Music of the Soul

  Music of the Soul

  Copyright © 2013 by Katie Ashley

  Formatting by Cris Soriaga | BookMarked! Designs

  Edited by Marrion Archer | Making Manuscripts

  Cover Designed by Letitia Hasser | RBA Designs

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  The Pairing Synopsis

  Strings of the Heart Synopsis

  About the Author

  To Cris Hadarly—thanks for loving Jake and Abby as much as I do. You’re the tiniest person yet greatest cheerleader I have! Thanks for supporting me and my books. Love you hard, girlie!!!

  First and foremost thanks goes to God for all of his amazing blessing in my life the past year.

  To my readers: I cannot thank you enough for your support and your love of my books. You are the most amazing blessing I have had in this business. Big, big hugs and love from me!

  To Marion Archer—editor and plot magician extraordinaire—I couldn’t make it without you. You bring so much to my books and make me a better writer and story-teller.

  To Marilyn Medina: Your “eagle eyes” know no bounds, and I’m so thankful for getting to work with you, as well as your friendship. Golden Girls 4-Ever!

  To Kim Bias: I can’t thank you enough for talking me down from the ledge as well as making my books the best they can be. Thanks for the plot/blurb sessions. You do rock my socks!

  To Shannon Furhman, Tammara Debbaut, Jen Gerchick, Jen Oreto, and Brandi Money: Thank you so much for being my “sluts” and working so hard to promote and support me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.

  To my street team, Ashley’s Angels, thank you so much for your support of me and my books.

  To Raine Miller and RK Lilley: SCOLS 4-EVER! Thanks for your unfailing love and support in all areas personally and professionally. I couldn’t ask for better friends and travel partners!

  To the ladies of the Hot Ones: Karen Lawson, Amy Lineaweaver, Marion Archer, and Merci Arellano, thank you all for the laughter, the friendship, and the support. You’re all amazing!!

  I ducked my head under one of the low hanging oak trees as my feet crunched along the gravel pathway. The ache in my chest grew as I made the familiar pilgrimage through the garden of multicolored stones. Cool Springs Memorial Park was the last place on earth I wanted to be today, but my heart drove me there.

  Close to the duck pond and beneath a massive oak tree was my mother’s final resting place. “Hey Mama,” I murmured, as I crouched down onto my knees on the grassy earth. The only reply I received was a few tweets from the birds nestled in the tree above me. “Brought you some flowers.” Although the sun had yet to fade the bouquet of silk lilies on her headstone, I had still brought new ones. A smile crept on my lips as I went about replacing the flowers. I could almost hear her chiding me while a perfect picture of her with her hand on hip while wagging a finger at me formed in my mind. “Jacob Ethan Slater, why on earth would you bring me new flowers when the ones I’ve got are perfectly good? Didn’t I teach you a thing about managing finances?”

  “There. That looks better, doesn’t it?” Cocking my head, I surmised the deep reds, oranges, and purples of the silk flower arrangement that I had just placed in the bronze vase on her marker. “Hope you like the fall flowers. Abby picked them out. Of course, if she was with me, she would know exactly how to reshape them and all, but I have no freakin’ clue.”

  Although I felt like a tool doing it, I always spoke aloud to her when I came to visit her grave. It wasn’t like I thought she could hear me—it was all part of my grief counseling. After her death when I had gone into a dark place, I had balked at seeing any professional therapists. I didn’t feel right sharing my deepest, darkest thoughts and feelings with a stranger. So Abby had volunteered her mother’s services. As the wife of a minister, Laura was used to consoling people. At times, I still felt guarded talking to her. She was the one who had given me the idea to talk to Mama to get my feelings out.

  Rising to my feet, I wiped my dirty hands on my jeans. “I won’t be back for a few weeks, but Papa is going to check in on you. You know, make sure your flowers are okay if it comes up a bad cloud, as he would say.” Grinning at the thought of my grandfather and his Southern euphemisms, I brushed the back of my hand over my face. “Abby and I are leaving tomorrow for Mexico—we’re getting married on some private beach there. I can’t even begin to understand what she has planned. I’m just keeping my mouth shut and going along for the ride.” Shaking my head, I smiled when I thought of how the office in my old house—now mine and Abby’s—had been transformed into wedding planning central.

  Gazing down at the marker, I sighed. “I know you’d be disappointed I wasn’t getting married in a church, Mama. Trust me, Abby’s parents totally flipped out that we weren’t getting married at her dad’s church. But this island is beautiful, and it gives us privacy from the paparazzi. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves for a week—they only bring meals and do housekeeping when you call, and then they come by private boat. After the last few months of touring, I’m stoked as hell to have all that time alone with Abby.”

  I knew I was rattling on now to try and steady my out-of-control emotions, but somehow in some small way, it helped. A breeze rippled my clothing, and I shifted on my feet, fighting the tears that burned my eyes. “I’d give anything in the world if you could be there, Mama—for you to be sitting there in the first row wearing a beautiful dress.” I shook my head and then wiped my eyes. I brought my fingers to my lips and kissed them. Then I reached down to touch her marker. “I love you as high as the sky,” I murmured. With the familiar ache of grief burning in my chest, I turned and started making my way back to the truck.

