Page 84 of What About Love

For the next thirty minutes, they watched Joanna Davis in her element, as she danced, sang, and played air guitar like a teenager to the songs of Pat Benatar, Bon Jovi, the Scorpions, andHeartache Tonightby the Eagles that got the whole lounge on their feet clapping and singing along. No vanilla club girl walking in and seeing this would suspect this was a kink club.

Angie looked on, somewhat distracted from her misery by Joanna’s infectious joy in the music and surprised at how many of the songs she knew. With the next one, Joanna stunned them all as the conservative suburban housewife, mother of two, grandmother twice over, a fundraiser for the local USO and military families, former director and volunteer at the safe house network for abused women, and wife of a highly decorated two-star general, climbed onto her chair. Caught unawares, the girls could only stare when her next step put her on the tabletop where she began dancing in her sky-high red heels.

Lexie, who knew her the best, shook her head with worry. “Did she have to play Steve Perry? She goes apeshit over him. The only reason her bedroom isn’t wallpapered with posters of the man is because the general put his foot down.”

“Who?” Angie asked, clueless. No one answered because Elena did it for them as she belted out the first line of the Journey classic,Anyway You Want It.

All eyes at the table were on Joanna, all the women ready to catch her if she stumbled. They hadn’t hit the second chorus before a tall, sexy, still handsome as sin and looking as if he were twenty years younger than he was, Peter Davis appeared at their table. He peered up at his bride of three decades with a completely smitten look on his face while waiting for her to notice his presence.

When she did, he shook his head, unable to contain his grin as he held up a hand for her. No one could mistake it for other than what it was, a silent command to get down.

“But, master,” she implored with a pretty pout, “this is my payment for winning our bet. Besides, it’s Journey.” The emphasis she put on the band’s name told everyone that they held a special place in her heart and in her past.

“Dance, sing, and play to your heart’s content, my love, but do it on the floor. I have plans for you tonight, Joanna, and they do not include a ride to the emergency room when you take a header off a table.”

She stopped dancing and returned his grin.

“What kind of plans?”

“That’s a surprise for later. Come on down.”

With a look of adoration for her husband that rivaled his for her a moment before, she bent and placed her hands on his broad shoulders. Her friends, every one of them, entranced by the romantic scene playing out in front of them, sighed as he caught her around the waist and swung her down from the table.

He didn’t let her go when her feet touched down; instead, he bent her over his arm in a deep, dramatic dip and kissed her passionately. As Elena segued into the heart-thumping beat of Journey’sLovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’,the general made them all melt, as he plastered his wife’s body against his, hip to hip, chest to chest, one large hand gripping her behind, and danced—well, more like slowly sway—with a beaming Joanna entwined in his arms.

At the end of the song, Elena announced another break. The lights came up a bit, while the general handed Jo back into her seat and gave her another long, lingering kiss. Then, he warned with a hushed, “Be a good girl, now,” and in a blink was gone.

Angie, who had taken it all in, was convinced she’d never find a man who could share that depth of feeling, or the same love and connection that Joanna clearly shared with her man. It was the same for the twins, Elena, Lexie, and Mara. All of them had found love, the kind she wanted to have with T.

Despondent, she threw back another shooter and laid her head on the table, muttering downheartedly, “Men suck.”

Joanna, still flushed and dreamy-eyed from the unexpected dance with her master, turned her way. “They can, honey, especially ones of the dominant variety, although they usually have redeeming qualities that make up for it. Tell us what happened.”

Angie snorted derisively then with the buzz of four tequila shots flowing through her veins, the alcohol did as it always did. It loosened her tongue and had her zipping off a response to Joanna’s directive without thinking.

“Just because theycanfuck you insensate against a wall doesn’t mean that they should.”

As one, the other women gasped.

“It’s Lil T, isn’t it?” Megan guessed.

Seeing no reason to hide it any longer, Angie nodded unhappily.

A pink-tipped finger pointed at her as her cousin exclaimed, “I knew it. Ever since you got back from LA, both of you have been moping around like heartsick teenagers.”

“I have, but I doubt he has moped for a minute.”

“Not true,” Lexie put in. “He hasn’t played in weeks. Jonas commented on it just the other day. He’s either been away on Rossi business or on DM duty.”

“That may be true, but he hasn’t changed his tune. At least not as of an hour ago.”

Megan reached for Angie’s hand across the table and squeezed. “Oh, cuz. Why didn’t you listen when we told you he was a player?”

“I did, but I guess I’m more into pain than I realized, and apparently, I like mine self-inflicted.” Angie stood, searching for the waitress. Flagging her down, she promptly ordered two more shooters as her friends looked on with concern.

Not twenty minutes had passed when she counted six empties and eight demolished lime wedges in front of her, the waitress having cleared at least two shot glasses away. She was considering another round when Megan sat bolt upright in her chair and announced in a noisy whisper, “He’s here.”

Sobering fractionally, she followed her gaze and saw the top of his dark head as he moved toward the bar. “He was supposed to be out of town. That’s the only reason I came.” Blinded by tears that threatened to overflow, she choked out, “I’ve got to get out of here.”

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