Shake, Rattle and Roll: The Baxter Boys #4 (The Baxter Boys ~ Rattled)

by Charles, Jane

  How the hell did they know how Christian and I spent the afternoon? Some of his friends may have been there but they weren’t with us. Unless Mary put it all together since we did walk off together and his buddies didn’t find him until about three hours later. Three hours that he’d spent with me.

  The band gets back up on the stage and pick up their instruments and Zoey leans over. “Just don’t hurt our baby,” she says quietly.

  I’m more afraid of it being the other way around, but I say nothing.

  6

  She’s gone! When the final set was done, Bethany had still been at the table with the girls, but by the time I made it through the crowd and to her table, the chair she’d been sitting on is empty. Her second glass of wine is still half-full, but the girls had devoured all of the cheese bread. I kind of wish they would have left me a piece. I’m starving.

  Fuck!

  The bar closes in an hour so it wasn’t like last call and she was forced to leave. Plus my friends are still here. Maybe Bethany was just being polite when she accepted my invitation, but didn’t really want to talk to me. That would explain why she came in late.

  The waitress stops and I order a beer and try not to sulk. I was really looking forward to spending more time with Bethany, even if I didn’t know what to say to her.

  “Why so glum?” Mia nudges my shoulder.

  “Tired.” I’m not telling them the truth, but I’m pretty sure they could guess. I just don’t want to listen to any teasing right now.

  “Great playing tonight,” Zoe says.

  “Thanks,” I mumble. Damn what did I do or what could I have done?

  I had girls offering themselves up a little bit ago, but I didn’t want them. The one I want to spend time with bolted before I could come over.

  “Bethany seems nice,” Joy says while watching me with curiosity.

  “Yeah, she is.” Except she isn’t into me enough to hang around.

  The waitress puts the beer in front of me and I take a deep drink. It’s probably for the best. After all, I’m leaving on Monday and will be gone for two weeks, longer if I have a lead on Scarlett. It’s not a good time to start anything with anyone anyway.

  “What is it about contractors that when they design a bar they don’t take into account that more than four women may need to pee at the same time.”

  I turn to find Bethany coming toward us and everything is right again. All she had to do was pee. Sweet!

  I guess she didn’t know I was there because a moment later she looks at me and her eyes go wide as a blush spreads on her cheeks. Is she embarrassed because she had to pee or because she just announced it to me? It’s not like it’s not something we all have to do daily.

  Standing I offer my chair.

  “No, you keep it. You were on your feet all night. I’m sure you’re tired.”

  I was beat when I got to the table and she wasn’t here, but not anymore. Instead, I grab an empty chair from another table and drag it over.

  “How ya doing?”

  “Good. You?”

  Better now that I know you stayed around. “Glad you could come tonight.”

  “Thanks for asking. It was great.” She takes a sip of her wine. “Sorry I was late though. It took longer to tear everything down than I thought it would and then I was just gross and needed to shower before being in public again.”

  She didn’t really have to explain but I’m glad she did. After all, Bethany was in charge of the event today and is probably wiped out.

  “I’m glad you weren’t too tired to come out.”

  “I didn’t want to miss it.” She smiles shyly and then sips her drink again.

  Even though the sets are done, the crowd hasn’t died down. In fact, it’s getting even louder.

  “Hey, Sucato, you gonna help us or what?” Joey calls from the stage.

  We are supposed to load up the truck tonight because all of our instruments and equipment will be headed west. I could just take mine on the plane, but the drums and amps aren’t exactly carry-ons. The truck is heading out as soon as it’s loaded and should make it to the first stop a little bit after we get there. They guys are fine with their instruments being out of their control, but I’m not.

  “Can you hang out a little bit?”

  “Sure.”

  “But, if you’re tired, I get that and can call you tomorrow. We just need to tear down.”

  “She said she’ll stay,” Mia pipes in. “Go, do your thing. We’ll keep Bethany entertained.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I grumble and get up.

  I glance at them while we are packing and loading and wish I knew what the girls were telling her. Bethany is laughing, a lot, which could be a good or bad thing. Knowing Mia, she’s sharing the most embarrassing things she can remember.

  “Christian has never asked any female to come see him play before,” Joy says as her brown eyes study me. We didn’t really have time to talk before now, except for the fifteen minutes between the sets.

  “Has he asked guys?” I counter. It’s not like I know him well enough to know what he’s into. For all I know he’s bi.

  “No. He’s all hetero,” Zoe assures me with a smile.

  Apparently these girls know Christian a lot better than I do and I get the feeling there is history between them all. Maybe not Mary since she’s only been dating Dylan for a few months, but Kate, Zoe, Joy and Mia know him a lot better. Just how well, I’m not sure but I’d really like to. I don’t think they dated him or they wouldn’t offer up that he’d never asked a girl to come see him play.

  They are probably just good friends. My best friend from grade school and high school was a guy. Mom and Dad had hoped Kelly and I would marry one day and I think they were more crushed than me when it didn’t work out.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  I blink at Mary. “Yeah, why?”

  “It’s like you went somewhere else.”

  A smile pulls. “Just lost in memories, that’s all. Thinking about my best friend, Kelly.”

