Stacy's Dad Has Got It Going On (7 page)

Savannah pulled back. She quickly
grabbed her ginger ale, brought the straw to her mouth, and sipped while Eric
looked out across Kingsley’s pub. In an instant, his eyes brightened. “Hey,
look! It’s Stacy!”

Though Eric waved both hands above his
head to get his daughter’s attention, Savannah didn’t turn around. “Where is
she?”

“She can’t see me from way over here.”
Eric pointed toward the stage. “Look, she’s helping the band get organized?
Isn’t this exciting? My daughter’s a roadie!”

Only a father could be so proud of his
daughter for lending a hand to an unknown garage band in a dirty little pub.
Savannah still couldn’t bring herself to look. Stacy was probably up there
canoodling with Dread Head. The very idea made her dizzy.

How could she sit across from the very
handsome Eric and be jealous that Stacy was over there stealing Chris from her?
First of all, Chris was just another idealistic college boy. There were plenty
like him. Sure, he possessed some intangible quality Savannah found immensely
alluring, but she could actually put her fingers on all the personal
characteristics she found charming in Eric. Eric had sparkling blue eyes, great
hair, a magnificent body—which she’d already seen naked—and he was generous,
intelligent, funny, and had the kind of job Savannah believed in. Not just
that, but they shared the same taste in food and television!

“Oh, look, look!” Eric whispered,
pointing to the stage. “Stacy’s up there!”

Savannah turned around just in time to
catch Stacy’s eye. Her pixie face alighted and she waved before wrapping her
hand around the microphone. “Hey, everybody! Thanks for coming out tonight.
Kingsley’s has been kind enough to let me introduce a great new band called
Circle Six. I listened in on their rehearsal this afternoon and, wow, they are
amazing. You’re going to love them. Trust me. So, I’m just going to get out of
the way and let them do their thing.”

When Stacy slipped out from behind the
microphone to climb down from the stage, Savannah bit down on her straw. No
wonder she couldn’t find that damn Sailor Moon shirt—Stacy was wearing it! And
it looked damn good on her, too. Savannah had to sigh. What difference did it
make now? She’d rather impress Eric than Chris, and anyway, the shirt fit tiny
little Stacy much better than it would have fit her. With Savannah’s big boobs
underneath it, the cartoon character would have looked like a lop-sided
bobble-head.

As Stacy took a seat right beside the
stage, their waitress came around to deliver two salmon wraps and heaps of fries.
Savannah had to peek around the waitress to see a mousy girl with long brown
hair approach the microphone. Bringing her hair forward to cover her eyes, she
said, “I get nervous in front of crowds, so I’m just going to hide back here.”

“Aww,” Eric whispered. “Poor thing,
hiding behind her hair...”

“I didn’t know there was a girl in the
band,” Savannah said, more to herself than to Eric.

It was their waitress who responded.
“She’s got a really pretty voice, but she has, like, anxiety attacks about
singing in public.”

For some reason, Savannah had thought
Chris was the band’s lead singer. Maybe because he’d mentioned songwriting when
they spoke. But no, Chris stood stage left of the mousy girl and backed her up
on the violin as a nerdy-looking Asian guy generated atmospheric percussive
sounds from a laptop.

“Bands sure have changed since I was
young,” Eric whispered as he lifted his salmon wrap to his mouth.

Savannah didn’t respond right away.
The music was so captivating she didn’t even want to chew while the band
played. And that waitress was right—damn, that girl could sing! Savannah
couldn’t exactly make out the lyrics, but the sound of her voice was
entrancing. She watched Chris play, though the girl with the long hair largely
blocked her view of him. He looked really into the music, like every ounce of
his energy was going into producing this wonderful sound.

“What kind of music would you call
this?” Eric asked between bites of salmon wrap.

Savannah hadn’t even looked at her
dinner yet. She spritzed her fries with malt vinegar before popping a few in
her mouth. She didn’t feel right about talking while the band was playing, and
so she waited until their first song was done before answering. “I guess you
could call this Trip Hop. It’s almost ambient, but not quite. I think of
ambient music as not having lyrics.”

