Real Men Will (Donovan Brothers Brewery 3)

“About Monica.”

“Oh! Jesus, I thought you meant…” He waved a hand toward her and bit back a laugh. “Sorry. It’s been an odd week.”

“Glad I’m not the only one.”

“Yeah.” He pushed a hand through his hair and shook his head. “If you’re okay with waiting, I’ll talk to the detective on the case. He’s involved with my sister now, so I can bounce it off him and see if he wants to do anything about it. Would that be all right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he said, running his hand through his hair again. “Then…thank you. I should… Here.” He reached into his wallet and took out a card. “The second number is my cell. Call me if you’re worried about anything. I don’t want to miss you again.”

Had he missed her? “Oh,” she murmured, realizing what he’d meant. Of course he hadn’t missed her. He barely knew her. “I’d better get back in,” she said belatedly. “Goodbye.”

She walked away, wishing she could go back and kiss him again. Wishing it wouldn’t damage her pride to throw herself into his arms and damn the light. Was he watching her? Did he want her to stop?

“Beth,” he said, and she spun so quickly that she nearly stumbled. So much for her pride.

Eric walked toward her, smiling as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. He reached out and said, “My coat.”

She was still waiting for him to touch her, to cup her chin and tilt her head so he could kiss her again. A real kiss this time. Not…

“Oh,” she finally managed. “Of course.”

“If you’re cold, you can—”

“No. Thank you, though.” She slid it off, forcing herself back into the damp air and into a place where Eric Donovan didn’t kiss her. “Thank you,” she repeated.

Shivering, she walked back to the life where she pretended to be a vibrant, sexual woman and away from the life where she actually was.

CHAPTER NINE

“COME ON,” CAIRO PLEADED. “It’ll be fun.”

Beth shook her head. “No. I’m exhausted.”

“It’s only eight o’clock!”

“I’ve been here since eight. I hardly got any sleep last night, and it’s a Tuesday. Not a big party night for me.” She just wanted to go home. After she’d tossed and turned last night, she felt like she could sleep for twelve hours.

“Pleeease?” Cairo pushed, folding both her hands under her chin and watching Beth with wide brown eyes. “Pretty please? I know for a fact that Davis will be there.”

“Davis?” For a moment, Beth couldn’t place the name. “Oh, Davis. How do you know he’ll be there?”

“Because he’s the guitar player in the band.”

Had he told her he was in a band? It sounded only vaguely familiar. Which was exactly why she couldn’t see Eric

even casually. She’d spent an hour with Davis on Thursday night, and she could hardly remember anything about him. Except for that one unfortunately vivid detail that Cairo had revealed.

“Oh, what the hell,” she muttered. Maybe waxed man meat wasn’t unfortunate. Maybe it would rock her up-tight little world. “All right. I’m in.”

“Yea! Come on. They’re starting their first set any second.”

And that was how Beth found herself at a college bar at nearly nine o’clock on a Tuesday night, playing the part of girlfriend to the band. She was wearing jeans, at least, so she was only moderately overdressed in a silk shirt and heels. Thankfully, Cairo was wearing her normal style of 1950s housewife dress and cute pumps. She even had a little flower in her hair, glowing white against her black bob. They stood out among the college girls in their leggings and layered T-shirts, but at least they stood out together.

Cairo’s boyfriend—one of her boyfriends—was playing backup on bass tonight. Her other boyfriend had just arrived and was settling into the seat next to Cairo, his fingers already laced through hers. Beth sneaked a look at the bass player, Rex, curious to see whether he’d react. But no. It was totally normal for them. Beth was fascinated every time she saw them together. They didn’t seem to struggle at all, while Beth felt as if she was always flailing.

Applause broke out and she realized the song had come to an end. She clapped and smiled at Davis, impressed despite her distraction. He was a great guitar player. Skilled and subtle. He didn’t show off. He just played with quiet confidence. Maybe she should give him more of a chance.