Page 3 of The Red-Hot Stakes

I nodded. His teeth are so straight. “Like Johnny Cash?”

“Perfect.” He held my gaze, locking me in as if he had me in some strange spell. “Which song?”

Have his lips always been that full? I quickly gave myself a mental shake, trying to remember what we’d been talking about. Oh, right, Johnny Cash. “Ring of Fire?” It was one of my favorites.

His voice dropped, low and husky. “Do you like that one?” When I nodded, he smacked the bar, startling me fully out of my trance. “Thanks, Gina.” He winked, jumped off his barstool and strode toward the karaoke station.

I watched him walk away, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Sarah whisked by, and I grabbed her arm, yanking her hand to my forehead. “Do I feel warm to you?”

“What? G, what’s your problem?” She snatched her arm back and went to wash her hands.

No fever…maybe I have food poisoning? Maybe the chili’s bad? The first strands of Ring of Fire started up, and Liam grabbed the microphone. He saluted me, then glanced back at the booth, at the girl we’d picked the song out for. I relaxed. I had just been helping him out.

Then he started singing.

I hated this part. His voice was like cashmere, and I wanted to wrap myself in it for the rest of the night. The first time it had happened several months ago, I hadn’t realized it was him singing. I’d always been a sucker for a guy with a voice. When I’d turned to see him on stage, I hadn’t known whether to cringe or stare longer.

Liam was actually kind of hot when he sang. He had a good four inches on my five-foot-seven frame, and he was muscular, fit. Somehow, the stage lights made him drool-worthy. I loved hearing his deep voice belting out, seeing his corded forearms tense as he gripped the mic and those tight jeans clinging to his hips…

“Earth to Gina!” Sarah snapped her fingers in front of my face.

“Holy crap, what?”

She just laughed. “Table seven wants you. And where’s my five bucks?”

I reached into my pocket and threw a five-dollar bill at her. “Here.” Then I stomped off to see what table seven needed as Liam finished his song.

They wanted a full round, and Liam’s table flagged me down after I’d delivered it. Just as Liam slid in. The brunette plastered herself to Liam as soon as his ass hit the booth. Not that I was staring at his ass.

“That was amazing,” she crooned, pressing her boobs against him.

I cleared my throat. “Did you guys need something?”

One guy had his arm around a skinny blonde who leaned heavily on him. “Another round, right?”

“Kitchen’s closing in ten. Any last food orders before we shut her down?”

When I glanced at Liam, he was staring at me and quickly ducked his head, his cheeks flushing. “Nah, just the drinks.”

Then the floodgates opened. Sarah and I had trouble keeping up after that, running drinks, tending bar, cleaning tables. It was a lot. All to the wonderful music of amateur karaoke. At least Liam had sung early on—I didn’t have time to lose focus again.

Things were finally calming when Liam came over to where I was wiping down the bar. “I need your help. One more song, and I get her number.”

I sighed, too tired to even protest, let alone think of a song. “Just see what other Johnny Cash we have.” I went back to washing glasses. So many. I even dreamed about cleaning them sometimes.

“No, you have to help me.”

Sarah came by with yet another load of glasses and sang, “He’s ba-ack.”

“Relax. I’m helping out a friend.” I rolled my eyes as she breezed back by with a full pitcher of beer.

Liam gaped at me. “Did you just call me your friend?”

Shit. “No.”

“Yeah, you did.”

My teeth ground together. “You must have misheard me.”

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