Free Play Softly (The Devil's Share Book 4) by L.P. Maxa Page A

cover of the Rolling Stone .”
    I couldn’t help but laugh as he dipped me down and placed a scorching kiss on my lips. “You boys are something else.”
    With her hands over her ears, Bryan came walking down the stairs wearing a Bob Dylan concert shirt and some white skinny jeans, her long hair down and wild. “They done?” When I nodded she took her hands away. “I woke up humming that song.”
    Luke shook his head. “You girls just don’t appreciate the classics.”
    Dylan came in and went straight to Smith’s side. “Oh yes we do. We’ve just been listening to you four sing that song for two days now.” She looked amazing too; wearing a loose-fitting plaid shirt, with the sleeves rolled up over some distressed jeans. Seemed like we’d all gone for rock-and-roll casual.
    Landry came in and Jacks helped her hop up on the counter. “Uncle Luke taught me to play it on the drums.”
    Jacks reached over and high-fived Luke, laughing. “Nice.”
    Dash went into the living room and grabbed Halen from her little bassinet. “They should be here any minute. Is there anything anyone wants to say? Maybe anything you guys want strictly off limits or not mentioned? Anyone do anything wicked lately?”
    The group all just kind of looked around at each other and the air. Trying to remember if anyone had any dirty little secrets.
    Smith shrugged. “I got nothing, man.”
    Jacks let out a quick breath. “Yeah, me neither. The only wicked things I do these day are with B and—”
    Bryan elbowed him in the stomach to make him shut up. All eyes turned to Luke. And he rolled his. “Really? No. I’m good.”
    I clapped him on the back, hard. “Other than letting small children watch movies full of foul language and dead bodies, you mean?”

    The Rolling Stone photographer took about a million pictures. He shot Dash, Halen, and I in our bed, standing in the kitchen, and out in the backyard. He did Jacks, Bryan, and Landry in her girly little room and then did a bunch of her on the drums. He finished up with the band down in the studio, taking shots of them goofing around. In reality, I probably could have given them tons of really great pictures to use of the band and of all of us as a family. Goodness knows I had a whole computer full. And we’d discussed it. But for some reason none of us were willing to share those pictures, willing to share those special moments. At some point, the pictures I took of the band had turned from work into a family photo album. And they were sacred.
    Dash and I were sitting on the couch in the living room, side by side, with a sleeping Halen on Dash’s shoulder. The person interviewing us was on the other side of the ottoman sitting in a chair we brought in from the kitchen.
    He turned his tape recorder on and placed it down in front of him, then took out a pen and paper as well. “In this day and age, it’s hard to keep anything a secret. How did you manage to keep Halen’s birth quiet for what…five weeks now?”
    “Five weeks and six days,” Dash corrected.
    The reporter chuckled. “But who’s counting, right?”
    Dash raised his hand. “I am.”
    I took his hand and lowered it then clasped our fingers together. “To be honest, we just got lucky. Not many people here in Seaside cared who we were. Most people are just here for vacation and to relax with their families. And as far as the hospital in Destin, they never really had a chance to leak anything to the press. Halen came early, I hadn’t even registered there yet.”
    The reporter leaned forward. “So the baby was born prematurely?”
    “Yes, she was born about four weeks early.” Dash looked down at our daughter as he spoke. “But she is healthy and strong and didn’t have to spend any time in the NICU.”
    “Lexi, I can’t help but notice the beautiful ring on your finger. Is there a Devil’s Share wedding in the near future?”
    We’d decided we might as well get it all out there at once, so I’d worn my