“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.
Jax shakes her head and seems to sober a little. “She’s done with him. But she’s my best friend and you’re my other best friend. I can’t have her hating you when you don’t call the next day.”
I nod reluctantly and take another drink. She’s right. I won’t call, and we both know this as fact.
“Good.” Jax climbs up on the stool and pats the one next to her. “Sit. I’m going to save you from Cami. She’s over in the corner plotting fifty ways to remove your man bits.”
I choke, spraying my beer on the people standing in front of me. “What?”
The beer-covered couple turns and gives me a disgusted look.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“You heard me,” Jax says. “I’m sure it’s all talk, but I’ll be your buffer just in case she goes into stalker mode again.”
The music starts, so I give her a half-hug and say into her ear, “You’re the best.”
“I know.”
Luc
y starts singing a Colbie Caillat song. The entire bar goes quiet, captivated by her singer-songwriter persona. Is there anything this girl can’t sing? Her voice is winding through me when Jax gasps and clutches my arm, her fingernails cutting into my skin. “Omigod!”
“What?” I follow her gaze to find her staring at a guy roughly our age standing just inside the front door. He’s staring at Lucy, a stormy expression on his face.
“Who the hell is that?” I growl from pure protectiveness. I can’t stand the way he’s eyeing her, as if he’s ready to drag her off the stage and stuff her in the trunk of his car.
Jax sucks in a breath. “Her ex, Cadan.”
Chapter Four
Lucy
As I’m strutting across the stage, microphone clutched in my hand, the allure of the stage grabs hold of me, filling my soul with joy. I imagine myself lit up, my eyes sparkling with happiness. It’s a state of being I haven’t experienced while singing for at least the past two years. Not since before Cadan and I started performing together, anyway. What we’d had was intense. Emotional. Draining in the best possible way. But that had been for the audience, not for me. Then Cadan had turned into a world-class bastard, tainting everything that was good about singing.
This feeling I have right now? It’s heady and intoxicating. Maybe even selfish. And I take it all in, loving every moment of it. The music winds through me, and as I scan the crowd, I settle my gaze on Seth. He’s tracking me with those smoldering eyes. It only takes one look to know what he’s thinking. I feed off his hunger, giving it right back to him through my throaty rendition of “Body and Soul” by Tori Amos.
I can see he’s talking to Jax, but his gaze never wavers from mine. My worldview narrows, and though the bar is full of people, I’m singing to just him. I’m taken to another dimension, completely lost in the music. Lost in Seth—the sexy stranger I’m uncharacteristically drawn to.
My body vibrates with excitement and my heart hammers against my ribs. I’m painfully aware I’m moments from being pulled completely under his spell, lost once again to the attraction of a man.
No. Not this time. I tear my gaze away and focus on the crowd closest to the stage. The joy comes flooding back with the pulse of the music and I give them everything I have.
But as the last notes of the song fade away, my attention is pulled back to Seth. Jax is clutching his arm, smiling in my direction. Good, she’s enjoying herself. This is supposed to be for her after all.
I’m halfway through an acoustic number when Jax tears away from Seth, heading directly for the door. She pushes through the crowd, and I lose sight of her for a moment. What is she doing? I glance back at Seth. He’s scowling, staring after her. Then the crowd parts, and I finally see what everyone else does.
Cadan.
My entire body goes numb and the mic slips from my hand. I barely notice the loud screech when it tumbles to the stage.
“Lucy?” Mike touches my elbow. “You okay?”
I give him a tiny shake of my head, my eyes wide in shock. What the hell is Cadan doing here? He’s supposed to be on tour in Colorado. And how did he know where to find me? Jax wouldn’t have said anything to him. And I hadn’t told anyone else he knows I’m singing tonight. No one except my mother.
Shit. Dammit. Son of… Why can’t she leave well enough alone?
“No,” I say to Mike. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave. Now.” Without waiting for a response, I stalk across the stage and into the back, rubbing my suddenly goose-pimpled arms.
“Lucy!” Mike follows me. “What’s wrong?”
I spin and nearly fall over. Jesus. I’m perfectly fine strutting around stage in these suicide boots, but once I’m just regular Lucy, all my coordination flies out the window. “It’s Cadan. My ex. I can’t see him. Not tonight. I have to go.”
“Cadan Kinx?” His eyes go wide with wonder the way every other wannabe rocker’s do when they finally meet the famous Cadan.
“Shit,” I say again. “Yes. Go out there and stall him. You can even say I sent you. That will get him talking.” Anything to give me a few minutes to escape.
He glances at the door and then back to me, clearly unsure of what to do.
“Go!” I push him toward the door leading back into the bar.
“What’s going on?” Teo asks as he bounds into the dressing room, still holding his guitar. Justin, our drummer, follows him, his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets.
“You’re going out there to stall Cadan,” I say, pushing Teo after Mike. “Tell him I’ll be out in a few minutes.
“Will you?” Justin asks, eyeing me with a quiet intelligence.
