Hammers & Heartstrings (The Riley Siblings #3)

4. Noah

Chapter Four

NOAH

“ G oddamnit.”

The word is a little muffled, a lot grumbled, followed by a loud thud and a lot more swearing.

“Aggie?” I grin as I head down the hall at Inked in Sin, nodding at Tripp when I pass his room.

I’ve been coming here since Aggie got hired and she’s done 95% of my ink, so they’re used to me being around and walking behind the counter like another employee. “Kitten, are you...” oh shit .

Oh, good god .

My jaw drops as I stop dead in my tracks, barely noticing Tank when he comes up and bumps my hand with his gigantic head. I hardly notice anything except Aggie’s almost bare ass that’s sticking out from under her desk, tiny hints of lace resting high on the perfect curve of those glorious butt cheeks.

Aggs has always had a great ass, a beautiful body in general, but the last time I was lucky enough to see any of it, shit, my kitten did not look like this .

Not that it’s a total surprise, those Riley genes are fucking gold, all three of the kids have only gotten better looking with age and hell, Linda is a fox despite being in her sixties. Clearly Aggie was blessed by the gods of ass cheeks though, because hers are firm and round, a couple of solid handfuls each and they are staring back at me, begging for a little attention.

“Motherfucker,” she grunts as her skirt rides higher on her hips, obviously searching for something under her desk that I quite frankly hope she never finds. “Son of a—ah ha!” Then she cranks her head again, cusses a blue streak and backs that ass toward me on her hands and knees.

Well, hello there libido, so nice of you to make an appearance after all these years.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been completely celibate since before Clover was born by choice because it’s been an important part of my recovery, but being a dad is hard as hell too, and while I’ve tried to do that to the best of my abilities, my sex drive took a bit of a nosedive at some point along the way. It’s made things a lot easier for all the reasons, but right now? Right now my dick is basically jumping up and down waving a white flag because he loves Aggie as much as I do and definitely remembers what it felt like to be buried inside her all those years ago.

Hands down, Agatha was the best sex I’ve ever had, even as kids. She was wild and insatiable, a total animal in the sack and her pussy—my god that sweet little slice of heaven deserves accolades and awards for being tight as hell and absolutely delicious.

Another first—and only—for me and Aggs?

Fucking bareback.

She went on the pill when we were in middle school because Linda Riley is one of the smartest women to ever live, and that’s why we never used any other protection. It’s also why I’ve never been with anyone else raw. No one compares to Agatha in any way, including that way.

To be honest, after a few years of therapy, I realized that’s the whole reason I haven’t ever committed to anyone, haven’t been serious about anyone or had more than one-night stands. Aggie is it for me and she has been almost my entire life.

And that’s why I have to make her see that.

I smirk and lean against the door frame. “Find what you were looking for?”

My kitten jumps, spins away from the desk and renders me fucking speechless.

And not just because her skirt is still up over those wide hips, flashing me a great shot of the lace standing between me and where I belong.

No, it’s because Aggie looks beautiful .

Again, she’s always been beautiful, a total knockout, my wildest fantasies come to life, but right now, Jesus, she looks incredible.

Those dark honey blonde dreads are wrapped into a low knot at the nape of her neck, the new growth showing some of her natural curl in little wisps around her ears and temples. Those gun metal grey eyes look even more intense than usual, the smoky purple shadow making them pop through her trademark cat eyeglasses.

Aggie’s cheeks are flushed, her freckles a little more noticeable, the flecks of gold casting a warm glow across her face. Her fucking gorgeous face that looks even more so with that deep plum color painting her perfect Cupid’s bow lips.

And good fucking grief, her body is even more banging than I’ve always thought.

I swear to God her tits are bigger. I mean, I guess it could be an illusion created by the plunging neckline of her dress, that sharp V that starts at the strap sitting just above her collarbone and wraps around her throat. The dress is strapless save for that strap, the material slinky and black, a second skin that absolutely means Aggie is braless.

Yeah, her tits might be bigger .

My kitten looks fucking good enough to eat, but I have to keep it cool. Can’t go around popping wood like I did in high school every time she was within range, doubt it would work in my favor right now.

“Earring.” Aggie sighs as she holds up the offending piece of jewelry. “It got caught in my hair, flung across the room and I’ve been... what?”

