“I’m booked on Saturdays,” I reply.
“We’ll see,” she says with a smile as her heels click down the stairs back to the main bar where Adam has finished with his call and is stocking bottled beer in the cooler.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“I think you’d better stock more beer. This place is going to be hopping in about two hours.”
***
God, I love to perform. I love every part of it: singing, playing all of the instruments, watching the crowd as they dance or sing along. Music is as necessary to me as breathing and it’s always come naturally to me. They call me a prodigy, but I don’t know about that. All I know is, it’s a part of me that I’ll never let go of.
I’m toward the end of my last set, and I was right. The place is packed, wall-to-wall, standing room only. Adam and another bartender I haven’t seen before are working the bar, and two waitresses are working the room.
Callie has been mingling, helping wherever she’s needed, and working her ass off in general.
How she can do all of that in the shoes she wears is a mystery to me, and my sister Charly owns a shoe store. I’ve come to realize that I’ll never solve that particular mystery.
As long as women continue to wear them, I’m good.
Speaking of Charly, my eyes meet hers in the crowd. It didn’t surprise me that she showed up with our brother, Eli, and his girlfriend, Kate. It did surprise me, however, to see that she brought a date along.
I wonder who the fuck this one is.
Not that he’ll be around for long. Charly doesn’t keep men in her life. Odd, how our parents were married for the better part of five decades, faithfully and in love for every day of those years, yet most of their six children are commitment-phobes.
“Are y’all havin’ a good night?” I ask the crowd as I tickle the keys on the piano and smile when the room erupts into applause and cheers. “I am too. Let’s give the owner, Callie, and the staff of The Odyssey a big round of applause for making this place so beautiful.”
My eyes link with Callie’s as the crowd cheers loudly. She smiles and waves, then simply lifts a perfect eyebrow in my direction.
God, I love how sassy she is.
“I’d also like to send out a little hello to some of my family in the audience this evening.” I smile down at Eli, Kate and Charly. If any of my family takes the time to come to a show, I take a minute to thank them. “And this here’s gonna be the last song this evening. It’s one of my favorites. Thanks for listening tonight, friends.”
I move easily into a slower rendition of Adele’s Set Fire to the Rain, loving the lyrics, losing myself in the melody. And when it’s done, I stand and wave, give one bow, then climb off the stage and head straight to my family.
“Hey,” I say and kiss Kate’s cheek, then Charly’s, and give my brother a man-hug. “Thanks for coming.” Then I turn to Charly’s date. “Who are you?”
Charly rolls her eyes. “God, you’re such a man.”
“I’m a brother,” I correct her, still holding the stranger’s gaze with mine. He’s not as tall as me or Eli, but then few are. At roughly six-foot-four, we’re taller than most. He’s dressed smartly, like an accountant or a lawyer, in a dark button-down and khaki pants.
And, because she’s Charly, and this is her type, he has dark blond hair and light eyes. “I’m Declan.”
“This is Harrison,” Charly says.
“Can I call you Harry?” I ask with a smile, but Harrison doesn’t smile. He simply says, “No.”
I glance over at Eli, whose eyes are narrowed, and he gives a small shake of his head.
Harrison won’t be around long.
“Okay then. I hope you enjoyed the show.”
“Not my usual type of music, but you’re very talented,” the rude and stuffy Harrison replies.
My eyes meet Eli’s again, and a whole conversation takes place in the matter of two seconds.
Can I deck him?
Not worth it, man.
“We need to go soon,” Kate says with a smile. Her green eyes look happy as she tosses her red hair over her shoulder and gazes up at Eli. “We fly out early tomorrow morning.”
“Where are you headed?” I ask.
“Aruba,” Eli replies with a satisfied smile. “Kate and I have earned a vacation.”
“I’m going to sit on the beach and read a book.”
“Under an umbrella,” Eli adds and drags his hand down her hair. “And after I’ve had my way with you.”
“Ew,” Charly says, scrunching up her nose. Harrison simply clears his throat and shuffles his feet.
He’s wearing Chucks. With khakis.
We won’t have to run him off. Charly won’t be okay with that.
“I’d like to make it an early night, too,” Charly adds. “I’m working tomorrow.”
I lean down and hug my sister tight, then whisper in her ear, “I don’t like him.”
“Me either,” she whispers back, and smiles up at me as I pull away.
Good.
Goodnights are said, and I make my way over to the bar. The crowd has thinned significantly, and now just a few people are left, from the sounds of it most of them are on the roof enjoying the cool fall evening and the view.
Callie’s manning the bar alone. She’s still in her killer pink heels, but she changed out of the cutoffs and tank into a killer little black dress that hugs her in all the right places.
She has great tits and ass, but she’s more slender than I usually like. There is nothing soft about her, which suits Callie because she’s not a soft woman. I don’t know her well, yet, but I know that she’s strong, in charge, and she’ll kick ass when needed.
God, she’s adorable.
I get comfortable on a stool and grin when she makes her way down to me.
“Whiskey?” she asks with cool eyes, and no hint of a smile. I ordered a whiskey not long after she took over, before renovations started, and I could tell then that it irritated her.
