The Sirens of SaSS Anthology

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The Sirens of SaSS Anthology Page 47

by Anthology


  He pulled his car into a parking spot and got out to walk around to open her door, as he normally would. She didn't rise immediately, and he stuck his head in with his brows pinched together. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m surprised, is all. I should've dressed more casually.” She looked down at her skirt-and-blouse ensemble, and his dress pants and button-down shirt. They were going to stand out.

  “No worries, you look lovely.”

  And stand out they did, to her mind. Everyone around them wore jeans and T-shirts. There was the occasional dressy top, but always paired with jeans. She tried to let the discomfort go because no one seemed to care after a cursory glance in their direction. She sat and leaned back against the comfortable booth seat, and relaxed. “What's with the new place?” The décor was a little on the country side of things. Not to her taste, but it had a homey feel, allowing her to relax even more.

  “What do you think of it?” Bernard looked around.

  “Not bad.”

  “Great, I hear the food is outstanding, and I was in the mood for a delicious steak.” He rearranged the cluster of condiments in the middle of the table, then moved them off to the side. “Oh, and there's live music tonight.” He nodded across the room to a small stage in the corner where a woman and a man set up equipment.

  Please don’t let it be jazz.

  They ordered drinks and dinner, and while they waited, the musical duo introduced themselves and started singing. The man played the guitar and sang soft background vocals while the woman belted out songs. It was mostly country, and nothing she recognized, but it was a fun atmosphere.

  As she and Bernard ordered dessert, the couple said they were taking a break, but there was a friend of theirs in the house, and he would sing a song or two for everyone. “You're in for a real treat, I give you…Devon Mann, from...” The woman screamed out the last part, trying to be heard over the screams, screeches, and murmurs from the crowd, but Aria didn't catch where he was from.

  A man hopped up on the platform with his back to everyone—and a fine back it was—this got her attention. He lifted a guitar from the back wall and tuned it a little. The chords he played were somewhat familiar. She'd heard them before, but couldn't say where. Maybe once he played the whole thing, she could place it.

  Devon turned around to face the audience, and there were some whoops and hollers, and had she let out a sigh? The man across the room was gorgeous, so not her type, but wow.

  “He's an attractive fellow, don't you think? The television doesn't do him justice,” Bernard said.

  She couldn't stop gawking at Devon Mann. He strummed the guitar, leading into a slow melody. He was sexy as hell in his movements, and with his shirt rolled up to his elbows, she could see tattoos on his right arm. Usually that didn't do it for her, but on him? How had she not have known of this person before? Her heart was beating hard against her chest.

  “Aria?”

  “Uh, yeah sure, he's not bad looking.”

  Bernard chuckled. “You can admit it, I won't be upset.”

  She pulled her gaze away from the musician and toward Bernard, who now looked all kinds of plain. “Okay, I admit, he's very attractive.” She grinned ear-to-ear and went back to looking at the eye-candy.

  “I figured you liked him with as much as you play his music.”

  “What?” She swung around to stare at him. “I listen to his music?”

  Bernard nodded, watched her for a moment, and laughed. “All the time. How do you not know that?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I hear songs I like and ask Marcy to add them to my playlist since she knows a lot about music.”

  The first song ended, and Devon smiled a private smile to himself. “I came here tonight to grab a bite to eat, figured I’d sneak in and get a quiet booth, and then sneak out. No such luck, huh?” He chuckled and the patrons laughed with him.

  “Since I'm up here, my dinner companion needs to get his butt up here and help out with this next song.”

  The place went quiet and diners’ heads swiveled around, looking for whomever it was.

  “If you don't come up here, Breck, I'll come get you and drag you up here.” Devon glared to his right as the excitement filled the air.

  The Breck guy took the stage and strapped another guitar over his head while giving Devon a dirty look, but turned his head and smiled at the crowd. They went nuts.

  “Jesus, are they all good-looking?” Aria mused aloud, trying not to pant.

