CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Leighton
“I’m so excited!” Blaze literally bounces in the seat next to me as I navigate Holden’s truck through traffic. Normally I hate driving it, but tonight I’ll make an exception.
“Me too,” I mumble as I try to jockey for position in the VIP entrance line.
Holden and Tank surprised us two days ago with tickets to a Brantley Gilbert concert. Both of us had been under the impression it was sold out, but the guys had been tapped to work, and had gotten free tickets for their service.
“This guy’s going to let you over,” Blaze waved back at the person behind them, flashing them a smile and the horns.
“Thank you!” I yell through the window, appreciating someone not being a douchebag.
The person directing traffic at this portion of the parking lot sees the pass Holden hung on his mirror before he and Tank left, and motioned me to another line, that was less crowded. “Holy shit,” I sigh. “This is worse than driving in rush hour in Birmingham.”
“People wanna see the man,” Blaze takes a drink of her water, winking. “I mean who doesn’t wanna see the man?”
“He is pretty hot,” I agree, but then my gaze recognizes someone standing a few feet away from us, checking ID’s and waving cars through. “But fuck if my husband isn’t a little hotter when he’s dressed in uniform.”
Holden and Tank stand with another man, waiting for what looks to be a large tour bus go through. Tank must say something funny because Holden and the other guy laugh. And it’s the laugh of Holden’s that I love. He throws his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
“They are pretty hot, aren’t they?” Blaze whistles through her teeth as she gazes at our guys.
Hot doesn’t even begin to describe it. My perusal starts at the bottom of his booted feet, past the black cargo pants that hug his legs just right. He folds his arms over his chest, which pulls his shirt up slightly at the waist. I want that shirt to rise up further, to see the ridges of his abdomen, the lean muscle of his torso, but the bulletproof vest he wears with Security on it stops the upward climb of the material. Sunglasses cover his eyes and a hat turned backwards on his head, makes him look like the twenty-something bad boy he probably was at that time in his life. He brings his hand up to his chin, rubbing at his beard, as he turns to his left, seeing us. The moment he sees us, his smile spreads across his face, he hitches his chin at Tank, pointing towards us, and begins a loose-legged swagger-filled strut over to his truck.
“Hey babe,” he steps onto the running board and leans in my rolled-down window, giving me a chaste kiss. “Y’all got here just in time. Saved a spot for you.”
His freckles are brighter than normal, thanks to the sun he’s been in for most of the afternoon. My gaze follows where he’s pointing, I look back at him, disbelief on my face. “I can’t park this truck there, you know I can barely park it in a fucking field – in between two equally big trucks – you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
The smile widens. “You want me to do it for you?”
Putting it in park, I motion for him to jump down so I can open the door. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I turn so that my legs swing over the edge. Holden, being who he is, takes advantage and steps in between them, taking a moment to cup my neck in his hands pulling me so our lips touch. Compared to the rest of the kisses we’ve shared, this one is on the chaste side. Tapping my thigh, he grabs me around the waist, and sets me down on the ground. I watch as he hitches himself up into the driver’s seat and shuts the door. He says something to Blaze that makes her laugh, and then pulls into the damn parking spot like a glove. Sometimes he’s so good at everything, it pisses me off.
Tank come to stand beside me, as we watch our significant others get out of the truck. “We’ll be done about thirty minutes into the show, so we’ll get to come watch the rest of it with y’all.”
“That’ll be fun for you two,” I give him a grin. “I mean watching us drool over a celebrity.”
“Y’all were drooling pretty hard when you were looking at us earlier, so I’m not worried.”
He’s got me there. As Blaze hops down and comes around the tailgate, Tank gets his first good look at her.
“Coleman,” he calls to her, his voice a bit deeper than it was when he was talking to me. “Those shorts don’t pass inspection,” he sticks his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “I think I can see the curve of your ass.”
“I don’t remember asking your permission for what to wear, Trumbolt,” she fires back at him.
Holden slings his arms around my neck, pulling me close as we watch the two of them.
“Y’all see what I deal with? This smart mouth she’s got on her.”
She plasters herself against his chest, throwing her arms around his neck. “You love this mouth and everything it does for you and to you.”
I smirk. “Especially when it tends to break furniture.”
Tank’s face immediately turns blood red while Holden laughs. “Do I even want to know?”
“No,” Blaze shakes her head. “You don’t want to know, I’d rather not go through that again.”
“Don’t deny you didn’t have fun.”
“Oh I did, until I almost knocked myself out.”