“Do you like it?” he asked her.

Even with a mouthful of fries,
Savannah nodded vigorously. “Yeah. Oh my god, I totally do. I thought they’d be
some stupid grunge revival band, but I love music like this.” She’d already
taken a bite of her salmon wrap before realizing she should ask, “Do you like
it?”

His voice was high and wavering when
he answered, and that made Savannah think he was probably lying. “Yeah, it’s
very…mesmerizing. I usually prefer music with a stronger beat, but this is
nice.”

Chris was now at the microphone
introducing the next song. As much as she wanted to listen to what he was
saying, she just couldn’t let herself. “You seem like the kind of person who
would like classical music,” she said, to block out Chris’ voice.

With a nod, Eric said, “Yeah, I do,
but if I had to choose a favourite it would be old school rock.”

“How old school?” Savannah laughed.
“Like
Great Balls of Fire
or like
Smoke on the Water
?”

Eric laughed. “
Smoke on the Water
,
I’d say. Or, I don’t know…I mean, The Doors would be the ultimate, right?”

“Well, is this stuff so far off from
The Doors?” Savannah considered. “I mean, really, it’s not…”

When the band started their next song,
Savannah went instantly silent. Though she hated to do it, she turned away from
Eric to watch, and picked food from her plate without looking in his direction.
It wasn’t just Chris who had her so entranced—it was the sound of Circle Six.
She’d never heard anything exactly like their music. Bands like theirs didn’t
get much press, or any radio airtime. If you wanted to listen to this type of
music, you really had to seek it out. Savannah was glad she’d stumbled upon
this group, even if it was populated by freaks, geeks, and the guy who’d so disappointed
her.

By the end of their set, Savannah had
enjoyed her fill of fries, salmon, and ginger ale. Eric had cleaned his plate
long before, and was obviously holding on for Savannah’s sake. Even the
waitress had pushed the bill in their direction. She obviously wanted to seat
drinkers of alcohol, who would be inclined to leave her a larger tip. It seemed
strange to Savannah, to think that her entire meal cost about the same price
other people were willing to pay for one cocktail or glass of wine. But
whatever. It was their money.

“I guess Stacy’s too busy with the
band to come over and give her old dad a hug,” Eric said, gazing at his
daughter as she climbed up on stage to embrace the band’s three members.

Savannah retreated behind the wall of
their booth when Stacy started talking to Chris and pointing in their
direction. Her heart thumped against her ribs. Were Stacy and Chris talking
about her? Or was Stacy just saying, “Hey, look, that’s my dad over there”? Or
were they speculating about why, exactly, Savannah and Eric were eating dinner
together? What were they saying?

She wasn’t going to wait to find out.
Glancing at their bill, Savannah threw a pile of cash down on the table and
tossed her bag over her shoulder. Without turning toward the stage, she slipped
out of the booth and said to Eric, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Oh. Okay, sure.” He appeared
understandably confused, but shuffled out of the booth and followed her quick
steps toward the door.

The sweet aroma on the night air
calmed her buzzing head. For a moment, she simply stood on the sidewalk outside
Kingsley’s and wondered what to do. Right was the direct route home. Left was
the scenic path along the river. There were plenty of benches under trees and
burnt-out path lights, perfect for making out in public. It was such a romantic
walk, that way. Midweek, she’d imagined she’d be taking it with Chris, but
Chris was, apparently, indisposed.

Savannah looked both ways, and then
turned toward the river.

Chapter Eight

“I hope you won’t find it churlish if
I throw a little cash your way,” Eric said, taking his wallet from his back
pocket and pulling out a few bills. “To cover dinner, I mean. It’s not because
you’re a girl…I mean, a woman…or…well, it’s only because you’re the student and
I’m the one with the full-time job, and it’s only fair. Right?”

Savannah stopped walking to lean
against the barrier separating the cobblestone path from the moonlit river. His
distinguished male feminism made her smile. “Put your money away,” she said,
pressing her hand against the bills and his fingers.

