Author: Jaci Burton

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.

For herself. Just to see what kind of reaction she’d get. Just to prove to herself that maybe she wasn’t a total loser.

It had been a lot of years since Germany. For all these years she’d hidden her voice in her house, when all she really wanted to do was sing, to have people hear her. To be judged, just one more time. And if she got booed off the stage, then she’d know.

When the song was over, she and Ty went back to their table and Jenna ordered a shot.

Ty arched a brow. “Ready for some hard drinking?”

She steeled her nerves and directed her gaze at him. “I’m going to sing.”

“Really.” He leaned back in his chair. “What song did you choose?”

“I have no idea.” She grabbed the book and flipped through it, looking for songs she recognized enough she’d be comfortable standing in front of a crowd singing. She found a few she loved that were in her vocal range, then grabbed a card and penciled one in. Before she lost her nerve, she carried it up to the deejay and handed it over.

That’s when panic set in. She went back to her chair and flopped into it. Her heart pounded and her palms began to sweat as nausea swelled in the pit of her stomach.

“You going to live?”

She jerked her head up. “I’m not sure yet. Why?”

“You look pale. You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you look like you’re about to go live on national television.”

She leaned her head against her hand. “Shut up.”

“In case you throw up on the stage, I’ll run a bucket right up there.”

She glared at him. “You are so funny.”

She had to wait through three more singers, and then her name was called. The dread in her stomach turned into hot and cold flashes. Her feet felt numb as she pushed the chair back.

Ty stood and grasped her hand, forcing her attention on him. “Have some fun, Jenna. You really can sing.”

She nodded and walked up onstage, not realizing how many people were crammed into this club until she looked out over the sea of expectant faces. The deejay handed her the microphone, introduced her and the song she was about to sing, then stepped back, leaving her alone in the spotlight.

What if she failed tonight and people laughed, or even worse, booed her? Tyler said she was good, but she was having sex with him, so his vote didn’t count.

This was the real test, and as the music started up, she knew there was no changing her mind now. She lifted the microphone and started to sing, the song as familiar to her as her own name. She’d sung it hundreds of times before. It was a twenty-year-old song, but one of her favorites. A sweet pop song about love and romance and the man of her dreams.

Her legs were shaking. Hell, everything on her quivered, but her voice didn’t, thank God. She gave the song everything she had, pouring herself into the lyrics, singing to the crowd, forcing herself to look right at them. She found Ty out there, saw him smiling at her. She latched on to his face and stayed focused on his gaze, relaxing her body and sinking into the music, making it through to the last note.

When she heard the thunderous applause and cheers, she couldn’t quite believe it was real. She thought maybe she had dreamed this entire night. She was sure she’d wake up any minute in her bed.

She finally forced her feet to move as she backed away.

“You have a killer voice,” the deejay said as she returned the mic to him. “I hope that’s not the only song you’ll sing for us.”

She grinned and hugged him, then left the stage, soaking in congratulations on her way back to the table, where Ty scooped her up in his arms. She kissed him, pouring her relief and gratitude into the way her lips moved against his.

“Whoa,” he said when they pulled apart. “Who knew that singing turned you on so much?”

She finally relaxed enough to smile. “I’m just glad I got through it.”

“You were incredible. Did you hear the crowd? They were one hundred percent behind you.”

They sat and she took a long drink of water. “It was unbelievable. I would have never thought…You know, I loved it back in Europe. The crowds seemed to love me. But I always sung with bands. Never alone. I never knew it could be like this. And then when they cut me and told me I wasn’t good enough…”

“Well, now you know you are good enough. You’re amazing, just like I told you.”

Adrenaline kicked in, and she suddenly couldn’t sit still. She wriggled in her chair and she was ready to leap back onstage and wrestle the mic away from the guy who’d just gotten up to sing. “I might want to do it again.”

He leaned back in the chair. “I imagine you would. Who doesn’t love an audience? I know I do. It makes me skate faster.”

She laughed. “Is that why I’m shaking all over and I want to kick everyone else off the stage and take over for the rest of the night?”

One side of his mouth lifted in a knowing smirk. “Exactly.”

“It’s a powerful feeling.”

It was, and she hurriedly scribbled down the next song she wanted to do, and waited impatiently for her turn, barely hearing the singers and bands who got up before her. She couldn’t contain her excitement when her name was called. It was so much easier to get up there the second time, and she soaked in the applause when she stood on the stage. This time, she did an upbeat contemporary pop song, delighted when people got up to dance while she sang. She was so comfortable onstage. A live band to work with would be better—she was used to that—but she’d take what she could get. At the end, everyone applauded and whistled for her.

She couldn’t have been any giddier than if she were drunk, which she wasn’t. She went back to her seat and downed an entire glass of water.

“I’d say you’re a hit tonight.”

She grinned. “A lot of the acts tonight are hits.”

“I think you had the loudest applause.”

“You’re my date. You have to say that.”

He took a swallow of soda, then studied her. “No, I don’t.”

Okay, so he didn’t. He could have been polite and non-encouraging. He hadn’t pushed her, but he had told her she was a good singer.

“Thanks. I appreciate your belief in me.”

“Hey, I’m no music mogul, but I know a special voice when I hear it. So what are you going to do with it?”

She snorted. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Yeah. I mean, what else would I do?”

“I don’t know. Do something with your talent.”

“Like what? Go on one of those reality show singing contests? That’s not my thing.”

“Not what I meant. But there’s a lot you can do with a voice like yours. You could have a career as a singer.”

“I already have a career.”

“You have a job. It’s not the same thing.”

She shrugged. “I’m doing fine. I got up and sang in public for the first time in years. That was monumental. It was enough.”

“You’re settling, and it isn’t the same thing at all. Haven’t you ever thought about doing something you loved?”

She’d thought about it a lot. She’d had this dream since she was a child. A dream that had been shoved aside again and again. She refused to let herself wonder about things that were never going to happen.

Until tonight, when she’d finally released her crushed dreams from the locked box she’d held them prisoner in for so many years. Now that she had, her mind whirled with possibilities.

Time to lock up her dreams again, because it wasn’t going to happen.

“You could—”

“No, I couldn’t. I don’t want to talk about this. It’s getting late, I’m tired, and I want to go home.”

She stood and headed for the door, not knowing if Ty followed her or not.

When she walked outside, he was there at her side, grasping her hand despite her initial refusal to hold his as they crossed the street.

She was being petty, pouting despite the great night she’d had. Her mood had soured and she had no idea why. There was no reason to blame Ty. None of this was his fault.