Page 98 of Delicious Surrender
He grinned, showing off his dimples. “I’d love to. I can’t sing worth a damn, but it sounds like fun.”
“Okay great, cool.” Her cheeks turned pink.
“I can pick you up around seven p.m. on Thursday. Does that work?”
“Sounds good. Okay, I’m off. Coffee is made if you want some.”
“Thanks. See you later.”
She waved awkwardly and left.
As she drove past Gage’s fortress, she threw up her middle finger in salute and hoped he was watching.
The public library was decent. She found a quiet corner on the second floor to set up. She did an online application for internet services and then tried to settle into editing. Each time she reviewed a sex scene and tried to turn up the heat between her characters, it was Gage’s face she saw. Finally, she ran with it and allowed her thoughts free rein. It worked. She wrote a 1,200-word scene before breaking to grab lunch. It was a frustrating process; her second draft needed more erotic content, and she had minimal firsthand experiences to draw from.
If she was honest, forgetting Gage wasn’t her only reason for dating Logan. If things worked out, she could show the hot handyman what she wanted in bed. Meeting the “boyfriend” conditions of the will would be a bonus.
Thursday came quickly and Brynne tried on three different outfits before finally settling on a pair of jeans, a simple white button-down blouse, and her navy blazer. She found a cute pair of blue suede ankle boots in her aunt’s closet. The best thing to happen this week was the discovery of Josie’s designer shoe collection. And learning they both wore a size seven.
Logan looked very handsome when he came to fetch her. He wore a pair of dark jeans, a pale blue chambray shirt pairedwith a worn leather jacket and sexy cowboy boots. He told her how pretty she looked when he helped her step up into his truck.
On the drive to town, Brynne broke the awkward silence by asking him about his work. Logan was happy to have something to talk about and started regaling her about the last nine months spent working at Gage’s house. Brynne ooh’d and ahh’d at the right times while he told her about the imported slate in the bathrooms, the two-story stone fireplace, and the amazing gym in the third-floor loft with its own luxurious spa bathroom on one end and a massage room on the other. Brynne was relieved when they arrived at the restaurant, even though she’d been devouring every damned detail about the house.
Over dinner, Logan finally asked her about her own career and seemed surprised she wasn’t a full-time waitress. She told him about her journalism degree and the book project. When he asked what kind of book, she called it a mystery romance. She was happy he didn’t ask more questions, saving her from making something up. The karaoke started, and they ordered another round. She admitted needing liquid courage to get up to sing.
It started to get loud, making conversation difficult. Brynne went and grabbed a copy of the song book. The guy working the machine was the same one who ran karaoke night at Declan’s bar, so she knew he had a broad selection.
“You sure you don’t want to sing?” Brynne asked Logan as she considered her choices.
“Hell no. My voice would empty this place. I’m looking forward to hearing you. What are you going to sing?”
“I’m thinking of a song by Jefferson Airplane.”
“Nice—I like classic rock.”
“They were one of my aunt’s favorite artists. She introduced me to them, the Moody Blues, and the Stones.”
“So which song, ‘Somebody to Love’?”
“Either that one or ‘White Rabbit.’”
“Oh, that’s a killer tune. Do that one.”
Brynne gulped down more of her cocktail and put her name on the list. There were two other names before hers—a cute couple did an old country and western duet and then a group of friends sang Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing.” She was up next.
“Wish me luck!”
The drinks helped her nerves, but as she neared the stage, she wondered if this night was a bad idea. If it didn’t work out, he wouldn’t finish the repair work. First dates were always awkward. She needed to calm down and get through the song. It had been ages since she did this—and never without Jared. She walked up to the microphone and was glad the lights were so bright that she couldn’t see Logan or anyone beyond the dance floor.
The song began with its distinctive bolero-styled bass notes, and when the crowd heard the military beat of the drums, they cheered. Brynne started tentatively, but then got absorbed in the song and belted out the last verse—with the audience singing along.
“Feed your head! Feed your head!”
The clapping and whistling reassured her, and she received some high fives as she made her way around the tables to theirbooth. Brynne felt elated that her voice hadn’t cracked when she stretched to reach the highest notes.
When she got back, Logan was nowhere to be seen. What the hell? Did he miss her performance? She noticed he had left her purse unattended, and that pissed her off. A quick check confirmed her phone and wallet were still there.
She turned to search the crowd for him and was startled by a six-foot-two mass of testosterone staring down at her, a dangerous glint in his eyes.