For the next set we were comfortable enough with each other to step it up a notch. The performance went by in a blur and our voices meshed together perfectly. He knew exactly when to drop his pitch and tone and I knew when to lift mine. It felt as if we had been singing together our whole lives. Our harmony was spot on, the blend of our voices sublime. It was music at its finest. It was pure brilliance and I never wanted it to end.
“That was incredible. Thanks for sharing your stage with me,” Dillon said, as we were putting away our guitars. “The rasp in your voice is amazing.”
“Thank you,” I shyly replied. People had told me this before, but I’d never heard it from a fellow musician. “That means a lot to me. At first I was wary but I have to confess. You, too, have an awesome voice and I had…fun.”
He laughed. “You sound so surprised?”
“Oh! Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything. It has just been a really long time since I cut loose and had fun,” I sheepishly admitted.
With a smile and a wink, he said, “Well, why stop now? Have a drink with me. We can talk music and about why you haven’t had fun in a really long time.”
“She’d love to, except she promised to have a drink with me,” interrupted the voice of my best friend, Sally. She was standing stage left with her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face.
Sally Wilder and I met the first day of kindergarten, when some kid named Marlon tried to force me to touch a frog he had found on the playground. I didn’t want to touch the frog because I just knew it would give me warts. If I had warts, then my sister would make fun of me and my mom would threaten to kick me out of the house. Sally stepped in and told Marlon to leave me alone. Ignoring her, he shoved the frog in my face. Having none of that, Sally kicked his kneecap and made him drop the frog. As soon as he started wailing, she grabbed my hand and dragged me off to the jungle gym. We had been best friends ever since.
Sally stood all of five feet tall. With short brown hair, hazel eyes and zero body fat, she was a force of nature. She was fiercely protective of me, but most especially when it came to men, or should I say, Jimmy. Jimmy despised Sally and the feeling was more than mutual. The prospect of needing to explain Sally’s disposition and my relationship with Jimmy to Dillon nauseated me, but I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to talk about music with someone who understood. If he asks, I’ll just give him the basics.
“Can I have a rain-check, Sal?” My eyes quietly pleaded with her.
She stared at me for a second and, I guess saw something in them that reassured her, because she suddenly nodded her head in agreement. “Fine, I’m going back behind the bar. Say goodbye before you leave and make sure you leave the front porch light on.” She gave me a quick hug and Dillon a look of warning. He smiled openly and winked at her and she scowled.
As soon as she was gone, he turned and gave me a what-the-hell-was-that look. “Sorry, that’s my best friend, Sally. She’s a little protective of me,” I told him. “Let me get my stuff from the back office and I’ll be right out.”
“What’s your pleasure?” he asked.
You naked in my bed popped into my head. I refrained from slapping myself for having such dirty thoughts. For all I knew he had a girlfriend waiting at home for him. “Order me a beer, please. Any variety will do. I like them all.”
He placed his hand over his heart and gasped. “A woman who likes all beer! Say it isn’t so?”
Laughing, I went in search of my guitar case and purse. When I returned he had commandeered a couple of barstools and beers for us.
“Why thank you, kind sir,” I said as I perched on the stool next to him.
“Twas nothing at all,” he responded. Our eyes met and held for a second before I looked away.
“She blushes,” he quietly said.
“No she doesn’t,” I replied, even though we both knew I was lying. Looking for something else to talk about, I asked him where he was living.
“I’ve been living in Charlotte about a year now.” A part of me was sad to hear this.
“Really? Do you have a regular gig there?”
“As a matter of fact, I just got a job at a new bar called Dragonfly. I start work in a few weeks and am hoping they’ll let me play every now and then.”
“It would be a shame if they didn’t,” I responded.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Born and raised right here in Charleston,” I replied. His gaze made me self-conscious. I suddenly had the urge to bolt to the bathroom and make sure I didn’t have make-up smeared all over my face.