  It was hard to believe that almost two years had passed since my mother’s death. Sometimes it seemed like forever since I had seen her smile, held her in my arms, and kissed her cheek. Then other times, her memory was so strong that it was like I expected to turn a corner in the house and see her there. Through the dark cloud of grief, I hadn’t been the easiest person to be around or to love. Those first few months I drank too much, slept too much and generally acted like an asshole too much. But somehow Abby held on and wouldn’t let go. Having proposed to her so many months ago, I couldn’t wait to make her my wife.

  But unfortunately, life had gotten in the way. Just as I was dealing with the implosion of my personal life, the band experienced an explosion of popularity. More was expected of us than ever before. Our crossover tour with Jacob’s Ladder grew bigger and big
ger, and we sold out more and more shows as we crisscrossed the country. Then came the Grammys eight months ago when we really found ourselves in the celebrity stratosphere.

  Each and every time Abby and I tried to set a wedding date, another concert or appearance came up. I thought I was never going to get to make my angel Mrs. Jake Slater. But fortunately, we had finally found a one week window between the last leg of our tour and the holiday season, and in less than twenty-four hours, we would be exchanging vows on our own private beach in Mexico.

  Just the thought sent a goofy grin curving on my lips. As I turned onto the road I’d called home for the last fifteen years, I threw up my hand to one of my older neighbors who sat on his front porch. While he waved back, I could only imagine he was grumbling about me and how I’d caused all the traffic on the one way, gravel road. Well, it wasn’t entirely all me. Abby was to blame as well since it had been her idea to have a pre-wedding party at the farm.

  When I pulled in the driveway, I found cars lining both sides of the road along with several catering trucks. I eased up beside the barn and hopped out. My dog, Angel, came yipping to my side. “Hey girl, you keepin’ an eye on things for me?”

  She barked and wagged her tail. I patted her head before I started back up the hillside. Down below the house where we usually held our bonfires, a huge, white tent had been erected. We were doing a sit-down dinner and dancing celebration for over two hundred people who would be unable to come to Mexico since it was a ‘destination wedding’, as someone had called it. Tonight was mainly friends, extended family members, along with our road crew. Tomorrow was intended to be only our closest family and friends. Abby had wanted to keep the actual ceremony small with only fifty people in attendance. She claimed that she had to share me with so many people—the world when it came down to it—that on our special day, she wanted it to be as private as it could be.

  As I started up the front walkway, the sweetest sound in the world floated back to me. Abby’s singing. Although it was a part of my daily life when we were on tour, I never tired of hearing it. Without her voice, she would have never accidentally fallen into my bed for me to fall in love with. Craning my neck to find her, I jogged up the front steps.

  Down at the far end of the porch, Abby sat cross legged on the wicker couch with a guitar on her lap. Eli sat to her right in one of the rocking chairs. He strummed along with her, harmonizing on some of the lines. Gabe leaned back against the porch railing, tapping out the beat with his foot. Since we were coming right off our honeymoon to go back onto the road, I imagined they were trying to get in a little last minute rehearsal time.

  Abby’s eyes pinched shut in concentration, but as I made my way down the porch, they flew open as if she sensed my presence. Her gaze locked on mine as she sang the lyrics, “And I get lost in your eyes and thrilled at your touch. Nights like these were made for love.”

  With a smile, I winked at her. A pleased flush entered her cheeks as she continued singing. When she strummed the last chord, she glanced anxiously at me. It tugged at my heart that she always sought my approval when it came to her music. I nodded. “Very nice.”

  She gave me a beaming smile. “Thanks. It’s a cover of an old song by The Lynns. We wanted to add a song or two to the set arrangement while we’re writing the new stuff.”

  “Hmm, I knew it didn’t sound too familiar.”

  Eli snorted. “The daughters of Loretta Lynn were the best compromise we could make with Abby that didn’t involve busting out Coal Miner’s Daughter or something hideous like that!”

  I laughed as Abby scowled. “I can’t help that I appreciate the greats of country music,” she replied.

  I grinned at her. “I’ll agree with you on that one. I seem to remember some Dolly Parton karaoke in your past.”

  Abby grinned. “That’s right.” Glancing back at Eli, she said, “Be glad I’m not asking you to do a duet of Islands in the Stream.”

  “Over my dead body,” he grumbled.

  “You have nothing to worry about. I’m her only duet partner. Right, Angel?”

  “No one but you—now and forever.”

  Gabe made a gagging noise behind us. “Why don’t you guys get a room?” he suggested.

  Eli shook his head. “Don’t give them any ideas. That’s all we need to send Mom completely over the edge—Abby late for the reception after a bang-fest.”

