Page 89 of Hendrix
Hendrix played the closing bars to the song and grinned at the shouts of appreciation that cut through the air. Immediately, he began to strum the opening chords to “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles.
My belly dipped as memories of Hendrix softly playing the same song to me as we sat on my window seat, watching the sun rise over the Wyoming mountains, began to flash through my mind.
The doors to the bar flew open, and I was pulled out of my daydreams by a tiny bundle of a little girl surging toward me, her white-blonde hair flying out behind her and tears streaking down her face.
“Uh-oh,” Freya murmured from the chair beside me just as Fender’s daughter Addie threw herself bodily at me before scrambling onto my lap, winding her little arms around my neck, and pressing her face into my throat with a wrenching sob.
“Sweet girl,” I murmured, rocking her in my arms. “Why are you crying?”
She pulled back, looking at me with huge, silvery-blue eyes, just like her mama’s. “Daddy says I can’t have a new dress for my party,” she cried. “He hasn’t got time to take me, and he doesn’t know where to go in town.” She looked forlornly down at her jeans that were too long in the leg. “I don’t have anything pretty to wear like the other girls, and it’s my party.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Mama would know what to do.”
Freya’s head tipped back, and she clutched her heart.
I got how she felt.
Addie was missing her mom terribly. Fender was doing his best, and he was fine with the boys as they mainly hung out at the auto shop with the brothers, who were setting it up, but he seemed lost with what to do with his baby girl.
Luckily, she had me, Freya, Carina, and Gigi. She also hung out with Ciara, though I kept telling Hendrix a biker bar wasn’t the best place for little girls, so I tried my best to take her under my wing.
“How about I take you to town, and we get you a new party dress?” I suggested.
Her tears instantly dried up, and she nodded enthusiastically.
“Can I come?” a voice asked from behind.
I craned my neck to see Gigi standing behind my chair, looking between us with big, excited eyes.
“Sure,” I told her. “But check it’s okay with your mom.”
Gigi waved a hand. “She won’t mind. Can we go toMiss-tique? Their clothes are so cool, and I’ve got a new gift card from Blade.”
My lips twitched because Hendrix’s big, stoic, ex-military VP spoiled this little girl. He was always slipping her gift cards and cash. Anything Gigi wanted, she got, which was amazing and heartwarming but pissed off her mother, who grumbled that if he wasn’t careful, he’d turn her girl into an entitled brat.
I kinda got where Carina was coming from, but I couldn’t help getting the warm and fuzzies every time Blade and Gigi whispered their secret conversations, no doubt cooking something up between them that would piss Carina off again.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the guitar playing had stopped and that the music was now coming from the speakers instead of Hendrix.
“What’s goin’ on?” he rumbled from beside me.
My neck swiveled to see him standing by the table, his arms folded over his chest and straining against the sleeves of his T-shirt.
“I’m taking Gigi and Addison to town,” I informed him. “We need new clothes.”
He tilted his head to one side. “You never told me you needed new clothes. Would’ve sorted it.”
I swept a hand down my body. “I’m the size of a house,” I pointed out. “Plus, I’m a woman. In what universe don’t I need new clothes?”
His mouth split into a grin. “Works for me. Gotta go to Target and pick a few things up anyway. I’ll take you ladies to the stores and then treat you to lunch.”
My eyes narrowed. “Who are you? And what have you done with Jameson? If I’d have dared to ask you to come shopping with me four years ago, you would’ve had an aneurysm. God forbid you had to stand in a women’s clothing store and wait five minutes while I tried something on.”
Hendrix leaned down and brushed his lips across mine. “I’m a new man, baby. House-trained, and now it seems I’m store-trained, too. I’ll make a deal with you. If you agree to let me come and don’t give me any bullshit sass, I’ll even hold your purse for you while you’re in the changing room. You’re more than seven months pregnant and in a strange town. I’ll drop you off at a coffee place and get my shit done. Then I’ll come back and meet you for lunch, we’ll shop, and I’ll bring you home after.”
“Can we go to the Cowshed?” Gigi asked.
“We’ll go wherever you girls want,” he replied, his eyes never leaving mine.
Turning my head slightly to address Gigi, I asked, “What’s the Cowshed?”
