Moving from me, he goes to the guitar sitting in its new stand and crouches down.
I go over and kneel beside him.
“It was a little worn,” I explain. “It’d been in the garage at Mum and Dad’s, cased up, but the damp gets in, you know, so I had Dad get it reconditioned and put brand-new strings on. Then he shipped it over to me, and then…” I bite my lip nervously. “Well, I had a little artwork done on it.” I point to the Mighty Storm’s band logo on the face. “I hope that was okay.”
Jake runs his finger over the emblem. “It’s more than okay.” His voice sounds choked with emotion.
Hearing him sound this way sends goose bumps racing over my skin.
“I had a little something else added.” Carefully, I lift the guitar from the stand. Resting it over Jake’s knees, I turn it over to show him the artwork on the back.
~ Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning ~
Jake & Tru
August 31st, 1989
July 21st, 2012
“The first date is—”
“The date you moved next door to me,” he finishes. “The second, the day we reconnected at the interview.” He meets my eyes, and the intensity in his gaze marks me, branding me with the love I know he feels for me.
“I thought we could mark each memorable date we have on it. The next one I thought could be the day the baby’s born.” I run my fingers over my stomach. “Then our wedding day.”
Jake looks down at the guitar and runs the tip of his index finger over the engraving.
“The quote is from Aleph by Paulo Coelo.” I indicate the worn copy on my bedside cabinet. “He wrote The Alchemist. Do you remember when we read it in school for English?”
“I do,” he says, nodding. “We worked on the assignment together, and I got an A, thanks to you.” He winks, then turns the guitar right side up and starts strumming.
“DRs?” he asks in reference to the strings.
“You know my dad, he likes the best.”
“They’re all I use,” he says, eyes down on the guitar, as he strums the chords from the Rolling Stones’ “Honky Tonk Woman.” “Your dad was my musical influence, Tru. I listened to everything he said and took it in, because he knows his shit.”
“He misses playing. He loves teaching, but he loves being in the thick of it more. He loved being at the concert with you in Spain that day. It’s all he’s gone on about since.”
“My best childhood memories consist of you, this guitar, and your dad…” His thoughts trail, and he starts to hum the lyrics, then stops. “Do you think he might be interested, when I do finally tour again, in coming with us?”
My face lights up as my heart gets all warm and fuzzy. “I think he would love that. My mum, not so much!” I laugh. “But you would make my dad’s year if you asked him.” I reach out and touch his arm.
His eyes smile. “I’ll talk to him at Christmas about it.” He puts the guitar back in its stand, and then, resting down on his knees, he pulls me into his lap so I’m straddling him and wraps his arms around my waist. “Thank you for the guitar. It’s the best gift I have ever received.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“I’m glad.” I smile. “Happy birthday, baby.” I kiss the corner of his mouth.
“I love you.” He shifts his face, capturing my lips with his, and kisses me. “So fuckin’ much.”
“I love you too,” I whisper, running my fingers into his hair. “So I was thinking…when we’re in bed later, after you’ve had your dirty way with me, you could play me some of the old songs you used to play on it.”
A wicked grin spreads over his lips, making him look even more edible. “You know I was totally trying to seduce you with some of those songs I played when we were teenagers.”
I start laughing. “You were trying to seduce me with ‘Honky Tonk Woman’?”
“Maybe not that one.” He runs his fingers down my spine. I shiver under his touch. “But definitely ‘Touch Me.’”
I laugh again. “And I thought you were just crushing on Jim Morrison.”
“Only you, baby. Only ever you.” His face goes serious. “You know, back then, this was how I dreamed my life would be, what I have right now with you. Marrying you. Growing old with you. When we parted”—he lifts his shoulders—“I figured that dream was gone forever…I’m so glad I got a second chance at this.”
“Me too.” I lift my hand and brush the length of his eyebrow with my fingertip, then the bridge of his nose. His eyes close on a soft sigh. I lean forward just a little and kiss his lips gently. “Time for birthday present number two.”
Jake’s eyes flick open. “I get another present?”
“Of course, silly.” I rise to stand and go over to my dressing table, retrieving the gift box. I walk over to the bed, where he’s now sitting, waiting for me.
I sit on the bed beside him, facing him. “This is from me and the baby.” I hand the small box to him.
Taking it from me, Jake pulls the blue ribbon off the box and lifts the lid. He lifts the box sitting inside and cracks it open.
He smiles. “You bought me a Rolex.”
“We bought you a Rolex,” I say, tilting my head to my tummy. “It’s vintage, nineteen eighty-five. Since I was going for memorabilia, I thought I would get something from the year you were born.”
“I love it.”
“Do you really?”
“Yes, really.” He gives me an encouraging look before he leans in, bending his head down to my stomach. “Thank you,” he says to the baby and presses a kiss there.
Touched by his sentiment, feeling like I might burst into tears any second, I add levity to the situation. “Hey, don’t be giving the baby all the credit. I was the one hauling ass around the shops to find it.” I grin.
“She doesn’t mean it,” he says to my stomach in all seriousness. “I know it was all your idea.”