News
TIA
Tia couldn’t believeher eyes. Lyons rocked it beside the men of Angel Fire and tore up the stage. Skye bounced next to her, eyes alight and fixed on her husband, Angel Fire’s lead singer and guitarist. Tia listened to the haunting melody of Ash Dean’s voice but couldn’t take her eyes off Lyons playing the bass guitar. There was something sexy and erotic as sin, watching him play that thing, and she couldn’t peel her eyes away from him stroking the long neck of the guitar. Powerful and sensual, it did strange things to her insides. She bit at her lower lip and struggled to push needy thoughts from her mind. In that task, she failed miserably.
Lyons was having a blast. She could see it in his eyes and in how he breathed in the energy of the music. He looked out onto the crowd, as if only just realizing there were hundreds watching him. It took a moment, but then those vibrant forest-green eyes of his locked on her. The power of his gaze hitched her breath, accelerated the beat of her heart, and licked fire across her skin. After their fight earlier and his interference between her and the band members, she wanted to hate him but couldn’t ignore a brimming curiosity coiling in her gut.
They shared a close working relationship, but that was where it ended. At least, that was what she’d always believed. After their argument in that alley, something had shifted between them, stirring up feelings she had no right to even consider.
A storm churned through his eyes, and his jaw became a stony block of determination. Something hardened in his face as he took her in. The world twisted and tilted, becoming something dangerously new and exciting under his scrutiny. His breaths huffed in and out while he jammed beside the Angel Fire bassist, Bent. The two of them dueled it out onstage, challenging the other to play harder and stronger until the crowd roared and nearly overpowered the music.
They were in the middle of “Hunting Waterfalls” when Ash pulled Lyons back to the center of front stage. Ash gave Lyons a signal and tapped the wireless mic. Lyons’s eyes widened.
The refrain came and went. Ash let the music play but dropped the vocals. He stepped to the very edge of the stage and called out to the crowd, “How’s he doing, Bagram Airfield? How’s Sergeant Lyons holding up?”
The rumble from the crowd crashed into her with all the power and subtlety of a freight train. Lyons stopped playing and waved to the troops, looking unsure for the first time that evening.
“He’s got some pipes, too,” Ash continued. “And I know you want to hear him sing.”
Tia caught the subtle clenching of Lyons’s jaw. She would’ve missed it, except she’d seen him under stress before. It took a lot to rattle Ryker Lyons, but he was in front of a large crowd of fellow airmen, soldiers, and Marines, and he’d never back down from that challenge. Perhaps Ash had known that, too.
Without waiting for Lyons to agree, Ash belted out the lyrics and led Lyons right into the harmonizing vocals. For a moment, she thought Lyons would choke, but he stepped up to the plate and struck her speechless with the rich timbre coming from his mouth.
Deep, soulful, magnetic, and raw, the man could sing! She didn’t think the energy surrounding her could build any higher, but Lyons singing with Ash blew the roof off the hangar. He had her heart thundering beneath the intensity of his gaze because his eyes never once left hers throughout that song, the next one, or the one that followed.
Angel Fire played several other songs. Each left her gasping for air and ramped up her pulse, sending her blood racing. Goose bumps shivered across her skin, and the hairs on her nape stood on end. It was electric, spellbinding, and left her speechless, gaping with awe.
“They’re pretty incredible,” Skye shouted over the din.
“Beyond incredible,” she said. “Is it always like this?”
“Most days,” Skye yelled into her ear to be heard over the crowd. “This feels different—more power, more energy. I can feel the electricity rolling off Ash and the boys.”
Tia could only shake her head, dumbfounded.
Skye tugged at Tia’s sleeve. “There’s only a couple of more songs before they’re done. I’m going to head back. I find, if I wait for the last song, I have to fight my way backstage, and I’ve gotten tired of having to do that.”
Tia wanted to listen to the last songs but could see what Skye was talking about. With a nod, she followed Skye. Her friend worked her way to the edge of the crowd and made her way to the back of the hangar. Angel Fire had removed much of the protective barriers they would normally have at a concert, but backstage, Skye had to show her credentials and vouch for Tia. They made it to the silence of the hangar’s break room, which had been turned into a backstage dressing room for Angel Fire.
Skye found a coffeemaker. “So, what’s going on, Tia?” After washing out the coffee pot, she searched through the cabinets and soon had a fresh pot simmering away.
Tia sat at the long break room table where she stared at the door, waiting for the band to come back and chill out after the show. “Nothing’s going on,” she said.
“Uh-huh,” Skye said.
“How long does it usually take them after the show ends?”
“To come backstage?”
“Yeah.”
Skye flipped her long brown hair. It settled in a gentle fall at her waist. Tia’s hair was slightly longer than Skye’s, but she never had the opportunity to wear it down. Every day, she twisted it up into a tight regulation bun secured at her nape. On deployment, even her off-duty time, her raven hair was locked up tight. It was simply easier to deal with and avoided unwanted attention from the men.
“It depends on the venue,” Skye explained. “Sometimes, they come straight back, especially when…” Her cheeks pinked. “Well, when they know groupies are waiting.”
“That must be hard for you, always worrying about Ash and those women.”
“You’d think so, but it’s not. Before I came along, Ash was just as bad as the rest of the band, but he said it left him feeling empty.”
