She's the One (Lowcountry Lovers Series Book 2) (6 page)

Why didn’t you ask me what I wanted twenty minutes ago, before your soul mate showed up with her date?

Melissa pulled away. “I know you think what I do is crazy, but—.”

“I never said that, but if I’m being honest, I wanted you from the day I met you. Then things took off from there. And I think you have feelings for me, too.”

She swiped at her tears. “You don’t understand, Shane. When the perfect match comes along, I see things. Kind of like the ‘seeing sparks fly’ cliché. That’s what I feel when you touch me, but when she touched you—I saw... fireworks.” She turned to face him. “You’re right, Shane. I do have feelings for you, but that woman is the one for you. Not me.” Melissa pulled away from him and was standing on the edge of the dock.

“Melissa—”

“Shane, I’ve got nowhere to go but over the edge. If you care about me as much as you say you do—please, just walk away.”

“If that’s what you want, I will. For now.” It was obvious he was angry, but Melissa couldn’t ignore the truth. “You’re wrong about you and me, and I’ll prove it.”

M
elissa stood for a while after he left, watching the tide come into the creek. The seagulls called to a fisherman cleaning the day’s catch. She felt a hand on her back and turned to look into Savannah’s sweet face.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“No way,” she wiped her tears away with the hem of her t-shirt. “This is your first oyster roast and the last one of the season. We’re not going anywhere.”

The band opened with a gritty Stevie Ray Vaughn tune, and the weather was as perfect as it was ten minutes ago when the bottom fell out of Melissa’s world. She hoped, as they walked up the gangplank, that Shane would be gone, but he wasn’t. He’d moved to the bar and was pretending to listen to the music, looking beautiful but pissed off. Cassie was at the center table on the lawn with the guy she came with; he looked as angry as Shane did.

Melissa had always accepted the answers that came with her gift without question, and there was no arguing with fireworks. She couldn’t blame Cassie for being the one for Shane, and tried to shrug off the idea of where she thought things might have been going with him. It was over before it started.

Melissa and Savannah sat down at a table on the other side of the bar. There was enough of a crowd so that she couldn’t see Shane, and that was fine by her. Savannah snagged a couple more beers and two bottled waters while Melissa ordered oysters and some sides. Bo and his band were in good form and had several people on their feet dancing. Savannah was having a great time. If she took away the drama with Shane, Melissa could rubberstamp this as another perfect Isle of Palms day.

The band lit into a new tune, and Melissa lifted her glass to Bo. He was hot, but then, most guys who were good with a guitar were, except for the redheaded kid.

“How do you know all these old songs?” Savannah asked over the music.

“My dad was a musician. He wasn’t around a lot, but when he was, his friends would sit around and jam like this. Blues. Lots of blues. Kind of made me the weird kid growing up, preferring Etta James to Britney Spears.”

Savannah winced. “I was into pop in a big way. LOVED the Spice Girls. As a matter of fact, I’ve had just enough beer to admit I saw them seventeen times. I wanted to
be
a Spice Girl.”

“Ooh, let me guess which one. Baby?” Savannah shook her head as Melissa went down the roster until there was only one choice. “You wanted to be Scary?”

“I thought I was being brave. I guess I’ve always been a big chicken.” Savannah laughed so hard, she snorted. “My turn to ask questions. You do know the tall, leggy, attention-whore is ignoring her date and totally crushing on Shane. Right? But do you feel his eyes glued on you?”

Not going there. “Next question.”

“Okay. How do you do it?”

Melissa cocked her head to the side.

“You know, fall back into to the rhythm of the island so easily.”

“The island can do the same thing for you, Savannah, if you let it.”

“Can I tell you something?”

Melissa nodded.

“For the first time since—well, in a very long time, I feel completely relaxed. Happy.”

They gorged themselves on oysters and bar food and switched to wine at some point. When the band took a break, Bo sat down at their table.

“Shane looks like he wants to rip Hot Guitar Guy’s arms off,” Savannah whispered to Melissa.

Ignore the slightly tipsy girl’s innuendo. Distract her with something pretty.
“Savannah, this is Bo.”

Bo was gorgeous with a smile that screamed he was dangerous. Definitely a different gig every night with all the perks that came with that kind of life. Not boyfriend material. Very fling worthy and quite possibly the perfect candidate for Savannah since he was on the road all the time.

“Y’all sound good, Bo; the kid is a good addition,” Melissa said.

“Thanks. You look amazing.” He kissed her cheek, then trailed his fingers down her arm, making her blush and feel all tingly, but not anything like Shane made her feel. “Brady booked this gig at the last minute. My phone got fried yesterday or I would have called you. I was hoping you’d be here. God, it’s good to see you again.”

Okay, so she had a bit of a history with Bo, not really physical, but it wasn’t for his lack of trying, or face it, with the way he looked, it wasn’t for her lack of wanting him either. Something, she wasn’t sure what, had kept her from following through with those wants. But could she settle for Bo? A guy like him could certainly take the sting out of settling.

“Why don’t you come up, Melissa, and show us how it’s done?”

“You play?” Savannah asked. “Get out.”

“Melissa’s one of those people who’s good at everything. Last summer, we were playing the Windjammer on front beach when I saw this gorgeous blonde chick in the crowd with killer green eyes,” Bo said.

“Who was a little drunk,” Melissa blushed.