  “You should have brought her,” Mary says.

  First of all, Kelly is a guy, but I don’t correct her, and even though three of the girls at the table seem to be close to Christian, that doesn’t mean they’d get that a guy is my best friend. “Wish I could but Kelly lives in Portland.”

  “Maine?” asks Joy.

  “Oregon.”

  “In that case,” Joy brightens. “If you want Kelly to meet Christian, she’ll have a chance in about two weeks.”

  “Why is that?” I ask with a frown.

  All of the girls at the table share a look as if they let something out of the bag, or assumed I knew.

  “Christian leaves Monday to tour on the west coast. We just assumed you knew.”

  He was leaving and in a few days? “No, I didn’t.” What was the point in asking me here tonight if he’s going to be gone? Before I can ask any more details Christian is back carrying two music cases and the stage has been cleared.

  He sits back down and grabs his beer and takes a sip before making a face. “Warm.” Then he pushes the cases toward Mia and Mary. “Can you guys take these back to your place? I don’t want to be lugging them around.”

  “Of course,” Mia says all agreeable and stuff.

  “Be careful with them. They are my livelihood.”

  “Like I’d let anything happen to your babies.” Mia gets up and grabs what I think is probably the saxophone case. “I’m headed out.”

  The rest of them stand and Mary grabs the other case.

  “Nice meeting you, Bethany,” they say as they head out, leaving me alone with Christian.

  Well, not exactly alone since the bar is still pretty full, but we are the only two left at this table.

  7

  So, I finally have Bethany to myself. Now what? It’s going on one in the morning so our options are limited even if we are in New York City. “Want to get something to eat?”

  “Sure.”
r />   “What are you hungry for?”

  She kind of shrugs and gives me a half smile. “I’m not really hungry, so you pick.”

  I do need to eat because my stomach was too tied up in knots when I was getting ready to play. Not that playing music makes me nervous anymore. Playing in front of Bethany, however, did. Now, I’m starving and there isn’t even one piece of the cheese garlic bread left for me to munch on.

  “Why don’t we see what’s on the way.” I want to get out of here and away from the noise.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I thought I’d see you home.”

  Bethany frowns and her brows furrow with confusion.

  Did I read her wrong? She was willing to go get food, but isn’t ready to have me back at her place. Not that I intended on going back to her place, as in going back to her place. “It’s late. You shouldn’t be out alone.”

  “You just let your friends leave without your protection.” She points out.

  I lean in and rest my arms on my knees. “Yeah, but they are traveling in a pack. Nobody is going to mess with them.”

  Humor lights in her blue eyes and the corners of her mouth tip up as she leans toward me. “How about if I let you see me home and then I’ll make you something to eat when we get there.”

  Which means, I’ll be invited in and my night, or morning, just got better. I don’t even care if she heats up a can of soup, as long as I get to spend more time with her away from all the noise that currently surrounds us.

  “Let me settle up and then we can get out of here.” We stand and head for the bar. “Where do you live anyway?”

  “Bushwick.”

  Holy crap. She can’t be walking around there in the early morning hours by herself. “And you were going to go home alone?”

  Bethany just rolls her eyes. “It isn’t that bad and no different than anywhere else where a bunch of people live.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve heard stories.”

  “Exaggerated, I’m sure. Besides, bad things can happen anywhere. People just need to not be stupid and remain aware. It’s not like I’m going to walk down unfamiliar dark alleys, which I wouldn’t do anywhere.”

  But she’s still a girl and a hot sexy one at that. Anything, and really bad things, could happen to her.

  “Besides, I love my neighborhood and don’t want to live anywhere else. It’s bright and happy.”

  I give her a side-eye. “You’re surrounded by artists aren’t you?”

  “Yep, and galleries, plus great coffee bars, good restaurants, boutiques. It’s awesome.”

  “Are you an artist by chance?” If she was, then she’d really get along great with my friends.

  This time she laughs. “Only if stick figures count.”

  Okay, not an artist, but it’s not like that’s important.

  We stop at the bar and I grab my wallet. I already know there is a round of drinks on my tab, along with the cheese bread the girls ate, not that I care. It’s my own fault for keeping an open tab with Alyssa.

  I hand over my card and Alyssa takes it, but just stands there like she’s waiting for something.

  “What?

  “An introduction would be nice.”

  “Bethany, this is Alyssa, a nosy friend who likes to run up my bar bill.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Bethany says.

  “Likewise,” Alyssa nods before she heads to the register.

  “Have you guys been friends long? Alyssa and the girls at the table?”

  “High School,” I answer. “Except Mary, because I’ve known Dylan since high school. Mary’s new.”

  Alyssa hands me back my card and the receipt to sign. She’s already added a twenty percent tip. I shake my head and sign.

  “Thanks!”

  “My pleasure,” I grumble, not that it really bothers me. The drinks are kind of cheap here, for being in New York, and I’m not going to short a hardworking bartender and waitress. Besides, Alyssa knows me well enough that I would have sent over a round to my friends, and the bread, if I would have thought of it. But, my thinking hasn’t exactly been right tonight. Hell, I’m happy I didn’t forget the songs we were playing.

