Sweet Seduction Serenade (19 page)

"Tease," I said through a cough.

"Better believe it," came Kelly's answer as she sashayed off to another task across the room. I had to whack Spike on the head with the power cord when he stared at her wiggling butt the entire way.

An hour before the show, with everything well and truly ready to go, the band and I headed out to the office out the back, to have a break, black-with-hot-pink-and-white-writing take-away coffee cups in hand, as the doors were thrown open for the public. Gen wasn't expecting too many until closer to the time, but twenty minutes in, a frantic Jane came out the back and grabbed more coffee cups mumbling something about a stampede.

The build-up to a performance is different for every singer or band I should think. I like a little quiet time to reflect, low conversation, a couple of jokes between the guys and I. Back in Nashville the band was intensely serious about warm-ups and vocal exercises, and although I didn't really mind it - actually thought it not an entirely bad idea - I preferred Gus, Gonzo and Spike's routine. Practice hard out for the weeks leading up to the show, then on the day you just cruise. We'd sung a few songs at my place earlier, we'd tuned our instruments and had a little sound check out in the room before the doors opened. And now we just sat around drinking decaf coffee - caffeine constricts the vocal cords - and talked utter crap.

It was great. I loved it, and for the first time in a long time I felt at ease as we walked out to an obviously packed Sweet Seduction, the sound of excited voices and happy noises meeting our ears as we walked toward the back of the stage. I'd been relaxed, but the excitement of a pending performance and room full of a - hopefully - receptive audience made my heart skip a beat and toes start to tap. This was the best moment of it all. The anticipation. The build-up to the actual event.

The moment I stepped out on that stage I'd assume a persona, I'd perform. Who the audience saw on stage was not entirely me, but she wasn't far off. She was just a little more confident, a little more sassy, and a whole lot more cowgirl-in-the-rodeo-ring.

I held back as the guys went out to their spots, a few people clapped, some people shushed others and by the time they started the first few chords and I stepped out, the room was already in our thrall.

We did our thing. We pulled them in. We played with our hearts and souls behind every note, every word. We told stories about love lost and heartache, we sang melodies to soothe the pain, and then we changed it up and made them laugh. Country music can make you cry, can make you feel uplifted and with a tongue-in-cheek humour, that I truly believe only cowboys can master, can make you laugh.

By the end of the show, two and half hours of hard out performing our little Country tushes off, we'd done it. We'd impressed the darn hell out of the packed room, we'd made them dance and sing, sway and clap, shout and whistle. I wasn't sure who they all were, but Gen was beaming, giving a double thumbs up at the end to let me know it had gone better than expected and the crowd was calling for more.

We came back and did two more songs as a band, but still that wasn't enough. So, I told the guys to leave it to me, I had a song request from my Dad and this was the ideal opportunity. They all smiled and took surreptitious positions to the side of the stage to watch me do my solo.

The applause died down when I pulled the stool I'd used earlier to the centre of the stage and sat down. Adjusting my mike stand to accommodate my lower height while sitting perched, legs crossed, guitar over my knee. When they realised it was just going to be me singing, another impromptu round of wolf-whistles came out from the back. I looked up and smiled, knowing immediately that it was the black-clad ASI guys I'd spotted at the beginning of the show standing along the front of the shop, which was now the back of the crowd. Ben and Adam were the loudest of the lot. I shook my head, amused, looked down at my guitar strings and waited for the noise to subside.

When the room finally grew silent, I closed my eyes, tilted my head to the side and softly said, "This one's for my Dad."

Not a sound was made while I sang the best ever rendition - I think - outside of Garth Brooks, of
Wrapped Up In You
.

When the final words, "
Baby. Completely. Wrapped up in you
" were finished I don't think I was the only one to have tears streaming down my cheeks proving that cowgirls - and a few cowboys I was betting - do actually cry.

I sat still on my seat, borrowed Breedlove hugged to my chest, waiting for the applause to finish, thinking this had been the best night of my life. I was sure we'd get a fair few offers of venues to play at, as well as Gen having a huge boost in interest for her local talent showcase nights. All in all an absolutely perfect end to a tumultuous week. All I had to do was get through the aftermath. Excited fans - most of them new ones - PR related pressing of hands and wheeling and dealing for further gig bookings - although the guys were particularly good at that sort of thing - and facing Derek, if he was still here, and then - excitement inducing thought - Nick.

I slipped down off the stool, placing the Breedlove on its stand, then turned towards the first in the crowd to greet me.

But there wasn't a fan there waiting. Well, not the type of fan I'd been expecting anyway. Derek had climbed up onto the stage and grabbed the microphone from its stand, his cowboy hat tipped back, a nervous but excited gleam in his eyes.

He flashed a predatory smile at me and then tapped the head of the mike twice.

"Are you mental?" I hissed, too late. The static boom that blasted out of the speakers and reverberated around the room had done its job well. The entire Sweet Seduction crowd stopping what they were doing and turning towards the stage.

Derek ignored my hiss and straightened his shoulders, making himself appear broader than before. Taller and more imposing. He sure did make a good cowboy impression up here on the stage, but I knew I was not going to like what he had to say. I just
knew
he was going to shame me in front of everyone, because I had dumped him for another man.

"Everyone, can I have your attention please," he said in his low Tennessee twang, the speakers squealing slightly with a little feedback. He repositioned the microphone and carried on as though the ear splitting sound hadn't even happened. I cringed along with the audience. "I have an announcement to make."

"You have got to be kidding me!" I exclaimed in a harsh whisper, still stuck on the fact my soon-to-be-kind-of-ex-boyfriend had
climbed up on the stage
next to me.

