Page 99 of Pucking Sweet

Tears of frustration sting my eyes. “Well, maybe next time you won’t sit pining after a girl for two freaking years. Maybe next time you’ll make your move. You’ll take your shot. Otherwise, you’ll sit back and realize someone else already has!”

Storming away from him, I weave my way toward the bar, desperate for a refill on this dang mojito. I slide the glass across the bar and wait. My attention is pulled to the laptop propped on the edge of the bar, taking requests for the karaoke queue. I skim the list, my eye stopping on the name in all caps: LUKAS NOVIKOV.

“Son of a freaking bitch,” I huff under my breath.

The jerk is up next to sing “I’ll Never Break Your Heart” by the Backstreet Boys.

Feeling reckless, I type in my name too.

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Istay at the bar, clutching my second mojito. A wooden column at the end of the bar hides me from the microphone as Lukas’s name is called. The Rays section cheers as he jumps up on stage, waving to the crowd. He grabs the mic, slipping it from the stand. “This song is dedicated to someone very special in the crowd tonight.”

I sit forward on my stool. Oh, he better freaking not—

“Henrik Karlsson, where are you, bud?” He shields his eyes from the lights as “I’ll Never Break Your Heart” starts to play.

The Rays all laugh and clap as two guys point out the handsome Swede, quietly nursing a beer.

“Hen, I’m sorry you took an elbow to the face at practice and lost a tooth,” Lukas says to more laughter. “I may break your teeth on occasion, but you know I’ll never break your heart.”

The crowd cheers as Henrik gets to his feet and salutes Lukas with his beer. Then Lukas starts to sing. I swallow a gulp of my mojito, peering around the wooden pillar.

“Oh, goddamn it.” Slapping my drink down, I shove it away.

The man has the voice of a freaking angel.

“Alright, that was awesome,”the emcee says as Lukas finishes his song. “Let’s hear it for Lukas Novikov!”

Lukas waves to the cheering crowd as he replaces the mic on the stand. While he was singing, I wove my way around the back of the open-air bar, trying to stay hidden in the sea of people. The last thingI’m going to do is give him an excuse to tease me more by singing while looking longingly into my eyes. I make it to the edge of the stage just as the emcee says, “Next up, we have Poppy St. James, ready to wow us with a little Dolly Parton.”

Lukas makes his way over to me. A sheen of sweat glistens on his brow. The yellow of the stage lights make his eyes shine almost golden. “I warmed them up for you,” he says with a grin.

“Thanks.”

As he passes, he leans in. “I sang that for you.”

My shoulders stiffen. He tosses me a wink as he walks away.

Goddamnthat man!

“Let’s go, Poppy,” one of the wives cheers from the crowd.

“Get it, girl!”

Taking a deep breath, I put on my best smile and wave, entering the bright circle of the stage lights. They switch to purple and pink, and the crowd cheers again as I step up to the mic. I reach for the dial, twisting it lower as the song starts. “Sorry, y’all. Some of us are a little vertically challenged.”

The crowd laughs.

Looking out, I note all the faces of people I know. Friends, colleagues. I smile, relaxing a little. Despite all the crazy,thisis my life now. This is where I want to belong. Not in a stuffy tearoom on a New York City boulevard or in the halls of Congress chasing down some harried senator. I want to belong here, on a karaoke stage in a rowdy beach bar in Jacksonville, Florida, surrounded by all my friends.

I focus my attention on Shelby O’Sullivan’s bright, encouraging smile. Leaning in, I sing the first verse of “Jolene.”

“Hey, Poppy, that was amazing!”Rachel brushes her hand down my arm as I pass her table.

“Thanks, girl,” I return with a smile.

The great thing about “Jolene” is that it’s a short song that most people know. It takes the pressure off me having to be any good if I can just hype up the crowd to sing it with me. And this crowd ate itall the way up. My good mood is locked firmly back in place as I exchange more smiles, weaving my way inside the main dining room. Once inside, I make a beeline for the restroom.

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