Almost in Love (8 page)

“Daisy,” Barry said, “meet my brother Ian. And this is Amber.”

Ian only had eyes for Daisy. He lifted her hand and kissed it. “I hope to see a lot more of you, beautiful.”

Daisy raised a brow. Barry pulled his brother away from Daisy. “She’s married and pregnant. Move on.”

Daisy shook her head and smiled. “Thanks anyway, cutie.”

“How are you?” Barry asked Amber.

“Fine.” Amber’s expression was hard to read, not angry, but not friendly either.

Ian turned his attention to Amber, his eyes lingering on her bare midriff. “You are smokin’. Woo!”

Amber’s eyes flashed. “Get lost, twerp.”

“Feisty, I like it,” Ian said with a grin.

A smile tugged at her lips. “Shut up,” she said with no real force behind it.

Barry pulled his brother down the hall toward the stairs. “We’ll see you later.”

Ian stopped and turned. “Hey, you ladies want to grab a bite?”

Daisy giggled. “No, thanks. Bye!”

The brothers headed downstairs and out to the parking lot. Barry waited until they were in the car to ream his brother out.

“Didn’t I tell you Amber was the one I was interested in?” he barked.

“Yeah, so?”

“So that was Amber you were flirting with!”

He pulled out of the lot and headed to Eastman for dinner. He wouldn’t stand a chance with Amber if Ian was going for her too.

“That was
the
Amber?” Ian asked. “She’s hot.”

“No kidding.”

“No offense, bro, but she’s way out of your league.”

“Thanks.”

“She lives across the hall?”

“Yes.”

“Okay if I hit that?”

Barry did a double take. “No, it’s not okay if you hit that. She’s the one I’m crazy about. Don’t you dare make a move on her, Ian, or I swear I’ll kick you out. You’ll have to stay with Mom or go back to campus with no babes whatsoever.”

A beat passed.

“What about Daisy?” Ian asked.

Barry groaned. “What part of married and pregnant did you not understand?”

“She’s super hot.”

“Is this gonna be a problem?”

“I can’t help it, bro, I love women. And the women in this town are fine.”

“Just”—he unclenched his jaw with great effort—“leave Amber to me.”

“No prob. I’ll be your wingman.”

“I don’t need—”

“Yeah, you do. ‘How are you?’ is not gonna get you laid.”

Barry ground his teeth.

“Just sayin’.” Ian pulled out his cell and started texting.

Barry took a deep breath.

“And ditch the Hawaiian shirts,” Ian said. “That’s only cool in Hawaii.”

“I thought they were fun.”

Ian glanced up, taking in the green Hawaiian shirt with surfers. “Fine. Wear them. Your deprivation.”

Okay, fine, no Hawaiian shirts. That left T-shirts. Sure, they were comfortable, but there wasn’t much flair to them. Barry drove to Ernie’s diner in Eastman because he was afraid if they ate at Garner’s in Clover Park, Ian would hit on more married women that were also Barry’s customers. Geez, his brother was much worse since the last time they’d hung out together. Ian’s success with the ladies on campus had really inflated his ego.

After dinner, Ian searched for community theater info on his cell while Barry drove.

“I got it, bro. Eastman has a summer production of
The Pirates of Penzance
. Women love pirates. You’re gonna be set.”

“Playing a pirate sounds fun. Yeah, I could do that.”

“Not just a pirate. You, my friend, will be the Pirate King!”

He cocked a brow. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. King is the top dog. I’ll pull up a song on YouTube so you can rehearse. Audition is next week.”

Nerves ran through Barry. It had been years since he’d been on stage. He’d been too busy in college and then too busy with work. He did like to perform. He performed every day at The Dancing Cow, entertaining the kids. He supposed it was like riding a bike. And if it gave him a much-needed confidence boost, maybe he could find some way to make that translate into getting Amber back into his arms.

~ ~ ~

Amber smoothed another coat of black paint onto a wooden pirate ship cutout for the Eastman community theater’s summer production of
The Pirates of Penzance
, with help from her friend Steph. She painted scenery for all of their summer shows ever since Steph had started singing in the chorus five years ago. They were at Eastman High School in the large band room just across the hall from the auditorium.

“So what part are you playing this summer?” Amber asked.

Steph had just auditioned a few minutes ago. Her friend said teaching fifth graders made it easy to get up on stage in front of an audience. She was prepared for anything.