  Bernard laughed. “That's the general consensus of most women.”

  “Wait? What band are they with?”

  Bernard grinned at her, clearly amused. “You're not messing around with me?”

  “No.” She shook her head adamantly.

  “Sinful Souls.”

  “Shit.” Aria dug her phone out of her pocketbook. “Excuse me for a sec.”

  “Sure.”

  Aria fired off a text to Marcy, “You'll never guess who I'm looking at.”

  “Bernard?”

  “Ha-ha smart ass, no.”

  Instead of typing the answer, she waited until the men began to play a song she knew well. It was a song she loved to dance freestyle to when she wanted to let loose. A bit edgy and nothing like the classical music she danced her routines to, but that was precisely why she enjoyed it.

  She held up her cell phone like many of the other patrons in the restaurant, and hit record. The song came to an end, she hit stop, and sent it to Marcy.

  One and a half minutes later her phone dinged with a text. Aria grinned.

  “You lucky bitch! Where are you?”

  “With B, at a bar and grill, can you believe it?”

  “No, I can't!”

  “I gotta go, I'll call you later.”

  “You’d better!”

  When the couple returned from their break, they thanked the men for playing in their absence, and the men thanked everyone for their attention. The place was packed and went crazy. A server came out with to-go boxes and handed it to the guys, who waved and smiled, and walked out into the night.

  “Wow.” It was all she could say.

  Bernard nodded. “Great impromptu performance.”

  Chapter Seven

  Devon and Breck piled into the car, hoping no one from the bar and grill followed them out. They wanted to get their food and leave, following their spur-of-the-moment performance. He loved shit like that, though. It made people smile and have a good time, if only for a short while. Yeah, fun times.

  “You owe me, man,” Breck complained.

  “Oh, come on, you love it.”

  “Ordinarily I do, but I wasn't in the mood tonight.”

  Devon glanced over at his buddy, taking in his surly mood. “Sorry.”

  “Just ask next time.”

  “You okay?”

  Breck hesitated at first, but nodded. “Yeah, some minor family bullshit going on.” The pitch of his voice deepened.

  That tone meant Devon shouldn’t say anything more, so he nodded and cranked up the radio while they headed to his home.

  As the men were sitting down to eat, there was a knock at the door. Breck looked at Devon. “You expecting anyone?”

  “No, be right back.” Devon put his food down and strode to the door. Peeking through the sheer curtain on the window near the door, he struggled to keep from cursing.

  His bandmate, Troy, stood outside holding Cindy's hand as she stared at the front door, but Troy was looking directly at him.

  “Shit,” Devon breathed. He moved out of sight, hand on the knob, then he dropped his head forward until his forehead met the door.

  Someone knocked again.

  “Hey, is everything all right?” Breck put a hand on Devon's shoulder.

  Without moving, Devon sighed. “Troy and Cindy are here.”

  “Shit.”

  “Exactly what I said.”

  “You gonna ignore them?”

  “No, I needed a minute to get
it together.”

  Breck looked at him with a frown; he knew of their history in great detail. “Do you want me to go?”

  “No.” It was a simple word but the desperation in it took him by surprise.

  “All right, man. I'm here for you. Gonna go back to my food.”

  Face still pressed against the door, Devon said, “Ok.” Once he heard Breck walk away, he stood straight. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the door open just as his friends were turning to leave. “Hey, guys. What's up?” Thankfully, his voice was strong.

  Troy’s and Cindy's heads turned, and they both smiled.

  “We didn't think you were home. Good to see you. It's only been a couple weeks, but it feels like forever.” Troy was before him, hand out.

  Devon grasped it, and they shook hands. Slowly, hesitantly, Devon glanced next to his friend and saw Cindy.

  Her smile was weak, but she stood tall and strong. And beautiful.

  He admired her strength, his heart thumped in his chest, and his breath quickened.

  “Did we come at a bad time?”

