Bo & Ember (21 page)

Willow gave me a quick peck on the cheek before she slipped into the control room and took her seat next to Beckett.

I took a look in the listening room and saw ten people aged eighteen to thirty. A well-crafted listening demographic, which highlighted the tactical marketing on Grounded Sound’s website. There were a mix of genders and races, but one thing was common: they were all excited to see us. Smiles and waves and claps put a smile on my face as Bo and I settled onto our stools and placed our headphones over our heads.

Yardley entered the recording room and motioned for Beckett to turn on the mic she pointed to.

“Thank you all for coming,” she spoke to the hipster and hippie group that was assembled. “You’ll get to hear Bo and Ember perform one of the songs—of their choice—already recorded for the album, and one that they’ll record live. At the end of the session, there will be a ten-minute break while Celtic Summer sets up, and then you’ll listen to them. Anyone caught using their cell phones will be asked to leave. Let’s all have a great afternoon of listening to hot, fresh music.”

Yardley waved again to Beckett, who clicked her mic off for her. Then, she addressed us.

“Tom is our media guy. You might see him milling between the listening room and the recording room. There are cameras hardwired into the studios to cut down on bulk, but he’ll just be checking the sound, and such, as you warm up. Take a few minutes to do that, and then start with that ballad you played earlier, "Crimson Minute." “

When she left, I turned to Bo and nodded to the listening room. We heard the click of our mics being turned on and I smiled into mine.

“Thank you all for being here. We’re excited to share with you what we’ve been working on. "Crimson Minute" is a piece Bo and I worked on over the summer.” I looked at Bo, encouraging him to speak.

“Thanks, love,” he started. While we couldn’t hear what was happening in the listening room, I could see the love-struck smiles on the faces of the women in the room. “It’s been a pleasure recording this album with my wife, and we’re ready to share some of it with you. It’s kind of a peek into our relationship.”

With that, the girls all nearly melted. Bo tried to hide his grin, but it was impossible. We counted together and took off with our love story, as told through music.

Bo

E
mber and I had the next day off. Regan, and the rest of his group were scheduled to work pretty late into the day in order to lay a few more tracks before we had another listening session. We spent the day touring around New York, and Ember made sure to purchase at least one “super cute” baby item for Josh and Monica at each store we entered. I cut her off at Dior. I don’t know who he is, but babies don’t need a $175 onesie.

Do they?

She refused to buy things for our baby, saying she didn’t want to have to explain away a whole hoard of things, should anyone happen to come to our room and see everything. She acknowledged it was far-fetched, but she wasn’t taking any chances on this secret.

We picked up some sushi at a trendy “must go to” place, and brought it back to the hotel. I never understood how vegetarians like Ember enjoyed sushi places—since she was the kind of vegetarian who didn’t eat fish—but she said her California rolls worked out since pregnant women weren’t supposed to have sushi anyway.

“Today was so much fun!” Ember announced as she plunked onto the bed with her sushi and chopsticks. “Yesterday, too. It’s great recording at the house—don’t get me wrong. But, there was a hell of an energy at the studio, don’t you think?”

I nodded as I sat next to her. “There was. It really felt like we were the real thing, didn’t it?”

Ember agreed with a mouth full of California roll. “It was like … we’re …
doing it.
”

While we’d recorded and performed with The Six, I knew what she meant. We were on our own, so to speak, and part of something that was growing fast.

“I hope Regan’s band knocks out a bunch of songs today so we can all spend some time together tonight. I’ve missed him and Willow like crazy.” Ember expertly manipulated her chopsticks as we devoured the high-priced—but worth it—sushi.

She was sexy even when she ate. Her mouth was at the center of my desire for her most of the time. The way she kissed, the way she sang, talked, and even ate. Her lips were perfectly pouty enough to make me want to kiss them, without overpowering her face.

The power in her face came from those eyes. She was tired, as evidenced by the greying circles beneath them. It had been a long few days … or weeks. But their color never dulled. I’d seen her angry, sad, happy, and loving, and the fierceness in the jade color was always enough to stop me in my tracks.

“What are you looking at? Bo? Hello?” Ember waved a soy-soaked chopstick in front of my face.

“Just you. You’re incredible, you know that?” I bit my lip and returned to my avocado roll. My time with the counterculture clan had broadened my palette considerably.

Ember sighed and stared at me for a few seconds. I always felt naked when she did that, like her eyes were giving her more information about me than any of her other senses combined could do. You have to be careful about women with great eyes. They always see more than you bargained for.

“Oh,” she snapped out of her hypnotic trance on my face, “after the session today I noticed about three hundred emails from Tyler.”

She jumped out of bed and dug her phone from her bag. Though I hadn’t ever told her, I thoroughly appreciated that she never had her phone glued to her side. For as serious as she could sometimes be, at least she was always present.

“Sweet,” I murmured through my last piece of sushi. “What’s going on there?”

Ember’s eyes widened as she handed me the phone. “The wall’s down.” Her tone was excited but guarded.

“I knew the wall was coming down, Em. You don’t need to tiptoe around it. I’m just glad they did it before the snow fell.”

“That’s exactly what Tyler said. He said they wanted to get it down and closed in before the first snow. I wouldn’t have ever considered that.”

