Chapter 56: Rock Stars Boost Boats

Trace

I hoist the backpack and open the door to Adam's room as gently as possible, but there's no need for stealth. Adam's awake, propped up in the bed, shirtless, with a small bandage covering his right side, Mac hugged up beside him in his Johnny Cash t-shirt. They are sharing a bottle of ginger ale with a straw and eating strawberry cake with cream cheese frosting.

Without even looking at me, Adam says, "Get the fuck out, man."

Of course, I ignore him and hop up on the dresser. "Don't mind me. Carry on," I make a big deal out of observing them. I pretend I'm doing it to fuck with them, but honestly, it's hard not to look at them. They are so much in love that it draws the eye, like a beautiful painting or something.

I'm so fucking glad to see them chill right now. Adam came through emergency surgery yesterday evening just fine, but it was a damn hassle getting him out of the hospital, because somehow news of his emergency leaked out, and the place was swamped with fans and Nashville paps. We had to leave by three exits. Bodie, Kat and I went out the normal discharge exit to draw the eye. I only shoved and cursed two paps that got in Kat's face, hospital security and Ben hauling me back both times, so I counted that a successful exit.

Leed insisted on smuggling Mac out a little used employee exit, because despite her calmness with Adam, she was amped to the max while we waited for the outcome of his surgery. Even though the Doc came out after and assured her Adam was fine and would be ready to be wheeled out and tucked up in bed at home within the hour, the last thing she needed was to get trapped in a press of fans, all laying their hands on her. She, Leed and John breezed out unnoticed, thankfully.

They wheeled Adam out through a service entrance, with his family, Dawes, two of our security guys and some hospital security with him, but it didn't go as smoothly as it could have. Unfortunately, Brett, with her goldy blond hair and pretty looks, got mistaken for Mac by some fans. She got jostled pretty hard. Thank god her brother-in-law Luke stuck with her, shouting at security for help, because when they finally forced a perimeter and got her to the truck, she'd lost some jewelry to grasping hands and had a nasty, raw scratch down her arm where someone's ring had grazed her.

It was a sobering moment for Adam's family—realizing how difficult our life as celebrities can be sometimes. Brett and her dad made light of it for Adam's sake. After we got him hustled to bed back at the Farm, there were some tense words between Dawes and Brett's husband, and of course, Mac felt terrible. After making sure Adam was out for the night, and profuse apologies to Brett, she did that thing she does.

She disappeared.

Leed, Bodie, John and I had an unhappy fifteen minutes looking for her, but Leed finally found her out in the barn. She lost it, crying in Leed's arms for a couple of hours. Adam slept, blissfully unaware of Mac's meltdown. By the time he woke up this morning, she was cheerful and calm.

Adam's been up walking around today, both Mac and his mom babying the hell out of him. Dude's loving that shit. Spent most of the day layed out on the couch, eating steak sandwiches, while the rest of us sweated our asses off this morning picking blueberries. Although he did miss out on the kick-ass lake day this afternoon.

Which is kind of sad...considering his birthday present he doesn't know about.

The rest of us had a blast, taking out the several small boats that make up the Heartley fleet—a pontoon, a ski boat, and a pair of personal watercraft. Leed and Bodie spent most of their day giving the Heartley kids the rides of their lives, racing around on the Sea-Doo's, jumping other boat's wake and spinning 360's. Scared the shrap out of their parents, but the kids loved it.

Kat and I had spent some time wakeboarding, but we spent most of the day chillin' with beer in hand in the front of the ski boat, checking each other out, and flirting and touching and fantasizing about the night we'll have together.

Although I already know for sure, we aren't going back to that damn hayloft for sex tonight—no fucking way.

A roll in the hay sounds romantic...but hay is itchy as shit. After our little loft session yesterday afternoon, I was a red, whelpy, scratchy, runny-eye mess. Kat laughed her ass off and said I must be allergic to hay.

Maybe so, because after romping and rolling on a blanket scattered with the stuff, I had itchy red whelps in places you do not want to have itchy red whelps.

A fluke-ton of Benadryl was required last night to get me straight, but that was alright, because I slept great. Even though I had to bunk with Riley, and he talks in his sleep. Which is good to know...if I ever need to spy on the spymaster.

But tonight, I will not be bunking with Riley. Tonight, I have a different plan. Which I can only enact from Adam's room. Which is why I am here.

"Trace, you're freaking me out, grinning at us like a creeper. Fucking go!" Mac laughs.

