A Good Man

by Rosanna Leo

  She still worried about seeing Michael in a setting outside their renovation work. Ever since he’d told her he wanted to be with her, she’d been on edge, worried about being left alone with him. When he wasn’t in her line of sight, she could continue on the straight and narrow, but when they were alone, it was hard not to surrender to temptation. All week long, she’d been sneaking peeks at him. At the curve of his biceps. At the way his hair curled at the back of his neck. At the sheer perfection of his backside when he walked past. She’d never known a man with such a round ass. It deserved a painting, a sculpture, something. Even top athletes would covet Michael’s ass.

  His physical charms aside, she couldn’t stop thinking about him in general. She and Michael sizzled in ways that were new and exciting to her. She spent her evenings away from him, wondering what he was doing. She woke up in the morning eager to see him. Even Trent had seen Michael’s interest in her from the start. Emily couldn’t deny it any longer.

  They wanted each other. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time, but it remained true. She wasn’t looking for another relationship after barely discarding the last one. Her heart was nowhere close to healing and her mind was everywhere except where it should be.

  It would feel so good to have him touch her, really touch her. Her idiot brain seemed to have commandeered her senses. All she smelled was Michael’s clean scent. All she saw was the crinkle in his eyes when he smiled. His deep voice had taken a home in her ears, as if playing on a loop. Their first kiss had left her reeling and she’d spent several sleepless nights musing over what the next kiss would be like. Would it be rough and demanding or soft and persuasive? Either way, it would happen. She knew it. It was simply a matter of where and when.

  Emily ran a hand over the back of her neck.

  It was a good thing the Bamboo Gigolo would supply her with drinks. She had a feeling she was going to need a couple of cold beers.

  “Are those Michael’s brothers?” Chris pointed toward a small stage.

  Emily craned her neck so she could see over a couple of tall guys in front. Sure enough, Nick and Eli were fiddling with their respective instruments. Nick sat at a drum kit and Eli stood at the front of the stage, adjusting the knobs on his guitar. Or was it a bass? She could never tell.

  Michael, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.

  Eli spotted her and waved them over. “Hey, Emily. Glad you could make it.” He eyed Chris. “This has got to be your brother. You guys could be twins.”

  She introduced them all once Nick walked over.

  After shaking hands with her brother, Nick pulled Emily aside. “Thank God you’re here.”

  “Wow, Nick. Thanks. I didn’t know you were anticipating my arrival so much.”

  “It’s Michael. He’s been an ogre since he got here. Maybe you’ll cheer him up. He always seems to perk up when you’re around.”

  Something fluttered in the vicinity of her heart. “Where is he?”

  He thumbed toward a hallway in back. “Bathroom.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “Nothing that a good shake wouldn’t cure,” said Nick. “My brother’s stressed but won’t admit it.”

  “Is it the work on the house? The days have been long.”

  “No. So far the renovations have been textbook. Besides, we’ve dealt with much worse. His stresses, well, let’s just say they’re different. It didn’t help that Lacey set him off.”

  She asked the question that had been plaguing her since day one of the shoot. “What’s up with Michael and Lacey anyway? I always catch her staring at him and whenever he looks back, I can hear his teeth grating.”

  “Michael and Lacey have history, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

  “I see.” It was disappointing to hear it confirmed.

  What was she thinking? Of course Michael and Lacey would have had a fling. He was a gorgeous, capable man and she put most Brazilian supermodels to shame. Lacey might not have much to recommend her in the personality department, but Emily couldn’t blame Michael for succumbing to her physical charms. Most men would.

  Nick glanced in the direction of the washrooms. “Anyway, it’s not my place to talk about his issues. At least not while he’s in earshot. He’s coming now. See you after the first set.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Even as she murmured those words to Nick, she turned toward Michael. When she saw him, the image of Lacey humping her secret crush flew out of the window.

