She hooked her arm through his. “We’ve been holed up here for days now. Time to go on a date, huh?”
He let her drag him up the beach to their cottage. Her smiles were still strained. Maybe they could find an intimate table, share some food, and listen to some music. It had been a long time since they’d caught a show together.
Johnny Cage’s show was the last one he could think of. That night had gone remarkably well, especially when Johnny’s candor about the music industry and its pitfalls had been the catalyst for so much change in his—in their life.
She tangled her fingers with his for a minute at the door then slipped away. “I’m going to shower off this sand.”
“Want company?”
“Is it okay if I say no?”
Hurt bloomed in his chest, but he made himself smile. “Sure. Go use up the hot water. You know I like it cooler anyway.”
“Thanks.” She slipped into the bathroom and shut the door.
He dropped into one of the club chairs and tipped his head back. Everyone was entitled to an off day. Even on a honeymoon. But they’d had such an amazing evening. What had happened between then and now? He just wasn’t sure if he was the cause or if she was just in a funk.
There was no reason for it as far as he could tell. They’d been laughing and then things had gone a bit downhill at the bar. Well, except for the whole booth thing. Christ, Harper had nearly put him in the ground with the dirty talk. She wasn’t normally like that. He shifted in his seat, hardening at the memory. If he didn’t know better, he was pretty sure she would have gone under the damn table. Then they’d seemed to go back to normal, a bit of much needed romance.
When the door to the bathroom opened, Deacon stood. Wide blue eyes that seemed bruised stared back at him for a moment before she broke contact and tucked her towel tighter around her. He crossed to her, coming up behind her in front of the wide mirror over the entertainment console along the side wall. Again, she wouldn’t meet his gaze. Instead of saying anything more, he kissed her shoulder and went into the bathroom.
By the time he washed the sea off of him, she had dressed and pinned her hair up. This was the rare date night Harper. Gold jewelry flashed from her wrists and ears, and she had an extra layer of makeup on she only wore when they had to entertain. Tonight, she’d done something with her eyes, making them look smoky and sophisticated. Her lips were slick with clear gloss that made him want to wipe it away and leave them wet from his mouth instead.
Thin straps teased her sun-kissed shoulders, leaving her arms bare then covering the rest of her to ankles. The black and white dress looked like it was created for the beach. Loose and forgiving for skin that had seen too much skin and sand.
“You look amazing.”
She smiled softly at him as she pushed one of the bangle bracelets high onto her forearm. “I’m glad I got the excuse to wear this. Jazz and I found it last month when she dragged me downtown.” She turned to her cell when it chimed and Deacon swallowed his tongue. The dress was completely backless, coming to a deep U-shape at the base of her spine.
She was bound and determined to kill him today. They were social people so whether it was a meeting or a dinner to schmooze, he was used to going out with her. He wasn’t used to feeling so overbearing and protective. Like he wanted to tell everyone to go to hell and keep her to himself.
He snapped out a pair of jeans from their bag and unrolled a black linen shirt. He dressed and took the extra five minutes to blow dry his hair. He didn’t want to embarrass her by looking like a beach bum next to her tonight. He put down the hair dryer and smoothed his hair back. “Are you sure you want to go out tonight?”
“I’ve got my party dress on, don’t I?”
“I can have it off you in five seconds.”
“We’re going out.” Her voice was steady and her eyes were nearly unreadable.
Why was she trying to convince him she wanted to go out so much when it was so obvious that wasn’t the case? Unwilling to push and cause a fight, he grabbed the car keys off the console. “Let’s go then.”
Fifteen minutes later, they navigated the small parking lot of The Muse. Murals overlapped each other on the front of the building like gang tags. Slashes of paint in bright colors over muted, dark oils mixed with spray paint making an interesting mess of pure art.
The sign over the door were letters made out of gear parts and found metals. All of it looked old and modern at the same time.