Defining Destiny

by Deanna Chase

  It happens everywhere I go these days. Lucy Moore, the famous singing soul soother. It seems everyone wants a piece of me, and all I want to do is sing.

  Chapter 3

  Seth

  Across the bar, Lucy and Jax reappear from backstage. Lucy sweeps her dark bangs to the side as she frowns at Jax, but her plump lips make it look more like a pout. Despite the tongue-lashing I just received, or maybe because of it, I can’t help but be intrigued. What I wouldn’t give to tame her for one night. Not that Jax would approve. Oh, no. Lucy was off-limits, or so she’d said about ten times already.

  Lucy disappears into the back again and Jax returns, giving me an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Lucy’s a little touchy lately.”

  I shrug. “Whatever. I’m here for you, not your high-maintenance friend.” My gaze slips to the V of her smokin’ red top, and even though I’m not interested, I linger there, trying to erase the image of Lucy’s short skirt riding up her bare thighs as she walked away. And the way her full red lips seduced the rim of that shot glass. Dammit if I couldn’t already taste her lips on me. I harden, feeling myself strain against my zipper.

  “Stop, you pig.” She slaps me playfully on the arm. “And don’t call Lucy high maintenance. She really isn’t. Tonight is a big deal for her, that’s all. She hasn’t performed for an audience in over three months, and she’s only doing it now because I begged her.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Begged?”

  She shakes her head, laughing. “Is that all you ever think about?”

  That’s not what I meant. I work with Mike, one of the guitarists in the band, and overheard him talking about Lucy’s amazing voice. Why did Jax have to beg her best friend to sing for her on her birthday? But I play along, letting her think whatever she wants. “What do you expect from a manwhore?”

  “True. Anyway, you’re going to either die or want to take her to bed after you hear her sing.”

  “Half the guys in this bar already want to fuck her,” I say. “It’s those damned boots.”

  She eyes me slyly, seeing right through me. “Ah. You included, I see.”

  I say nothing and watch as Jax takes a sip of her margarita. Her lips attack the straw with a vengeance, eliciting a purely physical response south of my belt buckle. “Jesus, Jax. Stop that before you hurt someone.”

  “I’m trying to get noticed.”

  “Trust me. The other half of the bar is already undressing you.” Hell, if she were a stranger, I’d be right there with them, angling to get her alone for an hour or two to find out what those lips could really do. Then Lucy’s face clouds my vision, and all I can think about is wrapping her booted legs around my waist as I slip into her, hard and fast.

  “Stop looking at me like that.” Jax makes a face. “You’re freaking me out.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you’re wondering what exactly is underneath this sexified outfit.”

  I laugh. “Not even close, Russo. Your clothes hadn’t even crossed my mind.”

  “That’s because you probably were imagining me without any.”

  “Naked is always better.” I nudge her shoulder to make sure she knows I’m joking. I own my player reputation, deserve it many times over. But I’d never go there with Jax. She’s the relationship type. And I’m not. Not anymore, anyway. The last thing I want to do is hurt her by treating her as a one-night stand.

  I wave down the bartender, holding up my beer. “Another.” I point to Jax’s drink. “And a refill for her too. Put it on my tab.”

  Jax eyes me and then the beer.

  Irritation starts to build before she even says anything.

  “Who’s—”

  “Derek’s the DD tonight.” I shift to stare her in the eye. “Don’t start. Not tonight.”

  She holds her hands up in surrender. “Just asking.”

  “And what about you? How are you getting home after your shots and margaritas?”

  “Marty’s coming after work. It’s his present to me.”

  “His present?” I grimace with irritation. “To drive you home? What a dick.”

  “No, you idiot. To take care of me and Lucy. You know, make sure we don’t end up with total losers or drugged, and then he’s going to take us out for breakfast before we go home and suffer the worst hangovers of our lives. It’s what big brothers are for.”

  “If you say so.”

  “If you had a little sister, you’d understand.” She smiles patiently and takes another sip of her margarita.

