Lowlander Silverback (Gray Back Bears #5)(3)

The Becks tuned their guitars and did a sound check while she rushed to clean up the bar to shining. And every few minutes, her eyes lifted to the door to check for Kong. An irritating habit, but she couldn’t help herself and had stopped trying weeks ago when her crush had gotten bigger.

Bar cleaned and a few drink orders refilled, she strode to the stage with a couple of light beers in glass mugs. “Are Everly and Danielle coming tonight?” she asked.

Denison shook his head as he took the drinks from her hand and set them on stools beside him and Brighton’s chairs. “Not tonight.”

“Oh, man. I was looking forward to seeing them. It’s been a couple of weeks.”

“Everly isn’t feeling well,” Brighton said in that raspy whisper of his.

“She’s sick? Oh no! You want me to get Nate to whip up some of his noodle soup? He could have it done by the time y’all finish your last set, and you can take it home to Everly.”

“It ain’t that kind of sick,” Brighton whispered with an arch to his dark eyebrow.

Layla’s face went slack, and she stepped closer. “Is she pregnant?”

A grin busted up Brighton’s face, and he nodded.

Layla squeaked and hugged his neck. “You’re not joking. You wouldn’t do that to me. She’s pregnant? Holy shit!” Dang, she was getting all misty-eyed. Brighton and his mate had been trying for a baby for a while. “I’m so happy for you. She got any cravings? I’ll get Nate on it.”

Brighton laughed silently and released her from his hug. “Not yet.”

“She’s sick as all get out, barfing all the time,” Denison said. “I feel bad for her. Danielle’s been staying with her while we’re up on the landing, and she’s taking care of her tonight while we play.”

“Aw, poor Ev. Well, if there is anything I can do, you let me know. And Brighton,” she murmured, gripping his arm, “congratulations.”

“Thanks, Layla,” he whispered through a proud grin.

“You boys let me know when you need another drink. Are you eating here tonight?”

“Maybe after the set, before we hit the road.”

“Great, just give me a heads up on your second to last song. I’ll get Nate on your regular.”

“You got it,” Denison said distractedly as he threaded a cable from one of the amps to his guitar.

Beaming with happiness, she turned and ran into a solid wall of muscle. Her face smacked right into a big, steely torso. “Shoot,” she said in a rush. “I’m sorry. I should’ve watched where I was…” She arched her neck back and looked directly into the sexy face of Kong. “…walking.”

He stared at her passively. Dark eyes steady, cheekbones sharp as ever, and those sexy lips that lifted easily into a smile for everyone but her. He stood straighter with an irritated sigh and clasped his hands behind his back. “It’s fine.”

“Hi,” she said lamely.

He took a step back and angled his face away, eyes never leaving her. His gaze dipped once to her chest, then back to her face, but he didn’t respond to her greeting. She was supposed to do something with Kong. Think! Talk to him about something. Her head was spinning from being so close to him. He was tall and strong with wide shoulders and arms that stretched the thin material of his black V-neck T-shirt. A curl of ink peeked out from under the sleeve. She wanted to lick him. Lick him. Shit. Flyer! “I need to talk to you about something.”

A single eyebrow arched even higher. Why did he only ever look annoyed around her? “About what?”

“Kong,” one of his crew members barked out from the corner.

The behemoth slid an agitated glance over his shoulder, then back to her. “Sorry, not interested in anything you have to say.”

“*!” Layla clapped her hand over her mouth as her cheeks lit on fire.

“What?” Kong asked in a low rumble.

“I want to talk to you about *.” And now she also wanted to melt into the cracks between the floorboards beneath her shoes and possibly die.

His eyes dipped to her boobs again, but when he lifted his gaze to her face, he looked pissed. “Not. Interested.”

He turned and walked away, his work boots making hollow sounds across the floor as he strode away from her.

“Oh, my gosh,” she whispered, mortified as she escaped to the bar. Other than to take drink orders, she’d never talked to him for that long, and her first sentence involved the word *? Really? She wanted to curl into a ball under the sink behind the bar.

“Thirty bucks,” Jake sang as he poured a wells beer into a tall glass.

From their table, one of Kong’s crew lifted his hand to flag her down, and she bit back the urge to beg Jake to serve their table tonight. Because really, this couldn’t get any worse. But she grabbed the crumpled flyers and made her way back to their table. Kong suddenly looked really interested in Brighton and Denison’s sound check.

A blond man with bright blue eyes ordered them a round of beers. “Do you need to write this down?” he asked when she stood there nodding.

Narrowing her eyes at his rude ass, she said, “I think I can remember three beers.” She slapped the flyers down on the table. “My boss wants me to talk to you about Shifter Night at Sammy’s. We’re going to do it on either Thursday or Friday every week, and shifters will be able to drink free—”