“I’m one of the Major-General’s daughters,” Steph said. “I don’t know which one yet. They haven’t posted the cast list. Any of them is fine. I doubt I’ll get Mabel. Zoe Davis auditioned again this year. Her voice is amazing.”

“Cool.”

Amber knew Zoe through Daisy. They’d hung out a few times at Daisy’s parties.

“You should try out this year,” Steph said, slapping paint on in a way that Amber knew would leave lines. She’d smooth it out for her in a minute. “It’s not too late. It would be so fun to do the show together.”

Steph was always trying to get Amber to join the show. Amber usually just volunteered to paint scenery, which took about a week, then left. Amber dipped her brush in more black paint and smoothed the lines Steph had left. No matter how many times she’d told her friend how to paint smoothly in layers, she never did.

“I wouldn’t like being on stage,” Amber said.

“Try out for the Major-General’s daughters. Then I’d be right next to you.”

Amber shook her head. “That’s okay.”

“Aren’t you even curious what it’s like to be in the cast? It’s so fun, all the rehearsals over the summer, and we go out after rehearsal a lot, plus the show, and the cast party. It becomes like a family by the end.”

Amber brushed back and forth. The black would need another coat after this one. “I’m good with just painting.”

Steph put her brush down and stood. “Come on. Just watch some of the auditions. I really want you to do this with me.”

She stopped painting and looked up. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been moping around, and I know you’re just going to spend the whole summer holed up in your apartment, painting.”

“I’ll go out sometimes.”

“With who? I’ll be busy here, and Daze is up to her eyeballs teaching infant massage classes and chasing Bryce around. Come on, hang out with me here this summer. It’ll be a blast.”

Amber heaved a sigh. “You’re not gonna stop bugging me about this, are you?”

Steph grinned. “No. I really want you to give it a try this year.” She held out her hand and pulled a reluctant Amber to her feet. “Obviously you like the shows, or you wouldn’t help out every year.”

“I just like to paint. I’m only here because of you, my friend.”

Steph stomped her foot in mock outrage. “Get your ass out to that auditorium.”

Amber laughed. “Fine, Miss Bossy. I’ll watch a bit, but no promises.”

She capped the paint cans and followed her friend to the auditorium. She slipped into a seat next to Steph near the front. The director, Toby, the stage manager, Edith, and the choreographer, Jasmine, sat in the row in front of them, evaluating each person. Right now, a guy with a huge beer belly was giving a version of “I am a Pirate King” that was nearing the high range of a soprano singer. His T-shirt didn’t quite meet the waistband of his sagging jeans, and he kept hitching up his pants.

Steph cringed as the man’s voice cracked. She and Steph exchanged a look.

“That’s how I would sound,” Amber whispered.

“How does a big guy like that have such a girly voice?” Steph whispered back.

The song mercifully ended. No one clapped.

“Thank you,” Toby said. “Cast list will be posted this evening at five p.m. Next!”

A tall man bounded on stage in full pirate regalia—white, puffy shirt unbuttoned to show off lots of muscular chest, a black bandana tied rakishly around his shaggy hair, a thick black belt with a sword on one side, tight black breeches, and knee-high black leather boots.

“Wow,” Steph breathed.

“Yeah,” Amber said. She leaned forward, straining to see his face. Something about him was familiar.

“Ahoy, landlubbers!” he called into the audience. “I am the Pirate King!”

Amber leaned so far forward she nearly fell out of her seat. She knew that voice. Bare. Was it really him?

The man nodded to the pianist, the music started, and he launched into “I am a Pirate King” with a booming baritone that filled the auditorium. He sang, he strutted, he swaggered, even brandished his sword a few times. He finished with a dramatic bow.

Everyone clapped.

Bare slid his sword back into its sheath and inclined his head. “Thank ye, ye scurvy lot.”

Toby stood. “Who are you?”

“I am the Pirate King.”

Toby grinned. “You are now. I’m the director, Toby Whalen. We’re so glad you stopped by today. Rehearsals start Monday night.”

Bare nodded once and exited stage right.

“I’ll be right back,” Amber told Steph before slipping out of the auditorium. She hoped to catch Bare before he left. She caught sight of his back as he was heading down the hallway to the exit.

“Bare?” she called.

He turned. “Amber?”

“What are you doing here?” they asked at the same time.

“I’m auditioning,” he said at the same time as she said, “I’m painting.”