  I make a noncommittal sound. I still think he’s a dick. But that might have something to do with his comment the day of E’s funeral. Don’t blame yourself, man. It was her choice to come pick your sorry ass up. A familiar rush of anger and helplessness fills me, and I slam the door on the memory. Not here. I won’t think about that now.

  Cold air whips across the bar as the front door opens and a line of people file in. The show is about to start, and apparently everyone between the age of eighteen and thirty within a fifty-mile radius has come out of the woodwork.

  “Dude.” Derek leans over the bar and grabs a bottle of water from a bucket of ice. “Of all the nights to ask me to be the designated driver, you had to choose this one?” He twists the top and takes a long slug. He’s just come from work and is still wearing his blue firefighter T-shirt. He’ll have five girls begging him to take them home within forty-five minutes. Or less, if he starts buying them drinks. “How am I going to get through this without something to take the edge off?”

  “Get through what?” I purposely ignore the way he’s looking at Jax. He’s had a slight obsession with her for as long as I can remember, yet he’s never made a move. And as far as I know, he never plans to.

  He lifts his water bottle to the crowd. “A night of barely dressed hot chicks. Are you fucking blind?”

  I might as well be, because right now, I don’t see anything except the girl strutting out onstage in her sex-bot boots, swaying her hips and seducing the crowd with her eyes before she even opens her mouth.

  Jesus. She’s going to kill me. I’m going to combust right here in the bar just staring at her pouty lips. She picks up the microphone and smiles tentatively at Mike, waiting for his cue.

  “Omigod!” Jax squeals and grabs my arm. “She’s actually going to go through with it.”

  I glance down at her and smile at her huge grin. Jax hasn’t looked this happy in months. Not since before the big breakup. “You were worried she wouldn’t?”

  She lets out an ironic huff of exasperation. “Are you kidding? I wasn’t even sure I’d get her to the bar, let alone near the stage.” Her pretty blue eyes meet mine and her smile fades. “Whatever happens, promise me you’ll be nice to her.”

  “What the hell, Jax?” I pull away slightly and frown at her, offended she has such a low opinion of me. “What do you think I’m going to do? Mock her and throw beer bottles?”

  She clutches my arm and pulls me back. “No. Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything. It’s just that this is a huge deal for her and I want it to go smoothly. She belongs up there. She’s not herself when she’s not singing.”

  Onstage, the band starts to play, and the girl who’d wobbled her way backstage has transformed into a dazzling, confident crowd-pleaser. She’s standing with her feet shoulder-width apart, her head held high, a seductive smile on her face as she scans the room. Her eyes land on me and she grips the mic with both hands. Then she starts singing. I instantly recognize the song as a popular Mandy Taylor number my sister is always playing. But instead of Mandy’s pop sound, Lucy’s voice is huskier, and she sings it slower. Seductively. She’s fucking mesmerizing.

  “Holy shit, dude.” Derek leans forward, eyeing Lucy as if he’s mentally calculating how fast he can rip her clothes off. “Who the hell is that?”

  “Don’t even think about it, asshole,” I growl. Where did that come from?

  “Awww.” Jax laughs. “You’re such a softy. Look at you, all pro
tective of my friend.” She slips her arm around me and gives me a sideways hug.

  “Yeah, softy,” Derek mimics and gives me that guy look that says he knows exactly what’s going on with me and it has nothing to do with being protective.

  I glare at him, making sure he knows it doesn’t matter my motives. She’s off-limits to the likes of him.

  “God,” Jax whispers. “Look at her.”

  My gaze automatically shifts to the fiery pixie onstage.

  “I didn’t think it was possible, but whoa. She’s even better than I remember.”

  The entire club is riveted, watching her strut around the stage. Then the band pauses and Lucy freezes, the mic held close to her lips. Her eyes scan the crowd, and my breath gets caught in my throat when her gaze lands on me. Something foreign in my gut flips over as her lips turn up into a secret smile I swear is meant just for me.

  Jesus, this girl knows what the hell she’s doing. She’s holding me in the palm of her hand, leaving me salivating for more. And though I’m sure I’m not the only one, I can’t tear my eyes away from her to confirm the effect she has on the room.

