Page 46 of The Last Love Song
Her eyes narrowed and she shoved a fried corn nugget in his mouth. “This is all you’re getting from me tonight.”
He shrugged, chewing through the crispy batter to the cheesy corn center, then answered, “It’s the first one that came to mind. But this will do for now.”
He picked up another and brought it to her lips, but slower, feeding it to her with a precision and, hell yes, seduction that couldn’t be missed. Her pupils dilated in response, but she didn’t tell him no. Her blue eyes filled with confusion and a hint of arousal before she plastered on an overbright smile. But that was okay for now. He knew what he’d seen. She was far from indifferent to the attraction they shared.
A young guy took the planked stage to sing a country-rock tune from the seventies, and a group of his friends howled their approval, lifting longneck bottles in salute. A few girls shimmied up to dance on the hardwood floor near the stage.
“Anyway, there are some clichés I’ve never experienced,” Heather continued, keeping time to the music with a subtle tap of her finger against the table. “Like loading up the car as a teenager and driving to a faraway college. Or hunting for my first apartment with a friend.” She stopped drumming her fingers. Her gaze fell away and she toyed with a corn popper. “Falling in love.”
She tacked the last one on like an afterthought and pushed away the appetizer basket.
“You’ve never been in love?” He hadn’t expected that. She had been a year behind him in school, which made her twenty-eight.
“I thought I was a couple of times, but I knew later…” She shook her head. “It hadn’t really been love. I’d just felt a combination of affection andwantingto be in love.”
Her words rolled around inside his head, and he tried to understand what they meant. Her admission had been unexpected, for sure. But he was more surprised she’d shared something so personal with him. He hoped like hell it meantshe was thinking about forgiving him and getting back to where they’d been before the investigation news broke.
“I know how it sounds,” she said quickly, her hands fidgety as she tore off a paper towel from the roll by the row of different barbecue sauces.
“How does it sound?” He wanted her. Badly. It was the only damn thought in his head at the moment, but it didn’t seem like the time to share it.
“Like I’m a loser. Or hard-hearted and unfeeling.”
Those were untrue statements. Unfeeling? Hell, the kiss she’d given him torched that theory. He remembered exactly what she’d looked like before their lips had touched. The flare of awareness in her eyes. Merely thinking about it made him ease back in his chair to give himself a little space.
“I think it makes you sound like a woman of taste and discretion.”
“Picky, you mean?” Her gaze followed an elderly couple holding hands as they walked past with the hostess.
“I don’t believe in compromising my standards, either.” He flagged down a waitress, needing another drink to cool him off. They were only throwing back colas tonight, but his mouth had gone dry right about the time he’d watched Heather whistle.
“I guess I truly am picky.” She clinked her glass to his. “Sounds like you suffer from the same affliction.”
“Caution is a good thing.” He was trying to be cautious tonight, for example. He hadn’t leaned over the table to kiss her. Hadn’t slid around to sit beside her so he could stroke her hair or slide an arm around her waist and feel the warmth of her skin through the baseball jersey she wore.
“I’m so tired of being cautious. And practical. And organized. And picky abouteverythingin my life.” She set her drink down hard, the fierceness in her voice surprising him. “I keep thinking if I can get out on my own, away from the family, I’ll takemore risks. Live my dreams like my former student Sylvia. She just packed up her guitar one day and went to Nashville. She’s playing with three different bands and doing everything she can to take her career to the next level. I want to do that. Or at least be the musician I was meant to be.”
“You will be.” He clapped as the kid onstage finished his song, drawing out the last note while his friends lifted their cell phones overhead to signal an encore.
“What if I’m not? What if my family is just an excuse for the fact I haven’t risked my heart in love or life?”
“That won’t happen.” He paused as the waitress arrived with refills. He took a sip of his drink before he continued. “Don’tletit happen. Take the risks. Starting now.”
“What do you mean?” She arched an eyebrow at him, all wariness again as she twisted the paper towel around her fingers.
Did she think he meant with him? A romantic risk?
“Go sing.” He jerked a thumb at the stage. “You’re a performer. Let’s see you perform.”
Her shoulders relaxed, her blue gaze turning to the small stage with an unmistakable longing.
“You wouldn’t think it was rude of me to leave you sitting all alone?” She bit her lip, although he’d hazard a guess she wasn’t all that concerned about leaving his side.
“Why do you think I brought you to a karaoke bar? To listen to a bunch of hacks belt out tunes after they’ve had too many drinks?”
She grinned, her eyes back on him, where he liked them. Hell yes he did. Especially when she smiled like that, and he was the one who made it happen.
“If you wanted a personal performance, you could have just told me so.”