  When I opened my mouth to tell them to go fuck themselves, Abby distracted me by leaning in and peering at my watch. “Oh shit, it’s after five? I’ve got to go get ready.” She handed her guitar to Gabe before bridging the gap between us. Glancing back at her brothers, she then asked in a low voice, “Did you get your errand done?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  She reached up on her tiptoes to plant a tender kiss on my lips. “I wish you would have let me go with you.”

  I shrugged. “Just something I needed to do. Besides, you had enough to do here.”

  Abby rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Between the wedding coordinator, the caterers and my mother, everything is taken care of. I seriously got shooed out of the kitchen when I tried to help. That’s why I got the boys together to rehearse.” A shudder rippled through her. “Too much nervous energy.”

  As she started into the house, I teasingly asked, “Having cold feet?”

  She skidded to a stop before whirling back around to wrap her arms around my neck. “Never, ever, Mr. Slater. You’re getting me as your lawfully wedded wife whether you like it or not.”

  I grinned. “Oh, I like it. In fact, I fucking love it.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that.” She kissed me again before pushing out of my arms. “Okay, I gotta go get presentable for this pre-wedding shindig of ours.” She eyed my ratty jeans and T-shirt. “I’d say the same for you, too.”

  “You’re such a bossy thing.”

  With a wink, she replied, “Get used to it, babe.”

  A warm rush filled my chest as she started into the house. I didn’t care if she bossed me around for the next fifty years, just as long as she was in my life. I’d never imagined loving anyone as much as I did Abby. Selflessly and unwaveringly, she had reached into the very darkest places of my soul to bring me back to the light. She’d shown me what the true, unfailing love of a good woman was. I would always owe her for loving me that much.

  Close on her heels, the urge to show her just how much I loved and wanted her overcame me. My dick instantly swelled at the idea of being inside her. Just as she rounded the corner to go into the master bedroom, I grabbed her wrist, jerking her back to me. My other hand came around to press her body flush against mine. When I ground myself into her core, her eyes bulged. “Jake, what are you—” she questioned breathlessly before I crushed my lips to hers. My tongue danced along hers as I wrapped my arms tighter around her. Her little moan caused me to shiver.

  When she felt my half-mast hard-on pressing into her stomach, she jerked away. “No, no, no!” she hissed. Her blonde ponytail flipped wildly back and forth as she shook her head at me. “We’re abstaining until our wedding night, remember?”

  I groaned. “You’re the one who made that decision, not me.”

  “You agreed to it,” she countered.

  “Yeah, that was a week and a half ago when I was coming off of an all-day sexathon with you. I didn’t realize what I was agreeing to.”

  Abby rolled her eyes. “It’s only twenty-four more hours, Jake.”

  Reaching over, I nuzzled my lips against her neck. I wasn’t playing fair since I knew it was one of her sensitive zones. A little sigh escaped her mouth when I ran my tongue across her jawline to suck on her earlobe. “I could explode by then.”

  “I just want our first time as man and wife to be special, that’s all.”

  I pulled away to arch my brows at her. “Do you really think tomorrow night is going to be the most amazing sexual experience of your married life?”

  She jerked her chin defiantly up at me. “Maybe,” she count
ered.

  My amused chuckle almost seemed to piss her off more. “Angel, we’re going to be exhausted from tonight’s party, jetlag, and the ceremony and reception. Bray and Lily didn’t even have sex on their wedding night—they passed out into an exhausted coma.” Taking her face in my hands, I grinned down at her. “By the flush on your cheeks and the way you just moaned into my mouth when I was kissing you, I can tell you really want to take me in that bedroom and have a quickie.”

  Abby chewed on her bottom lip, and I could tell her resolve was slowly fading. “It’ll have to be fast. Everyone is supposed to be here at six.”

  “We can shower together—you know, multitask.”

  She grinned. “Oh, you say the most romantic things. Think you can whisper more sweet words in my ear?” she teased.

  “Yeah, how about this? You’re such a sweet looking smartass,” I said before bringing my lips back to hers. Her eager tongue thrust into my mouth as she tightened her arms around my neck. Grabbing Abby by the ass, I hoisted her up and wrapped her legs around my waist. We both moaned at the closeness. With my lips locked on Abby’s, I balanced her under the ass with one hand while my other groped blindly for the doorknob. When I finally found it, I flung it open and staggered into the room.

  “Shit!” came a voice from the bed.

  When my eyes flew open, I was a goner. One glance was all it took to kill my wood. On the bed, Mia scrambled to close the front of her shirt with one hand while she held Bella in her other arm. She pivoted on the bed, so her back was to us.

  “Jesus,” I groaned as I glanced down at my crotch. Just that one glimpse of AJ’s breastfeeding fiancée was enough to completely obliterate my junk. My dick shriveled even further when Bella began shrieking and howling in protest that her meal had been interrupted.

  Mia gave us an apologetic look over her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, guys. With all the catering staff and people buzzing around, I thought this would be the best place to feed her before we got dressed for the party. I should have gone in the bathroom.”