  In many ways, he was as handsome as ever, dressed in well-fitting jeans and a black T-shirt, but something was clearly wrong. He had never been so pale. Perhaps it was just the bar lighting, causing his skin to appear white against his dark hair. If his mouth hadn’t been tugging downward at the corners, Emily might have believed her own logic. His shoulders sagged too. For a man who carried himself with pride, the change was stark. He appeared half his size. She wasn’t sure, but there might even had been a faint sheen of perspiration on his brow. It was a warm night, but the bar had air conditioning. No one else was sweating.

  Stage fright? It didn’t make sense. Michael had said the band played regularly.

  Her heart lurched as he walked toward her. He didn’t notice her until he was upon her.

  “Em. Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  The twitch of his lips passed for a grin, but barely. “You look good.”

  “Thanks.” It had taken her an hour to choose the outfit, skinny jeans and a black sleeveless top. She’d been obsessed with finding an ensemble that seemed fun without screaming, Michael Zorn, I want you inside me.

  He passed a hand over his brow.

  “Michael, are you feeling okay? You look like you just became close, personal friends with a vampire.”

  “Cute. I’m fine, just tired.”

  Only then did Emily notice the bottle of pills in his fist. “Headache?”

  “Maybe a little.” He sucked in a breath. “I’m glad you’re here. Where’s the poet?”

  Emily brought Michael over to Chris and the others. Before two minutes had passed, one of the guys mentioned sports. Emily happily took a back seat as the four men launched into a discussion of how the Toronto teams were doing this year. Even though she would have normally chimed in with her opinion, she couldn’t remove her gaze from Michael’s face.

  Although he appeared to be listening to the conversation, his eyes glazed at times. Eli asked him a question at one point but he didn’t acknowledge it. He was in his own world, one filled with quiet torment. She wished she could join him there, to take some of his burden.

  Nick elbowed Michael. “Hey, it’s time.”

  As Eli and Nick bounded toward the stage, Emily pulled on Michael’s sleeve. “Are you sure you feel well enough to perform?”

  “Sure, thank you. I’m right as rain. I hope you enjoy the show.” He joined his brothers onstage and picked up a guitar.

  The announcer stood in front of them, clutching a microphone stand. “Welcome to the Bamboo Gigolo. I see a few familiar faces in this crowd and I think I owe most of you money. Luckily, tonight’s band doesn’t have my financial worries.”

  Eli spoke into his microphone. “You owe me a twenty too, Jack.”

  There were some laughs in the audience. The brothers were obviously comfortable on stage and knew many of the people gathered there. As the announcer delayed the set by chatting up a redhead in the front row, Nick pointed to a man in the audience and mouthed something about “beer later.”

  Michael, on the other hand, stood still and stared at the floor. He clutched his microphone stand and seemed to be concentrating on his breathing. Even Emily could see his chest rising and falling with exaggerated breaths. After a couple of minutes, he raised his head and met her gaze.

  When he looked at her, smiling past his hidden pain, Emily knew she was in danger of falling for him. She might have already fallen.

  The announcer’s voice reverberated through the speakers. “Put your hands together for the
Zorn Brothers Band!” He began a hearty round of applause. As the audience settled down, Michael gave his brothers a nod as a cue.

  Emily held her breath, excited to hear his voice raised in song. It was hard enough fighting the allure of a buff man who could build a house, but she had a soft spot for men who could sing as well.

  They opened with Bad Company’s Feel Like Makin’ Love. The audience cheered and she had to smile as well. She’d figured Michael and his brothers were classic rock lovers, but she’d expected them to sound amateur. After all, they weren’t professional musicians, by their own admission. They still managed to blow her away.

  Michael’s voice was deep and warm with a touch of gravel, just the sort of voice she could listen to for hours. When Eli sang with him, completely in sync with his older brother, the harmonies gave her tingles. As he sang and played guitar, he seemed to reenergize, and Emily suspected his love of music kept him going. Equally talented, his brothers kept perfect time. Nick provided a strong percussion line and Eli plucked out a backdrop for Michael’s melodies on his bass. It was as if the men had been playing together all their lives. Perhaps they had.