A spark passed between them. Savannah
couldn’t ignore it, but she couldn’t acknowledge it either. The heady
atmosphere of rushing water and pine-scented moonlight made her bold. Eric must
have felt the same way, because he moved his hand slowly toward Savannah’s
purse, unzipped the outer pocket, and pushed his money inside. Her pelvis
quaked as she watched his fingers press that money between fold of supple
leather. Already, her body was wet for him, and still the night was young!

“Have you ever cheated on your wife?”
Savannah asked. She felt somewhat like a precocious child, looking him straight
in his sparkling blue eyes as she posed the question. Yesterday, she’d hoped
and prayed the topic of his wife’s affair wouldn’t come up. Now she was pushing
for it. Her motives were transparent, even to her—if she got Eric bummed about
his cheating wife, maybe he’d be more inclined to give Savannah a go.

Eric seemed to hold his breath for a
strangely long time before releasing it in a loud puff. “No,” he said. “I’ve
never cheated.”

Grabbing his hand, Savannah sauntered
with him along the riverside path. “Have you ever wanted to?”

When he went quiet, Savannah was
certain his response would be momentous. Eric wove his fingers through hers and
squeezed her hand tight. “I never considered it for a moment until Hilary…” He
gazed out onto the river. “…until she did what she did. And now, yes, I hate
myself for it, but I want to get back at her. It feels so wrong, this desire to
hurt the mother of my child, but…”

“It’s payback,” Savannah said simply.

“That’s exactly what it would be,
yes.” Eric let go of her hand and slowed his pace. “But I don’t want revenge
sex. I mean, I do, but I don’t. I’m not that type of person. I’ve never made
love to a woman I didn’t love. It’s always seemed pointless until…”

Savannah waited, and when he said
nothing she asked, “Until now?”

Her heart nearly stopped beating as
she waited for his response. She looked to his eyes, but he was still gazing out
across the river. His shoulders rose and fell as he took in each breath, and
his brow furled as though an internal struggle demanded to be expressed
outwardly.

She couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
Easing her hands around his middle, Savannah pulled Eric’s body close to hers.
He jerked away, but there was nowhere left to go. His backside met with the
firm barrier, and he was trapped between Savannah and the river. A rush of
feminine wile roared through Savannah’s body. She’d never in her life felt so seductive.
The harder she squeezed Eric’s chest against hers, the less he squirmed.
Finally, his body weakened, gave up, and then responded.

Taking Savannah’s face in his decisive
hands, Eric jerked her head forward. He didn’t kiss her—not at first. His mouth
simply hovered against hers as he released tormented, ginger-sweet breath.
Passion lingered all around, and the air felt static and thick. Finally, in one
violent move, Eric pressed his trembling lips against hers. His body shuddered.
She squeezed him tighter. His hard cock pressed against her belly until her
panties pooled with warm wetness. How much longer could she stand this
sensation of lips on lips before she’d have to kiss him fully?

She didn’t have to wait long at all.
Within seconds, Eric launched his tongue between her lips and kissed her like a
man maddened by passion. Grasping the back of her head with one hand, Eric sent
the other searching her body for anything it could squeeze—her ass, he hips,
her thighs, her tits. She did the same, running frenzied hands along his back
and clutching his tight ass.

“My god, you have a great butt,” she
whimpered.

“My god, so do you!” he hissed into
her ear before pulling her back into a kiss from which there was no escape,
physical or emotional. She was trapped between the hot silken walls of Eric’s
mouth. He might never set her free. As he kissed her, he wrapped firm fingers
around her neck. Without warning, he plunged his other hand down the front of
her jeans.

Savannah gasped, but Eric would not
set her free from his mouth. His fingers swept by her belly before crawling
through her bush. She couldn’t believe he was doing something so gritty, but
there was no denying it. His fingers found her wetness—not that finding pussy
juice under Savannah’s panties was such a difficult task. Hell, her jeans were
sopping! She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so turned on by a man’s
fingers.