"Calm down. You heard the doc, Adam can't resume normal activities for 3-5 days. So you're not missing out on anything by me hanging with you guys," I grin. I cock my head and cross my arms. "Wait, are you guys even having sex anymore, with a baby on board? That's kind of...awkward." I shudder, chills wracking my spine.

Adam laughs at me. "Dude, one day you'll grow the hell up and know what I know...how fucking amazing it is for the woman you love to be growing your baby...but you can't handle the truth right now, man."

"Whatever, man. Honestly, I don't wanna know anything about pregnancy sex," I tease. But I watch as he grips Mac's hip, rolling her slightly toward him so he can kiss her chastely, and I notice how his hand slides over her belly as he releases her, and her smile...that sweet one I hardly ever see.

I know then and there, whatever bullshit Soundcrush is about to go through with altering our European tour...we have to wade through it. Madam is now the heart of Soundcrush, and sometimes you have to go with the heart, and not the head.

Mac looks over at me with her killer face, sees me still grinning at them like a twelve year old watching porn, then nestles her head on Adam's shoulder. "Trace, get out or I will make you get out."

"What are you gonna do, Macaroni?" I sneer. "Even preggo, you're a buck ten, soaking wet. You think you can force me out?"

Mac springs up to straddle Adam on her knees. He "oofs" a bit and grabs her hips, keeping her weight off him. "Mac," he warns, but she whips off her shirt before he can stop her.

"Whoa!" I cry covering my eyes as Adam yells, "Fuck!" and smushes her to his chest with a groan.

"I'm going, I'm going," I mutter as I stumble toward the windows on the far side of the room, and Adam grumbles. "Christ, Shorty, you are gonna kill me. You're laying on my incision."

"Jesus, people, I'm wearing a bra," Mac giggles as she slides off Adam and pulls the covers up towards her chest. "Not like you haven't seen me in a bikini, or even stage clothes that reveal as much."

"Totally different now," I protest, still turned the other way. "Your Adam's baby-momma now. Your hotness is so off limits. Bro-code."

"Trace, we are gonna have to have a talk about this bro-code of yours," Mac warns.

"Nah. We don't talk to our women about the bro-code," Adam says. "That's part of the code. Dude, why the fuck are you climbing out my window?"

I grin. "Because I can walk out on the porch roof and climb down the trellis and—bam—I'm right outside the downstairs guest room window. Can't get down the damn hall past your parent's room...it squeaks."

"Are you, like, fifteen?" Adam asks.

"When it comes to Kat, I will always be fifteen and desperate to get up next to her. Speaking of desperate, I'm still not convinced you didn't fake this appendicitis shit so your mom would allow Mac up here to nurse you."

They laugh, and I wink, sliding out onto the roof. Two minutes later, I'm tapping on Kat's window. The devilish look on her face as she throws up the sash floods me. So many times we slipped out to perpetrate mischief. So many years of it innocent. The last few times I snuck away with her on a night like this—the summer after my freshman year of college, the summer she was almost fifteen...all I wanted was to touch her damp, bare skin, breathe in her sweet, evening scent, and feel her mouth against mine for the first time. I waited out the summer, but I couldn't hold out forever. It was only six months later that I was stealing a first kiss from her, screaming at myself on the inside to stop there.

Now I don't have to steal a kiss. Now I don't have to stop. Now she's all mine, and I know, before the night is out, she'll give her body to me, and I'll turn right back around and give her the pleasure that's still so new to her. And in the exchange, our souls will touch. Making love with Kat is still so new and mind-blowing to me—it's my favorite past-time.

She's looking me up and down, approving of my tight grey t-shirt, cargo shorts and boat shoes. "Hey Beautiful. Wanna come get in some trouble with me?"

She braces her forearms against the window sill and leans out against her elbows, taunting me with her pretty tan cleavage bulging in the bright white tank top. I can see her nipples hardening beneath my appreciative gaze. "Depends. What do you have in mind?"

"Oh, thought we would commit grand larceny. You in?"

She grins and hold her hands out so I can pull her through the window. When she's in my arms, she says. "On one condition."

"What's that?" I ask, sliding my hands up the back of her tank top and pressing her boobs against my chest.

"Promise me we won't get caught. At least not until after we fool around."

