Easy Melody (Boudreaux 3)

The fact that the freaking Travel Channel is filming in her place is amazing. Not that she hasn’t earned it. Everything about the place has changed, not just because of the renovations, but because of the woman who runs the show.

And the producer is a smart man for recognizing that. The segment on the show will only be a little over ten minutes, but they’ve shot at least an hour's worth of coverage to make sure that they have enough footage to pull from. I’ll be performing in about an hour, and they’ll get more filming in then.

“She’s doing great,” Adam murmurs as he walks up beside my table. I purposely sat where I can keep an eye on my girl. Just in case.

“That she is,” I agree with a nod. “Not that I thought she’d do otherwise.”

“She’s a pro,” Adam says. “She deserves this.”

“You both do.” He shrugs, but I don’t let it go. “You both worked your asses off, and continue to, Adam. She knows that, and so do you.”

“It’s her place,” he insists, then pats my shoulder and returns to the bar, where he winks at a redhead and asks what he can get her.

Finally, Callie stands and shakes hands with the camera crew, waits patiently to have the mics taken off her clothes, and walks straight to me.

Good girl.

“You did so great,” I say as I fold her into my arms and hug her tight. God, I love the way she fits just perfectly.

“I was so nervous,” she admits with a sigh. “But my part is done.”

“You were great,” I repeat and tip her head up, my finger under her chin, to see her eyes. “You nailed it.”

She smiles and squares her shoulders, claiming her power back, and I can’t help but smile.

“What?” she asks with a grin.

“I love the way you shrug into your badass,” I reply before kissing her forehead. “And I love that I’m the only one who gets to see you when you take it off.”

“I—” She bites her lip and looks down, then just shakes her head. “Have a great set tonight.”

“What were you going to say?”

“It’s not important,” she replies before leaning in and pressing a kiss to my collarbone. “Break a leg.”

“I’ve never understood that sentiment,” I reply as I turn toward the stage. The bar is filling up. I’ll have a packed audience tonight. “We’ll finish that conversation later.”

She waves me off and walks away, and my eyes are drawn to the long, lean lines of her back and legs. Her ass is just perfect, and fits just right in my hands.

I can’t wait to get my hands on her later.

But first, I have to put on a show for the bar patrons and the cameras. But this is what I do best, so I’m not worried in the least.

I’m just ready to have tonight finished so Callie and I can leave for Seattle tomorrow. Three whole days, with Callie all to myself without business to see to, sounds like my idea of heaven.

***

“I’m kind of in love with this hotel,” Callie says as she checks out our suite at the Four Seasons Seattle. “I mean, look at this view!” She stands, face pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, and stares out at the Puget Sound before us. We’re in the penthouse, and not only can we see the water, but we can see a good portion of the city as well. “I bet it’ll be beautiful when it gets dark.”

All I can do is stand and watch, my hands shoved in my pockets, as she looks at everything as quickly as she can, as if she can’t decide what she should look at first.

“The tub is a freaking swimming pool!” she calls from the bathroom, then kisses me as she passes into the other portion of the suite. “Oh my God! There’s a baby grand in here!” She pokes her head around the diving wall and smiles at me. “We like those.”

“That we do,” I reply with a grin, picturing her spread before me the way she was on my piano a few weeks ago. I would not complain if she wanted to recreate that particular fantasy.

“This kitchen is ridiculous!”

I follow her and silently agree. The massive gourmet kitchen is a bit much for a hotel room, especially given that neither of us likes to cook and room service will be our source of nutrition, but it is a beautiful added touch to the space. Finally, she spins and leans on the breakfast bar, facing me. “I know I’m silly, like a little kid who’s never stayed at a hotel before, but I’ve never stayed in the penthouse before.”

“You’re not silly, you’re cute.”

She cocks a brow. “Cute?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I nod and circle around the island, and when she would turn to face me, I take her shoulders in my hands, keeping her still. “Do you know what else you are?”

She tries to look at me again, but I hold her still. “Stay.”

“You’re bossy.”

“I didn’t ask you what I am, I asked you what you are.” She’s in jeans and a big sweatshirt with the neck cut out so it falls over her left shoulder, showing me her bra strap and lots of soft, delicious skin. Before I begin, I unbutton and lower her jeans, nudging her to step out of them, but I leave the sweatshirt.

I’m going to have fun with that.

“I don’t know. What am I, bossy man?”

I grin and pull her loose blond hair back into a tail, tilt her head to the right, and lick, in one long motion, from her ear to the tip of her shoulder, then drag my lips back up the same path.

“You’re sexy,” I breathe. God, I love her neck. I scoop the hair that has escaped my hands out of my way and kiss and nibble the back of her neck, then over to the opposite side and pull the sweatshirt aside so I can taste her shoulder. “You’re delicious.”