Saturday morning came with a rare show of rain against the windows. Ricki was stretched out diagonally across the bed. For someone who gave him shit about needing a king-sized bed, she sure took advantage of the space.

Then again, he didn’t mind waking to her wound around him. He’d gotten up to take a piss and a shower before she took over his bathroom. Instead of noticing he’d left her, she did a sprawl. The fact that she rested a little more easily with her shoulder gave him hope.

He’d push for physical therapy after they got through the service for Randy. It was going to be a long emotional day. Hell, the last few days had been a maelstrom of shit. From the meeting with Donovan and his new security detail headed by Aidan Roth, to the equally frustrating meeting with the police, they’d both been wrung out.

The fact that Donovan didn’t want them to give many details to the cops left him restless and pissy. He didn’t trust a cop as far as he could throw one, but Donovan was playing things close to the vest as usual. The fucker was more secretive than a damn spy in a Bond movie.

All of it left him twitchy as hell.

He knew Ricki had picked up on it too, but she chose to go into her positive, chipper mode instead of his default—asshole. The girls were all over her via text and phone calls, but she’d proposed a night in, just the two of them. So they’d binge watched the Die Hard movies while eating Chinese food and some weird concoction called White Trash. Normally, he wasn’t much into sweets, but he’d helped her eat the whole fucking bowl of it.

The fact that he’d used her chest as a plate for the white chocolate and salty treat had made it a little extra palatable. Which was why he needed an extra long shower that morning. Once he started macking on her exceptional breasts, he’d ended up fucking her into the damn headboard.

Both of them had wanted to extend the night as long as possible. Anything so they didn’t have to deal with the emotional showdown that would be Randy’s service. He only hoped they could keep the press away from the small get-together. It had been a couple weeks, so the vultures had moved onto the next entertainment carcass. It was Los Angeles, so there was a never-ending supply.

He perched on the edge of the bed then followed a rich, chocolate-colored curl down between her shoulder blades to where the gray sheets pooled at the curve of her delectable ass and lower back. He was getting used to the dark hair, but he secretly hoped she’d go back to blond sometime soon. He leaned down and kissed her exposed skin. “Up and at ‘em, lazy.”

She moaned, pressing her face between two of the pillows at the head of the bed.

Mal tugged the sheet down and smacked one naked cheek. “Into the shower with you.”

“Fuck off.”

He leaned down and bit the same cheek and she squealed. He was tempted to peel her open and fuck her awake, but they didn’t have enough time.

She kicked out with a frustrated grunt, then dragged the sheet over her head. “No.”

“Yes.” He stood and whipped off the sheet.

She dragged a pillow up and over her chest. “Hey!”

“Nothing I haven’t seen, Ricki. Get your ass in the shower. We have to leave in an hour.”

“Hour?” She pushed her hair out of her face. “Do I look like I take an hour to get ready?”

“Today you will. Go on.” He nodded to the dry cleaning bag hanging off his armoire.

Her grouchy snarl dissolved as her big blue eyes grew damp.

“Hey.” He crawled across the bed, his towel falling away as he climbed behind her. He sucked at the tears thing, but they were probably going to be in abundance today—evidently, he’d be getting a crack at them early. Instead of trying to hide it, she turned and wrapped herself around him. She buried her face in his neck and the tears multiplied.

Helpless to the tornado of emotions, he just held on to her. By the time she was done, she’d gone from hiccuping sobs to soft sighs. She pulled back with a sniff. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

She cupped his face. “I know you hate this stuff, but thanks for letting me get it out before the memorial. I’m sure there will be more, but at least I got most of it out now. I just know as soon as I see Jules, I’m going to fucking lose it.”

“I’m pretty sure there won’t be a dry eye in there once people see Juliet.”

She used the backs of her hands to dash away a few more rolling tears. “Yeah. I just wish she hadn’t completely shut me out. I mean, I get it, but God, I hate that we’re so divided. That I allowed us to stay so divided. We started texting again a little, but it’s still so awkward.”

“You needed to figure your shit out too. Don’t forget that.”

“Not like her.”

He slid his fingers into her hair. “Yes, you did. You got hurt and you still have to work on that. I know you’re going to play again. You’re not a quitter. In fact, you’ve worked harder than any of us in some respects. You had to start over twice.”

She frowned at him. “No, I didn’t.”

“You had to get clean to join the band. And now you have to begin again.”

“It was just one slip,” she whispered.