They continue playfully arguing back and forth, giving me the opportunity to take a minute with my husband. “You gonna be able to come watch the concert with us when you get done here?” I verify, excited to share this experience with him.
“Yeah, be careful until we get there. You ladies drinking?
“Since we’re not driving, I know I’ll at least have a drink or two, figure Blaze will do the same,” I lean in, giving him a soft kiss on the neck.
“I gotta get back to work, but I’ll catch up with you later,” he taps me on the ass, and yells at Tank. They walk with us until we get to their post, and then let us go.
* * *
“Why does beer always taste better at concerts?” Blaze takes a large gup of hers.
“Because it costs like ten bucks a pop?”
We’re quiet for a few minutes as we wait for the roadies to change the stage over.
“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” I take another sip of mine, before I sit it in the cup holder, and place my hair in a topknot. It’s hot as hell, and I have no doubt that as soon as the man takes the stage it’ll be even hotter.
“No way, thanks for coming with me. Whitney will be sorry she missed this,” Blaze does the same with her hair.
I glance down at myself, wearing a Brantley tank top, and then over at Blaze who wears one that reads Bottoms Up. “Whitney may be a little refined for this,” I giggle.
“Unless it’s Bama football, she’s a southern lady all the way,” she agrees. “You and Holden seem to be getting along well.”
“We finally did the deed,” I blurt out, face on fire.
“Yes girl! How was it?”
I’ve never had this kind of relationship with anyone, but I find myself wanting to tell her. “So good, I never knew it could be like that.”
“There’s something to be said for these guys and their stamina,” Blaze gives me a high-five.
Before we discuss any further, the house lights drop and he takes the stage.
“We’re so close!” Blaze screams to be heard.
And she’s right, we’re so close, you can reach out and touch him. Our men take really good care of us. “Let’s take a selfie,” I yell back at her.
She understands what I’m saying, turns us and positions her phone so that he’s in the picture with us. “I’m tagging Whitney in this, so she knows what the hell she’s missing.”
I giggle, singing along to the words of the song. We scream and yell, dance, and finish our beers. Four songs in, I feel strong arms wrap around my waist, and I lean back into the chest of my husband. His mouth finds a spot on my neck, kissing and nipping at the tendons. “Thanks for exposing that neck for me,” he growls in my ear.
“My pleasure,” I turn around in his arms, giving him a hug, before I turn back around.
I missed him today, and while I’m happy to be at the concert, I’m also happy to be with him. My phone is in my hands, to record my favorite parts and to get the pics I plan to put on my social media later. Holding the phone out, I turn the camera around. Holden and I don’t have many pics together, and I’m not going to waste an opportunity.
“Smile for me.” He gives me a wide one, showing off the dimples I hardly ever get to see.
As I look at the picture I’ve captured, I realize this is going to be my favorite one ever.
“We got any good girls here who like bad boys?” The man on stage asks.
Blaze and I scream so loud I’m pretty sure we’ve busted out our own eardrums. The crowd participation is insane until he launches into the next song.
Holden leans into my body, surprising the hell out of me as he sings, clearly and beautifully into my ear. I turn around, my mouth hanging open. “You can sing?”
The words are spoken louder than I mean for them to and Tank hears me.
“Wait, you don’t know who you’re related to by marriage now?” He shoots Holden a look.
“I keep it quiet,” Holden answers. “And we haven’t had a family reunion yet. They’re so busy we have them every two years. I was going to explain before we went,” he looks down at me. “My cousin, is Garrett Thompson.”
The name rings a bell, but I can’t place it. “Why should I know that name?”
Blaze looks intrigued as she watches us. “Yeah, who is that?”
“He’s a rocker married to a country music star. They’re both very popular.”
Blaze squeals beside me. “Oh my God! It’s Reaper!”
It’s then that it dawns on me. I’m related to Reaper from Black Friday, oh my God. “I always thought you two looked alike,” I grab hold of his shirt, putting my hands up under the material.
“We do have some of the same features,” he admits. “But I keep it quiet, mostly for his safety. You’ll definitely get an introduction. I promise.”
“I can’t wait,” I grab hold of his arms, pulling them around my body. “But if anybody had to ask me who my favorite Thompson is? That’s always gonna be you hot stuff, always you.”
Using the hands I’ve pulled around my body, he cups my tits for a brief moment while the lights are low. “Those words, Leigh, will get you the orgasm of your life in the next few hours.”
There’s a smirk on my face as I lean back. “I’ll hold you to that, hot stuff.”
And when I get to actually touch the singer on stage? All of it combines into one of the best nights of my life.