Hide and Seek (2 page)

So here she sat, surrounded by dirty, smelly men, sipping a beer she detested, all in the name of not going home.

Kind of depressing when one thought about it too clearly.

The shrill feedback from a microphone pulled her out of her spiraling depression and made her try to focus on the tiny stage through all the smoke. Squinting, she could barely make out in the half-light four, or maybe five, men setting up what appeared to be some instruments.

Smiling for the first time all week, Josephine settled back on her barstool and relaxed. If there was to be music, maybe she could stay for an hour or more. She had sorely missed music, the thrum and beat of a great piece of soft rock or jazz. The quasi-classical crap most of the bars and cafés she worked in hung around the very bottom rung of the ladder of music, generally being very bad background music in the attempts to deter people ripping the place apart.

Even if the band only played half-decently, it would be a massive step up for her and cheer her up immensely. Finally she had found the perfect thing to get her going through the next week.

Josephine squinted and tried her best to catch a glimpse of the men setting up. They seemed to be the band members themselves, joking and laughing with each other under the din of the patrons. Josephine concentrated on them, soaking up anything exciting and different in her life.

Yet none of this seemed to explain the racing of her heart, the thudding excitement pumping in her blood. She brushed her thoughts aside, assuming anything new and exciting and screaming of
normal
would give her exactly the same reaction.

The great examples of eye candy she could view, even through the dim, smoky bar atmosphere had nothing to do with it, she assured herself.

A minute later, when the band seemed to have settled itself, a main spotlight, followed by a second one, shone on the men, illuminating them.

Josephine felt her breath catch. Had she thought half-decent eye candy? She must be going blind! The men were
gorgeous
. Looking about her, she wondered where the hysterical, screaming women were. Surely a band this sexy would have a dedicated fan base of teeny-bopping, skinny, blonde adoring women?

Yet the patrons had not changed, had barely moved as the opening of a well-known rock song began. Dirty, smelly men for the most part, tired, overworked waitresses, desperate for the tips and money they were making. Smoke curled from numerous cigarettes, and other things she didn’t want to think about, as the patrons continued to drone on and play cards and pool, pretty much oblivious to the band.

It was as she watched the crowd in wonder at their sheer stupidity and lack of taste that she felt the eyes bore into her.

Turning around quickly, she looked once more at the band,
The Howlers
, as they were billed. The four men playing were all definitely handsome by any standard, maybe even truly deserving of the title drop-dead gorgeous, yet Josephine looked more closely at them.

The drummer seemed to be the leader of the group, calling the timing of the song and steadily searching the bar for…what she didn’t know. Someone? Some threat? The saxophone player seemed slightly pissed. He winked at the waitress, raising his eyebrows suggestively. When one particularly young one blushed and nodded at him, he seemed to relax, his temper abated. The vocals man crooned his lyrics, eyeing yet another waitress and blowing a kiss to the one the sax man had already seemed to lay claim to.

It was as her eyes caught the bass guitarist she realized it was he who watched her. As she studied him, memorized his features, she realized the strong similarities between the men could only mean they were related.
Brothers?
She wondered.

The guitarist didn’t stop looking at her, couldn’t seem to take his eyes from her. She took her time looking him over, wanting to be able to identify him later if trouble should erupt.

Let’s be honest with ourselves at least,
she chided herself.

Fine. He’s absolutely stunning, make-your-panties soaked, drop-dead gorgeous and the best eye candy I’ve seen in months, since even before I left
Seattle
. Happy?

The silence in her head had her smiling slightly, the closest she’d come to smiling in a long, long time. The man truly was delectable. It was hard to tell with the drummer sitting down, but she felt certain he was taller than both the guitarist and the saxophone man, and only maybe an inch shorter than the vocals man. He seemed well over six feet, and lean in an athletic way.

Strong, and very sure of himself. He exuded a raw power, different from the drummer, who certainly now seemed to be the eldest and thus in charge, but the guitarist seemed to have his own brand of power. Not the seductive, wicked quality both the vocal and sax men held, but a quiet, rock-like strength.

The bass guitarist caught her staring. When her eyes clashed with his, he grinned hugely, the smile lightening his face and making him seem like some sort of playful god. Strong, self-assured, with a steady, rock-like quality to him. Josephine shook her head. Maybe the light beer tasted awful, but she couldn’t possibly be tipsy from the few sips she had taken over the last half hour or so.

The man’s smile was so infectious, so genuine, Josephine couldn’t help herself, she smiled right back at him, her normal, cheery, devil-may-care grin that always made her feel cheeky and wicked. The man studied her further for a moment and then nodded his head, as if he had decided something. He winked at her and paid no attention when the vocals man slapped him on the shoulder in that manly, playful way brothers often have.

The time from then on seemed to pass in a happy, carefree blur. Josephine no longer cared that the bar stank, that the beer tasted repulsive or that the clientele was not exactly safe. She sat and watched the four men interact and jibe each other, singing to the crowd and entertaining themselves, if not some of the patrons.

After their set, the tall bass guitarist headed towards her. His stride, confident and strong, made her quiver, whether in nerves or excitement she didn’t know, and didn’t particularly care, either.

He glared at the man next to her until he mumbled something rude and shifted to the next barstool away from her.

The man sat down and grimaced at her beer.

“It’s awful stuff, I know. I do not recommend it at all.” She stopped, wanting to kick herself the second the words left her mouth. Surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to think she was warning him away or something? Before she could rush on and make a bigger fool of herself, her guitarist smiled and spoke to the bartender.

