Rock Steady by Dawn Ryder

down. Syon was set up in the corner of the suite, near the windows that showed them a view of the downtown Portland area. Syon had his guitar and laptop there. The screen displayed the music Syon had just been playing on the guitar. Ramsey plugged his guitar into the system while ignoring the question hanging in the air.
    “Taz—”
    “And I are fine,” Ramsey said, cutting Syon off. Ramsey started fingering the strings, but the music wasn’t flowing.
    “And Jewel?” Syon wouldn’t relent.
    “What about her?” Ramsey made his string squeal. “She took care of what she’s here for, and can’t do the rest of the work for a few weeks. I only brought her along as a convenience for me.”
    “I’m pretty sure we all figured that out,” Syon said.
    Ramsey sent him a hard look. “I’m not screwing her.”
    “Obviously her idea.”
    “What the fuck does it matter?” Ramsey demanded. “I don’t need any chick who has ideas about relationships. That’s how I ended up with cherry blossoms on my skin.”
    “That answers my question,” Syon said.
    “How so?” Ramsey asked. He reached over to hit the pause button on the laptop when Syon aimed his attention at the screen instead of answering. Syon sent him a narrow-eyed look.
    “Lumping Jewel into the same category as Tia tells me you aren’t finished being a dick,” Syon answered.
    “So what are you getting at?” Ramsey demanded. “Because you’re playing house, I need to settle down now? I’m a dick if I don’t? Is that it?”
    Syon shook his head. “You’re a dick for being pissed at the girl for not seeing you as a sex toy.”
    Syon punched the enter key and laid into his strings. The notes appeared on the screen as he played. Ramsey joined in, but his attention wasn’t on the music, and it showed in electronic black and white. His timing sucked, the computer program displaying his efficiency rating.
    “Guess you’ll be glad to know there’s plenty of work to keep Jewel busy and away from you.”
    Ramsey looked at Syon. “What kind of work?”
    Syon reset the program. “Seems word is already out that she’s on the bus with us. Kendra called and said they’ve got scores of requests for appointments with her.”
    “She’s not here to do tattoos for other people.” The words were past his lips before he realized how possessive he sounded.
    “Seems to me it would keep her out of your path,” Syon said. “A few of those requests come from our VIP box ticket holders. Kendra thinks it would be a boost for publicity if we gave away a session or two with her. We are paying her a salary.”
    Ramsey fingered his strings, feeling like the lump in his throat was going to gag him. The idea of Jewel being requested by their box ticket holders irritated him. The boxes went to men with enough money to hire a private jet on show day. Sometimes the boxes held trophy wives or spoiled kids of billionaires. A lot of the time, there were business tycoons who used the concert as time to hook up in wild abandonment under the cover of going to a concert.
    He didn’t want Jewel near them.
    As soon as the thought passed his mind, he grinned. Seeing Jewel hold her own against those balding, pudgy bastards, who thought they owned the world, would make his day.
    She’d do it, too. Keep them in their place or refuse to share her art with them. She had grit and spunk. A spirit that wasn’t going to surrender to being shackled, no matter how hard life became as a result.
    He fucking loved that about her.
    And it scared the shit out of him, too.
    He transmitted his emotions into his music as he thought, tipping his head back as he dissolved into the notes. Syon backed him up, letting him take the lead. It was like letting a piece of himself be ripped off his chest. It stung, and that just made him feel more alive.
    Like Jewel did.
    The thought refused to be pushed aside. It sat on his mind, lingering as he and Syon played. Sometime in the early hours of the morning,