“He wants it,” Charly says with confidence and kisses my cheek. “Have fun. Be safe.”
“And please, get laid,” Van adds.
***
Dinner was amazing, at my favorite restaurant in the Quarter, Café Amalie. Kate must have told Rhys to take me there.
The food was delicious, Joe the waiter was kind and flirty, and my date was attentive, sexy and funny.
I’ve come to learn that effort is attractive. Rhys is here with me because he wants to be, and he put a lot of effort into getting me here.
Totally sexy.
And if that wasn’t enough, he took me to the club that my brother, Declan, is playing in tonight. We have front row seats, so Rhys must have given Declan the heads up that we were coming.
I don’t remember the last time I got to watch Dec perform. It’s been years. And there is nothing in the world like watching my handsome brother croon, sing, play the instruments like he was born to it, and flirt with the audience.
He’s always reminded me of Harry Connick Jr., another New Orleans native musician. Like Harry, Declan is funny, and so damn talented.
He’s singing a bluesy number I don’t know, his long fingers dancing over the keys of the piano, and he glances over at me and winks.
I’m swaying in my seat, holding Rhys’s hand in my lap, soaking in the music and the strong, captivating man sitting next to me.
Rhys leans over and kisses the crown of my head, then murmurs, “Are you having fun?”
“So much fun,” I reply immediately. “I don’t remember the last time I heard Dec play.”
“He’s good,” Rhys says, his eyes on Declan.
“He’s the best.” I nudge Rhys with my shoulder playfully. “And I didn’t get even a drop of the musical talent that Dec has.”
“You have other talents,” he replies softly, his green eyes suddenly hot.
“Like you’d know,” I mutter low, but suddenly Rhys’s arm is wrapped around my shoulders and his lips are against my ear.
“Trust me, baby, I want you, and I’ll have you. But I’m enjoying this easy evening out with you.”
I smile up at him as Declan finishes the song. He stands from the piano and sits on a stool with his guitar. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a special guest here tonight.”
He smiles down at me and I pray with all my might that he doesn’t pull me up on stage. I’m terrified of people.
But he just gives me a tiny shake of the head and keeps talking.
Because he knows.
“My baby sister, Gabby, hasn’t heard me perform in about three years, and I’m pleased that she’s here tonight, with a special friend.”
I raise a brow, but he keeps talking.
“Gabby is one of the most special people in my life, friends.” His eyes soften on me. “She’s the best. And this is a song that our father sang to her, and that she now sings to her little one. I’d like to sing it for her tonight.”
I hold my breath, and reach out for Rhys’s hand as Declan begins to sing the Johnny Cash version of You Are My Sunshine, and just like that, tears fill my eyes as I watch my big brother sing the song that’s more familiar to me than just about anything else.
The guitar sounds…well, stringy is the only way I can describe it because I don’t play the instrument myself. It’s a slow, gritty version of the song, and I love every note.
When he’s done, he comes off the stage to me, hugs me close, and whispers in my ear, “Love you, sunshine.”
“Love you.” He returns to the stage, and I glance up at Rhys. “Thank you.”
***
This evening has been nothing short of a fantasy. After the show, Rhys walked me back down Royal Street to a bed and breakfast and led me up the stairs, where our luggage was already waiting in our room.
The room is beautifully decorated with antique furniture, lovely, bold colored linens and a huge bathroom is attached.
“This is charming,” I murmur and turn to see Rhys’s eyes on me.
“I watch you move and I can’t think straight,” he says as he slowly walks toward me. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are in this dress and heels?”
“Charly says they’re fuck-me heels.” I swallow and watch his lips as they tip up in that half-smile that always does me in.
“She’s right,” he says on a sigh. “I think we’ll leave them on for a few minutes.”
“Okay. She also gave me condoms.” Jesus, shut up, Gabby!
“Well, she’s a planner. We’re going to take this dress off.”
I swallow again. “Okay.”
He slowly turns me away from him and pushes my hair over my shoulder, out of his way, and then lowers the zipper of my dress and pushes it down my arms, and lets it simply fall in a heap around my feet.
“Holy fuck,” he hisses between his teeth. His fingertips trace the straps of my bra, then the elastic of my panties around my waist and my whole body is on fire. Just the lightest touch sends goose bumps all over me.
His lips graze my shoulder, then up my neck to my ear. “You take my breath away, Gabrielle.”
I turn to face him and slide my palms up his torso, on either side of the buttons of his black button-down. When I reach the top, I unbutton the shirt, then push it down his arms and off, admiring the smooth, tanned skin that covers his muscled body. His abs are ridiculous. It should be illegal to look like this in slacks. I stick my fingertip in the waist of his pants, right over the zipper, and can feel the tip of his already-hard cock.
