Beck Bear
Page 21
He caught her, of course. He was good at that—catching her. And as he brushed her hair from her face, he looked at her like she was the air, and not the other way around.
And when his lips pressed to hers, the crowd went nuts. She smiled the whole way through that kiss, and so did he. Hugging her so tight, letting her feet dangle, he nipped her lip and eased back, looked her right in the eyes and said, “I quit this industry unless you produce my records.”
“What?”
The label will take all my money for breach of contract, but I don’t give a single fuck. You’re the reason I love this again. You’re the reason…I…love. Start a label, produce me, let’s live like we have ten thousand days left.”
She cupped his cheeks and tried her best not to bust out crying, but the dam was nothing but rubble now. All she could do was nod because her voice would break on her answer.
“Yeah? Is that a yes?”
She nodded again as the tears started falling. “You gave music back to me, too.”
The smile on his lips fell, but then came back softer. “I know what that really means.”
“Tell me.”
“You love me.”
Oh, she did. She really did. “How did you know?”
He kissed her once more. “Because I feel the same.”
Epilogue
“From the top,” she said from behind the glass. “It’s close but not quite there. Maybe hold that last note a second longer.”
“Yep,” Rhett drawled, adjusting his guitar.
“One, two…one, two, three, four,” Uncle Denny murmured, and he and Dad began strumming together in the background.
Rogue Rebel Records was now a thing, and they had three days to record an album before Vyr was demanding them back home.
This was her life, and it was a beautiful one. The last couple of days had been chaos, but so fulfilling she didn’t miss her old life at all.
Everything made sense now. They were going to release these songs for cheap, just to get them into listeners’ headphones. No gimmicks or high-tech equipment. Guitars, mics, and a whole lot of heart, back here in the office of Sammy’s where the Beck Brothers had produced all their albums. It suited Rhett. He was happy, and the new songs were flowing out of him. He was hitting his stride with these songs since no one was telling him what to do or how to write them anymore.
He was in control, and he was flourishing right in front of her. A total pro.
She was so damn proud of him.
Maybe they would sell one record or thousands. They didn’t know and they didn’t care. They were in this for the music, for the audience, for that feeling in their souls that they were making something special.
“That’s it,” she said into the mic with the biggest grin. “Nailed it. That’s exactly what it needed.”
“Okay,” Remi said from where she’d been going over numbers with Kong on how much Pen15 Juice beer she and Kamp could get him in two weeks. “Now go in there with him. I want to take a picture.”
“What? No, I don’t need a picture of me.”
Remi held up her phone, and on the screen was the pic of her as a little kid in this very room, coloring while Dad and Uncle Denny recorded. They’d kept the sound of the scratch of her crayons in that song.
Juno smiled at the memory. “You want to recreate it?”
“Nah,” Remi said. “I want to improve it.”
And so Juno made her way into the recording studio. She tried to sit next to Rhett, but he wouldn’t have it. He pulled her onto his lap, and before she even settled from her laughing, Remi snapped a picture on her phone. And when she showed her, Juno’s heart swelled.
She was mid-laugh, and so was Rhett as he looked at her. Dad and Uncle Denny were grinning in the background, holding their guitars under the Beck Brothers, Rhett Copeland, and Rogue Rebel Records signs the Ashe Crew had made and added to the room.
Whatever filter Remi had used made the picture look grainy and old, as if it had been taken all those years ago.
And as Juno and Rhett stared at the picture, she knew pieces of her really had died in her twenty-seventh year. But her favorite parts lived on and were growing. Perhaps love did that, or perhaps it was finding something she was truly passionate about, she didn’t know. All she knew was the day she’d found Rhett, he’d changed the course of her entire life for the better.
A home. A place. A niche. A great love. A story. A life worth living.
He’d given them all to her.
A gift for a gift, he’d once said. He’d thought it was the guitar, but she saw it differently.
He’d gotten her living again.
And that was the greatest gift of all.
And when his lips pressed to hers, the crowd went nuts. She smiled the whole way through that kiss, and so did he. Hugging her so tight, letting her feet dangle, he nipped her lip and eased back, looked her right in the eyes and said, “I quit this industry unless you produce my records.”
“What?”
The label will take all my money for breach of contract, but I don’t give a single fuck. You’re the reason I love this again. You’re the reason…I…love. Start a label, produce me, let’s live like we have ten thousand days left.”
She cupped his cheeks and tried her best not to bust out crying, but the dam was nothing but rubble now. All she could do was nod because her voice would break on her answer.
“Yeah? Is that a yes?”
She nodded again as the tears started falling. “You gave music back to me, too.”
The smile on his lips fell, but then came back softer. “I know what that really means.”
“Tell me.”
“You love me.”
Oh, she did. She really did. “How did you know?”
He kissed her once more. “Because I feel the same.”
Epilogue
“From the top,” she said from behind the glass. “It’s close but not quite there. Maybe hold that last note a second longer.”
“Yep,” Rhett drawled, adjusting his guitar.
“One, two…one, two, three, four,” Uncle Denny murmured, and he and Dad began strumming together in the background.
Rogue Rebel Records was now a thing, and they had three days to record an album before Vyr was demanding them back home.
This was her life, and it was a beautiful one. The last couple of days had been chaos, but so fulfilling she didn’t miss her old life at all.
Everything made sense now. They were going to release these songs for cheap, just to get them into listeners’ headphones. No gimmicks or high-tech equipment. Guitars, mics, and a whole lot of heart, back here in the office of Sammy’s where the Beck Brothers had produced all their albums. It suited Rhett. He was happy, and the new songs were flowing out of him. He was hitting his stride with these songs since no one was telling him what to do or how to write them anymore.
He was in control, and he was flourishing right in front of her. A total pro.
She was so damn proud of him.
Maybe they would sell one record or thousands. They didn’t know and they didn’t care. They were in this for the music, for the audience, for that feeling in their souls that they were making something special.
“That’s it,” she said into the mic with the biggest grin. “Nailed it. That’s exactly what it needed.”
“Okay,” Remi said from where she’d been going over numbers with Kong on how much Pen15 Juice beer she and Kamp could get him in two weeks. “Now go in there with him. I want to take a picture.”
“What? No, I don’t need a picture of me.”
Remi held up her phone, and on the screen was the pic of her as a little kid in this very room, coloring while Dad and Uncle Denny recorded. They’d kept the sound of the scratch of her crayons in that song.
Juno smiled at the memory. “You want to recreate it?”
“Nah,” Remi said. “I want to improve it.”
And so Juno made her way into the recording studio. She tried to sit next to Rhett, but he wouldn’t have it. He pulled her onto his lap, and before she even settled from her laughing, Remi snapped a picture on her phone. And when she showed her, Juno’s heart swelled.
She was mid-laugh, and so was Rhett as he looked at her. Dad and Uncle Denny were grinning in the background, holding their guitars under the Beck Brothers, Rhett Copeland, and Rogue Rebel Records signs the Ashe Crew had made and added to the room.
Whatever filter Remi had used made the picture look grainy and old, as if it had been taken all those years ago.
And as Juno and Rhett stared at the picture, she knew pieces of her really had died in her twenty-seventh year. But her favorite parts lived on and were growing. Perhaps love did that, or perhaps it was finding something she was truly passionate about, she didn’t know. All she knew was the day she’d found Rhett, he’d changed the course of her entire life for the better.
A home. A place. A niche. A great love. A story. A life worth living.
He’d given them all to her.
A gift for a gift, he’d once said. He’d thought it was the guitar, but she saw it differently.
He’d gotten her living again.
And that was the greatest gift of all.