I rock her back and forth, letting my hands explore her spine, up to her delicate shoulder blades, and down to the small of her back. This freedom to touch my KitKat like this...it's rare and precious to me. I know I look like a horny douche to Adam's family, pawing her constantly, but I miss her so much. I have spent a sum total of six days with her since we took our relationship to the next level, and this weekend, I want every precious second I get with her.

Hands on, because I've had enough Facetime.

"Mmmmm...I promise to satisfy you thoroughly before I let anyone take us to jail."

"Ooooh, if we get cornered by the cops are we going out like Bonnie and Clyde?" she giggles.

"Naw, I'm not tryna get shot. I was gonna do a fake hostage thing," I explain.

"Oh, where you pretend I'm your hostage but really we're just buying to time to fuck our brains out?"

I squeeze her ass, "Now, ya feeling me, KitKat. You'll have to give it up before I give you up."

"Sounds like a perfect plan to me," she smirks. "Lead me to the larceny."

I pull my phone out to use as a flashlight. It's a long walk down to the lakeshore without using one of the Gators, but it's just more fun, sneaking away with Kat on foot. We stumble over tree roots and she giggles breathlessly on the fifteen minute trek. When we get to the shore, Kat steps up onto the gangplank of the family dock.

"Uh-huh," I say, pointing to the other side of the cove, to another dock. "That one."

I point to the brand new forty-foot boat that Adam still doesn't know about. The Heartley's house is situated in a way that you can't see the two docks from the main house—either the old dock that houses all the Heartley's communal boats, or the new dock around the curve of the cove...a dock that technically belongs to Peter Heartley, since it sits on his land, at least for right now.

But that's land that will be Adam's one day. All these Heartley kids get a parcel as a wedding gift. When Mac started all this birthday boat business and asked me to talk to Peter about keeping a large cabin cruiser here at the farm for Adam, he told me that there was no way his own dock could accommodate such a large boat, and b) about the family tradition of parceling the land to his children. It only made sense to install the dock on Adam's future parcel.

I helped Mac work out all the dock installation stuff over the last month, but it was hardly any effort. I just called up Mike Rawlins. His family business is building and installing docks on this large recreational lake. I told him about the boat Mac wanted to gift Adam, and I told him he had a blank check to build a dock to house it—that Leed, Bodie and I were chipping in. He hooked Adam up nice. It's a real party dock—the large boat being housed underneath, and a second level that serves as a deck for sunbathing and entertaining. There is a built-in bar, shower, and grill, lots of comfortable deck furniture and umbrellas, even a slide...the kids have been having a blast on that.

We all used the dock today, and toured the boat, and since then, I've had this idea to take it for a little test drive tonight. Adam won't mind. He shares well. Everything except Mac.

We hoof it around the shoreline of the cove to Adam's some-day property. Kat lets me pull her down the long gangplank, but she stops on the dock at the point where we enter the back of the boat.

"Trace!" Kat whispers. "You can't boost Adam's boat!"

"Watch me." I step on the swim platform of the boat, opening the back gate for her gesturing her into the open air cockpit, where the boat is operated. Of course, there's a cabin down below about the size of a RV space—with a galley and head and a king sized sleeping berth, plus a bow sleeping birth. This boat is basically a tour bus for the water. It's awesome. I want one. Just don't know where I'd put it, if I had one.

Kat stands on the dock, her hands on her hips. "Trace, this is wrong! It's his birthday present!"

I reach out and pull her into the boat. "Where's my HellKat that used to steal jams of the month with me from the neighbors?"

"This isn't jam! This is a three hundred thousand dollar water craft!" she hisses.

"If I break Adam's toy, I'll buy him a bigger one. C'mon, baby... nothing's gonna happen. I know how to handle a damn boat." It's true. My summer job all through high school was working at one of the local marinas on Lake Lanier north of Atlanta. Mostly I worked on the gas docks or helping boaters put their boats in the water. I picked up a thing or two.

"Are you sure? The weekend has been kind of a mess. It would be bad to make it any worse," Kat pouts as she rubs her hands up my pecs.

"Mac said we could take it out," I tell her, because apparently my girl has grown a conscious. Technically, it's not a lie. I'm pretty sure Mac would have said yes.

If I had asked.

That's all Kat needed to hear. Her grin grows wide, her white teeth bright in the dark. She's up for adventure, just not for upsetting Mac.

I give Kat a little tutorial on being my first mate. I show her how to unhook the lines that hold the boat in place on the starboard side, and I let her repeat it on port side while I fire up the engine. I wait for Kat to climb back down from tall bow of the boat into the sheltered cockpit before I ease the boat out into the dark water. She comes to stand beside me at the captain's chair.