“A Coke for me and the lady will have…?”

Josephine smiled at him. “A white wine spritzer please.”

The man nodded at the bartender, who shrugged and moved to get the drinks.

“I’m William Rutledge. What are you doing in such a dive?”

Josephine smiled. If she hadn’t spent the best part of the last hour watching him interact with his brothers, she’d be pissed at his bluntness. Yet she had learnt a bit about him in the last hour.

He was a bit rough around the edges, one of those men who used gruffness and blunt, tactless comments to show he was concerned or cared. As she would never see him again and didn’t really want to pick a fight, she decided to verbally spar instead of start a drag-out fight with him.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she glared at him, certain her smile would soften the blow, “but I just needed a breather before I went back to my motel room. I’m fairly new in town and didn’t realize what sort of place this was. By the time I did, my beer was already bought, and I refused to waste four bucks, no matter how awful the beer is. When you and your brothers began to set up, I wanted to stick around for the music. It’s been a while since I’ve heard a live band, and the temptation was too good to resist. Do you often play in rat holes like this?”

The bartender set their drinks in front of them, and Josephine watched William take out a few bills and passed them over with a nod.

“My brothers and I play in any number of bars, ones much classier than this, and sad to say, much worse than this.” He shrugged.

Josephine smiled and took a sip of her wine. Just barely, she managed not to choke on it. It was
terrible
. Smiling with a little less brightness, she wondered if she could duck into the restroom and rinse her mouth out with water. She crinkled her nose. Undoubtedly the restroom would be just as dodgy as the rest of the bar.

“Wine not that good, huh?” William smiled gently. When he reached out to touch her thigh, even covered by the black work pants she wore, she felt the electric current run through her, jazzing her as no alcohol or drug ever could.

“What’s happening?” she asked quietly, not even really sure what she was asking. The words had somehow seemed to slip out.

William leaned forward, wrapping one arm around her shoulder and drawing her into his warmth.

“I think we have what is generally called an electric reaction. We’re inordinately attracted to one another, and we are generating a heap of lust and emotions. What’s your name?”

The privacy, the safety and sanctuary she felt in this man’s embrace, a feeling she had not felt at all in any form since that fateful night, enveloped her. She felt lightheaded and dizzy, wondered for a moment if she was about to pass out.

The warmth emanating from this man, the potent feeling that he would keep her safe and shield her from all her troubles was more intoxicating than anything else.

“Jose—”she caught herself just in time, “Joey,
Joey Lane
.” She stammered, shocked to the core she was about to tell him her real name. What was happening to her?

William looked down at her for a moment, his deep, deep blue eyes considering.

“Well, Joey,” he finally said huskily, his voice deepening with his emotions, “will you come home with me tonight?”

Josephine couldn’t believe the desperation with which her body and mind craved to say yes. She was tired, cold, and hungry. She was sick of running, sick of hiding. She hated the life she seemed to have carved out for herself, yet she couldn’t see a safe way out of it. Her logical mind argued this was
not
the time to start an affair.

Yet how could she turn down one night of romping, make-your-panties-wet-screaming sex with this man?

Biting her lip softly, she decided to bargain.

“One night?” she offered tentatively. William’s eyebrow rose in shock. Josephine frowned. Surely this man had offers all the time? With his looks, and the deadly sexiness of his brothers she felt sure he must have women throwing themselves at him constantly. Surely
some
of the women only wanted one-night stands? Before she could really think about it, she learned another important part of William’s character. The man knew how to bargain.

“One night with me getting the option to convince you into a second.”

Josephine weighed the pros and cons. She was scared and running. It was highly unlikely
anything
William could say or do would convince her into a second night.

Looking once more into his face, feeling the warmth of his caring and body heat cover her, she made a snap decision—very unlike her—and nodded.

“One night,” she warned.

William leaned forwards and kissed her. Josephine felt her whole body heat up and explode. Her body temperature went through the roof. His lips, though so very, very soft, pressed against hers, transferred his heat directly into her. His tongue slipped out and laved her lips, begging for entrance.

With a groan she complied, opening her mouth for his possession. Josephine blinked, realized he had drawn her into his embrace and was shielding her from the patrons, from prying eyes. Melting in his arms, against his so-warm chest, Josephine groaned and deepened the kiss, flicking her tongue out to taste him. She simply couldn’t resist.

All too soon, she felt William pulling away. Reluctantly, slowly, with nipping little kisses being strewn over her lips and cheeks.

“I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to do all that here. You’re like a drug in my system.”

Josephine smiled, “A drug, huh? That’s not very romantic for a man with only one night.”

William seemed to signal the drummer who throughout the whole break had stayed by the edge of the stage, watching the band gear and…was she really this paranoid? Watching out for his band-mates? The other two brothers seemed to have disappeared out back with some of the waitresses.

“My elder brother, Artemais,” he said simply, nodding his head towards the man and gave a few quick, easy-to-miss-if you-weren’t-watching hand gestures.

With that, he took her coat from the back of the stool and held it out for her.

Smiling, Josephine turned her back and let him help her into it. As he gently pulled it over her shoulders, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “And that’s one night with the option of convincing you of a second. I can be very persuasive, baby.”

Josephine shuddered at the warmth emanating from him, at the husky, sexy tone of his voice. She turned to look at him. He stood proud and tall, like a knight out of some erotic fairy tale. He was sex personified and she couldn’t wait to begin their one night.