My grin widens.

What, indeed.

Obviously, my kitten has no idea she’s practically naked from the waist down and as much as that makes me laugh because it’s so Aggie—and makes me horny as fuck because, well, it’s Aggie—that’s not why I’m grinning.

My girl has more ink than I thought.

Her right thigh has the same tattoo each of her brothers has—their family crest along with their da’s birth and death dates and an Irish saying in Gaelic about loved ones lost. Aggie designed it and did all three and while it’s her biggest tattoo she has, it is no longer one of few.

There are lots of tiny tattoos dotting her skin, ones about the size of the arrow behind her ear and at some point, I’ll take time to appreciate them all—preferably with my lips and tongue—but as for now, it just makes me curious about what other little secrets my kitten is keeping.

Another time.

“Is your dress supposed to be worn like that or...” I lift a brow, wait for her to notice her wardrobe malfunction and when those stormy eyes drop to her body, fuck me, she’s wearing heels.

Sexy as fuck heels that have to be at least four inches tall, spiked, a sexy little strap around her ankles with a pointed toe. Aggie has legs for days—she’s almost five-eleven—and those heels make her legs look even longer and more toned than they usually do.

“Oh my god,” Aggie gasps and quickly straightens out her dress. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

I shrug then pray to God she doesn’t notice my chub. “Thought maybe you were starting a trend.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you know me. Super fashionable in my everyday mourning attire .”

“You look amazing, kitten.”

“Yeah?” Another tug on her dress. “Not underdressed for a promo party?”

“Not at all. You’re a knockout, Aggs. Total babe material.”

She blushes and gives me a small smile. “Thanks, Thor.” Then Aggie smirks. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

I bow with a grin.

Thank fuck for that.

I’ve never been more nervous while getting dressed in my entire life and when I settled on my favorite beat to hell jeans, biker boots and vintage In Justice for All T under my leather jacket, I was seconds from a total meltdown. Knowing that Aggie thinks I look okay makes a world of difference, especially since I pretty much dressed the way I always do except for the jacket and boots. Both of which Aggie has always appreciated on me.

“So, how do you want to do this?”

She sighs as she zips up her duffel bag. “All my shit is in the back of my jeep so it’s up to you. We can either leave my car here and get it on the way home, or I can follow you home now and we can go to the party from there. Your call, Thor.”

Home .

She called my house home .

Fuck, that does something to me.

Something I’ll analyze more thoroughly later when I’m lying awake in bed with a raging boner and a racing mind because Aggie is living with me and called my house home .

What a sap .

I clear my throat. “We can come back for it.” Then what she said clicks. “You packed all your shit in your car already?”

She nods as she attaches Tank’s short handle leash to his vest harness. “The room was already furnished so I didn’t have much to pack.”

Code for I’ve gotten used to drifting because I won’t ask anyone for help when I need it so my material possessions have been whittled down to essentials only . Sometimes it drives me nuts how stubborn this woman is.

“How much is not much ?” Knowing Aggie, she threw everything she could into trash bags and called it good.

She shrugs. “Two suitcases full of books and photos and shit. My portfolios. Dog bed. Box of art shit.” Aggie adjusts Tank’s collar. “And a bunch of trash bags.”

Called it.

“What’s going to need to go into the house when we get there?”

“Just that.” Aggie points to her duffel that’s now over my shoulder. “My backpack and Tank’s stuff.”

“Will the Jeep be okay here overnight?”

“Yes...”

“And you’ve got everything you need for tomorrow?”

“Yes...” She arches a brow. “What are you getting at, Thor?”

“Maybe we should just leave the Jeep here tonight and pick it up when I take you to breakfast in the morning.” Not like a date or anything, just a guy who’s in love with a girl taking her to get food as a small thank you for never giving up on him no matter how hard he made things at times.

Stupid? Probably but I don’t care. I want the little things, the normal things just as badly as I want everything else with Aggie and if I’m going to make her see that, then stupid is just another way to do it. “Besides, I know how hard it is for you to drive when you’re tired and this fucking party is bound to go late.”

“Or...” My kitten pauses for dramatic effect. “You could just take me to work tomorrow after I make breakfast for you and Clover because I know how well you cook. Then I can drive home after my shift and neither of us have to make any extra or unnecessary trips.”