  By the time they got to the end of the song, she wished it wasn’t over. It didn’t hurt that every time Michael sang about making love, he looked at her. The attention wasn’t overt, a quick glance here and there, but it still made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

  The crowd showed its appreciation with wild clapping and several hoots. When Michael pushed his guitar off to the side of his body and grabbed the microphone stand, the audience grew quiet. He paused until the sound died down, took a couple of breaths and launched into the opening to Hey Jude by The Beatles.

  The audience went nuts. Emily and Chris traded looks, amazed at the reaction. She couldn’t blame them. With his brothers playing quietly behind him, his voice seemed even more powerful.

  For the first time in her life, she wished she smoked cigarettes, just so she could hold up a lit lighter.

  When they got to the chorus, Emily realized why the audience reacted with such enthusiasm. The Zorn brothers encouraged the bar patrons to sing along with them. Emily joined in as well. By the time they sang “Na na na na,” the volume had grown to such a level, she thought the roof might pop off.

  “They’re really good,” Chris shouted, trying to be heard over the music.

  Before the song ended, Michael stood back and stopped singing, no doubt catching his breath. With everyone else singing, it hardly mattered, but it caught her attention.

  Now that the lights were focused on him, the paleness of his face became more pronounced. His skin had all the glow of a well-used ashtray.

  Still singing, Eli walked across the stage and nodded at his older brother. Michael acknowledged him, took a breath and walked back to his microphone stand. He joined in on the last few words then brought the song to an end.

  As another round of applause erupted throughout the bar, Emily considered brushing past the other audience members to snag Michael’s attention. He appeared ready to drop. At the very least, he looked as if he could use a break. Before she could act on it, the band started their third song.

  The ominous strains of Pink Floyd’s Comfortably Numb insinuated themselves throughout the packed room. Everyone quieted and Emily bit her lip. It was one of her favorite songs, although Michael wouldn’t have known it. As he sang the opening “Hello,” a tingle danced between her shoulder blades.

  The mood changed immediately as everyone hung on Michael’s words and the haunting minor chords. Emily would have forgotten about Michael’s headache and earlier distraction if it weren’t for his face taking on a pained look. Others might think he was lost in the song, but the darkness in his eyes told her he was hurting.

  His voice grew fainter with each phrase. At the point in the song where he was supposed to issue the anguished scream, he stopped singing altogether and stared at a spot at the back of the club. Frowning, he ceased strumming his guitar. Still and lonely, he resembled a store mannequin.

  Eli and Nick shot looks at each other. They played the last phrase over again to allow Michael a chance to catch up. When he didn’t, his face frozen in harsh angles, Eli took over the vocals.

  People in the audience whispered. Chris leaned over. “What’s up with your friend?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Luckily, they reached the break in the song. Michael snapped out of his funk right before his guitar solo. He blinked, nodded at Eli and joined him as he sang the last part of the chorus. When Michael launched into the guitar solo, hands flying over the neck of the instrument, his mouth tightened in anger. He poured his heart into David Gilmour’s music, twisting and turning it into something all his own. Every chord seemed laced with fury. Each minor interval broke Emily’s heart a little more. Although the audience only seemed to think he was playing the hell out of that guitar, she knew Michael’s heartache manifested in each fraught note.

  She wanted to ease his suffering.

  When the song ended, the crowd applauded. Michael grimaced as he spoke into the mic. “Thanks, folks. Sorry about the momentary lapse. Not enough caffeine today.”

  There was no way he was dealing with insufficient caffeine. She had seen him all day and he’d enjoyed a steady stream of coffee.

  “I hate to break it to you,” said Chris, elbowing her, “but you’re staring at him. Gawk any harder and he’ll get a restraining order.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You know it’s okay for you to feel something for him. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  Chris took gentle hold of her arms. “Remember what Nonna used to say? ‘We are exactly where we need to be.’”