  Devon tilted his head at her words. “What do you mean?”

  “You took a long time to answer the door,” she said, quietly.

  “He was most likely taking a shit, leave the man alone.” Troy chuckled.

  Devon nodded and let out a sigh of relief. “So, what brings you two by?” Lacking the strength to invite them in, he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

  “Oh, sorry! Do you have company?” Cindy stared at the door as if she could see through it.

  “I do.” He should've told them it was Breck, but he bit his tongue and went to sit on the large Adirondack chair on his porch. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the wooden swing hanging across from him.

  The couple sat down, hands still entwined. It had to be just as uncomfortable for them as it was him; they hadn't spent a lot of time with just the three of them alone in the past two years. “You taking care of my girl?” Devon asked.

  “Your girl?” Troy's head jerked up, and his words were a bit on the defensive side.

  Devon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked at them while tension filled the air. “Let's not pretend this isn't awkward for any of us, and let's get to the point. But first, Cindy will always be my girl; she'll never be my lover, but always my girl. We have a history, but you two have a future.

  “You, Troy, will always be a good friend. Nothing will change those two facts, even after all the pain I've gone through, because yes, this wasn't easy for me. I can't imagine this has been easy for either of you, but you had each other to lean on. I've had no one.” Devon heard a cough from the other side of the window.

  Cindy's head popped up to see what he saw—a dark figure behind the curtain.

  “Sorry, I've been away from my dinner date for too long.” Devon chuckled.

  Troy was grinning, and Cindy's mouth fell open, and then she frowned and lowered her head.

  “Nosy motherfucker, come on out. I know you're listening,” Devon hollered at the house.

  Cindy gasped, probably thinking his “date” was a woman, and he was being crude.

  The door opened and the couple stared as Breck walked out.

  “Dude, talking shit about how you went through it on your own. I was here with your sorry ass, every day, hearing you bitch, moan, and whine.” Breck glared at him as he shook hands with Troy and then leaned down and pressed a kiss to Cindy’s cheek. “How have you both been these past couple of weeks?”

  “We're doing well.” Cindy smiled.

  Breck took a step back and leaned against the support post.

  “So, you know everything?” Troy asked Breck.

  “Yep, so trust me when I say he wasn't alone in this.”

  “Yes, you were here for me, and I appreciate that, but you weren't a warm body in my bed that I could cuddle with while I unloaded my feelings.”

  “All you had to do was ask.”

  Devon could hear the smile in Breck's voice, and when he looked up, his friend winked at him.

  “I'll keep that in mind.” He chuckled and nodded, thankful for the tension breaker.

  “Don't get mad at us,” Troy started, “but we came to ask you something.”

  “What?” His defenses went up. It was an automatic reflex for him whenever someone said, “Don't get mad.”

  “Have you dated anyone since...” Cindy trailed off.

  Devon relaxed slightly, since that wasn’t what he expected. He’d thought the worst—them asking him to back off from their friendships.

  “Sure, there have been a few women.” He jumped in before she could say more.

  Breck coughed, trying to disguise a laugh. “I don't think one-night stands count, and there were more than a few, if we're being honest here.”

  “Don't they count?” Devon looked at Troy.

  “No, man, they don't.”

  “Then no, I haven't dated anyone.”

  Cindy's brow furrowed.

  He didn't like that. “Cin, you okay?”

  “I am.”

  “Does he make you happy?” Devon angled his chin toward Troy.

  Cindy looked between Troy and Breck.

  “Don't feel weird, we're all friends here.” He reminded her.

  For the first time since they arrived, Cindy removed her hand from Troy's. She stood, walked to Devon, and knelt in front of him. Putting her hands on his knees, she looked directly into his eyes. “Troy makes me very happy, and I love him more than I can explain. I want you to believe that so you don't have to ask again. I want there to be no doubt.”

  He considered her words for a moment, and dropped his hands to the tops of hers, rubbing her knuckles. “That's all I ever wanted for you, Cin. I want you to be happy.”

