Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Evan gave Brendan one last stare before going over to the bar.
“Is that your boyfriend?”
“No, actually. He’s a family friend who’s performing here tonight. I’m…renting a room from him while I’m in town. We’re here with his eight-year-old daughter.” I looked over toward where Effie was sitting. “I should get back to her.”
“Okay. Well, if you want to hang out while you’re in Dry River, I’d love to catch up.”
I didn’t see the harm in that. Evan had given me no formal reason to say no, especially with how quiet he’d been since the closet encounter. Was he having regrets?
“Maybe.” I bit my lip and thought better of that answer. “Actually, sure.”
“Can we exchange numbers?” He grinned.
“Sure.”
I took out my phone and let him enter his contact information. Then I sent him a text.
“Well, cool, then.” He put his phone back in his pocket. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon.”
“Sure…” I smiled and walked over to join Evan and Effie at their corner table.
Evan gave me a look, and I decided to poke at him as I sat down.
I spoke in his ear. “You sure stepped into that conversation fast.”
“Are we not here together?” he asked, looking pissed.
“I don’t know.” I glared. “Are we?”
Effie looked between us. “Daddy, where’s my Coke?”
Evan closed his eyes. “Sorry, baby. I knew I forgot something. Let me go back and get it.”
Evan seemed flustered, but I warned myself not to get too excited about the prospect of his jealousy. Even if he was a little territorial, that didn’t matter if he continued to rule out something real happening between us. Sneaking me into a closet and mauling me hardly counted as a step in the right direction, even if I’d enjoyed every last second of it and longed for an encore.
Soon after Evan returned with Effie’s Coke, a couple of his friends arrived. The two men occupied the remaining seats at our table.
Evan gestured to a short, balding guy in a plaid shirt. “Chloe, this is Owen.”
“Great to meet you.” Owen nodded, flashing an adorable smile.
He pointed to the other guy, a muscular ginger. “And that’s Freddy.”
“Where you been hiding her?” Freddy smirked.
“Pipe down,” Evan warned.
While I liked this side of Evan, I’d have liked it a lot better if I could reap some of the benefits of his anger. Instead, tonight we’d likely go home and retreat to our separate rooms as always.
I took a sip of my drink. “So, how did you guys start performing together?”
“It started as a dare,” Freddy explained. “We were here one night with our wives years ago…” He pointed his head toward Evan. “Well, back when this one was married.” He continued, “My wife, Clarissa, dared us to go up and perform since we’d been jamming in Owen’s basement for quite some time. And that was how it began.”
“We used to play more local venues,” Owen added. “But in recent years, we mainly grace audiences with our presence here at The Lodge once a month.”
“I like this place because even though they serve alcohol, they let me bring Effie, so I don’t have to worry about a sitter,” Evan explained. “And she loves coming.”
“That makes total sense.” I took another sip, feeling the tequila take the edge off.
A folk band was the first to perform. Between their songs, the guys explained that The Lodge provided all of the instruments, keeping a set of drums permanently on the stage and storing everything else in a back room for open mic nights.
After about an hour, they called Evan and the guys up on stage, which was just a makeshift wooden platform.
Evan played the guitar and sang while Freddy was on drums and Owen on the keyboard. I’d never heard Evan perform like this. His singing voice was different from his speaking voice—still deep, but smoother. He sounded great. I was pleasantly surprised and so proud of him.
Their first few songs were covers of existing tunes. But then they played one I didn’t recognize. I assumed it was still another cover until Effie leaned over toward me.
“Daddy writes songs,” she said.
“He does? He never mentioned that.”
“He wrote this one.”
“What’s it called?”
“‘Stray Dog’.” She giggled.
Once I knew Evan had written it, I listened closely to try to make sense of the lyrics. It was something about a guy who lets people feed him, then deserts them. One of the lines was, He never belongs to anyone.
Hmm… I looked forward to picking his brain about those lyrics later.
When the guys finished, Effie and I stood. We clapped and cheered as loudly as we could.
“You sounded amazing.” I rubbed Evan’s arm when he returned to the table. “Who knew you could sing like that?”
“Well, it’s a talent that seems to improve the more my life goes into the toilet.”
“A coping mechanism?”
He shrugged. “Maybe, yeah.”
“Well, it’s working for you. And Effie certainly loves listening to her dad perform.”