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“Work for you?” She fidgets with her lip and squints, leaning closer to me. “How do you know J. M. Hurst?”
I grin and shrug. “He’s a devilishly handsome guy.”
Her eyes narrow. She’s suspicious. I wink at her. “If you’re good, I’ll have him sign a book for you.From Wyatt, to his secret girlfriend.”
She growls, and I take her hand, kissing it. “It’s a pen name.Mypen name.”
Her eyes flash, those plump lips gifting me a huge smile. Fuck, I love when she smiles and her eyes brighten.
“You’re him? He is you?” She squeezes my hand. “If I could, I’d hug you and kiss you. Maybe keep you in my house forever—make you write for me every night.”
I rise from my seat and hug her, giving her a lingering kiss on her cheek. “So, are you going to work for me?” I whisper. “Keep me forever?”
“Look, it’s MJ Decker.” The loud screech breaks the moment Thea and I had going on… or were about to have.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, releasing her body. Her eyes find mine, and they look confused yet excited. “Think about it, Butterfly. It’s show time.”
Making my way to Reed, I ask for a guitar. As promised on Twitter, I’d perform a few old songs ofWithout A Compassand pack the place. Give a little boost to this joint. Reed glares at me, not the appreciative look I expected when I tweeted about my presence at the Silver Moon. Nope, his gaze is eerily similar to the one he gave me when I got stuck in one of his toilets while fucking a girl. God, I was a stupid kid back then.
“I don’t have enough waiters to work at full capacity, Decker.” Reed stretches his neck, looking behind me. “We have to close the place. No one else enters. Next time, give me a heads-up, please?”
I give him a sharp nod. “Let me get the guitar from my office and talk to T. Meet me by the bar.”
I delete the post and send another one saying I’m at the Black Out in Malibu. That should keep Tristan occupied for the night. I grin, knowing he’s going to be happy, yet he will give me shit about it. My eyes shift from my phone toward the bar, and it’s twice as crowded as it was only minutes ago. I make my way there, entering through the side door.
I approach Thea, who is pouring a pitcher of beer, and ask what I could do for her. She shakes her head.
“Decker, stay away from T,” Reed orders, handing me a guitar case. “This is your dad’s old guitar. He kept it here in case he was in the mood to play.”
Thea hands over the pitcher and turns to look at me with a frown. “You’re playing?”
“Yes, any special request from my lady?”
Thea shakes her head, tilting it she says, “Something soft. I don’t know, surprise me?”
I place my lips close to her ear. “I don’t do soft, but for you, I will.” She releases a hitched breath and I leave for the small stage.
For the next couple of hours, I play several covers, a few tunes from my old band, and then finally I play Parachute’s “What I Know.” Nothing soft or romantic came to me while I played. The view of the bar was blocked by a wall of customers, so my muse was hidden. Reed approaches me when I finish my last song and announces the last call.
“Decker, do you have time to help us close?”
“Of course, anything for you, Reed.”
“Thank you, son, for helping and for bringing in this crowd. It’s been a while since I’ve had a full house.”
“Next time,” I say, walking toward the exit.
Thea turns around, squinting her eyes—that little frown between her eyebrows I’m starting to dig that shows she’s requesting a further explanation.
“You asked for a soft song, but nothing inspired me. I couldn’t see you from where I sat.”
“Inspired?” Her eyebrow cocks high.
“If I’d seen you, I could’ve come up with a soft song, something special for you.” I can’t help but give her that grin I know makes her smile. “You do know I’m a musician? I compose music and lyrics?”
“Yes, it appears you’re a man of multiple talents.” She opens the door, one of the bouncers follows behind her, and I do the same.
“Maybe your next talent will be bartending, sir, because I don’t think I can handle a bigger crowd than the one we had tonight. My bank account appreciates you, though.”
