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

by Brittany Ann

He was the first ray of sunlight that peaked through the clouds after a storm. He was a beautiful chord in a song that sent goosebumps across my skin. He was every note in the music I’d been writing for the last two months.

“I want to know you. I want to know the passions and secrets behind those mesmerizing blue eyes. I want to know everything that makes you smile. I brought you tulips because I saw how happy they made you at the Farmer’s Market. I stood in the shadows and watched your beautiful face somehow become even more stunning as you smiled. My eyes want to see that smile every fucking chance I can get. I want to know what makes you laugh; I want to drown in the sound of it. Hell, baby, I want to be the reason,”

“I want to know the name of the mother fucker who hurt my little song, who made her afraid to sing.”

“This is also, eventually, me getting down on one knee and putting my ring on your finger. This would be us starting a family, because I do want children, always have. If you don’t, I’ll learn how to deal, because that’s how much I fucking want you. That’s how much I want this, Harmony. You weren’t a part of my plan, but I have been thanking the heavens above every single day for hearing your cry for help.”

“Look at me, baby. Won’t tell you again. We’re having a serious conversation, and I want those eyes on me,” he ordered.

“You’re free with me. You just gotta trust me,” Mason promised. “My sweet girl called me, something in her voice told me something was wrong, and I came. Didn’t think anything of it. Just needed to get to you.”

“This is what you do to me, Harmony Green. Fucking beautiful. Too damn beautiful, and the kicker is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how beautiful you are. What a treasure you are, with your red curls, blue eyes, a smile that could blind a sorry motherfucker, curves that make a man like me believe in God, and the voice of an angel. You being in those stands tonight—for me and only me—not as a fucking fan, buckle bunny, or a person who wants me to fail, damn near killed me. You sitting there in this dress, supporting me, because you care about me…this is what that does to me. I can’t fucking think about anything but you,” he growled.

I was going to kill him. My hands would be tainted with his blood as I gave her the life she deserved.

“You are anything but normal, Harmony Green,” he whispered. “You are a gift to me.”

“When you call me that, I feel safe.” When you call me baby, I feel desired and beautiful. When you call me Little Song, I feel loved.

“Harmony, you are family now. You probably didn’t expect or ask for it, but you got it. I protect my family, I stand by my family, and I love my family. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”