Only for the Night (If Only Book 2) (13 page)

“Hank—” What was supposed to follow that, she didn’t know, so she pushed to her feet instead, careful to cradle his guitar so it didn’t go flying. Hank let her up.

See. Not your Dom.

“I…uh…really need to get cleaned up,” she said, stepping over the bench, turning away from him to avoid that big hand on her thigh, so close to where she desperately wanted it. “I have to be at the bar early to decorate.”

Hank didn’t move, but she could feel his gaze hot on her as she laid the instrument gently on the bench. “You haven’t eaten.”

Even his tone was unreadable. “It’ll only take a minute.” She hurried toward the hall. “You eat. I’ll be back after I shower.” And maybe climax. Her fingers were better than embarrassing herself in front of him, if far less satisfying.

“Sage.”

That word she could read: command. The mixed signals were messing with her mind. She stopped at the door to the hallway, but she didn’t face him. “Hmm.”

A long pause, throbbing with words unsaid, then, “I’ll set your sandwich in the fridge for you.”

“Thanks, Hank.” His name came out more strangled than she’d like, but she said a futile prayer that he hadn’t heard and hurried down the hall.

Hank didn’t know why he pulled out his cell phone to call V. right before he walked through the door into Killian’s. He’d had days to make contact, but he waited until the door handle was in his grasp and his chest was tight with denial. Each ring echoed his footsteps across the small entry to the couple of stairs leading down to the bar proper. The place was packed. Alice’s friends had come to tell her good-bye, every face reminding him of the fact that Alice’s going-away party meant she was actually going away.

Okay, so he didn’t do well with loss. After what his blood family had put him through, abandoning him eight years ago, that wasn’t surprising. He’d never intended to build a new “family,” but Alice had gotten her teeth into him and clamped down with more persistence than a bulldog, giving him no choice whatsoever. And now she was leaving him.

Yeah, he’d definitely face his uncertain musical career before he faced that fact.

Another ring. Hank’s boots thumped across the wooden floor, his steps beelining for a bar stool and something to help him forget why he was here tonight.

V. finally picked up. “Yeah?”

The way V. barked the word said Hank was interrupting something. Too bad. “It’s me.”

“Whatcha need?”

That was V., no pussyfooting around. Hank signaled the bartender for a beer. “I thought about what you said.”

“And?”

“And…I have been writing. Some.” He shifted on his seat, pulled a boot up to hook over the rung circling the stool legs. “Okay, a lot.”

“Really?”

Why wasn’t V. standing in front of him so Hank could punch the sarcastic bastard? “Yeah, really. Dickhead.”

V. laughed. His friend had no intention of making this easy on him.
Shoulda known.

When his beer landed on the bar top in front of him, he had the first cold, bitter swallow in his mouth before the bartender had turned away. Liquid courage.

“Yeah, so…I’d like to talk about a solo project.”

That cut V.’s laughter off at the knees. When he finally spoke, his tone had gone pure business. “How long have you been working on the new stuff?”

Hank shrugged despite the fact that V. couldn’t see him. “Not long, but it’s coming fast.” Too fast, mostly thanks to the woman he’d practically brought to orgasm at the kitchen table a few hours ago. The same woman who’d snuck out while he was in the shower so she didn’t have to face him.

The sudden heaviness in his groin told him this wasn’t the time to think about Sage.

“It’s definitely not the same feel as Weekend’s stuff, but I think it might make a good acoustic project. If, you know, you thought that was a good option.” The uncertainty wasn’t normal for him—normal was letting everything slide off his back. Mr. Lay Back and Go with the Flow. But this was
his
music they were talking about, not the band’s. When he’d left LA, he’d turned to music to define his life, to help him deal. He valued V.’s opinion not just as his friend, but as his business manager. If V. said no, he’d drop the idea immediately.

“Of course it’s a good option. When can I hear it?”

He swallowed his pride along with his doubt. “Sometime this week? I could use your opinion.”

“Might have to be quick,” V. said absently. Hank could almost hear him mentally reviewing his schedule.

“How quick?”

“Overnight? I’ve got a few things going on here that need my attention.”

“How about tomorrow? I can have you home by Monday. That’ll give you the rest of the week for business.”

“That’ll work.”

“Good.” He hesitated. “V.…I’m not gonna abandon you guys. You know that, right?” With the words out of his mouth, he finally realized what had been holding him back all along: fear, and not of the change in his “sound.” Alice and Barry weren’t the only members of his family.

Christ, when had he become such a pussy?

“Hell no! Why would we ever think that?” V.’s exasperation came through loud and clear. “Look,
Daddy
, you can’t fix things with the band; only Chad can do that. And Drew and I don’t expect you to fix it. Who says doing your own thing for a little while is abandoning us?”

“Me.” It might not be true, but it felt true.

V. snorted. “Well tell ‘me’ to shut the hell up and get back to it.”

“Shut the hell up, Me.” Laughing ruined the effect, but what the hell. “I guess I better get back to it then,
Daddy
. You’ll be here bright and early?”

“Early for us, at least.”

Hank finished off the last swallow of beer. As he brought the empty bottle back to the bar, he glanced around, his gaze snagging on Sage where she walked with Merry toward the poolroom. How could something as simple as a woman walking cause every ounce of blood in his body to hit his cock at once? But now he knew what that round ass felt like against him, and the need for more wasn’t dying any faster than his hard-on.

His plan was already in motion. It was time to go after what he wanted more than even this new project.

He wanted Sage. Even if he had to hold back a part of himself, he wanted her. Under him. Over him. With him.

Any way he could have her.

“V.?”

“Yeah?”

Sage turned her head to smile at Merry, and Hank sucked in a sharp breath. “Definitely not too early.”

