Page 61 of Unexpected Hero

My forehead crinkles. “That’s a good thing. Isn’t it? Being a good liar is dangerous. Why the laugh?”

“Agree. But the laugh was because ‘Bad Liar’ is one of my favorite songs.”

My mind races, trying to place the song. I come up with nothing. “Who’s the singer?”

“Imagine Dragons. Do you like them?”

“I’m not sure I can place them or that song. Can you sing it for me?”

I’m such a shit. A pathetic shit who’s desperate to hear her sing in person. I’ve been wondering how I could bring it up without her knowing I’ve heard her heavenly voice, and once again, she gave me the perfect opening.

She clears her throat, surprising me. I was expecting an objection to my request. When she opens her mouth and her silky tone fills the car, something tightens in my chest. It pinches uncomfortably, and my stomach flip-flops.

A few lines into the chorus, she pauses and looks at me expectantly. “Well?”

“Lettie, that was...” Not sure there are words to describe how that made me feel, so my sentence dies on my tongue.

After a heavy pause, she meekly asks, “Do you know the song?”

“Yes. I recognize it now.”

It’s my new favorite song.

When I pull off Gulf Way into the beach parking lot, her body language changes. By the time I find a spot and shift into park, she’s nibbling on her lip and wringing her hands, seeming uncomfortable.

That old familiar feeling hits me. The one where I know I fucked up, but I don’t know how.

This is why I don’t put myself in situations like this. I always say or do the wrong thing. And people I care about get hurt when they assume I meant something that I didn’t intend.

“Lettie, are you okay? Did I do something to upset you?”

She shakes her head, her eyes and lips pinching to slits. “Nope. I’m fine.”

She’s right. She is a bad liar.

“Listen, sometimes my thoughts or actions come off incorrectly. It’s not intentional. I don’t know what I did this time, but clearly, I upset you. When I do something like this, can you tell me what I did so I don’t do it again? Don’t lie to spare my feelings.”

I barely have any at this point.

Her shoulders rise and fall in a tense shrug. My gaze lingers on the exposed skin on her shoulder. Unable to stop, I trail my fingers over the spot that’s captured my attention, gently caressing her soft, smooth skin.

I detect a bob in her throat when she turns and meets my eyes. Her face softens, her expression growing warmer again. My grip on her shoulder grows more insistent until my entire palm rests on her warm skin.

I’m greedy to feel more of her.

“I’m feeling awkward and embarrassed because I decided to turn this into a Lettie Holt concert that you didn’t ask for and obviously didn’t want. And then you looked like you hated my voice, which has me feeling all kinds of ways. For some reason, I wanted you to be... I don’t know… impressed or something. It’s stupid.” She hides her eyes behind one hand, but I pull it away so I can try to understand her better. “I’m fucking this up already. My nerves are shot from just a car ride with you.”

“I love your singing voice,” I toss, hoping to ease her worries.

Her expression turns skeptical, brows drawn tight. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better. I know the country twang is hard to contain when I sing. But you know the song, and that was the whole point. Let’s just slip this whole interaction into the pretend it never happened file and move on.”

I don’t know what to say, but I know I should say something. I don’t like seeing her upset. And to be honest, I have no fucking idea what I did to make her think I was anything other than enraptured by her voice.

Just like I am by her entire presence. Lettie Holt has captured every ounce of my focus since she rolled into Florida.

Perhaps even before that.

She reaches for the door handle. “Let’s find a spot to have our picnic before the sun goes down.”

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