  What the hell am I going to cook and why did I offer? Mentally I review what is in my fridge and cupboards and come up with very little.

  Except, I did cook a huge batch of Burgoo yesterday, because it’s impossible to make a small batch, though I could, I guess, but it’s Mom’s recipe and I’ve always been afraid that if I halve it the taste won’t be the same. Once it cooled, I bagged up six servings and put those in the freezer, not that I’ve ever frozen it before, but it was better than throwing out what I wouldn’t be able to eat after I got sick of eating it three days straight. The rest, what I planned on eating tomorrow and Monday is waiting in the fridge.

  Christian grabs my hand and squeezes as we head out of the bar. My fingers and hand tingle at his touch. I squeeze back, though I’m not sure why, but I really like that he’s holding my hand. A few of the girls in the bar notice and practically glare at me. I want to turn around and stick my tongue out at them or yell, “Sorry bitches, he’s mine,” but I don’t dare. I have no clue if he is or isn’t, except for right now. He’s going on tour in a few days and I might never see him again.

  “Subway?”

  “Car.” I grab my phone. It’s not like I take a car all the time, but when I’m heading back to my place late at night, I use one.

  “I hope you are okay with leftovers.” Damn, I wish I did have something I could cook fresh, but actually cooking a meal takes too long, not that I want him to leave quickly.

  Holy crap! Christian Sucato is coming back to my place and I’m going to heat up food for him. Is this really happening?

  “You could toast some bread and spread butter on it and I’d be happy.”

  “If I was going to do something so simple, I’d at least add cinnamon.”

  He leans in. “I like cinnamon.”

  His warm breath tickles my skin and goose pimples pop up on my arms. I just hope I can manage to get him fed before I’m ripping his clothing off.

  What the hell? I never have sex on a first date, yet I asked him back to my place.

  Maybe he expects it, maybe he doesn’t, and I’m not sure it’s smart, even if my body is ready for some fun. I need to listen to my head and not my girly parts. Damn, it’s not just guys who think with their dicks and I’ve got to stop thinking with my vagina and clit, even if it is trying to do the thinking for me.

  Food, concentrate on the food and not his hand, or his warm breath or how hot he is or how close he is. “You’re getting something better than toast. I promise.” At least, I hope he thinks it’s better than toast. It’s my comfort food and the reason I made a batch of it yesterday while getting things ready for the health fair. There are times that I really do miss Kentucky and Mom’s cooking, but not enough to actually move back there.

  We walk away from the crowd around the bar’s entrance. Some patrons are waiting for cars or taxis and others are smoking.

  Christian does make my pulse rush, and my girly parts tingle, but I’m not a groupie looking for a quick and forgettable lay, even if it is Christian Sucato.

  Then again, it is Christian Sucato and I started fantasizing about this guy since I first saw him play. After tonight, those fantasies aren’t going to go away anytime soon.

  “The girls tell me that you are headed out on tour on Monday.” I might as well find out now if this is a one-nighter and I won’t see him again. And, since he wants to go back to my place I assume he’s expecting sex. What else would he think when I made the offer to cook for him? Especially since we don’t really know each other.

  “Yeah.”

  That’s it? Nothing else and why doesn’t he seem excited about it.

  “Oregon?”

  He spears me a look. “What all did they tell you?” The question is almost more a demand.

  Was there something they shouldn’t te
ll me? “Just the west coast. I mentioned that my best friend lived in Portland and they said you’d be there on tour.” Defensive much?

  Christian relaxes. “It’s just a short tour. Two weeks.” He shakes his head. “I found out tonight they added another gig to the schedule. I hope the guys don’t keep doing that.”

  The car pulls up and I double check that it’s mine because it’s so quick.

  Since the car isn’t exactly large, our legs are touching and I’m even more aware of Christian in this small space than I was when he was playing. Heat radiates from him, or maybe I’m just getting hot because I’m sitting next to Christian.

  He stretches his arm along the top of the back seat and behind me and it’s all I can do not to lean into him. Instead, I make sure my seatbelt is latched.

  I have never been so aware of another human being in my life. I’ve been around hot guys on campus, in my classes, at the hospital, and practically everywhere I go, but none of them had made me almost forget to breathe at first sight, or made my pulse hitch. It’s almost primal the way my body reacts when he’s around, as if the single purpose for the two of us to be together is to have sex. Hell, all he has to do is look at me and my nipples get tight and hard. And, it’s completely unexplainable that I’d react this way to a complete stranger, which basically he is. And, no matter how damp my panties get around him, I need to know him a hell of a lot better especially since I saw that hint of tension and suspicion when I mentioned Oregon. Christian may be hot as hell, but if he is even close to being a volatile guy, or something worse, all secretive, I’m not sure I want to get any closer than we are at the moment.

  “Don’t you like touring?” I return to the conversation.

  He shrugs. “Don’t know. I’ve never toured before.”

  “Really?” I would have thought that they’d have played other places. They are that good.

  “It’s not my thing. It’s something the guys want to do. I’d rather not.”

  If he didn’t want to go, then why was he? Then again, maybe he has no choice if they want to get discovered.