His jaw clenched and his fingers tightened around the mike, bringing my eyes to the motion and making me realise he wasn't quite as in control of his emotions as he appeared. Derek was winging this and it looked like he had a lot pinned on the outcome.

I stepped towards him and wrapped a hand around his forearm, getting up on the tip of my toes to whisper in his ear.

"Don't do this," I begged. For me. For him. This was not going to end well.

"Go on, Eva! Let the man say his piece," someone yelled from the back of the room, clearly having heard my whispered plea. Damn sensitive microphones. I ignored them, keeping my eyes on the tipped down face of Derek - his own determined eyes on mine.

"Please, Derek. Let's go out the back and have a chat.
In private.
" I stressed the last sentence.

"What are you afraid of, babe?" he said softly, the sound of his words carrying smoothly over the open mike. "You knew this was coming."

No. I didn't. I thought he was better than this. This here was definitely not "cowboy".

"Speak!" someone - maybe the same someone of before - yelled from the other end of the room. "Get on with it!" they added for good measure.

"Don't," I attempted again. Last ditch effort.

A waste of darn time.

Derek stood upright again, my hand falling uselessly off his arm. Maybe I should have just walked of the stage, headed out the back in the hopes he would follow. I certainly shouldn't have just stood there and waited for him to embarrass me. But I was frozen to the spot. My eyes vacantly scanning the crowd. Looking for the only other person who mattered right now.

I couldn't find Nick though, he seemed to have disappeared. Relief mixed with desperation coursed through my veins.

"Didn't she do well, folks!" Derek's voice boomed out over the speakers. The crowd inside Sweet Seduction went wild. Clapping, whistling, hollering their support of the act and in particular me. I smiled in thanks, but my lips felt stiff. My face about to crack from the strain.

My head automatically dipped down so I could frown at the ground.

"I've been in love with this little lady for quite some time," Derek said making me suck in a breath of air and feel heat flush up my face. I closed my eyes and prayed for the ground to swallow me whole. "For the past three months I've missed her every day. Tennessee's just not the same without her." He turned sideways to the crowd, so he was facing me directly on the stage.

"Evangeline Rowe," he started, but I was shaking my head, anticipating the humiliation about to grip me.

"Derek," I said in one final pleaded whisper, but all that met my eyes when I lifted my face was his beaming cowboy smile. One that used to make my stomach flip delightfully, but now didn't even cause an increase in my heartbeat - it just confused the darn hell out of me.

"Eva," he said, taking a step closer. "I'm in love with you, babe and I know you are too. Let's make it official. Let's shout it to the world. Starting here today in your hometown and finishing up in Tennessee, where we're gonna live together for the rest of our lives." What the darn hell?

"Derek," I managed to get out in a strangled squeak, a weird combination of relief and mortification at the situation drowning me. The audience applauding in the background, the lights on the stage making a sheen of sweat coat my skin.

Someone yelling, "Kiss her!"

Someone else yelling, "You've got a nerve, cowboy!"

And all I could think of was to run. Hide. Get away. But I was too late, he crossed the final distance between us, engulfed me in his arms and crushed his lips to mine.

I was vaguely aware of an increase in volume from the crowd, movement off to the side, but mainly the feel of Derek's mouth pressed hard against mine. His tongue trying to gain access inside, but my body stiff as a board, from my head to my toes, including my squeezed closed lips. His fingers wrapped up in my hair as he ground his mouth against mine, his hard body pressed tight against me, his arms bands of steel encasing my body; trapping me, engulfing me, imprisoning me.

But I somehow managed to get my hands between us, and in a daze of incredulity at him having done this at all, let alone in front of this crowd, I started to push back against his chest with all my might.

How dare he? This was embarrassing and humiliating and way out of line. To assume I'd want this public show of affection. When had I
ever
given him reason to believe this type of behaviour was all right?

Suddenly I was yanked out of Derek's arms. How my rescuer managed to free me, I don't know. Because Derek had been holding on with everything he had, as though any weakness in his embrace would reflect the weakness in our relationship, which I was sure deep down inside he knew existed.

"I think the lady does not reciprocate," Detective Pierce ground out, totally surprising me as my knight in shining armour right now.

"Who the hell are you?" Derek shot back, his face flushed red, but although the same deep colour as mine, I was thinking for entirely different reasons.

"Why don't we take this somewhere private?" Pierce asked reasonably.

"Why don't you back off and let me hold my girl?" Derek looked as though he was about to explode. If I thought this situation was cringe worthy before, I couldn't see it improving now.

The crowd watched on eagerly, anticipation and amusement evident on the faces I glimpsed from the corner of my eye. But more alarmingly, a ring of black clad men was surrounding the edge of the stage. ASI had moved in.

"I think you need to calm down," Pierce replied steadily. "Why don't we take this some place private," he repeated.

Derek hesitated, obviously becoming aware of the shift in tone in the room. The crowd no longer egging him on jovially, but with our security detail surrounding us, a buzz of alarm had swept through the room.

"Derek, let's head out the back to talk," I said softly, in an effort to minimise the damage about to occur.

"Come on," Pierce said, taking a step towards Derek, trying to herd him off the stage I think.

"Eva?" Derek asked uncertainly. "You wanna tell me why this guy is coming between us?"

  Darn it all to hell, why couldn't he just step off the stage? Why did he insist on having this show-down right here, with an audience. With the ASI men all watching, eagerly awaiting an opportunity to rub it all in. Anyone who had been watching the band's performance tonight and were going to offer us a gig, were probably rethinking that now. And all because of Derek being a Neanderthal cowboy, throwing his weight around to prove he was a man.