4. Calli
4
CALLI
M uch to Calli's relief, when she woke up, there was nothing strange on her doorstep, which was good. If there was, she would be sleeping with the boys in their camper...and it smelled funny.
She and the band had just made it to the stage with a little extra time this morning.
"Excuse me?" a deep voice said behind her.
She turned and almost bumped right into a giant of a man with long blond hair, shaved on the sides and pulled up in a series of small braids. He had a beard, and his costume was impeccable. Calli didn't know why, but she was fighting the urge to throw her arms around him and rub herself all over him.
That was odd; she didn't ever recall that particular feeling before. Then, her eyes fell to his biceps and the tattoos that covered them, and she thought she might prefer him to rub her.
"Miss?" he said again.
Jesus, what was wrong with her?
She shook her head a bit and answered, "Yes... How can I help you?"
Then, her eyes finally landed on his. They were the bluest eyes she had ever seen, and she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away.
"Hello, I’m Dru," he said with almost a bow.
"I'm Calli," she said with a small smile.
"Bridget sent me. She said you might be able to help me charge my phone?" he said.
"Oh, of course. Come with me. I'm surprised you have this out in the open. Most fairs are really strict with having phones out. It breaks the illusion and all that. We get away with more because we have amps and other stuff."
She took his phone from him and plugged it into a cord attached to a power strip by their merch table.
"Should be good as new soon," she said with a smile. She could feel herself flirting with him, and she wasn't entirely sure why... Well, she knew why... Look at him.
"Would you like to take a walk down the lane?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah... Sure. We got here a little early today."
He gestured for her to go before him and followed her down the aisle of benches. Once they got to the entrance of the stage, he held out his elbow for her to take. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiled softly down at her.
She was about to explode. Where the hell did this guy come from?
Then, as she took his arm and her hand rested on the bare skin of his forearm, she felt the ground move—like literally felt the ground move, her entire body feeling like it was glowing. What on earth was happening?
Her hand was resting on his arm, and it tensed beneath hers. Her eyes slowly took him in, from his strong arms covered in tattoos to his broad chest covered by a vest and necklaces, the perfect barbarian costume for a ren faire. Then, her eyes met his, and they almost took her breath away. It would seem he was just as affected by her as she was by him, if the expression on his face was any hint. His pupils were blown, his lips parted, and he looked like he wanted to bite her. Honestly, she just might let him.
The moment that danced between them was electric. She had never experienced anything like this before.
"Dru you said, right?"
He just nodded.
"Right... How long have you been working the fair circuit?" she asked as they walked away from her stage.
"I'm afraid I don't follow?" he said, looking down at her.
"Ren Fairs? How long have you been working the circuit? Or are you local?"
"No, I'm not local. I'm a friend of Bridget's."
Calli wasn't sure why, but that tracked. He had the same vibe Bridget gave off. While the two were physical opposites in almost every way, from size—Bridget being short and round and Dru being giant and muscly—to their demeanor. Where Bridget was playful and mysterious, Dru seemed more serious. There was something about both of them that didn't seem to belong to this world.
"Oh, really? I love Bridget. I’ve traveled the circuit for a long time. I started with a different band, and I’ve been with the Flying Kilts for a couple years now. But it looks like I’ll probably be looking for a new band soon."
"Why is that?" he asked.
"As much as I like this life, it isn't always easy, and it isn't for everyone. Eventually, people want to leave and settle down. Our fiddle player's wife is going to have a baby, and our guitarist is getting married."
"Do you not want those things? To settle down and have a baby?"
Her eyes flew to his; that was an awfully personal question for meeting all of ten minutes ago. His eyes seemed to sparkle with kindness and genuine curiosity, so she answered. "I don't know. I'm not opposed, but I've never felt the urge to settle down. Sometimes, I get the feeling I was never intended for this world."
Her mouth snapped shut, and her eyes once again flew up to his. She wasn't sure why she had said all of that. Whenever she started talking about how she never felt like she belonged, it usually pulled side-eyed glances from people. She’d been called a free spirit to just plain crazy more than once in her life. She wished it was easier, that she could just fit in, but she learned a long time ago that she never would and to try was an exercise in futility. Not only that, but it was also oftentimes painful. But when she looked into his eyes, she didn't find judgment.
That shouldn’t squeeze her heart as much as it did. He was a stranger, for all intents and purposes, but there was something impossibly familiar about him.
"I'm sorry. I know that sounds strange," she said, trying to brush it off.
"No. Not at all."
That was all he said, but his eyes said so much more. "Enough about me. What about you? Are you from here? How do you know Bridget?"
"I'm not from the area. As for Bridget..."
"Calli," a voice called from behind them. She turned to see Michael jogging over to her. "The pub is down again. They told me to ask if you wanted to work a shift again today?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. I'll check in with them after our first show."
"Awesome, I'll let them know. We’re on in ten," he said.
"Right. I’ll be back when it's time to go on."
"Sounds good." Michael turned and headed back to their stage.
"That man is in the band?"
"Yeah, he's the one about to have a baby."
"Do you have any family?" he asked in his serious tone that made her smile for no reason at all.
"I do. I have three sisters."
"Are they here with you?"
She just shook her head. "No, they still live on the island where I grew up. I left when I was old enough. It was suffocating."
"And what of your parents?" he asked, cautiously.
"Well, I never knew my father. He left after my youngest sister was born. My mother died later that year, so we were raised by my grandmother. She was amazing, though, so we really didn't want for anything."
"I'm glad you had her," he said in his low, soothing voice.
"Me too. What about you? Do you have any family?"
He nodded. "I have a brother and a sister. Both of my parents have passed as well."
"Are you close with your siblings?"
"Yes. He is five years younger than me but a trusted confidant. My sister is seven years younger than me and a fierce warrior."
Warrior… She loved a badass woman as much as the next girl, but warrior seemed like an odd word choice.
"Where are you from?"
"Far from here."
Her eyes once again took him in. How was it possible this stranger felt so familiar and safe but also so mysterious at the same time? All she knew was she wanted to know more.
"I thought I might find the two of ye together," a familiar Scottish brogue called to them.
"Bridget," Dru said with a slight bow and a polite smile on his face.
"Hey, Bridget," Calli cheerfully greeted.
At Bridget’s appearance, she realized she and Dru had been talking for a while, and it was probably time for her show.
“I hate to do this, but I have to run. I think it’s about time for my first set.”
“Of course, lass. Have a good show.”
Calli made it back to the stage in time for their first performance. Her mouth tipped into a smile as she saw a now familiar handsome blond man standing in the back for all her performances that day. She wanted to go talk to him more—and do more than talking, if she was being honest—but between their full day of shows and picking up shifts at the pub, she didn’t have much free time. Still, it was a pleasant distraction from thinking about her next steps.