Hank disconnected the call, cutting off V.’s knowing laugh. He’d just straightened to cross the room when Alice’s voice, a bit on the tipsy side, stopped him. “Come on, Hank, you big lug. You can’t drink beer all night and ignore me. It’s my night, after all.”

He turned to take in Alice’s flirty smile and overbright eyes. A grin tugged at his mouth despite him trying to hide it. “Are you drunk, dear Alice?”

When he bent to hug her fragile form, Alice held on a little longer and a little tighter than she normally would. He could feel the tremble of her voice reflected in her body. “And if I am?” She pulled back, and just like that she was normal again—or had a good front back in its proper place. Hank was pretty sure it was the latter. “I’ve been waiting for my dance all night. When do you plan to lead this old lady around the dance floor, huh?”

“Right now.” He held out his hand. “Will you honor me with this dance?”

The sweetest smile touched her lips, and she only wobbled slightly as she placed her palm in his. “Of course.”

They boogied their way through the house band’s cover of several late ’80s hits before the music slowed, allowing them to catch their breath. Alice laid her head on Hank’s breastbone, her weight barely noticeable. Feeling her so small and vulnerable in his arms sent a pang of worry through him. “I’m gonna miss you, ya know?” he told her as they shuffled around the dance floor.

Alice lifted her head, her watery green eyes locking with his, and reached one hand up to cup his cheek. “It won’t be forever,” she told him, pain throbbing through the words.

That pain echoed inside him. He gathered her into his arms for as warm a bear hug as he could give her. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this, you or Barry.” He knew well enough that some things could only be walked through, not changed, but knowing that and accepting it were two totally different things, especially when he wasn’t the one doing the walking.

“I know.” Alice’s voice wobbled again, but she managed to hold back her tears as Hank returned them to dancing. Her look took on a hint of sly. “I’d tell you to watch out for Sage while I’m gone, but somehow I don’t think I need to.”

“No, you don’t.” Not anymore. For better or worse, his decision had been made. He’d be doing more than watching out for her if he had any say in the matter.

“Good.” She nodded decisively. “You take her home and dance with her all you want later.”

Hank burst out laughing, and Alice’s expression turned smug. How had she known? “I will.”

“Promise?”

He lifted his head, searching the room. Funny how they managed to be lined up just right, at just this moment, for his gaze to find Sage leaning on her cue as she watched Merry take her shot at one of the pool tables. Hank didn’t bother to hide the sudden heat that flared in him before he looked back down at Alice. “I promise.”

Alice smiled. “Okay. Now that that’s taken care of”—she tilted her head to one side and fluttered her lashes at him—“what are you gonna sing for me?”

“What? Who said anything about singing?”

“I did. What’s it gonna be?”

Sneaky woman. Hank winked down at her. “You’ll see.”

Their song came to a close just as they stopped in front of the stage. Leaving Alice with a firm command not to move, he retrieved his guitar from the back of the stage where he’d stowed it. The instrument’s weight comforted him as it settled on his chest, the strap pulling at his neck and shoulder, the familiar shape cradled in his hands. He made his way to the microphone, where Aaron, the lead singer for the house band, had already stepped aside.

It took a moment for him to force his eyes up, force himself to look toward Alice. Speaking was more than he could handle, though—if he tried, he’d cry like a baby. He knew how to be tough, to hide, whether behind the facade of hard-core cop or devil-may-care musician, but something about the diminutive woman staring up at him broke through every barrier he could erect. She had been his family when his own abandoned him. She’d assured him he still had a soul when he’d thought it lost forever. He could never put into words what she’d given him, so he’d done the next best thing—found the music to say it for him. When the opening notes of “Your Song” by Elton John rang from his guitar and the first words left his mouth, he saw the dawn of understanding, of gratitude—and tears—on Alice’s face before he closed his eyes against the swell of his own emotions.

The final chords echoed across the bar far too soon, forcing Hank to surface. Stillness had settled over the crowd. His gaze locked on to Sage, standing just behind Alice, Merry at her side. Tear tracks glistened on her cheeks. His heart clenched at the sight even as he silently begged for her help. She gave him a barely perceptible nod and stepped forward to whisper something in Alice’s ear; then the two women moved toward the stage.

Alice didn’t care about grabbing attention; she cried openly, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tight, guitar and all. Hank dipped his head to lay his cheek on the top of her head, face turned from the crowd. Unfortunately that gave Sage a full view of his expression. Her eyes softened, her tears restarting as she watched the two of them.

Hank turned his head to Alice’s ear. “I love you, woman.”

Alice leaned back to meet his eyes. “You’re a good man, Hank Nash.”

Taking his arms from around her left him with an empty feeling he didn’t know how to fill. He needed to protect his friend, to stand in front of her and support her, but she was going someplace he couldn’t follow and definitely couldn’t lead the way. That knowledge was killing him. So when Alice stepped around him to the microphone, he took the opportunity to retreat. To hide.

Hank didn’t know what she said to the waiting crowd; he couldn’t hear anything but the heavy thud of his heart as he lifted his guitar from his neck and stored it behind the drum set once more. He hadn’t noticed Sage leaving the stage until he reached the bottom step and found her waiting for him.

“Dance with me.”

Hesitation was beyond him. The band started something slow as Sage led him for once, out onto the dance floor, and then she was looking up at him, searing blue eyes full of compassion and a flare of hunger when he stepped into her. Gathered her close. Her presence against him soaked up the overload of his emotions, the pain so sharp his muscles ached. She didn’t protest, just gave him the comfort of her body for long moments.

They threaded their way through the crowded dance floor, both of them silent, letting their bodies speak for them. Not until they reached a quiet spot near the back corner did Sage pull back, waking from the dream far before Hank was ready. He growled low in his throat and tugged her right back against him.