“How about a shot of tequila tonight? If you’ll do one with me.”
Without missing a beat, she reaches for two shot glasses and pours the clear liquid—the good stuff—and hands me one, then clinks her glass to mine. “To one hell of a night.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
We shoot our drinks, and then she holds the bottle up. “Another?”
“Sure.”
She pours me more, but not herself. “You’re not joining me?”
“I’m driving,” she replies with a smile.
“Where do you live?” I ask.
“Not close enough to walk,” she replies and washes out her glass, then puts it away.
“You have beautiful eyes.” I lean my chin on my hand and watch her bustle about. I’m the only one at the bar now, and I admit I like having all of her attention.
She bats her eyes. “Thanks.”
“The rest of you isn’t so bad, either.”
“Back at you,” she says and laughs. “You’re ridiculously attractive.”
This gets my attention. Not that she didn’t already have my attention.
“You think I’m hot?”
“I said attractive,” she replies and rolls her eyes.
“Okay, what do you find attractive about me?” I take the shot she poured me and set the glass down, shaking my head when she offers me more.
“I seriously doubt you need me to feed your ego,” she says and chuckles.
It’s been entirely too long since anyone fed my ego because every time I consider taking someone home, a certain blond bar owner pops in my head.
It’s ridiculous.
“Humor me.”
She sighs and leans on the bar, then rakes her killer eyes up and down me. “You have nice hands. I like that you’re tall. And your teeth are straight.”
I stare at her for a long minute, then bust up laughing. “You like my hands, my height and my teeth.” I shake my head and then laugh some more. “M
y ego is safe, sweetheart.”
She’s smiling now, and that just about knocks me off my stool. Jesus, she should smile all of the time.
“You have a killer smile.” I scratch my nose and lean my chin on my hand again, watching her. “I want to bury my hands in your hair and feel how soft it is. And your legs have to be the sexiest I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re charming,” she says cautiously, but her cheeks are pink and her smile is back.
“I’m honest.”
“Can’t fault a man for being honest, given how rare it is these days.”
“I’m taking you to dinner, Callie.”
Her smile doesn’t slip as she cocks a brow again. She takes a long minute to reply, holding my gaze, and finally, as if she mentally thought why the hell not, she says, “You can pick me up at six on Monday.”
“I’m gonna need to know where you live to do that.”
“I’m staying with Adam for a while.”
I tilt my head and consider her. Adam is more of a player than I am.
“He’s my best friend.” She doesn’t look away or blink, doesn’t explain herself further, almost daring me to accuse her of sleeping with him, and I simply nod.
“I’ll pick you up at six on Monday.”
“Don’t be late.” And with that she saunters down to the other end of the bar to pour a beer for a customer.
I won’t be late.
***
What am I doing? I’m being an idiot, that’s what I’m doing. I’m waiting outside The Odyssey for Callie to finish closing up so I can escort her to her car.
What is this, 1945?
I sigh and lean against the building. No, it’s the French Quarter, and it’s dangerous at night, and I’ll be damned if Callie walks to her car alone this late.
A few moments later, the woman herself steps outside and sets the alarm, then locks the door and jumps about three feet into the air when she turns and finds me standing here.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I almost maced you,” she says and covers her chest with her hand, panting.
God, I want to make her pant like that for entirely different reasons. Just the thought of it has my cock on high alert.
“Sorry,” I say again and try to think of dead puppies and spaghetti to calm my dick down.
“Why are you here?”
“To walk you to your car,” I reply and fall into step beside her.
“That’s very chivalrous of you, but I’m fine walking a block by myself.”
“Yes, you carry mace.” I smirk, and then laugh when she bites her lip guiltily. “Let me guess. You don’t really have any mace.”
“I could stab someone with my heel,” she suggests and I can’t stand it. I have to touch her, so I take her hand in mine and kiss her knuckles.
“You’re adorable.”
“No. I’m not.”
She is.
“Okay.”
“My car is right there,” she says and speeds up, trying to pull her hand away, but I don’t let her go. Not yet.
“I like it.” She drives a ’68 Camaro. Jesus, I might have to marry her.
“So do I.”
She unlocks the driver's door, but before she can open it, I turn her and lean in, her back against the door, my body inches from hers. I feel the heat coming off of her, I can smell the fruity shampoo she uses, and it’s a big boost to my ego when she takes a long, deep breath, then braces her hands on my hips.
She’s not pushing me away, so I take that as a good sign.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Calliope.”
“How did you know my name?” she whispers, those ice blue eyes pinned to my mouth.
“Adam,” I reply.
“He’ll pay for that. I hate that name.”
“I like it.” I lean in closer and drag my nose down her cheek, breathing her in. God, she’s more potent than the tequila. “It’s pretty and unusual, just like you.”
“Is that a compliment?”
I grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her hands travel up my sides, over my shirt, and fist over my ribs, gathering the cotton tightly as my left hand glides down her side to her ass.
“I like your height too, you know,” I murmur. “When you’re in heels like this, I don’t have to practically bend in half to reach you.”
“Happy to oblige,” she whispers. She’s still gripping onto me, but she’s not leaning in to me, as if she’s waiting to see where I take this.