“Not that.” He rested his hand on her right shoulder. “Here. You have been babying this—I get it,” he said before she could interrupt. “It’s only been a few weeks, but you’ve been letting that fear hold you back. I know you’re going to be back to playing on that stage in no time because I believe in you.”

Tears spilled out of her eyes again.

“Shit. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

She threw her arms around his shoulders. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“You keep this up, I’ll have to rethink that Oscar the Grouch tattoo I was going to buy for you for Christmas.”

“Fuck off.”

A giggle filled the loft area of his apartment. “Only you would get offended by me calling you sweet.”

He lifted her off his lap and set her on the bed. “Up. Crying time is over.”

She rolled off the bed. “All right. You’re still sweet though.”

“Take it back.”

“Nope. Sorry, the secret is out.”

“You tell anyone and I’ll take you over my knee.”

Her eyes flashed. “Promise?”

“Go get in the goddamn shower.”

“I’m going.” Ricki hurried to the bathroom. Before she disappeared, she peeked her head out. “Mal?”

He turned to her.

“Thanks.”

A lump grew in his throat. Instead of answering, he just nodded and took her tremulous smile like a punch. He strode over to his dry cleaning bag. He hadn’t worn a suit since his mother’s last wedding, but today called for it. There was rejecting societal norms and there was respect. Today was for respect.

By the time he slid his suit jacket on, Ricki was blow-drying her hair.

They’d picked up all her girl shit on one of their trips out for meetings and food and now his damn bathroom smelled of her lush plum bodywash. He wasn’t sure how and when he’d started missing it combined with the peppermint scent, but he did.

Getting fucking soft on a woman. Jesus.

She came out in her towel, fluffing her hair in some chick fashion. Her face was nearly makeup free, just a bit of lipstick and something that made her huge eyes seem even larger and more fragile.

Fuck.

He knew she wasn’t fragile—these past weeks had proven it over and over again even if she didn’t think so. It didn’t stop him from wanting to shield her from the pain that would be coming at her today.

She did some head bow and twist with her left arm and flipped her hair back. Then stopped. “Whoa.”

He stepped toward her. “What?”

“You own a suit?” She hiked her towel up and tightened the tuck between her breasts before walking a circle around him. “I’m not sure what to say.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, then winced and dropped his arms to his sides. He’d been hitting the weight bench and his kit too much lately. The shoulders barely fit him.

She walked her fingers up his arm. “You look like one of those hot bodyguards who got stuffed in a suit. Kinda hot.”

He felt the heat crawl up his neck enough that he had to fight the urge to tug his collar away.

She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for wearing a suit today.”

He slid his arm around her waist. It was getting more and more natural to do it. He lowered his mouth to hers and gave her a brief kiss. “I didn’t wear it for you.”

“I know. I’ll take the benefits though.” She grabbed his butt before sliding away to pull on her underthings.

He paced the length of his bedroom, but when she bent over to pull on her stockings, he knew he needed to get out of there. He couldn’t watch her girl-up. He already had to stuff down a truckload of guilt with the semi popping up with all those long limbs on display.

“Five minutes,” he said on a growl.

She threw a look over her shoulder. “You said I had an hour.”

“That was forty minutes ago.”

“Creative math?”

He headed for the stairs. More like he was going to toss her over his shoulder and take her out of the city if he had to keep thinking about where they were going. “Five minutes.”

“I’ll be ready.”

He grabbed his wallet and jangled his keys in his hand as he paced in front of the window. The rain had let up already. Shocker. California didn’t get much rain to speak of, but it seemed even the heavens were shedding a few tears for Randy.

After shoving his keys and his wallet in his pocket, Mal laced his fingers behind his head and arched his back to throw off some of the tension sitting on his shoulders. Facing these people would be rough for her, but he couldn’t say he was excited at the prospect. He wasn’t a religious man, but he had to hope Randy went to a better place. And that he was watching out for Tristan and Jules. Not to mention the little one on the way.

Juliet hadn’t owned up to her pregnancy yet, even if the whole band knew it. But that kid was going to be loved.

And he’d make sure to watch out for him or her, like he hadn’t been able to for the baby’s old man. He still wouldn’t have done things differently, just wished it hadn’t come to that. There had been no one except Ricki in his mind when the world had literally started falling around their ears.

The heat and sparks of electricity had showered them like some insane light show, but it had been smoke and death waiting for them instead of applause.

“Malachi?”

He jerked at his name.

“I’ve been calling your name.”

He wiped his hand down his face. “Sorry.” He shoved his hand into his pocket and came out with his keys fisted between his fingers.