  How could she forget? It had been her mantra her whole life.

  “You met Michael for a reason, sis, and there’s a reason you discovered Trent cheating. Anyone with a fraction of a brain can see you want to be with Michael.”

  “I think all that love poetry has gone to your head. It’s not that simple.”

  “He makes you happy. It’s very simple. Don’t you want to be happy?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Life’s too short for buts, Em. You need to take that man by the hand and do dirty things with him.” He pushed her closer to the stage. “Now be a good groupie and go flirt with the lead singer. The poor man looks as if he could use some inspiration. Or a blood transfusion.”

  Emily was just about to whack her brother when Michael spoke to the crowd again. “We appreciate you all coming tonight. In fact…”

  She waited for him to finish his statement, but once again, he stared with unfocused eyes at the back of the room. This time, he swayed in his place.

  Eli was at his side in seconds. The cymbal crashed as Nick rounded the drum kit and joined them. There was a hushed conversation between the brothers and Eli took the mic. “Sorry, everyone. Our brother seems to be fighting a bad bug. We’re going to have to take a short break.”

  There were some groans in the audience, but Emily heard expressions of sympathy as well. As she and Chris moved toward the stage, Michael’s brothers sat him down in a chair. He hung his head in his hands.

  She knelt before him and put her hand on his knee. “Michael, do you need a doctor?”

  “No.” His voice grated like sandpaper. “I mean, no, thank you. I’m just winded.”

  “There’s no way you can continue tonight.” Eli’s harsh tones brooked no opposition. “I’ll tell Jack.”

  “Eli, don’t,” began Michael. However, it was too late. Eli had already hopped off the stage and was talking to Jack. Michael pulled the pill bottle out of his pocket. “I just need something to take care of this damn headache.”

  Nick whipped the bottle out of his hands. “Listen, Gwendolen. You can’t pop a pill every time you have the vapors.”

  “Gwendolen?” Michael stood but immediately collapsed back into the chair. “Give it back.”

  “Stubborn a
ss.” Nick shoved the bottle deep into his pants pocket.

  Eli returned. “Jack’s begging us not to leave. Apparently he’s trying to impress an investor.”

  “I can sing,” said Michael.

  “You need a doctor and a good night’s sleep,” countered Eli. He took Michael’s guitar and slung it over his own shoulder. “You’ve been running yourself ragged. Nick and I will have to manage on our own, even if we stick to playing instrumental versions of the songs.”

  Emily piped up as the devil on her shoulder whispered in her ear. “Michael should go to the hospital. I’ll take him and make sure someone sees him. When he’s done there, I’ll bring him back to my place so he can rest.”

  Everyone turned to gawk at her. Chris grinned.

  She shrugged, ignoring the look on her brother’s face. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “Em, I don’t need a doctor.”

  She stuck her finger in Michael’s chest. “I’ll believe you when you no longer look like you’re auditioning for Grim Reaper: The Musical.”

  “Ha ha. You guys are all full of jokes tonight.” He scowled but his face immediately softened. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Well, when we get to your place, I’ll take the loveseat,” he was quick to add, glaring at his brothers.

  “I’m sure we’ll figure out the logistics.”

  Eli dropped a kiss onto Emily’s cheek. “Thank you. You’re a star. We’ll fetch him tomorrow morning.”

  She smiled. Nice kiss. Wrong brother.

  Chris handed Emily his keys. “Take my car. I’ll cab it.”

  She hugged her brother.

  Chris whispered in her ear as he kissed her good night. “Remember what I said. Seize the day. Seize the man.”

  “Chris, he’s sick. Look at him.”

  Only when Emily looked at Michael, the heat in his eyes surprised her. Some of the color temporarily returned to his face as his gaze followed the line of her hair and drifted toward her mouth. By all that was holy, one glance from Michael was better than a deep kiss from any other man. Emily’s nipples pebbled under his scrutiny, so she tore her gaze away.