As if reading my mind, he laughed and said, “Sorry for staring. I’m not a pervert or anything, I swear. I’ve just never seen hair so black and eyes so blue before, and I realize this sounds like a line but it’s not.”
“Sure it’s not,” I teased through my laughter. His silver eyes locked on mine and a tendril of desire slithered up my spine. With just a look, this guy had me practically panting. Jimmy’s touch had been pleasant, but, it had never made me want to beg him for it. If anything, I spent most of my time fending him off and making excuses. Taking a big swig of my beer, I said, “My Mom is Italian and my Dad was Irish.”
“Was?”
“He left when I was one. Gloria raised me and my older sister all by herself.”
“Gloria?” he asked.
“My mom.”
“From the looks of it, she did a great job,” he murmured and my face instantly heated. “Hey, do you by chance want to get out of here?”
“Another line that’s not a line?” I teasingly asked and he laughed.
“That most definitely was a line,” he replied.
As we laughed together, I wondered if I should invite him back to my place or not. I had never been so forward with a man before, but he didn’t know this. He didn’t know the beaten-down, introverted Isabella I had become. All he knew was the Isabella sitting in front of him. I could be anyone right now and he wouldn’t know the difference. There was something incredibly freeing about this.
He dipped his head to catch my eyes. “We can stay here. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
I shook my head. “Oh, you didn’t. In fact, why don’t we go back to my place?”
His eyebrows rose in question. “You sure?”
I smiled. “Positive.”
“Will she mind?” He nodded his head at Sally, who was busy serving drinks at the opposite end of the bar.
“Naw, she’ll probably go home with one of the bartenders, anyway,” I told him.
He laughed. “I have to head back to Charlotte sometime tomorrow so if you don’t mind, I’ll just follow you in my car.”
On that note, we grabbed our guitars and my purse. I waved to Sally, who mouthed for me to be safe, and headed out the door. I had already said goodbye to Uncle Charlie in the back. I was glad he wasn’t seeing me leave with Dillon. The last thing I wanted to do was explain why I was leaving the bar with Angela’s nephew.
After I moved in with Uncle Charlie, he made sure I finished high school with decent grades and encouraged me to go to college. I didn’t want to disappoint him the way my sister, who never bothered to finish high school, had. At my uncle’s insistence, I applied and got accepted to College of Charleston. Since I lived in town, I didn’t have to pay for room and board. Uncle Charlie helped me pay for books and tuition and between the two of us I managed to graduate with a major in Music and a minor in English. I went to school during the day and worked at night and on the weekends at the bar. Every Friday night I got to play the songs I had written, as well as my favorite covers. Friday nights were my night to shine.
When I graduated two years earlier, my uncle gave me some money for a graduation present. I ultimately used that money for a down payment on a town house. In order to pay the mortgage, I taught guitar lessons at Milton’s Guitar Shop during the day and worked the bar at night. This, and Sally renting the whole upstairs from me, allowed me to make e
nds meet. I was beginning to settle into my independence, which was part of the reason I didn’t want to live with Jimmy. The thought of giving it up to him made my stomach turn.
Dillon drove a kick ass, navy blue, four door Jeep. Hands down, it beat my very used Toyota Camry I purchased a few years earlier from one of my uncle’s patrons. Stepping out of the car, I met him on the sidewalk in front of my place and kindly warned him about Brutus, who we could hear barking all the way from the street.
“That’s my dog, Brutus. His bark is much worse than his bite.” At least for most people it was. Brutus never warmed up to Jimmy. In fact, he despised the man, which was yet another reason I didn’t want to move in with Jimmy. I knew he would try to make me get rid of my baby and that was never going to happen.
Dillon paused mid-stride. “He sounds big and really pissed off.”
“He’s part lab and part mastiff. He’ll be fine once he gets to know you. Whatever you do, though, don’t run. He’ll think it’s a game and it really hurts when he tackles you from behind,” I explained, as I inserted the key in the lock. I opened the door a crack and sternly said, “Sit Boo.” Brutus immediately sat. However, he continued baring his teeth and growling at Dillon.
