The Sextet - Dirty Dancing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by The Sextet

is, if his facial hair could be trusted.
    A fresh-faced young girl popped up between the two men to call for a glass of white wine.
    Thankful for the excuse to avoid Rhys’s gaze, Geneva filled the glass and rang up the bill. As she handed the girl her change, she couldn’t help noticing the studious manner in which both Sean and Rhys ignored the little angel’s existence.
    “Hi, I’m Linda,” she said. “You two are in the band, right?”
    Sean nodded. “Yes, luv, and don’t worry. We’ll be sure to sing a song just for you.” He spoke quickly, his gazed fixed above Linda’s head, never meeting her eyes at all. His reply was a pleasantry, no more.
    Linda darted a glance at Rhys, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “Do you ever dance with your fans?”
    Rhys’s signature charm slipped for an instant. “Rarely.”
    Linda stood waiting for a moment, but neither of them asked for a dance. “Oh, well, then. Maybe after the show?”
    Geneva decided it was time to intervene. “I’ve never seen them dance with anyone, honey.” She almost added, “Run along, now,” though, in truth, she welcomed the distraction.
    Sean and Rhys, however, were obviously in no mood to be fawned over by a lovesick fangirl, no matter how cute she was. Geneva hated to see Linda’s feelings get hurt, but, fortunately, the girl took the hint and backed off.
    “You could have been a little nicer,” Geneva scolded.
    Rhys shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one who made her leave.”
    “True,” Sean agreed. “Why would you do that?”
    Geneva shot him a grim smile. “Oh, I think you can guess.”
    Sean shook his head. “No clue. Enlighten me.”
    “I’ve heard the stories. Four men and one woman? You guys would kill her.”
    Rhys grinned. “Possibly. You, on the other hand, would be perfect for the job.”
    “You astonish me,” Geneva said dryly. “The way I hear it, I’m not ‘perfect’ enough for any man.” She didn’t bother try to tone down the bitter edge in her voice. Hugh had pushed her tolerance to the limit and beyond.
    “Ah, but you are perfect—or would be if you gave us a chance.” Rhys cocked his head to one side. “You’ve never taken us seriously, have you?”
    “Is there a reason I should? The idea is preposterous.”
    “It wouldn’t kill you to try.”
    “No? Actually, I think it would. I already feel a bit maimed, and that’s only what one man did to me.”
    Sean nodded. “So it’s true, then.”
    “Oh, yeah—and it’s not like I tried to keep any secrets from him, either. Still, to have him throw it in my face like that…”
    “Throw what in your face?” Rhys asked gently, the concern in his eyes a shocking contrast to his previous attempts to charm her.
    “That I can’t have children. I told him right up front. He said he didn’t want to be a parent. He changed his mind, of course. At least, that’s what he told me. I think it was just a convenient way out for him. He wouldn’t admit it, but I’m betting he’s already found someone else who still has her uterus.”
    “Which, I take it, you don’t?” Sean concluded.
    Geneva nodded. “I got pregnant when I was seventeen. I was almost to term when I was in a car accident. Lost the baby and damn near bled to death from a ruptured uterus. That boyfriend didn’t stick with me, either.” Drawing in a shuddering breath, she wished she wasn’t working the bar tonight. A whole array of intoxicants stood in sparkling rows behind her, and she daren’t touch a drop. Thank God for tea…
    With her eyes fixed on the time-worn surface of the bar, she’d missed Brayden’s approach. “Sorry about the baby, Gen, but I’m glad you didn’t die, too. I’d take you over your uterus any day.”
    Brayden had a tendency to make odd comments, but this was a sentiment no one had ever expressed before, and it struck a chord with Geneva. She smiled up at him through the tears in her eyes. “Bless you for that, Brayden.”
    Grinning bashfully, Brayden ran