“Hell, no.” The tears start to burn my eyes. Why did he have to show up and ruin everything? I’d been happy. Normal even, for the first time since I left him at that hotel three months ago. I steel myself. I will not cry over Cadan. Not tonight. I’m done with that. Done letting him prey on my emotions. Mate or not, I cut him out of my life and no way am I letting him back in.
Teo runs a hand over the spikes of his stiff, gelled hair and nods. “You got it.” He’s already striding out the door when Mike and Justin turn and follow him.
I don’t hesitate. I don’t even go into the bar to get my coat. I’d rather freeze in the December air than have to talk to Cadan. One of two things will happen. Either we’ll have a huge fight that will end in me screaming at him again, or he’ll give me a sob story and try to convince me to do one more show. Neither is on my agenda. I wrap my arms around my torso and use my hip to push open the back door.
The chilly wind assaults me and my teeth instantly start chattering. Oh my God. In my haste, I forgot my keys. Jax has them. Not that I should be driving anyway. I’ve had way too many tequila shots and margaritas.
Marty. Is he even here yet? I glance at the thin wristwatch on my right arm. Crap. No, he isn’t due for another hour. I press against the side of the building and glance up and down the street. The small town is pretty much boarded up for the night. Only the bar is open. I start walking. Jax’s house is in town, but it’s a good three miles up the main highway. Not exactly a prime walking path.
I glance across the street at the dark Pacific Ocean, nostalgic for the time before I’d ever met Cadan. Then I tuck my head down and run toward the nearest cross street, praying I don’t break an ankle.
“Lucy!” a deep voice calls over the noise of the ocean churning against the rocks.
I stop mid-run and turn to stare at Seth. “What are you doing out here?” I stammer, my lips already frozen.
He runs to catch up with me and holds out my coat.
“Oh!” I grasp it and hug it to my body and then quickly slide my arms into the heavenly wool. “Did Jax send you?”
He nods and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” I take two steps for every one of his, trying to keep up.
“There’s a place a few blocks from here where we can get out of the cold until Marty comes for you.” He turns and pulls me down a side street and out of the wind.
“Thank you,” I say with a relieved sigh.
He quirks an eyebrow and his lips turn up in a sexy half smile. “I owe you one, remember?”
The sound of his quiet, self-assured tone makes my insides go all tingly. I have a thing for confident men with rough voices. Cadan, while oozing more confidence than is warranted, has a smooth, clear-as-a-bell voice that’s perfect for hitting all the right notes but lacks something in the gritty-and-sexy department.
“Right,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting to collect so soon.”
We make a left on the next street and head down closer to the shoreline. Finally we stop at a white, plank-sided house. I glance up and gasp. On what I assume is the third floor is a glass studio with a bird’s-eye view of the ocean. “You live here?”
“It’s my sist
er’s place. She’s out of town.” He doesn’t say any more, just unlocks the door and shuffles me inside. Warmth envelops me, and I stand there in the cheery yellow kitchen, waiting for my nose to defrost.
Seth shrugs out of his coat and reaches for mine, but I wrap it closer around my body. “Not yet,” I say. “Give me a few more minutes.”
“I’ll turn the heat up.” He disappears into the next room, leaving me standing next to a fully stocked bar area. The granite counter and dark wood cabinet don’t match the white cupboards and seem out of place in the country-style kitchen. Total bachelor move. But didn’t he say this is his sister’s place?
“Hey!” I call. “Does she have any coffee?”
“The beans are in the fridge. Help yourself.”
Now that I’m slowly regaining feeling in my limbs, I move toward the refrigerator and note my buzz has all but worn off. Between my performance, the panic of seeing Cadan, and my foray into the arctic December winds of Mendocino, my metabolism has done a stellar job of working its way through all that tequila. Fortunately, when I open the door and find the Colombian roast beans, a bottle of Kahlúa stares back at me. “The hell with it.”
I grab the bottle then make short work of grinding the beans and starting the coffee. While I wait for Seth to return, I fill my mug with the Colombian blend and top it off with the Kahlúa. Then I sit at a round breakfast-nook table, sipping away as I stare at the full moon shining over the Pacific. Finally I’m warm enough that I shrug out of my jacket.
Seth comes in holding a pair of thick wool socks. He eyes the rum liqueur on the table and chuckles.
“I’ll replace it,” I say, biting my lip. “I just needed something to take the edge off.”
His amused smile fades, replaced by that smoldering look he’s been giving me the entire night. My cheeks burn and I know I’m turning multiple shades of red.
“Understandable,” he says.
I scramble up from my chair and hurry over to the coffeepot. Without asking, I grab another cup for him and fill it with the Colombian roast. I refill mine halfway, leaving room for more alcohol. I’m not going to get through this night sober. At least, not easily. I hold his mug up to him. “Do you take anything in it?”
Rockers After Dark: 6 Book Bundle of Sexy Musicians Page 4
