Rockstar Baby (Crescent Cove 6)

I lifted my brows. Looked as if I’d be getting an education.

“You weren’t in baby town, were you? I’ve heard it’s easier there. Probably because there’s nothing to do out here but shovel or screw.”

Kellan laughed so hard I worried he’d dislodged a vocal cord. “Nope. We were here. Though we get water from Crescent Cove.”

“Hmm.” I wasn’t going to dwell on that overmuch, seeing as I’d just spent the night with a lovely resident of Crescent Cove myself.

Next time, perhaps I should suit up in double-walled Latex. Did such a thing exist?

Of course there wouldn’t be a next time. By the time I got back to town, Ivy would likely be long gone, her light minty scent all that remained on the sheets.

I smiled. But the memories of my sweet ginger fairy in firelight would always be mine.

“So, how about a tour? We’re still adding on, as you can see.” He gestured vaguely down the hall to where construction debris littered the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. “But we have another guest room now besides Wolf’s room and we have the studio. All new additions. I built this place just for me.”

I eyed his muscled biceps, nearly bursting through his T-shirt. “You built it? I’m not surprised.”

He grunted and led me through the living room to the dining room. The open concept of the place made it seem bigger than it actually was. “I had help.”

On our way past the kitchen, Maggie offered me a cup of steaming black coffee, nicely offset with a couple of scones. I bit into one as we entered the small studio on the other side of the kitchen and let out a sound that I’d never heard myself make before.

Unless I recalled last night with Ivy…

“Bacon and egg scones,” Kellan said knowingly. “It’s basically a breakfast cookie.”

I’d eaten half the thing before I came up for air to see the studio. It was a nice one, equipped with far more than the usual home setup. A capable mixing board lined one wall. In front of it sat a couple of cushy chairs, strategically placed rugs for acoustics, and a damn near plethora of instruments. The other walls held a few framed gold records.

“Get those on eBay, did you now?”

“Smart ass.”

“Are you planning on returning to your band?” I gestured at the gold records with the second half of my scone, before I ate it as swiftly as I’d consumed the first half. Maggie was a magician.

“I never left it. Those are my brothers. I’m just branching out while we’re on hiatus.”

I ran my fingers over the scone. They were the perfect texture for dunking. “Uh-huh.”

“Before you consid

er trying to steal my wife from me, be advised that’s one of the few things she makes well. Most of her meals come charbroiled—and not on purpose.”

“I heard that,” Maggie called from the kitchen, making us both laugh. “Remember that when you tell me you want an early bedtime.”

“Who needs a bed?”

I would’ve responded in kind if I hadn’t already resumed eating—well, dunking now. Whether they counted as one of her few dishes or not, these scones were a gift from God.

“Maggie, you’re a goddess behind a stove,” I called.

Kellan snorted. “He wants more scones.”

I did not confirm nor deny, but I was quite pleased when Maggie brought in another plate of them after we’d sat at the console.

“Thank you, love. Much appreciated.”

“Look at the manners on this one. You could learn a thing or seventeen, Kel.”

“You adore me for my rough exterior.”