She crossed to him and closed her cool hands over his. “There was nothing you could have done.”

His nostrils flared. “You don’t know that.”

He tried to step away from her, but she strengthened her hold. “We haven’t been to see anyone yet. We both have been avoiding the pain of today. Of seeing everyone.” Tears starred her lashes.

He hooked his other arm around her neck and dragged her into his chest. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded into his chest. “I know.” She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek into his shoulder. “I know.”

He held her like that for another minute before he hustled her outside. The drive was a quiet one. Both of them were too keyed-up for conversation, thank fuck. He concentrated on the winding roads that led to the pretty clearing. The sun broke out over the lush greenery and flowers bursting around the large patio.

A line of cars was already there. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t this. There was sun and light and open spaces. Nothing dark and somber beyond the crowd of people wearing dark colors.

He braced himself for the paparazzi sure to be there, but found no one save for two people hanging on the outskirts. And each of the reporters had a Roth Defense security buddy beside them.

Mal had to hand it to Donovan, the man knew how to control an event.

Ricki reached back for his hand as they came up to the arbor leading to the main congregation of people. He recognized a few people from the crew and who had to be their families, other musicians they’d toured with over the years, as well as family members.

A few were dressed like restaurant staff. Some seemed to be taking care of the people mogging around, and others seemed to be there for Tristan Eves. Being a chef for one of the premier hotels in Los Angeles, he had a lot of people in his life as well.

Amazingly, it was mostly contained without a lot of fanfare.

As they moved deeper into the crowd of people, he finally heard familiar voices. Children played out on the grass. He recognized Jazz and Margo from Oblivion. Jazz had her head tipped against Margo’s shoulder as she clutched her hand.

Margo belonged to Juliet. The ripples from Randy’s death were far and wide and this gathering was an in-your-face reminder of that. He’d touched so many, belonged to so many.

“You’re here.” Lauren and West rushed forward. “I swear, you guys are trying to give us heart palpitations.” Lauren glanced down at their linked hands and Ricki dropped his hand.

Mal shoved it into his pocket as if he had been burned. Were they supposed to be hiding shit?

Lauren curled her arms around Ricki, then pulled back. “Oh, your shoulder. Sorry.”

Ricki waved it off. “I’m fine. Just sore.” She wouldn’t meet Lo’s eyes. She turned to West and hugged him. “We’re on time, aren’t we?”

West patted her back. “People started arriving almost two hours early. Luckily, Donovan seemed to be ready for that turn of events. He had people here and ready for it. Did you see the two Rottweilers on the door?”

Ricki frowned. “No.”

Mal nodded. “Yeah. Good way to keep the press at bay. I recognized one of the reporters.”

“You did?” Ricki looked up at him.

He shrugged. “Watch enough television on the bus, you start knowing faces whether you want to or not.”

She gave a small, “huh,” but then was enveloped in the chaos that was their band. Ricki became Elle in a moment’s switch. She was handed off to each person in the band. Luc and Molly enveloped her in a warm hug, while Ethan leaned down for a more sedate kiss on the cheek.

Ryan and Denver crowded in and there was nothing but voices and tears as each of the women seemed to explode into waterworks when they got a look at the other.

Mal stepped back with each successive intrusion until he was on the outskirts as usual. It was where he liked to be—at least he used to.

A hand came down on his shoulder. “Hey, brother.”

Mal turned to Mike and grunted when he was dragged in for a hug. He gave his brother an awkward pat. “Where’s Chloe and the monkeys?”

Michael nodded toward the clearing. “We left Hope with a sitter. Axl is out with the other kids. Jazz seems to be the ringleader for all the children today so Chloe went to see if she could help.”

They stood shoulder to shoulder, both of them watching the kids outside.

“Elle, huh?”

Mal swallowed down the boulder in his throat and clenched his fist. She’d dropped his damn hand like a hot rock, but yeah, she was his. He didn’t care who knew. “She’s mine.”

“Yours?” Mike’s eyebrows shot up.

He nodded. “I know it’s not ideal and people might give her shit about it, but she’s mine.”

“Why would they?” Mike turned to him.

Mal lifted his chin and stared his brother right in the eye. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“You know you’re part of us—part of this—whether you want it or not, right?” Michael swirled his fingers to encompass the space. “You might try to keep us at arm’s length, but you’re part of this band. Part of our unit. Fucking family.” His voice was low and gritty so it didn’t carry.