He crossed to her, and she felt herself flush. The white shirt, open to the waist, gave her an eyeful of chest and abs. Wow. She forced her eyes up to meet his, which were sparkling with mischief.

“Speak again, m’lady, if you dare,” he growled. “Explain what ye do here.”

A thrill ran through her. She almost forgot it was Bare for a moment there. She licked her lips. “I paint the scenery.”

“Ah. Had me an audition for the Pirate King.”

“I know. You were amazing! I didn’t know you could sing.”

“Arrr, matey, sing, loot, pillage, fight with me sword.”

Sword. Her eyes dropped to his crotch hugged snugly by the breeches. She felt her face flame. What was wrong with her? He hadn’t meant that kind of sword!

She met his warm brown eyes again. “You don’t have to talk like a pirate.”

It was confusing her. Friendly and sexy were getting crossed. And wasn’t she mad at him for something?

He grinned devilishly. “Aye aye, me beauty.”

“Oh.” She giggled. “Have you done a lot of theater?”

“Aye, wench, but it’s been a while.” His voice, low and scraping, registered on a deep, throbbing level.

“Too long?” she asked. Only they weren’t talking about theater anymore.

He leered at her, letting his eyes trail up and down her body. “Saucy wench.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe the way you just belted that song out.”

“Believe. Aye, truth is, me singing is a regular thing.” He stepped closer, and his voice rumbled close to her ear. “Me shower knows the tale.”

Her throat went dry as she pictured him naked in the shower.
Stop that, you dirty brain.
This was her friend and neighbor Bare. Regular old Bare. Good ole…Bare.

“So…okay,” she said, suddenly tongue-tied as their gazes collided. She had the strangest urge to step right into his arms and let him carry her off to his pirate ship and have his wicked way with her.

She cleared her throat. “I’d better get back to painting.” She gestured in the direction of the band room. “The pirate ship is huge. It’s going to need at least two coats of black.”

He gave her a rakish salute with a wink that left her speechless.

“Will ye be at rehearsal on Monday night, wench?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” she breathed. “I’ll be there.”

He gave her a slow smile, and it was like the sun had suddenly come out and shone its sexy good looks all over her body. “That be good news.”

He turned and strutted out the back door.
Look at that ass. You could bounce a quarter off it.
She quickly averted her eyes and moved back to the band room in a daze.

A short while later, Steph joined her. “There you are! I was wondering if you were ever coming back. So show business isn’t for you, huh?”

Amber looked over. “Need anyone on stage crew?”

Steph clapped. “We’d love to have you! Yay!” She picked up her brush and resumed painting. “Wasn’t that Pirate King amazing?”

“I know him.” She got a jolt remembering his sexy smile in the hallway. “It’s that guy I told you about—Bare. He lives across the hall.”

Steph’s jaw dropped. “That’s Barry? The way you described him I pictured a total geek. I mean, the Hawaiian shirts, the dancing cow thing—”

“I know. He surprised me.”

Steph shook her head. “It’s a good thing you’re sticking around. The women in the cast are gonna be all over him. Maybe some of the guys too.”

Amber couldn’t blame them. She hummed to herself as she painted. Nope, couldn’t blame them one bit.

Barry had to admit his brother’s advice had worked. He got the part and already had a very sexy talk with Amber as a result. He hoped he’d have the same effect on her at tonight’s rehearsal out of costume. On his brother’s advice, he’d traded his Hawaiian shirts for some new solid-colored T-shirts. He couldn’t resist dressing all in black for his first rehearsal. He was a pirate, after all. He wore a black T-shirt with black pants. Then, because he couldn’t be a dashing pirate without it, he tied on the black bandana and the belt with the sword.

He arrived early to find a few of the cast hanging out, sitting on the edge of the stage. The director wasn’t there yet.

“Ahoy, me hearties,” he boomed before sitting next to them.

“Who are you?” a smooth voice asked. It was the guy next to him.

“I’m the Pirate King.”

“I’m Frederic,” the guy cooed.

“Then we will cross swords,” Barry replied. Frederic and the Pirate King had several scenes and a sword fight together.

The guy raised his brows. “I hope so.” He held out a hand. “Zac.”

“Barrett.” What the hell, he could be anyone he wanted to be when it came to theater. He was tired of being shlubby old Barry. “You can call me Bare.” He loved it when Amber called him that.