And if we weren’t in the middle of the street, I’d fuck her brainless. Right here.
But instead, I let my lips drag up her neck and then hover over mouth, barely touching her. “If you’re going to push me away, do it now.”
She doesn’t push me away. Instead, she pulls me in, and our mouths take over, nibbling, exploring, enjoying.
I could kiss her all damn night.
And I will.
But not tonight.
Before I boost her up and bury myself inside her for all of God and the whole French Quarter to see, I pull back just a bit and turn the kiss from hot to sweet. She purrs.
She mother-fucking purrs.
And then, she lets go of my shirt, drags her hands down my sides, and with a cocky smile on those full red lips, she grabs my ass, her nails digging in just enough to bite, and tugs on my lower lip with her teeth.
Without moving away, I leave my lips on hers and say, “Monday.”
Then I pull back and stand on the sidewalk as I watch her lower herself into her car, cool as a damn cucumber, and drive away.
Jesus, she’s going to be fun in bed.
Chapter Two
~Callie~
“Up or down?” I ask Adam as I rush out of my bedroom to where he’s cooking something that smells just nasty in the kitchen.
Adam never could cook worth a damn.
“What you do with your pants is none of my business,” he replies, not looking at me at all.
“You’re a riot. My hair, Adam. Up or down?”
“I don’t care.”
“Look at me!” I’m still in my cami and yoga shorts and Declan is going to be here in fifteen minutes. Adam turns from the stove, his eyebrows raised. His light brown hair is a mess, he’s shirtless and barefoot, wearing only old ripped jeans. I tug my hair up into a messy knot, then let it fall around my shoulders. “Up or down?”
“Umm, down?”
“Okay, good. I don’t have time to pin it anyway.” I turn and run back to my bedroom and stare at the six outfits I have spread over my bed. “Do you think it’s gonna be a casual dinner?” I yell out at Adam.
“How in the hell should I know? I’m not dating Declan.”
“But he’s your friend,” I yell back. I suppose I could go middle of the road with a pair of black capris and a blue peasant blouse. I pull them on, then walk out to the kitchen. “Does this shirt show too much cleavage?”
“Cal, we really need to find you some girlfriends. I’m not qualified to answer these questions.”
I spin and head back for the bedroom after throwing Adam the bird and quickly change out of the blouse and into a red, sleeveless button down, then return to the kitchen.
“Better?”
“Callie, they’re both fine.”
“I don’t want fine,” I reply with a scowl. “I want sexy.”
“I’m really the wrong person to ask. You’re practically my sister. I don’t want to have sex with you.”
“I’m relieved to hear it,” I quip and turn a circle, showing off the open back. “I can’t wear a bra with this one.”
“Jesus, Callie,” he says, a pained look on his face. “It’s the first date. At least start it out with most of your clothes on.”
I cock a brow. “Are you preaching to me about keeping my clothes on, Mr. I Walk Around The Apartment Mostly Naked?”
“I’m not on a date.”
“You don’t date.”
“Exactly.”
??
?I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore!” I groan and stomp back to my bedroom, changing into a baby blue cami with a pretty chiffon see-through blouse over the top and return to the kitchen. “This is pretty and not slutty.”
“I didn’t say you were slutty before,” he replies, but stops chopping and looks me up and down. “That works.”
“Okay.” I smile, dance a little jig, and run back to my room for my black heels and handbag, then return to the kitchen to put on my jewelry.
“You’re excited about tonight,” Adam says casually while completely destroying an innocent stalk of celery. “What changed your mind about Declan?”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t seem like you liked him, and now you’re going out with him.”
“It’s been a while since I went out on a date with a reasonably attractive man,” I reply, not giving away that there’s something about Declan that pulls at me. “A girl’s entitled to want to look pretty.”
“Well, you do,” he says and sighs. “Look, it’s none of my business who you date. I like Declan, and we go back a ways. But he’s also a bit of a player. Not as bad as me, because well, I’m me, but he goes through his share of women.”
I cross my arms and grin at my friend. “I love you too. I’m not marrying him, I’m letting him buy me food.”
“And letting him talk you out of that blouse.”
“Maybe.” My grin spreads as I slip my favorite Alex and Ani bracelets on my arm. “We’ll see.”
The doorbell rings, and I plaster on my completely calm face as I cross to the door and answer it. As soon as I see him, my stomach is full of butterflies on speed and I’m quite sure my upper lip is sweating.
Not sexy, Callie.
“Hi,” I say lamely and grin as I let my eyes wander up and down his long, lean body. I wasn’t kidding when I told him that I love his height. I love that no matter what shoes I wear, he’s taller than me. At five foot nine, that’s rare for me.
His dark hair is just long enough to touch the collar of his T-shirt, and his clear hazel eyes are soft and sexy as they travel up and down my body. He always looks at me just like this, and it makes me crazy.
It makes me want to climb him, and that’s probably not appropriate for a first date.
Damn it.
“You are gorgeous, darlin’,” he says as he takes my hand and kisses my fingers, sending warm currents up my arm. “You’ll be the sexiest woman in the stadium.”