My smile is probably a little crazed but I don’t care about that either. “You’ll make us breakfast?”

“Yep.” Aggie locks up her tattoo room as we head out, Tank happily trotting between us. “I was thinking French toast.”

“With the cinnamon and powdered sugar?”

“Uh huh.”

I groan because fuck, Aggie is a phenomenal cook. “And the Irish butter?”

“Mmhmm. I even have some of that blueberry maple syrup.”

I frown. “In your bag?”

“Yep.” She pops the P then waves to Tripp as we walk out onto the sidewalk. “That shit is like gold, I wasn’t about to leave it for MC.”

“Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite human?”

Aggie smiles up at me as I put her stuff in my Escalade then load Tank in the back. “Only a few times a day for the last twenty-eight years, give or take.”

At least I’m doing that right.

By the time we get to the party, it’s in full swing. Dozens and dozens of cars line the two-mile drive at the mansion Grady booked, fountains and immaculate landscaping dirtied by hundreds of scantily clad women—some already topless—a cloud of weed and cigarette smoke billowing through the strobe lights. The music is blaring out of the house, loud enough to make the windows on my car shake, and it’s with even clearer eyes that I see this isn’t the life I want anymore. It isn’t even the life I wanted years ago when I didn’t have two pennies to rub together.

This is the toxic bullshit I’m trying to separate myself from and if it wasn’t my last album, I’d turn around right now and bolt.

“We won’t stay any longer than we have to,” I say more to myself than Aggie as I hand over my keys to the valet. “Go in, say hi to the bigwigs, pose for a few pictures, then take off.”

Her hand slips into mine, giving it a reassuring and supportive squeeze before she twines our fingers and fuck, if that doesn’t make all the difference. “You’ve got this, Noah. You’re doing amazing with your recovery, and your focus is better than ever. You can do this.”

If Aggie says so, then it must be true.

At least having her here with me helps me believe that.

“And if anyone tries to fuck with you, I’ll just let Tank off his leash.”

I grin as I press a kiss to her temple. “That pooch was the best”—and only—“gift I’ve ever given you.”

Despite being a total train wreck at the time and not actually talking to Aggs, after she got jumped, I went online and found Tank at a local shelter. He was a puppy then, a Pitbull Rottweiler mix that was rescued from a dog fighting ring and after a very extensive inquiry into everything I could find about Pitweilers, I adopted him in her name, ordered everything he’d ever need, paid for all his shots and vet visits through the first two years and had Tank delivered to Aggie’s then apartment. Delivered with a note that simply said A pup for my kitten and he’s been her loyal protector ever since.

And he loves me and Clover just as much as he loves Aggie, which is great because that dog is a total hardass. Tank is like the pooch version of Vin and Jax.

We weave our way up the front steps and into the house, the scene inside no different from the front lawn save for the other artists from our label. A sprinkling of A and B list celebrities, all of which are well on their way to being fucked up.

I tighten my hold on Aggie’s hand as we pass the bar, the glossy wood littered with trays of shots and champagne, platters of pills and blow and God knows what else. I’m not tempted in the least, well past any urge to indulge, but it makes me uncomfortable as hell and sick to my stomach. I don’t want this life anymore and I need to hurry the fuck up and make sure everyone knows it.

“I’ve got you, Noah.” Aggie squeezes my hand again. “I’m here, I’ve got you, and you’ve got this.”

I nod and grit my teeth when my eyes land on Grady and my band.

Kyle is shirtless, as usual, kicked back on a couch with a girl on each knee, two more on either side of them. His hand is up the skirt of one girl while the exposed nipple of the other is in his mouth, the fucker basically getting to third base in the middle of the party as usual. Tucker, our bassist, has a chick pinned to the wall behind them, his tongue down her throat, hands also up her skirt, and I’m pretty sure she’s got her hands down his pants too. Craig, Bleak December’s drummer, is actively doing lines of coke off the naked tits of three groupies, a fourth standing behind him with her hands obviously down his pants going to town on his Johnson that’s nearly falling out of his jeans.

And Grady, that skeezy fuck, is just watching, lurking in the shadows waiting for the first girl who gets rejected by my bandmates to stumble toward him so he can pounce. Until his glassy stare clashes with the fire in my eyes.