“She was playing a blistering air guitar,” Bo grinned. “So I dared her to come up and play with us. I didn’t think she could do it. I was wrong.
Way
wrong.”

“And your
girlfriend
got really pissed off. All I did was play a guitar and shelooked like she was going to kill me,” Melissa laughed. “You like ’em possessive, don’t you, Bo?”

“I’ve forgotten all about her, but I’ve never forgotten you,” he said. “So, will you play with us?”

Savannah raised her glass. “This, I want to see.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t played in front of a crowd since last summer, Bo.”

“Come on, baby. You were born playing.”

After a little more coaxing and finishing off her wine, Melissa headed for the bandstand. Bo said something to the redhead; the kid looked a little embarrassed but handed his guitar over. Shane looked like he was going to come off of his barstool when Bo held Melissa’s hand up and breathed into the mic, “How ’bout a little ‘Slow Burning Love’, y’all?”

When the music began, she melted into the rhythm, eyes closed. She could feel Bo watching her face the way a lover does. His voice sounded different than he had before. He was showing off for her. If this was settling, it was hot.

He finished the first verse and leaned into her back for a slow guitar duet that was the equivalent of musical sex. Her face was flush; eyes still closed. As she dug into the song, she rolled around to face him, eyes open, unable to look away. She bit her bottom lip. The bass thumped, inviting the next verse. Bo pushed the guitar behind his back and held her face in his hands.

“When I met you baby, I did not even need to know your name. It was, oh, so plain to see, that you had eyes for me. Halfway open. Halfway closed, baby. Half-naked eyes for me.”

The hot music seemed to soothe the children in the crowd and agitate the lovers. Shane finished his drink and then slammed it down on the bar. There was nothing to be mad about. She didn’t belong to him and he didn’t belong to her.

Melissa relaxed and let the music take her where Bo wanted her to go, and he was making sure she was fully sated. The tall brunette and her date started to argue and he left. She stood up to leave and was so drunk she tottered on her very high wedges, which nobody that tall actually wore unless they were a bona fide fashion model. She righted herself and headed for straight for the parking lot.

Apparently, she owned the cute, black Mercedes coupe illegally parked near the bikes. Shane looked like he had a hard time deciding between Melissa and saving the model from killing herself if she got behind the wheel. He chose Melissa.

And then there was a horrible crunching noise. The crowd stopped watching the sex on the stage, but the music didn’t stop. Half a dozen bikes—along with Melissa and Savannah’s—were crushed under the Mercedes. The model gunned the car but it wouldn’t go. Finally, Shane went over and took her keys away. She got out of the car, screaming at him, her surgically-enhanced chest heaving. She snatched her keys back just as Shane slung her over his shoulder and put her in his truck.

Melissa kept playing, maybe to shut out the crazy in the parking lot or the fact that Bo was still musically shagging her. Bo held her face again and sang the last verse of the song. He was sexy as hell, and gorgeous, yet, Melissa couldn’t stop pretending she was playing to the crowd while she was really watching Shane drive away.

When the song ended, Bo tried to keep her on stage, but she begged off and sat down at the table with Savannah, who handed her the drink bartender had sent over for a job well done.

“My God, you were amazing,” Savannah said. “And Bo is
so
hot, and hot for you.”

Melissa shrugged, “It’s just the music.”

“I don’t think so. Did you
see
the way he looked at you? How could you not?”

“You mean the same way Jack’s looking at you now?”

Savannah had her back to him. He was leaning against the bar, drop dead gorgeous in board shorts and a t-shirt that was strangely similar to Savannah’s. Her face was flushed, not like it was yesterday when she was demanding he vacate the island. Melissa wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the pull between them that even she felt. She could feel Jack Johns wanting Savannah from all the way across the lawn, and by the look on her face, she felt it too.

“Talk to him, Savannah.” Melissa would need special protective glasses if those two got within ten feet of each other. “You obviously have feelings for him, and he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have feelings for you.”

“It’s an oyster roast and a free country last time I checked.”

“I—I told him you’d be here.”

Savannah’s chin quivered for a moment and tipped up stubbornly. Then he was standing beside her, and the energy that passed between them looked like the finale of a Fourth of July extravaganza. Whatever had happened to them in the past, it didn’t matter. They were definitely soul mates.

“Savannah.” He spoke but she turned away from him. “You still look good in my shirt.”

“G
ive me your phone,” Shane ordered.

Cassie threw it at him. He pulled off the road and looked at the recent call log.

“Is this him?” He pointed to the last number she’d dialed.

“Take me home, Shane.
Please.
” Her fingers made a trail up his thigh and he put her hand back in her lap.

“He live on the island?”

“Go to hell, Shane.”

Shane didn’t have time for this. He knew it looked bad when he hauled Cassie off, as bad as Melissa playing with that guy. He stabbed at the number and waited for the call to connect.

“What?” The guy snapped.

“Cassie screwed up. She’s sorry for whatever she did.”

“I
am
not,” she hissed.

“Who the hell are you?” the guy asked.

“I’m an old friend of hers. I met you at Morgan Creek.” And he needed to get back to the damn oyster roast. Now. “Look, she’s in no shape to drive, and she messed up her car. Can I drop her off at your place?”

“She’s your problem now,” the guy said and hung up.

Shane raked his hand over his face and handed her phone back. “Where do you live?” He pulled back onto the road, headed up Palm Boulevard.