He found himself laughing. She made life fun. He’d sat in the club dozens of times and enjoyed the music and food, but he hadn’t laughed. He hadn’t looked around and noted the celebrities or the couples whispering to one another over their drinks. He just hadn’t been alive.
Lana and her brother, Preacher, had come in. Master, Keys and Player followed. His three bandmates were seated at a table near the bar. Lana and Preacher were given a table for four in the shadows but close to the piano, exactly where they had asked to be seated when they made the reservations. Management was very aware one of the Crows Flying members had a special surprise for his lady. They were being extremely cooperative. It wasn’t often they were able to get the band to come in and play.
Crows Flying stayed close to home. They were an internet sensation thanks to modern technology, but they didn’t often take gigs outside of the roadhouse. They recorded, but only for themselves. Since Seychelle had been with them, lending her gorgeous voice, they’d made several new recordings, and all of them had ended up on the internet. For sale. Maestro suspected Code had something to do with it, but he never asked.
“I love music, and good musicians come here to play. I’m in a band called Crows Flying. We’ll be playing tonight; that’s your surprise. Part of it, anyway.”
Her eyes went wide with shock and excitement. “Seriously? You’re going to play here tonight?” She looked around the room again. “Did all these people come to hear you play?”
“We have a small following.”
“Why haven’t I heard of you?”
“We don’t take gigs in too many places. Mostly, the music is online.” He wasn’t lying to her. He was determined to give her as much of himself as he could. There was the sin of omission, but he was certain she would understand once he was able to give her full disclosure.
Her eyes had gone soft, nearly liquid. He loved how she looked at him. He sent up a silent prayer to whatever gods there were in the universe to never take that from him. He craved that look. Needed it. He went to sleep thinking about her and woke up with her on his mind. Always, when he imagined her, she had that look on her face.
“If I forget to tell you, in all the excitement of hearing you play, thank you for the wonderful and unique surprises you give to me. You’re such an amazing man, and the way you treat me is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I love being with you.”
Before he could answer her the waiter arrived, setting their salads on the table. He had already given them both water and told them the wine would be served during the main course. He engaged with the waiter for a moment, giving him time he wanted to give only to Azelie, but he recognized the waiter was a fan of his music. He appreciated those who enjoyed the band’s music, and he wasn’t about to let them down.
He wasn’t a man who easily shared himself with outsiders, but it was important to him to do his part for the band. He knew being friendly and talking to people outside their club wasn’t easy for the others either. Unless they were playing roles, each of them stayed away from outsiders. Their music wasn’t a role they played. Their world was the music. Opening themselves up where they were so vulnerable was disconcerting.
Once the waiter left their table, he picked up his fork and indicated her salad with it. The way she gave him honesty was refreshing. Something he wasn’t used to in women. He’d found that the ones he knew outside of the club had a motive for being with him. It wasn’t about him—it was about them and what he could do for them. He had money. He played in a band. He had massive sex appeal.
“You give back to me more than you could ever know, Zelie. There is a reason I call you my little sunshine. You’ve brought life to me. I feel alive when I’m with you. I swear I didn’t know there was anything but cold and darkness until you came into my life.”
Her eyes had that softness to them he’d come to rely on. She gave a little shake of her head, as if she couldn’t quite believe him. He continued before she could protest.
“I had my music, my woodworking and the men and women that survived the school of horrors. I know that’s far more than other people are gifted with, but I also have so many demons. I just couldn’t trust anyone outside my immediate circle. At first, when I watched you, I couldn’t believe you were true. I kept waiting to see you betray someone. Take a dig at them. Be ugly when the light wasn’t on you. It was difficult to allow myself to believe you were the real deal. That’s why you’re my sunshine. You brought light to me. Hope. Most of all, you made a believer out of me.”
He took a bite of the salad, which he always liked. With her sharing the table and eating the same salad, the flavors were even better. He enjoyed the food much more sharing it with her.
