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CHAPTER 1
Grayson
The first thing I noticed when I stepped through the door of Lacey’s Bar & Grill in Esperance, North Carolina, was the sound. Holy fuck. When my youngest brother, Wolfe, had told me to check out indie punk band, Boudica, he’d warned me the lead singer was A LOT. I’d thought he’d been exaggerating. The lead singer, Stefania Moretti, was his fiancé’s best friend. It made sense that he’d want to help her, and that he thought he was helping me with a signing for my new record label. So yeah, now that I was here, watching her strut around the stage, I could safely say he’d barely done her justice.
I moved through the crowd to the bar, taking up position at the end closest to the stage.
The bartender came over. “What’ll it be?” He had to lean over the bar and cup his hand to his ear to catch my reply.
“Whiskey. On the rocks.” It was so loud in here, I was surprised he didn’t ask me to write it down, just to be sure.
“Coming up.”
As I waited, I scanned the bar, taking in the scene. The place was packed, people pressed shoulder to shoulder, and the energy was electric. It seemed that Wolfe had done me a solid, because this was exactly what I’d been looking for, to take my label to the next level.
“Here you go.” The bartender set the whiskey down in front of me and I handed him a twenty.
“Keep the change.”
“Thanks, man.”
I sipped my drink, letting the smoky liquid slide down my throat. It was good stuff, smooth and rich. Undoing the buttons of my suit jacket, I leaned against the bar, turning my attention back to the band. Stef was utterly captivating, her singing raw, unhinged, and completely intoxicating. There was something so wild and free about her. And that something seemed to resonate with the crowd, judging by the way everyone pushed as close to the stage as they could, creating a mosh pit in the center.
She stood at the microphone and raised her hands and the crowd fell quiet. She smiled, reveling in her power. “Alright, my little pop tarts! You gonna sing this last song with me?” The crowd cheered, pumping their fists in the air. Stef laughed, her head tipping back. She was magnetic, all long, blue hair, tattoos, and curves. Wolfe hadn’t been kidding. She was definitely A LOT.
The last song was just as loud as all the rest, and when she was done, Stef laughed again, flicking her hair back over her shoulder. “Well, thank you so much for that. Not sure about you, but I’m absolutely wired.”
More cheering and shouting from the crowd. Stef grinned, her chest heaving. She looked spent but energized at the same time.“I’m also not quite ready to leave you, so how about we keep this party going with one more?”
More applause from the crowd and a deep, throaty chuckle from Stef as her eyes scanned the room. When her gaze landed on me, I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me. She tilted her head to the side, surveying me for a long moment, before seeming to give herself a shake and turning her attention back to the crowd.
“Now, where was I? That’s right, we’ve got time for one more. And I think we should make it extra special and sing one you haven’t heard before.” She smiled at the audience’s reaction and nodded to the bass guitarist when he brought a stool over for her to sit on.
She perched on the stool, strumming her guitar. “This is a song called ‘Heart Eyes’, and it’s a little different from our usual sound. I figured we could do with something a bit more mellow, or we’ll never sleep tonight.”
Her voice was softer now, her guitar almost a whisper, but there was a depth to it, a sense of longing that resonated with the room. People swayed, heads bowed, the energy shifting from the frenetic buzz of moments earlier, to something softer, more intimate.
The way she held a room full of people in the palm of her hand, and the way her soft vibrato shivered over my skin, I knew then and there that I wanted her on my label.
When she finished the song, the crowd applauded, and she stood, taking a bow. “Thanks, everyone. You’ve been amazing.”
And that was it. The show was over. Stef stepped off the stage, the crowd pressing around her, trying to get her attention. Her hair was wild, her cheeks flushed, and she was glowing withsweat and excitement. She moved through the crowd, hugging and high-fiving people, as she made her way to the bar.
Christ, she was even more stunning, up close, with her whiskey brown eyes and full lips. She was tall, at least five foot nine, and all curves. The way she filled out the short tartan skirt and fitted shirt had my pulse leaping. Adding to that, she wore a pair of black suspenders that clung to her shirt, tracing over her shoulders and framing her silhouette. I can’t say I’d ever thought suspenders were sexy, but here we were.
She looked me over, tilting her head to one side and narrowing her eyes. Her lips curved in a cheeky smile. “Look at you, sticking out like a pimple on prom night.”
I smiled faintly. “Nice to meet you, too.”
With a laugh, she stepped up to the bar beside me. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting someone like you to turn up here.” Wiping her hand on her skirt, she held it out. “Stefania Moretti. But everyone calls me Stef.”
I took it, ignoring the tingle that ran up my arm at the touch. “Grayson Rivers.”
“Get the fuck out of here!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Completely unfazed, she said, “Of all the bars in all the world, you know. My best friend’s fiancé’s brother turns up in mine, even though we’ve never met before. What are the chances?”