I shrugged. “Some things you’ve got to leave to the men.”

Ember’s face turned gravely serious as she snatched her phone back. “Did you just fucking say that?”

I burst into laughter. “Did you just really believe me?”

“You’re such a shit!” Ember tossed her phone on the table next to the bed and tackled me backward until I was underneath her. “Not much of a quarterback, are you?”

“That’s a sack!” I laughed as I rolled her underneath me. “Not fair! Where are my linemen?”

“Oh good,” she giggled, “I was right. The quarterback
shouldn’t
be tackled.”

I shook my head and playfully bit her lip. “You better study up on football. You’re going to parent a legacy one of these days.”

“Who says he’s going to play football?” Ember sat up on her elbows. “What if he wants to, I don’t know, play the banjo and work for Greenpeace? And, what if
he
is a
she?
”

I kissed her on the tip of her nose. “He can do both. Wouldn’t you say I’m a bit of a hybrid myself?” I ignored the thought of potentially fathering a girl. Girls terrified me.

“Only as much as I am,” she challenged.

Suddenly she took a deep breath and her face paled as she drew her eyebrows in.

“What’s wrong?” I backed up, sitting on my heels in front of her as she shifted to a seated position.

“Shit.” She threw her hand over her mouth and sped to the bathroom where, a few seconds later, it was clear what was wrong.

I walked to the threshold of the bathroom as Ember crouched on her knees in front of the toilet. “You okay?”

“Get out!” she shrieked. “I’m not a pretty puker.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ember, no one is a pr—”

“Out!” She pointed her finger toward the door as she heaved.

Walking from the room, I closed the door behind me and poured her a glass of bottled water. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for the toilet to flush, signaling her return to the room. When she came out, her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and her mascara was smudged across the apples of her cheeks.

“Here.” I patted the space next to me on the bed. “Think you can stomach some water?”

Ember took a few deep breaths as she sat down and took the glass from me. “And here I thought I’d escaped the morning sickness.”

“Ugh. I’m sorry, love.” I walked to the bathroom and wet a washcloth, handing it to her as I sat back down.

“It’s like as soon as I finished eating it, it came back up. Though trying to wrestle with you right after eating probably wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had…” Ember cautiously sipped the water and wiped under her eyes with the cool washcloth.

Within a few minutes, her color seemed to be returning. I leaned to the side and kissed her temple. “You’re looking better.”

“I think I’m done. That was a
lot
of sexy throw up,” she grumbled as she lay back on the bed.

“How does your throat feel?”

“Fine, thank God. I’d hate to burn the hell out of it before our recording session tomorrow. Way to be business minded, love.” She grinned as she draped her forearm over her face.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant.” I prepared to defend myself, when she cut in.

“I was being serious. Hey, if I happen to throw up again, like, in the studio or something, let’s go with food poisoning, okay? I can’t believe you saw me throw up. It’s so gross! Now I’m exhausted.” Ember turned so she was facing me, and nuzzled her head into my shoulder.

I kissed the top of her head, suddenly feeling tired myself. “You’re gorgeous. Always. Like our vows. In sickness and in heath, you’re stunning.”

“Mmm.” I could hear the smile on her lips. “I like it when you use the word stunning. It’s so vintage.”

“Let’s bring it back,” I whispered as we fell asleep fully clothed and on top of the blankets. Our feet dangled off the side of the bed as we slept wrapped in each other's arms.

The next morning, Ember seemed better. She was a little slow getting dressed, but once she had some water in her, she was good to go.

We had a long day ahead at the studio and were scheduled to return to New Hampshire this evening. As I shaved in the bathroom mirror, I was half-wishing we’d taken the train to the city, so neither one of us had to drive home at the end of what was sure to be an exhausting day.

Grounded Sound was up and buzzing when we arrived at their offices at nine in the morning.

“Good morning,” Brielle said through a painfully wide smile. “There is coffee and breakfast up in the conference room waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Brielle.” Ember took her badge. “I’m
starving.
”

Ember jogged up the stairs and entered the conference room a few seconds ahead of me. By the time I crossed into the room, she was sitting down with a bagel and cream cheese, and a plate full of fruit.

“What?” Regan snarked as I walked in. “You don’t feed her?”

I shook my head as I poured some coffee.

“Food poisoning,” Ember said between bites of her bagel. “Then we both passed out wicked early.”

“Ew, really?” Shaughn looked up from her lox. “From where?”

“Sushi,” I said as my nose crinkled, remembering the barf-fest in our hotel yesterday.

Chris chuckled as he set his cup down. “That explains it, then. Sushi would make me puke, too.”

Regan grimaced behind his cup of coffee. “That explains why neither of you answered when I called after our session.”

We all sat around eating our breakfast and drinking coffee as we caught up on the day before. Celtic Summer made good progress, and did record two songs yesterday, clearing the way to record the last two in front of the listeners today.

As Ember inhaled her breakfast, she updated Regan on what was going on with our house, and he seemed to be genuinely interested. I was, too. But, frankly, I just wanted the whole project to be done. Dr. Bittman, my old therapist, would have cracked the whip at that statement, which is why I hadn’t said anything to her. I knew she would tell me to “trust the process” as she always had.