful, soul-shattering conversations.

“Making you come, watching you come, hearin’ you say my name when you do.”

Wel one thing you could say for that, it had a theme.

He wasn’t finished. “Not knowin’ what ridiculous shit is gonna come out of your mouth and make me smile, Yoko Ono, learnin’ to knit, namin’ your car Hazel.” Okay, I was back to needing the moonlight. That was too much. Especial y since his face had changed and so had the air. He stil had that warm and soft look but somehow it was mingled with intensity and I didn’t know what was going to come next. What I did know was that I wasn’t going to be prepared for it whatever it was.

“Crowe –”

I was right, he’d saved the real whammy for last and I wasn’t prepared for it.



When he spoke again, his voice had that fierce undercurrent and it slid across my skin, shrouding me in velvet. “Knowin’ I got something to live for now that you’re mine. Keepin’ it that way, workin’ at keepin’ this good like it is right now.”

I stopped breathing and he kept talking.

“I can go back now, to the rez, to my family with you on the back of my bike.”

My lungs started burning with lack of oxygen but that was okay considering my heart had also stopped beating. I figured I was going to die at any moment and I was total y fine with that.

Vance continued. “They can see that, despite them, I made it to the other side, passed their shit. While they lived their dysfunction, I worked my way to something better, ridin’ up with you wrapped around me.”

I butted in, it took a great deal of effort, mainly because I was overwhelmed by what he was saying. “Vance, you’re defined by more than just me giving my virginity to you.” After I said that he kissed me softly then he did it again then again. Then his face an inch away from mine he said, “You’re right, Princess. That’s not what I’m sayin’. It isn’t about that, though that was a bonus. Even if I hadn’t been your first, I stil would claim you as mine. But any man is defined by the woman who shares her bed with him.”

“That isn’t true.”

“It is and it works the other way too.”

Oh my God.

Did he real y think that?



Did he real y think that?

“Crowe –”

“Which means, if someone like you, someone as unbelievably beautiful as you, as crazy and sweet as you, fil ed with attitude and courage with her heart in the right place, in a lot of right places even though her head normal y isn’t… if someone like you shares her bed with me, then that says something about me.”

Oh… my… God.

(I was going to let the comment about my head not being in the right place slide because the rest of it was so fucking nice.) “Vance –”

“Shut up, Jules.”

I decided to give up tel ing him not to tel me to shut up and desperately looked for a different topic that was safe for morning discussions. I needed to move on, process this later perhaps in the night-time hours with the moonlight coming in the window and Vance asleep while we were test-driving another Most Favorite Sleeping Position.

Final y I blurted, “You never answered me. Do you like The Beatles?”

He stared at me a beat then said, “What?”

“The Beatles. Do you like them?”

He total y had my number. I knew it when the intensity slid away, a slow grin spread on his face and he kissed me softly again. Thankful y, he let the moonlight conversation go and I knew this was because he knew I needed him to let it go… for now.



“Yeah,” he answered.

“Stevie Wonder?”

“Yeah,” he repeated.

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