I wonder who the fuck this one is.
Not that he’ll be around for long. Charly doesn’t keep men in her life. Odd, how our parents were married for the better part of five decades, faithfully and in love for every day of those years, yet most of their six children are commitment-phobes.
“Are y’all havin’ a good night?” I ask the crowd as I tickle the keys on the piano and smile when the room erupts into applause and cheers. “I am too. Let’s give the owner, Callie, and the staff of The Odyssey a big round of applause for making this place so beautiful.”
My eyes link with Callie’s as the crowd cheers loudly. She smiles and waves, then simply lifts a perfect eyebrow in my direction.
God, I love how sassy she is.
“I’d also like to send out a little hello to some of my family in the audience this evening.” I smile down at Eli, Kate and Charly. If any of my family takes the time to come to a show, I take a minute to thank them. “And this here’s gonna be the last song this evening. It’s one of my favorites. Thanks for listening tonight, friends.”
I move easily into a slower rendition of Adele’s Set Fire to the Rain, loving the lyrics, losing myself in the melody. And when it’s done, I stand and wave, give one bow, then climb off the stage and head straight to my family.
“Hey,” I say and kiss Kate’s cheek, then Charly’s, and give my brother a man-hug. “Thanks for coming.” Then I turn to Charly’s date. “Who are you?”
Charly rolls her eyes. “God, you’re such a man.”
“I’m a brother,” I correct her, still holding the stranger’s gaze with mine. He’s not as tall as me or Eli, but then few are. At roughly six-foot-four, we’re taller than most. He’s dressed smartly, like an accountant or a lawyer, in a dark button-down and khaki pants.
And, because she’s Charly, and this is her type, he has dark blond hair and light eyes. “I’m Declan.”
“This is Harrison,” Charly says.
“Can I call you Harry?” I ask with a smile, but Harrison doesn’t smile. He simply says, “No.”
I glance over at Eli, whose eyes are narrowed, and he gives a small shake of his head.
Harrison won’t be around long.
“Okay then. I hope you enjoyed the show.”
“Not my usual type of music, but you’re very talented,” the rude and stuffy Harrison replies.
My eyes meet Eli’s again, and a whole conversation takes place in the matter of two seconds.
Can I deck him?
Not worth it, man.
“We need to go soon,” Kate says with a smile. Her green eyes look happy as she tosses her red hair over her shoulder and gazes up at Eli. “We fly out early tomorrow morning.”
“Where are you headed?” I ask.
“Aruba,” Eli replies with a satisfied smile. “Kate and I have earned a vacation.”
“I’m going to sit on the beach and read a book.”
“Under an umbrella,” Eli adds and drags his hand down her hair. “And after I’ve had my way with you.”
“Ew,” Charly says, scrunching up her nose. Harrison simply clears his throat and shuffles his feet.
He’s wearing Chucks. With khakis.
We won’t have to run him off. Charly won’t be okay with that.
“I’d like to make it an early night, too,” Charly adds. “I’m working tomorrow.”
I lean down and hug my sister tight, then whisper in her ear, “I don’t like him.”
“Me either,” she whispers back, and smiles up at me as I pull away.
Good.
Goodnights are said, and I make my way over to the bar. The crowd has thinned significantly, and now just a few people are left, from the sounds of it most of them are on the roof enjoying the cool fall evening and the view.
Callie’s manning the bar alone. She’s still in her killer pink heels, but she changed out of the cutoffs and tank into a killer little black dress that hugs her in all the right places.
She has great tits and ass, but she’s more slender than I usually like. There is nothing soft about her, which suits Callie because she’s not a soft woman. I don’t know her well, yet, but I know that she’s strong, in charge, and she’ll kick ass when needed.
God, she’s adorable.
I get comfortable on a stool and grin when she makes her way down to me.
“Whiskey?” she asks with cool eyes, and no hint of a smile. I ordered a whiskey not long after she took over, before renovations started, and I could tell then that it irritated her.
“How about a shot of tequila tonight? If you’ll do one with me.”
Without missing a beat, she reaches for two shot glasses and pours the clear liquid—the good stuff—and hands me one, then clinks her glass to mine. “To one hell of a night.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
We shoot our drinks, and then she holds the bottle up. “Another?”
“Sure.”
She pours me more, but not herself. “You’re not joining me?”
“I’m driving,” she replies with a smile.
“Where do you live?” I ask.
“Not close enough to walk,” she replies and washes out her glass, then puts it away.
“You have beautiful eyes.” I lean my chin on my hand and watch her bustle about. I’m the only one at the bar now, and I admit I like having all of her attention.