  Her gaze never shifts and she starts singing in the sexiest voice possible, “When it’s just you and me in the dead of the night, I get reckless… reckless… reckless.”

  I hear and see nothing except this girl in this very moment. Her brilliant blue eyes are sparkling with mischief and desire. It takes all my willpower not to stride up to the stage and whisk her away to the back where we can—

  “Here.” Derek shoves an ice-cold beer bottle into my hand. “You look like you need it.”

  I take the bottle but don’t drink. Lucy is still imploring me with those eyes, seducing me into a puddle of lust and something more I can’t quite explain. Something deeper that seems to come dangerously close to touching my soul. “Shit,” I mutter and lift the bottle to my lips, downing half the beer in one pull.

  Derek laughs. “It’s about damn time, man.”

  I turn around, deliberately tearing my gaze from the stage. “About time for what?”

  Jax is dancing in place, her margarita empty. I signal to the bartender to get her another.

  “That you took an interest in someone of the female persuasion.” He’s leaning against the bar, his gaze still locked on the stage.

  My body stiffens involuntarily, and I force myself to relax. “There has never been a time when I haven’t been interested in a hot chick.”

  He snorts. “Point taken. But I haven’t seen you look at one like that since…” Grimacing, he doesn’t finish the thought.

  Anger flares to life and shoots through my veins just as it always does when someone brings up E. I don’t want to talk about her, and I especially don’t want to talk about her after I’ve been thinking of all the dirty things I want to do with Jax’s friend.

  Jax’s margarita materializes at the same time the band switches to a slower Lady Antebellum song. I hand her the drink, and she smiles up at me, her eyes already glassy from her buzz.

  “Thanks!” She takes a long sip and frowns as she watches me.

  “Stop.” I run a finger over the bridge of her nose, smoothing her worry lines. “I’m fine.”

  “Of course you are,” she says quietly and slips her hand into mine. “But right now I need a dance partner and you’re it.”

  “What?” I’m already pulling my hand from hers when she tightens her grip and yanks.

  “It’s my birthday. You can’t turn down a dance from the birthday girl, that’s just bad karma you don’t need.” Her teasing tone is back, but I see right through her.

  She’s worried about me.

  Shit. I don’t dance. Not anymore. But Jax wraps her arms around my shoulders and starts to sway back and forth. I can’t just leave her on the dance floor.

  “Come on. One dance isn’t going to kill you.” She scowls at me.

  With no way to escape without being a first-class douche, I circle my arms around her waist and pull her close.

  “There. This isn’t so bad, is it?”

  I glance down into her blue, tequila-hazed eyes and force a smile. Yes. It is that bad. The phantom aroma of citrus mixed with oil paints assaults me. E’s image swims in my mind, a paintbrush in her hand as she turns the sound up on her old-fashioned radio. Then she dances toward me, that perpetual lust-inducing spark glinting in her espresso-colored eyes. My fists clench and I want nothing more than to stalk back over to the bar and down shot after shot of throat-burning whiskey until the memories exploding around me are buried in the fog of mind-numbing alcohol. “No.”

  She grins and presses her face to my chest.

  Across the room, Derek raises a glass in my direction, saluting my misfortune. I glare back. Dick. I concentrate on the rasp in Lucy’s voice and let Jax lead in the body-hugging dance for the rest of the song.

  As the last notes fade away, I kiss the top of her head. “Happy birthday, my friend.” Then I step out of her embrace and head directly to the bar, where Derek already has two shots of the sweet amber liquid waiting for me. Maybe he isn’t such a dick after all.

  “Thanks,” I say and down the first shot, wincing from the bitter aftertaste.

  “Cheers.” Derek raises his water in my direction, and I mimic the movement with the second shot.

  This one goes down smoother, and although the buzz hasn’t started yet, I feel the tension easing from my shoulders. I spend the next forty minutes leaning against the bar, focused on Lucy and those fucking boots.

  E never wore boots.