"First mate has to get drinks, too," I tease her. "In my backpack."

She pulls out the chilled bottle of Cristal. "You're my favorite boat-booster," she hums happily.

"I try," I murmur as I watch her concentrate on the foil wrapper, bending slightly and tucking it against her diaphragm, her shiny curtain of hair falls forward as she works. Kat is so...fuck, beautiful is not the word. She is that, too, but it's more to me. Every movement, every smile, every smell, every molecule...

She's home. Katheryn Ballard is the home I have never had.

I notice that Kat has gotten adept at opening champagne bottles because she quickly has us two plastic cups poured. I draw her to lean between my legs as I sit in the tall captain's chair and guide us out into the wide channel. This is a big lake—you can ride for hours and not reach the south end, but I have a specific destination, thanks to Google maps. After a half hour of matching the satellite view against the moonlit shoreline, I ease us into the completely private cove I had found on the GPS. I show Kat how to drop anchor, and we tumble back onto the sunbathing pad on the large bow, awash in moonlight and champagne.

Kat leans back on her elbows, admiring the stars. She's a long-legged goddess in cut offs. I sit with my arms cradling my knees, sipping champagne, talking to her, and lusting.

I love this girl so much, I can't ever decide what I like best about being with her. Hearing her share her most serious thoughts, or causing her to laugh, or making her scream my name in pleasure.

It's all good.

We talk about Mac and Adam and their baby. We talk about the tour. We talk about Kat's philanthropy project. We talk about the del Marco's. We talk a lot about Row, who'll be coming out to start opening at the next show, and about Street. Kat says he is like Marianne, but with a little del Marco. "Marianne is a shelter. Matt is magic. Street is like...a cave, veined with del Marco ore."

"That's pretty talk. Enough to make me a little jealous," I warn.

She rolls up on her side. "You don't have to be jealous, Trace. Especially not of your brother, but not of anyone. I can't imagine anyone else but you. There is so much between us. So much history. So much connection. So much..." her eyes drop shyly, "so much passion."

I stroke the back of my hand down the side of her face and throat. "Sometimes I worry. You are..." I want to say so inexperienced, because she is, but I don't want her to think I view that as a bad thing. "Kat...I've never felt anything like this. With anyone. When I'm near you, when I touch you, when I make love with you. I know how rare what we have is. I know how much it means to me, because I searched the world, and I never found anything that could move you from my heart. I know I belong with you."

Her eyes are filled with happiness, but also earnest understanding. "And you worry that I'm going to want all those experiences, too. That I'll want other guys."

I close my eyes. I can count on my hands the number of times we've had actual intercourse, and it's all been beautiful. So fucking tender that I'm actually having a little bit of a hard time moving from the sweet, very intense, very vanilla kind of love-making. I hardly want her any way but underneath me, so I can see her face, watch her every response to my movements, make sure she's getting what she needs every second. Maybe I'm being selfish, because I'm not doing much to let her explore her sexuality. I keep telling myself we have time, so much time. But what if she gets bored with my tenderness?

"I never want you to miss out on anything, Kat. I love you too much."

She stiffens, and sits up. "Wait. Are you breaking up with me?"

I sit up and grab her arms. "What!?!?! Hell no! Fuck no!!!"

She relaxes, but there's a tiny look of hurt in her eyes. "So are you saying you want me to...sleep with other guys so I have something to compare us to?"

The idea makes my gut churn...makes me physically sick. "To be honest, Kat...I...I...can't fucking stand the thought. Right now in the moment, I could puke, just thinking about you with someone else."

She smiles, her teeth shining at me in the dark. "So what's the problem here?"

"It's not a problem, exactly. I just worry. You know how you joked with Matt about me keeping you in a pumpkinshell? I guess that's kind of true. There's a part of me that wants to stake a claim on you. The douchey part that loves the idea that you are mine and only mine. And there's a part of me that knows you are eighteen, and you deserve all the life experiences you can get. What if I'm all you ever know, and one day at twenty-one, or twenty-five, you look back and you feel like...that was a mistake? Waiting for me? Only having the experience of being with me?"

