Sing for Me (The Langston Brothers Duet, #2)

by Brittany Ann

“But it’s half a million dollars,” I blurted, trying to understand why he would waste that money, although, technically, he wasn’t wasting it. It was going to a good cause, one that would help people. The ones who needed it. He shot me a look that I felt in my core. “For a woman like you, that ain’t nothin’. Now come on, you have to feed me.”

I changed into an old Nickelback T-Shirt, and yoga pants. I didn’t do yoga, but damn, yoga companies made comfy pants. My hair was in a wild pile on top of my head and that’s where it would stay until I was done cooking. When I came back into the living area, Mason’s jaw tightened. I turned on some jazz for background music and offered him a drink.

“Pasta is something I love,” I told him, sprinkling flour on the countertop. “How long have you been making it?”

“A few years.”

“What else can you cook?” “Looking for a personal chef, Mr. Langston?” I asked coolly, dropping the dough onto the surface. “If it’s you, yes. Anyone else, fuck no,”

He was a wonderful sight. I liked him in my space.

“Yes?” “Thank you for letting me come over,”

My eyes grazed over Harmony’s body, from her fuzzy purple socks to her pile of wild red curls on top of her head. She was comfortable here—with me.

Harmony twisted her neck to look over her shoulder at me. “I do, but it’s not my favorite. I have to be in the mood for it,” she answered, her raspy voice causing something in my chest to ache. Fuck, that voice was intoxicating.

“So, you three are from Texas? Born and raised, I’m assuming.”

“Yeah, Billie and I met in elementary school. Cabe came in later during college. He’s from a town called Abilene.” A chuckle came from me. Fucking Abilene. “You’ve heard of it?”

Those blue eyes were going to be the...

“Abilene is a dirt town with nothing but trouble.” She smiled; it was a small one, but still, it took my breath away. “Pretty s...

“You a woman who likes trouble, Little Song?” “Only your kind of trouble, Mason,”

I was going to kiss her. I was going to slam my lips against her pretty pink ones and claim her with my mouth. I was going to devour her.

“Lucky me,” I murmured, truly meaning it. I was a lucky son of a bitch.

“You’re different here, Harmony,” I noted softly. She looked up at me while stirring the sauce and smiled. “I’m home.”

“Tell me something else,” I requested. “What do you want to know?” “Everything,”

“You’re safe with me, baby,” I assured her.

“Harm?” I called softly, concern coating my voice.

“I’m so sorry. “I—uh…,” She stopped and set the spoon down before she took a step back from the stove—from me. “Harm—” “Excuse me for just a moment. I’ll be right back,”

“Wasn’t going to rush you, baby, but I need to know,” I said gently. She knew what I was asking. I didn’t have to spell it out for her. “I’m healing,”

A woman like her shouldn’t be healing. A woman like her should have a life filled with nothing but happiness and love. A woman like her deserved to have a reason to smile every day, her only tears being happy ones. A woman like her needed the world placed at her feet. I would be the one to give it to her.

“Gonna touch you, Harmony,” I murmured before putting my hands on her shoulders.

“Tell me this, Harmony,” I whispered. “Are you afraid of me?”

Her blue found my gray, and suddenly we were lost in an unforgiving ocean of pain, fear, and trauma, our pasts demanding control. Then, like a lighthouse, shining like a beacon, she called out to me, the boat beneath us steadying at her words. “My soul trusts you.”

Her breath hitched as I brought my forehead down to hers. She held my eyes as she whispered, “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

The last two months had been my own personal brand of torture to fuel an addiction I shouldn’t have. I wasn’t worthy of a woman like her, and yet, she wanted this. She felt this, this pull between us, and damn it all to hell, whether I deserved her or not, I wanted her. Right now.

“Did I say something wrong?” “No, baby. You said everything right,”

“Then why—” “Gotta create some distance, or I’m going to take you right here.”

“Take me?” she parroted, her brows rising. “Yeah, Little Song. Take you.” Another growl. I took another step back. What the fuck was wrong with me? “Claim you, Harmony.” “Mason,”

“I’m going to go. I’ll be back on Sunday,” I informed her, turning on my heel. “But what about dinner?”

“I don’t want you to go,” she stated, her voice stronger than it had been a few minutes ago.

“Dinner is almost done. I’m sorry I freaked out and probably freaked you out, but I…”

“This has nothing to do with you, Harmony,”

“I like having you here, Mason,” she whispered. She looked back up at me, her beauty hitting me in the gut. “I liked you watching me.”

Take her. Claim her now. She wants it. “Harmony,” I warned, my upper lip curling.

“You can go, but just tell me this one thing." Anything you want, Little Song. Anything. “What?”

“Tell me I didn’t freak you out. Tell me my brokenness didn’t scare you away. Tell me—”

All I cared about was this, right here, this kiss that seemed to stop time. Harmony, my little song, kissed me back, giving herself to me. It was the greatest gift I’d ever received, and it was just a kiss. This is more than just a kiss, Mason.

“Mase, more.” Mase. She called me Mase. “Fuck, baby,”

“Harmony,” I whispered gruffly. “Yes?” “You kiss like a fucking angel,” I said, opening my eyes, only to be surrounded by blue. “You aren’t so bad yourself,”

It had been a week since that kiss. A week of daydreaming about it. A week of missing him. He came over Sunday as promised, but he didn’t touch me. He was keeping his distance, and I respected that. On the other hand, I hated it. I hated it because Mason Langston, the rebel bull rider and cowboy, was the best kiss I’d ever had. Just like the storm in his eyes, he loomed over me and rained down promises of pleasure, pleasure I’d never felt. That man knew how to kiss. That man knew where to put his hands.

During that time, Mason swiped my phone off the coffee table and put his number in. Then, he looked at me with his intense gray eyes and demanded I talk to him every day. I made him promise he would return the favor. “Already planned on it, baby,” he murmured, putting his hand on my thigh.

I miss you, gorgeous girl. Eddie wants to know your hair care routine.

“Right. So, you are here in the present. Mason is also with you in the present. You told me last week that the kiss you two shared made you ‘feel alive again.’ What did the dream make you feel? The beginning. Block out the last half and focus on the good,”

“Considering the man forked over half a million just to watch you, no. I think you should go to a show,” Billie noted. I blinked and looked at my bedroom door. “Isn’t it too soon for that? I mean, technically, we haven’t even had a date yet.”

“Harm,” she sighed. “This is your life. You don’t have to use your therapist’s advice—or mine—as justification for something you want. I can hear it in your voice, honey. You want Mason Langston.”

“If you want to go see the hot, bull riding cowboy who makes you blush and kisses you dizzy, then do it. If you don’t, then don’t. It’s that simple. You don’t need anyone’s approval to live your life the way you want to live it,”

“What if this is a fluke, Billie? What if he was just bored and—” “Babe, the top bull rider in the world stood in your apartment and told you he wanted to fuck you after you said something sweet to him. That’s not a fluke. Mason Langston is hot for you.”