“I didn’t even enjoy sex that much. It was more of a release than anything else. With the kind of work I did, I never turned to drugs, but I did drink in an effort to sleep at night without nightmares. It didn’t work. I just woke up with a hangover and empty bottles strewn around my room. Fortunately, I wasn’t an alcoholic, because it looked like I tried to be. That period didn’t last long, but I’m ashamed to say I did my best to drown my sorrows.”
He got those eyes again. She gave a little shake of her head. “Self-medicating is very common when you suffer trauma.”
He arched one eyebrow. “Did you self-medicate?”
“My mother was an alcoholic,” she reminded him. “Quentin used drugs. I didn’t want any part of either one. I separated myself from the rest of the world as best I could and poured myself into college and the books I was writing.”
“Baby, I just want to point out that you did a crap job of separating yourself from the rest of the world. You have single parents and their children, street kids, three of the funniest older women I’ve ever encountered and two older men who all dote on you.”
She sent him a small smile. “Yes, well, I doted on them but had no idea they returned the feeling.”
She took a deep breath, her gaze clinging to his. He knew her so well now that it was apparent to him she was going to give him another revelation about herself. That was her way. He gave up information and she responded in kind, not wanting him to feel vulnerable. Looking out for him. Bog, he loved that about her.
“I never feel like anyone can love the real me. Or even see the real me. It makes me feel like a fraud. I had to hide my dislike of my brother-in-law once I was old enough to realize he was cheating on my sister, doing drugs, and living off the money she made. Then there’s Billows. I’m working for a man who is part of some criminal ring. He isn’t the only one involved. He has businesses, people who pay into his accounts. Most of them are not legitimate, but I’m doing his books and not telling a soul.” She flashed a little self-deprecating smile at him. “Until you. I have no idea why or how I managed to give you the real me. I don’t know how you see me under all the layers of guilt and survival instincts I have. Of course, I think you do have a tendency to glamorize me. I’m definitely not an angel, and I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“You don’t have to be everyone else’s version of an angel. Only mine. My angel can have a bit of a temper, not that I see many signs of it. But it’s all right with me. If you were society’s standard of perfect, you never would be able to live with me.”
“You always say the perfect thing to me.”
He was grateful she thought so. At least she didn’t think he was a controlling dictator. He spent the rest of dinner laughing with her. He was convinced she could make the mundane fun. Time was running out on him. It would be time to play with his band soon. He could see Player, Master and Keys making their way to the table.
“I’m going to give you a gift tonight,” he said. “I wrote a song for you. It’s yours. I’ll be playing it on the piano at some point.”
Her head went up, and again he got those shiny, liquid eyes. Eyes shining for him. “You wrote a song for me?”
He nodded. “Music is my way of expressing myself. I don’t want you to have any misgivings at all about the way I feel about you. I’ve never written a song for anyone else. I write music and play it, but I’m no lyricist. This is my first time writing words to express my feelings. Usually, it’s all about the music with me.”
“You’re too good to me, Andrii. I have no idea how to keep us equal in giving. I don’t have any creative talent like you do with music.”
He flashed her a grin to cover the real reaction to her genuine response. She was giving him so much already, she just didn’t know. “It could be a disaster. You might hate it.”
“I’ll love it because you wrote it for me.”
His three Torpedo Ink brothers made it to their table. He stood to meet them. “Let me introduce my lady, Azelie, to you. Babe, these are the men who own the construction company with me and are crazy music fiends, just like me.”
He indicated the man she would be familiar with. Keys gave off the impression of a stalking jungle cat, with his fluid muscles, dark hair and piercing hazel eyes.
“This is Lazar Alexeev. Do you remember him coming into the coffeehouse with me that first time? Lazar is the man who knew about the place.” He had known because he’d followed Azelie there.
Keys sent her a grin and gave her a little courtly bow. “Nice to finally meet the woman who captured Andrii.”
That sweet color slid up her neck into her face, flushing her skin a wild rose. “I don’t know that I’ve captured him, but I love being with him.”
“You took him prisoner, woman. I’m Kir Vasiliev. Known your man a long time, and I’ve got a wife who manages to twist me around her little finger. Don’t know how she does it, but I see that same look on Andrii’s face that stares back at me in the mirror when I’m trying to figure out how I got so damn lucky.”