Mal swallowed, but nodded. “I want that. I do. Fucking snuck up on me, but I do.”

“Finally.” Mike nudged his arm. “Always takes a girl.” He nodded to Ricki who stood with Denver, Lo, and Molly in a familiar cluster. “They make us better, and Elle is one of the good ones. I’m glad you let her in.”

“I didn’t let her do anything.”

Mike laughed. “Yeah, they have a habit of taking over. You get used to it.”

“Not likely.”

The tone of the room changed and a hum went through the people gathered around. A male voice lifted over the din. “If you could please convene outside, we’d appreciate it.”

Donovan Lewis. His voice conveyed power and culture with that faint hint of a British accent running through it. And people fucking moved when he spoke. A lot of power in those three-piece suits.

Ricki hugged the girls and squeezed hands before coming back to him. “Hey.” She linked her arm through his. “Sorry about that, I needed to answer a few questions.”

Mal nodded to Mike as he moved off to find Chloe and the older kids. “It’s fine.”

She tugged his hand out of his pocket. “I’m sorry I left you alone.” She laced her fingers with his. And the rock that had been sitting on his chest lessened a little. Her eyes were shining and her pulse was fluttering at her neck. “So many people, I can’t quit it with the waterworks.” She dashed at her eyes with her other hand.

He reached into the small inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a black bandana. “I brought this.”

Her eyes filled again. “Oh, you did not.” She took it from him and threw her arms around his waist.

Mal went stone still as she buried her face in his chest. “It’s just a bandana.”

“You thought to bring it. For me.”

“It’s not a damn diamond,” he muttered.

She peered up at him. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” He huffed out a breath. “Let’s get out there before we’re standing in the back.”

“Right. I want to be with the band. Is that okay?”

“More than okay.” He slid his hand down her back to urge her forward. He reached in his pocket for his sunglasses as they moved onto the patio. Huge baskets of flowers overwhelmed the corners. Not funeral flowers though. Somehow that fit. Tristan and Juliet wanted a celebration, not a heavy and somber affair.

He and Ricki moved through the crowd to stand beside Mike and Chloe. Molly and the girls clustered around Ricki as West and Ryan flanked the end with Luc and Ethan. A huge fucking family in the midst of all the chaos and sadness. Mike was right, they were more of a unit here than they’d ever been.

He fucking hated that it was because Randy was gone.

Hated that it took this to get him to see that. To even want to see that.

There was a large picture of Randy, Tristan, and Jules next to a small podium. Their commitment ceremony photo with smiles and sunshine around them. Then there were a bunch of photos tacked on a huge board. Backstage photos, laughter, other weddings and band moments. All of them focused on Randy and his quiet happiness.

Music floated out from the side of the patio. Nick, Deacon, Gray, and Simon sat in a half circle of chairs, playing an instrumental song on acoustic guitars. One Mal had never heard before.

Ricki swayed against him and pressed her face into his chest for a moment. He curled his arm around her shoulder and dragged her in tighter.

Juliet and Tristan went up to the podium as a unit. Juliet’s gaze crashed with Mal’s. She looked between him and Ricki and gave him a soft smile. Not the full wattage he was used to from the crazy Jules, but a quiet one that made him swallow hard.

Tristan came forward as the music stopped. “Thank you all for coming.” He nodded toward the guys from Oblivion. “That was beautiful. Thank you so much for doing that for Randy.” His eyes brimmed with tears, and one tracked down his face. “He’d have been honored. I know we are.”

Juliet nodded and swiped at her nose. “I told myself I wasn’t going to bawl through this. Randy wouldn’t want that.” She pressed her hand to Tristan’s chest as she leaned on him.

Tristan smiled down at her. “No, Randy didn’t like tears. He’d actually do just about anything to make sure Jules didn’t cry. That’s why we wanted today to be more about celebrating him and his legacy.”

Juliet smoothed a hand down her still flat belly. “He does have a legacy. One that we’ll be sharing with you in about six months.” Her eyes filled. “I did get the chance to tell him he was going to be a dad. They were going to be dads.” She tipped her head back. “The one time he was good with the tears. And he was so happy. I know he would have made the very best co-dad with this guy.” She hugged Tristan. “And while I hate—so much hate—that he’s not going to be here to see our little girl or little boy grow up, I know this kid is going to be amazing because he or she is part Randy. All the people in this pretty place are proof that he was so very loved.”

She sniffed and fanned her face. “And so we decided to do this outside so he can hear us. Hear the music and the laughter of the kids. Because there’s no one else on this planet who deserved heaven more than Randy Pruitt.”