“Holy shit!” Dillon exclaimed behind me. At a year old, Brutus was already a hundred pounds. The vet said he would not reach his full height and weight until around two years of age. He was big, black and seriously intimidating. Uncle Charlie gave him to me the day I moved into my town house. He was worried about me living by myself, so he went out and bought me a puppy…that would grow into an obscenely large dog.
“Be nice,” I commanded. “Stick out your hand and let him get your scent,” I calmly told Dillon. Dillon’s hand instantly went out. Instead of snapping at it, like he always did to Jimmy’s, Brutus nuzzled Dillon’s hand. I smiled at him. “See, he knows you’re good people.”
“Not so sure about that,” Dillon wryly replied and I laughed.
“He doesn’t like my sister and she’s blood. The only people he lets anywhere near him are me, Sally, Uncle Charlie and now…you. Everyone else he barely tolerates.”
Before I knew it, Dillon and Brutus were wrestling like old friends on my entry way floor. Shaking my head, I decided to grab a few beers from the fridge. I went to step over them and two hands reached up and yanked me onto the floor. I squealed as I was licked to death by my behemoth of a dog, while being tickled by his new best friend. Five minutes of this and my gut hurt from laughing. It had been a long time since I had been around so much laughter and fun. My reserves were so empty that I didn’t realize how much I had missed it…until now.
Brutus, finally getting his fill of activity, moseyed off to his water bowl and bed. I turned my head to ask Dillon if he wanted a beer, but before I could get the words out, his hands were in my hair and his lips were pressed to mine. My breath caught in my throat. I expected him to pull back and apologize. Instead, he bit down on my bottom lip which caused me to open my mouth wider. His tongue swept in and his hands clinched tightly in my hair. Unlike Jimmy, Dillon’s dominance didn’t scare me. It enflamed me and made me want more. Reaching up, I wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck and melted into this wonderfully amazing kiss, unlike any I had ever experienced before. Our lips parted and our tongues danced. All the while, his soulful silver eyes stared into mine.
Dillon pulled his head away long enough to gruffly say, “Bedroom.” I paused for a second. Could I do this? After a year with the same man, could I let another man inside my body? “Don’t over think it,” he whispered into my ear before sucking on the lobe. “I know you feel it, too. Just go with it.”
“D-down the hall,” I stammered. “The bedroom is past the kitchen and down the hall.”
Reaching down, he hoisted me into his arms as if I weighed nothing. He then carried me down the hall and into my bedroom, where he gently deposited me at the foot of my bed. Before I could come up with an excuse as to why we shouldn’t do this, he parted my legs and stepped between them. His hands came up and gently pulled the scarf from my hair. For the first time in forever, I felt alive. I also felt nervous. This man’s touch ignited a fire inside of me and made me want things I didn’t know existed. I can do this. No, I am going to do this. Just once, I’m going to step from the ledge and throw caution to the wind.
Chapter Two
Dillon
‡
Fuck! I didn’t think I could like this girl any more than I already do…and then she whips out her bad-ass dog. I’m fucked.
“Stick out your hand and let him get your scent,” she calmly commanded.
I stuck my hand in front of the dog’s snout and waited to see if he would lick it or bite it off. When he nuzzled my hand, I knew I was golden. He butted against my legs as I walked through the door and almost knocked me over. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. It may be his house, but for tonight I was master. I just needed to get him on board with that plan. Two seconds later, the big shit nipped at my heel and I decided it was time. Dropping to my knees, I ducked my head and pulled his front legs out from under him. As he started to fall, I flipped him onto his back and held him down. He growled and tried to get up. “No,” I forcefully said. I knew I had him when he licked my hand.