She puts her arms around me. "I know enough, Trace. You're forgetting, I was pretty liberal with making out with guys, when I was younger. And Colin and I...even though we didn't get all the way there...we came pretty close. Lots. I had so many opportunities to have sex with a lot of different guys. I chose not to. I waited for you, because after that New Year's Eve kiss...I knew what you know now. That none of them came anywhere close. So I'm the one that is wise and savvy in this situation. You had to go rack up a body count to come to the same conclusion," she teases me.

"Huh." I relax into her embrace. Kat is wise and savvy—mature beyond her years. She amazes me in so many ways. I guess part of loving her is respecting that she knows what she wants. What kind of idiot would I be, to not believe her, if she says she wants me and only me?

"You might have a point there."

"Of course I do. I've always been smarter than you."

"Okay, Kitty, but just let me say this. If you ever...if you ever feel the need to explore...I'm not just talking about sex, but I'm talking about...yourself, your limits, your hopes and dreams, your relationships...I don't want to be the guy that makes you hold back. I'm out here livin' my dream, and yes, part of my dream is being with you...being exclusive with you, knowing that you're mine in the same way. But I want you to make your dreams come to true, too. I hope to god I'll always be a part of them, but if there are parts of your dream that you don't think I'll like—just like I didn't' like you going to WITCH Campus at first—don't ever hold back from what you want, okay? Just tell me what you want to do, and I'll learn to see things your way. I love you. I don't want to...stunt your growth, you know? I feel like...if you feel free to be yourself, maybe you won't ever look back with regret."

"What are you saying, Trace? That you think we are gonna go the distance?" she searches my face.

I have to be honest with her. "Kat...I know you're looking at Mac and Adam and wondering if we'll be where they are in a few years. Say what you need to say, baby."

Kat can't look at me now. She's staring across the cove. "I know it's crazy to ask you this...considering we've only been together a couple of months, but...considering everything you've been through...I wonder sometimes...if maybe..."

I know where she's going. I know exactly where she's going. "If I'm against having kids?"

She nods, still unable to look at me.

I don't answer right away. We watch a boat go by in the main channel, it's wake bleeding into our cove. I prop my arms on my knees and watch the gentle swells of the water rippled beneath the moonlight, listen to soothing lap along the lakeshore.

"If you'd asked me that two years ago, the answer would have been a resounding "Hell no, I'll never have kids." I would have said, I would never risk fucking up a kid. But that's because, I felt broken myself. Since I found out about Matt being my father...since I've watched him and Marianne with their kids...I don't know, Kat. They make it look...pretty good. So I guess my answer is no longer "hell no" and more like "I'm not sure." I do know this for sure...I don't want to do shit ass-backwards...all accidental baby-mama-drama.

"I'm not judging Adam and Mac. Not at all. They chose this. They could have taken that Plan B, and they didn't. They took the leap, consciously. It's like they needed it—like they needed their love to be urgent, to take the next step. And if anyone can make it work, it's probably them. But then I think about how young they are...how young we all are...they are basically the same age as my parents were. Ross and Gina. I hope to god Adam and Mac will still want this five, ten years from now. I know how...people change. So...I know for sure...I can't do what they are doing. Not with you. We are too important to me to rush. I want to do us right. You and I...we both have to be sure of who we are and what we want out of life, before I could even think about a step like that."

Kat presses her forehead against my chest, right beneath my collarbone. "That's a very honest and fair answer, and I love you all the more for it."

"I love you too, Kitty. Like I you wouldn't believe." I put her hand on my heart, and cover it with mine.

We lie in silence, our heads close together.

"What am I?" I get a wicked grin.

"What?"

"If Street's a cave with del Marco metal running through him...what am I?"

She takes my hand and stretches it toward the streak of stars above. "You're like the galaxy. Larger than life. So full of mystery and peril. But the only sky I've ever known. The only magic I can sleep beneath."

I tell her she's a songwriter. Or maybe a poetess.

She tackles me, spilling champagne everywhere. I surrender easily, giving what she wants to take but eventually she ends up beneath me.

It takes me a good long while to talk Kat out of her clothes on top of this boat, but the night is warm and the cove is private, and eventually her passion overwhelms her inhibitions. It's something new...a wild adventure that I make come alive for us.

Every time I make love to Kat, I think it's perfection. But this—the moon bathing our love, the stars offering their promise of forever, the sultry night air swallowing our cries of passion—Christ, it's fucking perfect.

I swear I think it always will be.

Awwww, I just love these two! Thought on their lake mischief? Do you think Trace will come to regret is words to Kat--that she should feel free to explore herself and her limits?