One Bride for Five Mountain Men

Everyone broke into applause once the song ended, with smiles being shared all around.

“I have seen a zillion guys play music, but Arsen my boy, you still take my breath away,” Don remarked. Rory noticed that the smile on Mickey’s face grew dimmer at Don’s comment.

“One more! One more!” Lizzy exclaimed.

“Now now, young lady. I’m going to have to charge you an admission fee for that!” Don replied, and broke into a laugh. The kind of laugh you couldn’t help but join in with.

“Sure, why not! We got nothing else to do, right?” Mickey said. He was clearly enjoying being a rockstar and was constantly scanning Rory and Lizzy’s faces to see if they were impressed with his act. Rory found it childish.

“How about a blues jam?” Arsen said in his smooth baritone voice that sounded unlike everyone else’s in the room. Rory wondered how good a singer he was.

“Perfect. Let’s do a blues jam and make up some lyrics on the spot.” Mickey clapped his hands. As Arsen’s fingers hit the ivories and played the standard, familiar, blues progression that Rory had often heard on the old records that her grandma listened to, Mickey started singing.

“Rain rain, go away, don’t you come another day. The bad boys here all want to play, so do not spoil our holiday.”

Everyone broke into a laughter at the lyrics he churned out and Rory thought she even heard Arsen chuckle. Mickey went on to make more impromptu lyrics and did what he did best, entertain. Midway through the song, Arsen broke into an instrumental break and sped on, playing a hundred notes a minute. I thought he was a guitar player? Rory wondered. Arsen was playing the piano like he had been born on it.

Mickey meanwhile was busy dancing with Lizzy, who was super excited to be with such a big celebrity. There was a happy vibe in the room and for once, Rory decided to drop her guard and join in on the celebrations. She walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine and some glasses. So what if it’s too early to drink in the afternoon. I don’t do this every day, she justified to herself.

Half an hour later, the bottle of wine was empty and Lizzy promptly headed to the kitchen to open another. Fueled by liquor, Mickey had regaled them with stories of funny incidents that had happened on tour. Some of the things were unbelievable for Rory, like the story about Bobby driving a limo into a hotel swimming pool. He seemed like such a quiet, docile guy, but apparently it was the most rockstar thing to do and they all treated it as normal.

Or the one about Arsen appearing on a TV show in Japan, learning samurai sword-fighting while wearing a kimono. Rory couldn’t even imagine his muscular body in a kimono.

Lizzy had been constantly refilling Rory’s glass, and by that time Rory had already downed three of them, but most of all she was famished.

“Anybody want food?” she said out loud and murmurs of agreement came from everyone.

“Maybe we can order in,” Lizzy chimed in, clearly not wanting to break up the party that was going on.

“In this rain? No one will come,” Rory said.

“No problem, ladies and gentlemen. Mickey to the rescue again,” Mickey said in his larger-than-life way and nodded to his chauffeur. “Sam here is an excellent cook and can put together something in a heartbeat, can’t you Sam?” Mickey pointed at his chauffeur who was standing by the door quietly sipping his wine.

“Yes, sir.”

“Just tell him where the kitchen is and he’ll do the rest,” Mickey said to Rory, and as always Lizzy jumped up.

“I’ll show him.” She smiled at Rory.

“I’ll come with you,” Mickey said with a devious smile on his face, and the three of them headed off to the kitchen. Don and the rest of the guys moved out too as they wanted to smoke, and suddenly Rory was left alone in the room with Arsen. She wondered how awkward it would be if she just got up and walked away too.

Arsen got up from the piano and limped his way to the couch opposite hers. He looked Rory straight in the eye, unnerving her. And then he smirked. He is just gorgeous, she reluctantly admitted to herself and quickly looked away.

Rory felt heat building inside her as she suddenly became aware of his broad shoulders, his strong angular jaw, and his full lips. What would it be like to kiss them?

“When you love a song, you should sing it as freely as possible,” he said softly.

“Excuse me?” Rory leaned forward, trying to compose herself.

“You liked singing ‘Hey Jude,’ but you were restraining yourself, barely humming, worried about what everyone else would think.” Rory tried to maintain a straight face, but she was surprised at how easily he had read her. He smirked again as he studied her, his gaze flickering briefly to her mouth.

“Nothing like that,” she said. Arsen didn’t reply, just sat there in a strong posture. The air in the room seemed to change, and Arsen seemed much more relaxed to her.

“I mean, not many people would dare to do that in a room full of professional musicians,” she added.

“Why would you want to be many people? Why not be different than others?” His words hit home. All her life she had tried to be herself, but unknowingly she had drifted sideways to become one of the herd.

“If everyone is going one way, turn around and walk in the opposite direction,” he asserted. That is so true, Rory thought.