“Noah!” he says with a sloppy grin. “So glad you made it!” Grady extends his hand for me to shake but drops it when I don’t let go of Aggie. “Wasn’t sure if you could get the night off from your crotch goblin.”

My blood boils at that.

None of these bastards were remotely interested let alone supportive when I told them about Clover, when I explained I was going to have to take time off and focus on her. They’ve never even met my peanut and to be honest, I’d like to keep it that way.

“And who do we have here?” Grady turns his gaze to Aggie, my kitten looking pretty different from the last time he saw her. “Grady Jorgensen.” He attempts a suave grin and holds his hand out to her next.

But she doesn’t take it either.

Aggie tenses briefly, her blunt nails biting into the back of my hand, and I’m not the only one who senses it.

Tank growls deep and low, then puts himself between us and my douche bag manager. His hackles are raised, razor sharp teeth exposed in a sneer and once again, I thank god I was levelheaded enough at one point to bring this pooch into our life.

“Aggie?” Kyle blurts as he dumps the groupies off his lap, gets to his feet, and staggers toward us. “Holy shit, Aggie Riley ?”

“Kyle.” She nods and relaxes a smidge but doesn’t let go of me or Tank. “Nice to see you again. Kind of.”

His eyes scan her head to toe and when they linger on her tits, I’m as close to committing murder as I’ve ever been.

I can’t say it enough. Aggie is drop dead gorgeous and while I was bringing her around in the early days, all three of my bandmates wanted a shot at her but—except for Grady—Kyle has always been the most persistent. I’ve knocked him out over my kitten more times than I can count, something she never needs to know about.

“Damn girl, you look good.”

Aggie rolls her eyes. “You’d think a frontman would have better lines than that.”

Kyle smiles wide, his gold tooth catching the light. He decided to get it to replace the original one I punched out of his mouth the last time he looked at Aggie the way he is now.

“Still feisty as ever, I see.”

Another eye roll.

My kitten has never liked any of the guys in the band, not since we were in high school, anyway. Before we hit it big, they were halfway decent dudes and really fucking talented, but Aggie tolerated them at best and always said I was the brain behind the band. She said I didn’t need any of them with my voice and guitar because eventually they’d only drag me down. Something she was right about even when we were seventeen.

“Aggie?” Grady blinks, then squints. “Jesus. The years have been kind to you for sure. You seeing anyone?”

She opens her mouth to respond, but I beat her to it.

“Yeah, asshole, she’s seeing me .”

Aggie’s head snaps in my direction, Kyle’s eyes go wide before he starts laughing, and Grady looks like he’s about a minute away from shitting his pants.

Good .

Sure, Aggie is going to kill me later, probably on the ride home, but it shut that asshat right up and will keep the other guys from trying anything too. They know not to fuck with me. I’ve always been bigger than them, but since I got sober, I’m bigger yet thanks to my new addiction to obsessively working out and taking care of my body. Aggie doesn’t call me Thor for nothing. I could fuck them up without even trying.

“Hey!” Kyle turns back to Tucker and Craig. “Hey assholes! Come over here! Say hi to Aggie!”

Grady slowly creeps back into the shadows as the other guys stumble over, but before they reach us, my kitten tugs my hand and yanks, forcing me to dip my head toward her.

“What the hell was that?” she whisper-shouts in my ear.

But I just grin and give her a shrug. “I told you I’d keep Grady away.”

“By claiming we’re together together?”

Another shrug. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Aggie looks over at Grady, the dickhead already moving on to his next unsuspecting victim. “Yeah, well, you’re still in trouble, Noah Richard Thornbie.”

“I know.” I smirk in her face. “You can spank me later.”

Her cheeks flame, but Aggie giggles as she shakes her head. “Give a girl fair warning next time, okay? If I’m supposed to pretend to be the adoring girlfriend of a guitar god, I need time to prepare. You spring shit like that on me and there’s no telling what will happen.”

I can only hope.

Maybe I’m in trouble for it but I have a feeling pretending Aggie and I are together until the album drops—because hell yeah, we’re gonna keep it up that long—could be one of the best knee-jerk reactions I’ve had in a long time.

Either that or it’ll ruin the only relationship that matters to me as much as the one I have with my daughter.

But I’ve always been a risk taker, and this is one risk I’m willing to take.