Page 28 of Someone to Tempt
“Johnny Cash, for sure. His energy fits you,” Avah says.
Jake wiggles his thick brows. “Unless Iris agrees to a duet, in which case I’ll let her pick the song. I’m all about keeping the ladies happy.”
“I bet you are,” Avah purrs.
“You don’t make me happy,” I snap. “And I’m not having fun!”
I didn’t mean to shout that last, but I did, and because of my recent luck, a hush falls over the crowd at the precise moment my words ring out.
“Did you hear that, everybody?” Jake calls out when the other patrons turn to stare at our table. “The mayor just said she wants to have fun. What’s more fun than getting the ball rolling with karaoke?”
“I’m going to kill you,” I say under my breath.
“Oh, no, you’re not.” Avah shakes her head. “He’s saving your bacon right now, girl.”
She’s right, even though I’m loath to admit it. I swallow a groan and follow Jake out of the booth and toward the small stage set up at the far end of the bar’s main room.
“Pick your poison.” His arm grazes mine, and all I can think about is the heat of his touch and how he smells like spice and clean laundry.
I swear to all that is holy I didn’t purposely stumble during our routine this morning just so I could push my face into his shirt and take a big whiff of all that delectable manliness.
Then I realize the eyes of almost everyone in the bar are following us, and I pull away.
“I don’t know if I can—” I start, honestly nervous.
He looks at me and inclines his head. “I thought you always had a plan.”
“Not tonight.” I’m talking about more than whatever song we’re going to sing. We both know it. But Jake’s poker face is as good as mine, and he swings his arm wide to the crowd.
“We’ll let your friends and neighbors decide. Hey y’all, what do you want to hear tonight?”
Several people shout out song titles, but one voice rings louder than the rest.
“Islands in the Stream!”
I freeze, then turn to the booth where my friends are sitting. Sloane has joined them, and she gives me two enthusiastic thumbs up. Sloane is a huge Dolly Parton fan.
“She’s got to be kidding,” I mutter, but the crowd has already taken up the bandwagon with cheers and applause. Jake nods to the floppy-haired dude working the karaoke machine.
“Good choice,” he hollers to Sloane. “You can’t go wrong with Dolly.”
I can think of a thousand things that could go wrong right now, and they have nothing to do with Dolly.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper. “I drank too much. I didn’t drink enough.”
“Hey.” Jake squeezes my hand. “We’re having fun, Dixon.”
“If you tell me to loosen up, I’m going to kick your balls into your throat.”
“You stay as tight as you want, but here we go.” He hands me a microphone off the stand in front of us. The first notes begin, and my friends shout their encouragement.
I’d like to run away, because standing in front of a crowd of people who I’m pretty sure expect me to make a complete ass of myself is not anyone’s idea of fun.
“We’ve got this,” Jake says, and I remember the way he spoke those words to me that summer we spent together before everything went to shit.
We were about to jump off the cliff out at the local reservoir, and thanks to my fear of heights, that didn’t seem any more fun than this. But with Jake holding my hand, I jumped anyway, and the free fall before we hit the water was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life.
Maybe karaoke can’t be compared to that, but as the words to the first verse appear on the screen with a little ball guiding me, I lift the microphone to my lips and start to sing.
