Harley Jean Davidson 03 - Evil Elvis by Virginia Brown

time.”
     
    “Yeah, but I’d already escaped. Mostly.” He just looked at her and she felt a little guilty. “Okay, I concede that part. But I probably would have gotten away both times.”
     
    “Guess we’ll never know.”
     
    “Guess not.” An awkward silence fell between them. Then he looked toward the door as the announcer’s voice came over the speakers. “They’re calling my name. Got to go do my stuff.”
     
    “You’re actually going to sing? Good God. Can you sing?”
     
    “I do all right.”
     
    “I’ve got to hang around to see this.”
     
    “Don’t stay on my account. Feel free to leave.”
     
    “No way in hell. I’d give a week’s pay for this entertainment.”
     
    Morgan groaned. “I’d give a month’s pay to get out of it.”
     
    “And yet here you are.”
     
    “Here I am. Do me a favor. Go away.”
     
    “Sing to me, Elvis baby. I’ll be the blonde at the bar.”
     
    “In the short purple skirt.” He looked her up and down, and something in his gaze made her stomach flip. He still had a powerful effect on her libido. Damn him.
     
    It seemed forever but could only have been a few seconds before the announcer’s voice came over the speakers again, his words incomprehensible over the roar in her ears as her blood surged like ocean surf. She could almost smell the seaweed, see the moonlight, feel Morgan’s hands...
     
    “Later,” Morgan said, snapping her out of her brief trance, and she blinked as he turned and walked away.
     
    Why did she have to run into him again? She’d been doing all right. Now she had to wait a minute for the blood that had rushed from her head to work its way back up before she tried to walk. By the time she got back inside Morgan was performing his rendition of Suspicious Minds. He would. It was her favorite Elvis song. The rat.
     
    He gathered more than a few interested looks from the women in the crowd, swiveling his hips in a pretty good Elvis imitation, the tight black leather pants leaving little to the imagination and sparking more than a few memories. Why did they have the heat on in this place? She fanned her face with a bar napkin and tried to think of something else.
     
    Cami found her leaning against the bar. “That guy onstage right now looks pretty familiar to me, Harley. How do I know him?”
     
    Without taking her eyes from the stage, Harley said, “He’s Morgan’s twin brother.”
     
    Cami squinted at the stage. “Really? I didn’t know he had a twin.”
     
    “He doesn’t.”
     
    Cami set her drink down on the bar, but missed. Ice and vodka spilled across the counter and onto Harley’s arm. “Damn. Sorry about that. I missed the bar. Why doesn’t he have a twin?”
     
    “You’d have to ask his parents. I’m not going to have to carry you out to the car, am I?”
     
    Considering that, Cami said, as the last lyrics faded into a riff of guitar chords, “I don’t think so. I’ve only had three drinks. I’m still functioning.”
     
    Harley turned to look at her while Morgan left the stage. “Just not so well, it seems.”
     
    Cami smiled sloppily. “I’m fine.”
     
    “Uh huh. Here come Yogi and Diva. Straighten up, and we’ll leave soon.”
     
    Yogi was smiling broadly. “Did you hear the applause? They loved me!”
     
    “I’d have been shocked if they hadn’t. You were great.”
     
    “Got any pointers for me?”
     
    “Yes, a little less melodrama with the cape. Other than that, don’t change a thing.”
     
    Yogi nodded happily. Diva smiled serenely. Harley sighed enviously. It’d be nice to live in their world.
     
    Her world currently required that she get her drunken friend to the car, however. Of course, they’d had to park in the very back of the crowded lot. I-55 and a chain link fence edged the parking area, and she tried to remember just where she’d left her Toyota. Headlights of passing cars on the interstate and overhead vapor lights provided enough illumination for her