I want to jump him.

I also want to strangle him.

“I should have told you about Eric’s fuckery.”

“Yes, you should have, but I don’t really give a shit about Eric. I know he’s a dumbass, and Cher’s right, he needs to grow the fuck up.”

I don’t want to argue in our bedroom, so I stomp past Leo, out to the second floor living space.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Leo.” I take a deep breath, then turn to him. “I knew this would turn into a brainstorming session for a new album and tour. I knew it.”

“We didn’t brainstorm a new album.”

“No, you just wrote about six songs and talked about touring non stop.” I throw my hands in the air. “I’m not okay with that, Leo. You promised me you’d take a year off.”

“And I am,” he says. His voice is hard, and his jaw ticks from clenching it. “I just enjoyed a day with my friends.”

I prop my hands on my hips and stare at him. I can’t win this argument. Ever.

“Sam, you knew that this is what I do when you married me.”

“I know that. And I love you. I want to see more of you.”

“We have a two-week rule,” he insists. “I’ve never broken that.”

“Yeah, they get two weeks, and I get two days. In the six years we’ve been together, I’ve never complained. Not once. Because you’re right, I did know what I was getting myself into. And I’m damn proud of you. But it’s hard, Leo.”

“Are you going to ask me to choose, Samantha? Between you or music?”

My whole body breaks out in a cold sweat.

“What if I am?”

His hands ball into fists. “That’s not fair.”

I turn away from him, marching through the space, looking through tear-filled eyes at this magnificent house he built for me, and how wonderful our life is.

“You know, you gave me this gorgeous home. You’ve built an amazing life for me.” I turn back to him. “And I live it alone. How is that fair?”

He flinches, and I feel like I’m dying inside.

“I miss my husband, and I’m not going to apologize for that, Leo. Don’t you miss me when you’re gone? Don’t you get even a little homesick?”

“Of course! I love you! I’m doing all of this for you.”

“Don’t you dare put this all on me, Leo Nash. That’s not fair either.” I point a finger in his chest, watching as his nostrils flare with frustration and anger. “I have everything I could possibly want and more. I just want you. I want a marriage with my husband.

“I’m not asking you to choose. Making music is part of who you are, and I’m so in love with you it makes me stupid. But I need you to give as much time and energy to me as you give to music.”

I take his hand and press his palm against my cheek. “You don’t have to choose. You can have both.”

He frames my face in his hands and tips his forehead against mine, and just this little touch soothes me immediately.

“I’m sorry that you’re lonely.”

The tears slip down my cheeks now.

“I didn’t get married to be alone,” I whisper. “I can’t do it anymore. I’m not just sharing you with the music. I’m sharing you with the band, and all of the fans. You’re not just out on tour, Leo. You’re a guest judge on the Voice, and you’re making guest appearances somewhere every other week.”

“I can back off on a lot of that,” he says. “Sam, you’re so fucking independent. I know you can do your thing without me.”

“Yes, I can, but that doesn’t mean that I want to, or that I don’t need you, Leo. I need a partnership with you. I’m not just your biggest fan, I’m your wife, and I want to have the chance to prove that I’m good at that.”

“You’re excellent.”

“But how do you know? In six years, I’ve only had the chance to be with you for a few months, if we add it all together.”

“I’m sorry.” He crushes me to him, holding me fiercely. “The job is a habit, Sam. It’s been a part of my life for so long, it just is. I wish you’d talked to me about this sooner.”

“I didn’t want you to think that I don’t support you. Because you know I do. But I need you.”

“You always come first, Sunshine. If you don’t want me gone, I won’t be gone.”

“It’s not just about you,” I remind him. “You have a band, and they love the work.”

“Look, we already promised you a year, and we’re going to keep that promise. But I can also promise you this: going forward, we will release an album and tour no more than every other year. We can play it by ear from there.”

“You’d do that?”

Why am I surprised? I know him. I should have known that all I had to do was talk to him.

“Anything.” He pulls me to him again and buries his face in my neck. “I’d do anything for you, Samantha Nash. I love you, every damn day of my life, and that’s never going to change. You want me to give it all up today? Done.”

“No.” I pull away and shake my head emphatically. “I don’t want that. But the every other year thing sounds like a good compromise.”

“I think so, too.” He kisses my nose and I trace the tattoo on his shoulder. “What am I going to do with all of my free time?”

“Gardening? You could learn to cook. Oh! You could probably work at Nic’s bakery.”

His lips are twitching with humor as he lays them gently over my own.

“I might take my own advice and write music for other artists.”

“That’s a great idea.”

“Starla called not long ago, asking if I had any new stuff.”

“Except for her,” I reply, pulling back to glare at him. “No working with women you’ve boned before.”

“Another rule?”

“Hell yes.”

He chuckles and bites my earlobe, sending shivers up and down my back.

“Okay, I can live with that rule.”

“But I like the idea of you writing music. You could even produce some if you wanted.”

His eyebrows rise in thought. “That’s not a bad idea. There are studios in Seattle, and I could even work out of the house a bit.”

“See? You’ll fill your time with plenty.”

“I’ll be able to make love to you more often.”

I bite my lip and groan when he cups my ass and presses against me.

“Yes, that’s one hell of a perk.”

“Sunshine?”

“Hmm?”

“Every damn day.”

“I love you too. Every day.”

A Rockstar Reunion Menu

Smoked Chicken Salad

1 Smoked Chicken

2 cups mayonnaise

1/4 cup Dijon mustard

1/2 cup sweet pickle relish

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon pepper

1/4 cup dried cranberries

1/4 cup chopped pecans

Remove the bone and skin from the chicken. Place the chicken in a food processor and pulse 2-3 times to break apart large pieces. Add the mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, sweet pickle relish, salt and pepper and pulse again. Transfer the chicken salad to a large bowl and fold in dried cranberries and pecans.

Smoked Chicken

1 whole (5-6 pound) chicken, cut in half

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons Montreal steak seasoning

Vinegar BBQ Sauce (Click here for recipe)

4 cups hickory wood chips

Gently rub both sides of chicken with butter, including under the skin (best part). Season both sides with Montreal seasoning. Prepare a smoker to smoke at 275 degrees. While the smoker is heating, place the hickory chips in a bowl of water for at least 15 minutes. Once the smoker has reached 275 degrees, add the wood chips and place the chicken on a rack, skin side up. Cover and smoke. The chicken will take approximately 2 hours to reach an internal temperature of 165 degrees. While the chicken is smoking, baste with a generous amount of the vinegar based sauce every 30 minutes (4 times total). Remove the chicken from the smoker and allow to rest for at least 10 minutes before serving.