“Is it? The band did karaoke?”
“I don’t know.” She picked up the book and flipped through it. “No, it’s open mic night tonight. You can bring in your band or sing your own music or they have recorded songs you can sing to.”
“Huh. That’s pretty cool.”
She slanted a glance his way. “You didn’t know about this?”
“How the hell would I know about it? I’ve never been here before. Like I said, some of the women mentioned coming here and said it was awesome, so I thought we’d give it a try. You know, since it’s not a sports bar and all.”
She gave him a look like she didn’t believe him, but turned her attention back to Marie and let the subject drop.
So far, so good.
He was going to get Jenna on that stage tonight.
And he wouldn’t have to do or say anything to get her up there.
JENNA WATCHED A PARADE OF TALENT CLIMB ONSTAGE for a couple hours, admittedly transfixed and awed and appalled.
For some reason, people weren’t shy about showcasing what they had—good or bad. And some people who were really awful—or really drunk—thought they sounded great, which the crowd didn’t seem to care about. They were polite, sometimes teased or booed depending on who was up there, and often clapped loudly, which was to be expected considering several of the people who’d been up there were damned talented.
This still smelled like a setup, but Ty hadn’t encouraged her or asked her if she wanted to go up and sing. So maybe he was being honest and hadn’t known this was the kind of place where local talent could show what they were made of. All he did was sit back, drink, and make comments to her about who he thought was great and who he thought stunk.
She agreed one hundred percent with his assessments, too.
Still, she was nervous, certain at any moment he would suggest she put in a bid to sing tonight. Which she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Hadn’t since that awful experience in Germany when she’d been told she wasn’t good enough.
She’d never go through that again.
Two hours in, he still hadn’t said a damn word.
Still, she was better than half of the people who’d drunkenly sauntered up there to slur the latest Katy Perry or Miranda Lambert or Adele song.
Dammit.
I could light a fire under these people’s asses and bring them to their feet.
“I’m sure you could, if that’s what you wanted to do.”
“What?”
“Light a fire under their asses and bring them to their feet.”
Oh, God, had she actually said that out loud?
She waited for Ty to say more, to push or encourage her or somehow bully her onto the stage.
He didn’t. Instead, he flagged the waitress down to order another drink.
This was her choice. If she wanted to get up there and sing, it would be her decision and no one else’s. Ty obviously wasn’t going to prompt or cajole her into doing it.
She chewed on her bottom lip while a band started to play and a bunch of the patrons got up on the dance floor.
“Wanna dance?” he asked.
“Sure.” Anything to avoid sitting and stewing.
The band was good, played light rock music, with a female lead singer who had a grungy, hippie look about her. She liked this singer’s voice, and when she slowed down the melody, Ty pulled Jenna close and put his arms around her. She soon forgot all about the music and tuned in to the way his body felt against hers. His thigh slid between her legs as they moved in rhythm around the crowded dance floor.
She laid her head against his chest and inhaled the crisp maleness of his scent, let her fingers travel over the hard ridges of his shoulders. She’d been so wrapped around her own insecurities she hadn’t allowed herself the pleasure of this amazing man’s company. It was only now she saw the jealous stares of other women nearby, realized how very lucky she was to be in Ty’s arms. There were about ten women staring her down who’d love to trade places with her.
What an idiot she was.
It wasn’t always about her.
“What do you think?” he asked.
She tilted her head back to look at him. “About what?”
“This band?”
“Oh. They’re really good.”
“Yeah, they are. I like the singer. I’d like to hear her without all the guitar noise, though. She’s good on this song.”
“Yeah, she is.” He was right about the singer’s voice. The band overpowered her. She had a crystal-clear voice, but too much bass and guitar muddied it. “She’d be better as a solo act.”
“I think you’re right. Some voices are better without a band behind them.”
The band got a good response, but not as great as that singer would have gotten had she showcased her awesome voice as a solo act.
And that’s when Jenna knew she just had to get up there and sing. Not that it would mean anything to anyone but herself, but she had to do it.