“And please, get laid,” Van adds.
***
Dinner was amazing, at my favorite restaurant in the Quarter, Café Amalie. Kate must have told Rhys to take me there.
The food was delicious, Joe the waiter was kind and flirty, and my date was attentive, sexy and funny.
I’ve come to learn that effort is attractive. Rhys is here with me because he wants to be, and he put a lot of effort into getting me here.
Totally sexy.
And if that wasn’t enough, he took me to the club that my brother, Declan, is playing in tonight. We have front row seats, so Rhys must have given Declan the heads up that we were coming.
I don’t remember the last time I got to watch Dec perform. It’s been years. And there is nothing in the world like watching my handsome brother croon, sing, play the instruments like he was born to it, and flirt with the audience.
He’s always reminded me of Harry Connick Jr., another New Orleans native musician. Like Harry, Declan is funny, and so damn talented.
He’s singing a bluesy number I don’t know, his long fingers dancing over the keys of the piano, and he glances over at me and winks.
I’m swaying in my seat, holding Rhys’s hand in my lap, soaking in the music and the strong, captivating man sitting next to me.
Rhys leans over and kisses the crown of my head, then murmurs, “Are you having fun?”
“So much fun,” I reply immediately. “I don’t remember the last time I heard Dec play.”
“He’s good,” Rhys says, his eyes on Declan.
“He’s the best.” I nudge Rhys with my shoulder playfully. “And I didn’t get even a drop of the musical talent that Dec has.”
“You have other talents,” he replies softly, his green eyes suddenly hot.
“Like you’d know,” I mutter low, but suddenly Rhys’s arm is wrapped around my shoulders and his lips are against my ear.
“Trust me, baby, I want you, and I’ll have you. But I’m enjoying this easy evening out with you.”
I smile up at him as Declan finishes the song. He stands from the piano and sits on a stool with his guitar. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a special guest here tonight.”
He smiles down at me and I pray with all my might that he doesn’t pull me up on stage. I’m terrified of people.
But he just gives me a tiny shake of the head and keeps talking.
Because he knows.
“My baby sister, Gabby, hasn’t heard me perform in about three years, and I’m pleased that she’s here tonight, with a special friend.”
I raise a brow, but he keeps talking.
“Gabby is one of the most special people in my life, friends.” His eyes soften on me. “She’s the best. And this is a song that our father sang to her, and that she now sings to her little one. I’d like to sing it for her tonight.”
I hold my breath, and reach out for Rhys’s hand as Declan begins to sing the Johnny Cash version of You Are My Sunshine, and just like that, tears fill my eyes as I watch my big brother sing the song that’s more familiar to me than just about anything else.
The guitar sounds…well, stringy is the only way I can describe it because I don’t play the instrument myself. It’s a slow, gritty version of the song, and I love every note.
When he’s done, he comes off the stage to me, hugs me close, and whispers in my ear, “Love you, sunshine.”
“Love you.” He returns to the stage, and I glance up at Rhys. “Thank you.”
***
This evening has been nothing short of a fantasy. After the show, Rhys walked me back down Royal Street to a bed and breakfast and led me up the stairs, where our luggage was already waiting in our room.
The room is beautifully decorated with antique furniture, lovely, bold colored linens and a huge bathroom is attached.
“This is charming,” I murmur and turn to see Rhys’s eyes on me.
“I watch you move and I can’t think straight,” he says as he slowly walks toward me. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are in this dress and heels?”
“Charly says they’re fuck-me heels.” I swallow and watch his lips as they tip up in that half-smile that always does me in.
“She’s right,” he says on a sigh. “I think we’ll leave them on for a few minutes.”
“Okay. She also gave me condoms.” Jesus, shut up, Gabby!
“Well, she’s a planner. We’re going to take this dress off.”
I swallow again. “Okay.”
He slowly turns me away from him and pushes my hair over my shoulder, out of his way, and then lowers the zipper of my dress and pushes it down my arms, and lets it simply fall in a heap around my feet.
“Holy fuck,” he hisses between his teeth. His fingertips trace the straps of my bra, then the elastic of my panties around my waist and my whole body is on fire. Just the lightest touch sends goose bumps all over me.
His lips graze my shoulder, then up my neck to my ear. “You take my breath away, Gabrielle.”
I turn to face him and slide my palms up his torso, on either side of the buttons of his black button-down. When I reach the top, I unbutton the shirt, then push it down his arms and off, admiring the smooth, tanned skin that covers his muscled body. His abs are ridiculous. It should be illegal to look like this in slacks. I stick my fingertip in the waist of his pants, right over the zipper, and can feel the tip of his already-hard cock.
