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Chapter One ~ Brendan
One…
Two…
Three…
There was nothing like those three seconds after Brock began strumming the first cord. I always waited backstage while my brothers got settled, waiting for Brock’s cue before strutting out into the lights to take my place center stage. I’d close my eyes as the lyrics erupted from my vocal cords.
Those moments were true bliss.
Yes, I loved the sounds of fans screaming my name, and the way it made me feel to hear them sing along with me, but the rush of those three seconds…
It was like a drug, and I was addicted.
After taking a break and heading to Europe, it felt amazing to be back on the stage with my brothers. I opened my eyes and turned my head, smiling when I saw Brock with his head down and eyes closed as he played.
With my eldest brother it was never about the spotlight, just the music. He would have been just as happy playing in his backyard as he was on the stage. Brock never wanted more than to share this experience with Brady, our middle brother, and me.
Although I was the youngest, I was the driving force behind Whiskey Heat. I knew without a doubt that my brothers stayed in the band because they knew how much I loved it. We were all getting older, and Brock was a husband and father now, but he still showed up every time I booked us a gig, and I loved him for it.
I swiveled my head and scanned the decent-sized crowd that littered the dance floor of Jake’s, the bar we often played. My eyes skidded to a halt when I noticed a woman dancing with a group in the middle of the floor.
She was average height, with dark, possibly red, hair, which hung long and thick over her creamy white skin. It was hard to tell when the lights on the stage were so bright, and the dance floor so dark … Who the fuck cared what color it was anyway. It was lush and beautiful, and begged to be wrapped around my hands.
Her body was thick … sexy thick … all ass, tits, and legs. The way she moved screamed confidence. Even from my vantage point, I could tell she wasn’t one of the normal girls that came to our shows – the groupies, the young, hot chicks in short dresses, who were perfectly made up. This chick was one hundred percent real, and comfortable in her own skin. She was one fine, fucking package, and my dick swelled in my jeans as my thoughts took a dirty turn.
I narrowed my eyes on her as I sang, oblivious to the girls screaming and reaching for me at the front of the stage, but she was just as oblivious of me. The gorgeous stranger was laughing and having a good time with her friends, dancing, drinking, and ignoring the passes from each drunken moron that tried to infiltrate their group.
After a couple songs, I stepped back to grab a drink of water and give Brady shit about the pair of white panties that were currently hanging from the corner of his set. I laughed when he scowled and used one of his sticks to fling it off.
Brady never went for the groupies. I had no idea why. He wasn’t as awesome as I was, but the ladies seemed eager to get in his pants. Rather than take them up on the opportunities they offered, he always slipped out the back after a show. I think his brooding silence made him more of a challenge, because he had a couple girls who were rabidly trying to get his attention … One of them being the owner of the white panties.
I ambled back to the mic, pulling my hair back and securing it behind my head so it wouldn’t stick to my face, before addressing the crowd.
“How’s it goin’?” I yelled with a grin. “You guys having a good time?”
The grin curved higher as I looked them over, their affirmations fueling the fire in my belly that craved their adoration.
“I’m gonna slow it down for a bit … This one’s new.”
I nodded to Brock, then turned my eyes and caught the red-haired woman from earlier staring up at me. Her smile was a little loopy, hinting to the fact that she’d had enough to drink to make her feel
good, but her movements were still controlled enough that I knew she wasn’t wasted. She was close enough now that I could see the light smattering of freckles that danced across her face.
Something about the combination of her confidence, mixed with sexy adorableness, really turned me on.
I kept my eyes locked on her as I laid out the words to the song I’d written about Brock and Victoria. It was slow, sexy, and guaranteed to turn these girls into a puddle of wanton need at my feet. We played mostly covers, but liked to slip an original in now and then.
I’d been excited to debut my song tonight, but was even more so as I watched the way Freckles responded to my lyrics.
She felt it, I knew it … That unexplainable bond you’d sometimes have with a stranger. A simple meeting of the eyes that sent a jolt through your body, and you knew, even if you never saw them again, you had a connection.
Chemistry.
It was a rare and precious thing, and sometimes you never had a chance to act on it, but we had it. I could feel it in my bones, and I’d swear she could too.
As I finished the song, my voice lowering as I uttered the last words, I broke eye contact with Freckles and turned to Brock, eager to see his reaction.
The women in the audience were screaming, but all I was focused on was my brother. His eyes were misty and his lips were only slightly upturned, but his expression gave it all away. He was touched. I felt immediate and immense pleasure, that feeling you can only get when you’ve made someone you look up to … your hero, mentor, father … proud.
Brock may have been my brother, but he’d raised me since I was fourteen, and was the only father figure I had in my life. His opinion of me meant everything, and I wasn’t afraid to show it.