There was laughter and a few sobs in the crowd around them. Mal swiped away a tear that escaped as Ricki soaked his good white dress shirt.

Deacon caught Harper against his chest as she cried. He led her up to stand with Jules and Tristan. A moment later, Simon and Margo went up to flank Jules.

Mike had informed him the families had done their own funeral already, so this was mostly for friends and the close-knit group of people behind the scenes who made the tours work. The people that were part of Randy’s extended family especially since he’d been a roadie since his teen years.

Juliet held out her hand to Harper and drew her close. “We wanted to make sure today was full of happy memories and a few laughs in with the tears. I miss that man—we miss that man—more than words could ever express. Thank you for coming to be with us.” She stepped back into the crowd of people on the podium.

As quickly as it had begun, this portion of the service was over. But the talking with people was not.

The problem with having so many people in the fucking band was this chaos was part of his life now. And while every part of him wanted to escape to the edges, he held fast as the voices and conversation grew. As people banded around Ricki.

Her laughter and her tears made him want to fold her up and take her away from all this, but he knew she needed it. Needed her people. Needed to know she was still loved and part of them.

The next hour was brutal. Ricki was in her element with people coming to talk to her, though she kept watching the other side of the room where Jules was. She hadn’t been over to see them, but then again, she couldn’t get two steps away with all the people who wanted to talk to her.

Finally, as he and Ricki were sipping on bottled waters at the edge of the crazy crush of people, Juliet came around behind them.

“Hey.”

Ricki’s hand trembled in his.

Jules looked down at their linked hands. Mal braced for Ricki to release him, but she didn’t. Her eyes went back to the waterworks treatment though.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” Ricki looked down at her feet. “I know you didn’t want me to be, but I’m still sorry.”

“It’s been hard.” Juliet glanced up at him. “Really hard to face this. And I’m still not all the way there. I wish I could say I was.”

Ricki nodded. “I understand.”

“But I want you better. We need you. The band needs you.” Jules patted her middle. “This little one will need everyone.”

Ricki swallowed and dashed away her tears. “Of course.”

“So you get better, okay?” Juliet reached for Ricki’s hand and squeezed. There was no hug though. He knew Ricki needed it, but knew just as well that Jules wasn’t ready.

And he didn’t blame her.

Jules glanced up at him. “I’m glad she has you.” She sniffed and backed up. “I have to…”

“It’s fine. Go. I understand.” Ricki’s grip made him bite back a smile. Her right hand was squeezing the circulation out of his hand. He’d take it. Because it was the first time she’d actually used it without favoring it or pulling it away.

Juliet turned away, but then stopped. “I’m happy for you guys. Everyone deserves someone.” Then she was gone, swallowed into the crowd of people there for her and Tristan, the baby, and the man whose presence was so quietly huge that a shit-ton of people were here to prove it to her.

He turned to Ricki. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m gonna be.”

That was all he could ask.

All any of them could ask. “Wanna get out of here?”

She nodded. Mal gestured to Mike that they were leaving and he followed her along the sidewalk to the arbor at the front of the outdoor venue. She curled her fingers around his. “If it’s okay…I need to go do something.”

“Alone?”

She nodded. “If that’s okay.”

“You do what you need to do.”

“I won’t be too long, I promise.”

“Do you want to take my car?” He swallowed, then held up the keys.

“Did that hurt to ask?”

“A little.”

She laughed. “No, Donovan said he had a few cars here to take people home. I’ll use one.”

“You sure you’re all right to go out alone?”

She hooked her fingers into the belt loop at the front of his pants. “I’m not going to go on a bender.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

Her hand cupped his jaw. “But I love that you worry about me. I just need to do something for me. To put a little of this behind me.” She went onto her toes. “Behind us.”

He dragged in a quick breath as she kissed him. People were all around, and she’d touched him voluntarily. Kissed him as if it didn’t matter if anyone saw. He closed his eyes and lengthened the kiss a little before stepping away.

She smiled up at him then lifted her hand to his mouth and rubbed at his lower lip. “You’re wearing me.”

“Proudly.”

Her eyes brightened and another sheen of tears welled up. “Sweet talker.”

He only grunted and she laughed. “I’ll see you at home.” She stepped back and hurried down the walkway. He hated watching her walk away from him, but he didn’t follow.

He needed a little less people himself. And without Ricki in the car, he could open it up and drive for awhile.

Just what he needed.