  An evil grin spread across her face.

  “Uh-oh, I know that look. What are you up to?”

  Her smile lit up her face, and he loved that she was happy, he'd do anything she asked.

  “We want to set you up on a blind date.”

  Chapter Eight

  Devon sat in the ritzy restaurant and pulled at the tie he wore; he hated ties. He didn't mind dressing up, but ties weren't his thing. He checked his fancy designer watch, last year’s birthday gift from the guys. He didn't wear it much, but this seemed like the perfect time. He’d also spritzed on some cologne his sister sent him for Christmas. Why not go all out? He’d never gone on a blind date before, but Cindy practically begged him to, and what she wanted, she got.

  And his date was ten minutes late.

  The server, whose name tag read Hank, came by and checked on him twice.

  “If my companion isn't here by the time I finish this beer, I'd like the check, please.”

  The gentlemen nodded and walked away.

  Not a minute later, his server led a frazzled-looking blonde his way. Devon kind of hoped it was her; she was a crumpled mess, and adorable as hell.

  Sure enough, Hank led her to his table. “Your dinner companion has arrived, Mr. Mann.”

  Devon stood. “Thank you.” He walked around and pulled the chair out for her. He didn't know her name. It was the only stipulation he put on the outing. She needed to remain nameless until he decided if he wanted to get to know her better. His friends chastised him for it, but he said it was that or the date was a no-go. They gave in quite easily.

  Once the woman ordered her drink, she took a deep breath and relaxed in her chair. “I’m so sorry I'm late. I got all dolled up for you, and then I got a flat on the way, now I'm a mess.” She dropped her gaze to her lap.

  “I'm glad it wasn't anything worse than that.” He smiled. “And thank you for getting dolled up for me.” He pointed to his tie. “This is my version.”

  “I love a man who can wear a tie. Ties are sexy.”

  His smile faltered. He hated ties. She wasn't the woman for him.

  “But you, Mr. Mann, have no need for a tie.” The blonde's cheeks flared bright red, and her
hand went to her mouth. “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud. Shit, I'm so nervous, and the tire thing didn't help. I thought you'd be gone by now. I didn't have your number to call you.” She babbled on, practically all in one breath.

  “You could've called the restaurant,” he suggested.

  Her lips formed an “O”, and she smacked her forehead. “I didn't even think of that.”

  He chuckled. “No worries.” She really was adorable. So far so good, despite the tie thing.

  “Have you ever gone on a blind date before?” He couldn't help but stare at her breasts. They were smaller than he normally liked; he prided himself on being a boob man, although lately it hadn't seemed to matter.

  “Um, no.” Her voice sounded funny.

  Looking up, he realized he had been caught looking—he needed to learn better manners. He was used to the club scene and groupies where they ate the attention up. “Sorry.” He grinned awkwardly. “Me either, I'm a blind date virgin, too.”

  She laughed. “I haven't been a virgin anything in a long time.” She said it matter-of-factly, then paused, blushing. “I didn't mean to say that. Oh my God, I'm having a hell of a time controlling my mouth tonight. I'm so sorry.” She buried her head in her hands.

  “I like your mouth.” Her tongue poked out and licked at the corner of her lips. “It's refreshing.”

  He knew that this was someone he would normally bring home and fuck, but would he go out with her again? That question needed to be answered before Devon would ask her name. He didn't learn much about his one-night stands, and never cared enough to learn their names. It was easier that way, less messy.

  As if she had a clue about what was bouncing around in his head, she smiled. “Can you explain to me why you don't want my name?”

  He grinned, knowing the subject would come up sooner or later. “No.”

  “Why not? It's an unusual request.” She eyed the glass of water nearby, grabbed it, and took a gulp. “Ah, I needed that.”

  Devon grinned. He'd already drunk from that glass. “You can keep it.”

  “Oh no, was that yours?” Her cheeks turned red again.

 

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