Isabella laughed somewhere behind me. The throaty sound of it made my dick swell. Never, in my whole life, had I been turned on by just the sound of a woman’s voice. Until now. I rolled away from the dog and busted her shaking her head at my canine shenanigans. Still laughing, she made a move to step over us and I saw the perfect opportunity to reach up and pull her down to the floor. Her squeals of laughter caused Brutus to playfully woof before licking her all over. All the while, I used the excuse of tickling her just to get my hands on her lush, sexy body. Not able to control myself any longer, I threaded my fingers through her silky hair and lowered my mouth to hers. When she tried to pull back, I gently bit down on her lower lip. She froze for a second before giving in. I swept in and conquered.
When I was fourteen and my brother, Adam, was sixteen, we had to go live with my mother’s younger sister, Angela, in Charleston, South Carolina. We had only seen my aunt a handful of times, up to this point in our lives. As you can imagine, being completely uprooted in order to live with a relative we barely knew was a bit disturbing. Aunt Angela, however, was a trooper. At the drop of a hat, she altered her entire life to make room for two grieving teenage boys. Not only that, she raised us as her own, which was something not many people would do.
Years later, both Adam and I joined the military. We chose to return home to Aunt Angela every leave we had. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer a year and a half ago. After months of chemo and radiation, she was in remission and we thought she had it beat. Around that time, I decided I was officially done with the military. It just so happened that Zane, a former Army buddy of mine, was living in Charlotte, North Carolina and wanted me to headline at a place he partially owned. So, instead of moving back to South Carolina as planned, I moved to Charlotte.
Six months later, Aunt Angela found out the cancer was back, only this time it had spread into her lymph nodes and bones. Her refusal to do more treatments made me angry at first. Now it just made me feel helpless and sad. Every time I mentioned moving back to South Carolina, she threw a fit and spouted all kinds of shit about turning old and grey with nothing to show but a life full of loneliness and trinkets. After weeks of this, I made up my mind to ignore her and move back anyway. Then I was approached with the opportunity to help run a new bar in South Charlotte called Dragonfly. This opportunity came with the chance to play guitar and sing on my own terms…whenever I wanted. It was almost too good to be true.
Two weeks ago, I ran into Charlie Porter in the grocery store while I was in Charleston visiting my aunt. He told me a few people in town wanted to do something for my aunt. The hospital bills had almost burned through my aunt’s savings and retirement money, so I jumped at the opportunity when Charlie asked if I would
be interested in sharing the stage with his youngest niece, Ibby, for a night in order to help out. The image of a chubby, pimply twenty year old popped into my head and I quickly pushed it away. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my aunt, including sharing the stage for a night…even though it was something I hated to do.
Tonight was the night. Here I was, on a strange stage, tuning my guitar, while waiting for little Ibby, who apparently had no concept of time management. Spoiled brat. What kind of name is Ibby anyway? The clicking of heels across the stage told me she had finally decided to grace us with her presence. Not wanting her to catch me staring, in case she was self-conscious or something, I focused down at my guitar. Click, click, click, swish…she quickly skirted by on the way to the empty stool. The subtle scent of flowers and grapefruit wafted across my nose and I felt a sudden urge to see the owner of such a scent. Quickly, I glanced up, but all I could see was the silky black hair covering her chunky face. Well, at least she has a good head of hair going for her. Her head started to rise and I quickly glanced back down at my guitar. Finally we could get this thing started. A minute or so later, I looked back up and almost swallowed my tongue. Little Ibby wasn’t plump…or pimply. In fact, she was the complete opposite. Raven colored hair framed one of the most classically beautiful faces I had ever seen. She reminded me of a young Elizabeth Taylor. Memories of watching old movies with my mom ran through my head and I quickly shut them out. She fluidly tossed the guitar strap over her shoulder before glancing my way. My breath caught in my throat as I stared into eyes the color of sapphires. A set of full, red lips that looked as if they were made for dirty things, innocently smiled at me and I held out my hand.
One More Time (MMG Series Book 3) Page 2