  “Seth!” A petite blonde who looks vaguely familiar bounces over, waving vigorously. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” Her eyelids flutter as she smiles up at me coyly. “I would’ve worn that sexy red miniskirt you seem to like so much.”

  Aw, shit. Carrie. Or was it Carly?

  “Where’ve you been?” Her lower lip juts out in a pout as she turns into me, pressing her modest breasts into my ribs.

  I actively work to keep myself from recoiling. She’s not unattractive. Not physically anyway. But the two dozen phone calls after the unfortunate one-night stand we’d had a few months ago was enough to make any man go into hibernation. “Hi.”

  She laughs. “Is that all you have to say after everything we shared?”

  “Uh…”

  Lucy seems to materialize out of nowhere and places her hand on my arm. I hadn’t even noticed the band announce they were taking a break. But Mike is already a few feet away, talking to the bartender.

  “Hey. Who’s your friend?” Lucy asks, lifting her dark hair off her neck to cool down after her performance.

  I glance from her to Carrie… Carly.

  The blonde stares at Lucy’s hand, which is still on my arm, and scowls. “I’m a close friend of Seth’s.”

  Jesus. Close friend. More like stalker. I stiffen and shift closer to Lucy. Carly’s arm slips away, and before I know what’s happening, Lucy replaces her on my other side. I’m all too happy to drape my arm over her shoulders and pull her to my side. And damn if she doesn’t fit against me perfectly.

  “Friend? My goodness, I don’t think my Seth has ever mentioned you.” Lucy’s tone is upbeat, nothing like the Lucy I met an hour ago. “Old friend?”

  My Seth? Sweet Lord, she’s posing as my girlfriend. Now I really want to take her home and do all kinds of indecent things to her.

  “We go way back,” Carly says in a flat voice. Her face is scrunched up, her nose twitching in agitation. She has the look of one of those nervous dogs that gets antsy around strangers. “But he’s never mentioned you.”

  Lucy laughs as if she thinks Carly’s charming. “Well, you know Seth. He’s got the strong, silent type thing going on.”

  Carly says nothing as she narrows her eyes at me, clearly trying to cut me down with that female death glare.

  Lucy holds out her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name. I’m Lucy.”

  “Oh, sorry,” I say, snapping out
of my trance. “Lucy, this is Carly. We met—”

  “It’s Cami, you ass.” My one-night stand is now seething and leaning forward on the balls of her feet with her hands fisted. I slept with this? I make a mental note to never drink again. Or at least limit my intake to something a few levels below plastered.

  I take a step back, pulling Lucy with me. Cami might scratch my eyes out if she sees an opening. “Right. I meant Cami.” I smile at Lucy, trying to downplay the fact that I’m a complete idiot. No one’s buying it, though. Lucy tries to hide a snicker by twisting into me. She’s soft and smells of lime. My gaze travels to her lips, and we both freeze, caught in the moment.

  Cami clears her throat, breaking our connection. She practically sneers at us and then turns and stomps across the bar, taking short, ridiculously slow steps on her impossibly high heels.

  Laughing, Lucy pulls away, leaving an aching void beside me. I want to reach out and pull her back but clamp down on the impulse. “Jeez, Seth. You should’ve seen the look you had on your face.”

  I pick up my beer and take a long drink. “Was I that obvious?”

  “Only if you were wishing to disappear or contemplating the fastest getaway route.”

  “Yep. Obvious.” I smile down at her, enjoying our exchange more than I care to admit. For the last year and a half, with the exception of my friendship with Jax, I’ve kept my female relationships on a purely physical level. Life is easier that way. “Thanks for the help.”

  “You owe me.” She winks and lets Mike drag her back toward the stage.

  I’m still staring at her ass when Jax reappears.

  “Stop that.” She’s clutching the bar and her eyes are bloodshot.

  “Stop what?” I ask.

  “Devouring Lucy with your eyes.” She slurs the words and adds, “She’s off-limits.”

  “Why? Her mate?” There’s an ache of disappointment in my chest that takes me completely off guard. Physical. That’s all it is. Lucy’s hot. And cool. And talented. And completely alluring. I could watch her perform for hours and be perfectly content.