to be with her.
“Are you dating anyone, Mai with an I?”
She nearly choked on her iced coffee. Was he reading her mind?
“No. Not at the moment. I didn’t factor in the size of the dating pool when I decided to move here.”
“Seems like a cute town, though.”
“It is.” She drained the rest of the iced coffee and carried the glass to the sink behind the counter. She needed to get away from the cloud of pheromones that was Ian Youngblood before she climbed onto his lap, pushed him back against the sofa, and …
Can you tell it’s been a while since I had a date?
Alas, the cloud of pheromones was well-mannered and carried his glass and empty plate to the sink as well.
Would it be rude to go check on his clothes in the dryer?
“Thanks,” she said instead. His arm bumped her shoulder as he stepped up to the sink. She quickly spun away and pretended to tidy up stacks of paper coffee cups, line up the giant decorative jars of coffee beans, straighten the display of artisan caramels. All of which was utterly ridiculous since there was barely enough light left to see.
“So,” she said. “How many questions do we have left?”
“A few.” He closed the distance between them. “So, Mai with an I, what happened in London that you ended up singing by yourself in a karaoke bar on the day after Christmas?”
She froze. Her breath caught. Her heart skittered.
He remembered.
She wracked her brain for a witty deflection. The best she could come up with was, “I believe it was called a karaoke lounge.”
Lame.
“And in any case, there’s no way you remember that.”
He hummed the opening bars to the song she had sung two years ago.
All evidence to the contrary.
“Obviously, I do.” He enjoyed the way her cheeks colored a deeper shade of pink. So she did know who he was.
“Out of all the women you meet, why would you remember me?”
“Do you know how many women get half naked with me and then change their minds?”
“Not many, I’d guess.”
“Zero, to be exact.”
“I’m sure it was character building.”
“A lot of things have been character building lately. You walking out on me isn’t one of them. I went back to the karaoke bar the next night.”
“Karaoke lounge. Why did you do that?”
“I wanted to hear you sing again.”
“Even after I walked out on you?”
“So you admit it was you.”
She shrugged.
“You never answered my question.”
“I like to sing?”
“I’m a little surprised to find you running a coffee shop and not headlining tours.”
She snorted. In a charmingly adorable sort of way. “Good voices are a dime a dozen.”
“Good ones. Not great ones. Not marvelous ones.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Yes, you do have a marvelous voice. Please don’t tell me you only sing in the shower.”
“I never sing in the shower. But I do sing for events around town. I’m the go-to person whenever the national anthem is needed.”
“I bet you sing the hell out of that.”
“I do, as a matter of fact.”
He was happy to see her face light up with a wide, proud grin. Happier than he ought to be.
“I also do some local theater in Annapolis when there’s a musical involved. And not too much dancing.”
“I have a hard time believing you’re a terrible dancer.”
“I have three left feet.”
He wondered how much battery life was left on his phone. He could put on some music and test her left feet theory. The desire to have her in his arms was now an aching need. Just like it had been in London. He had never understood what “bereft” meant until that night. Her departure had left him well and truly bereft. Now here they were, stuck together in a storm, and he intended to make the most of the situation.
“So what happened in London?” he asked again. “You seem way too wholesome to go to a rock star’s hotel room.”
She sighed. “Good grief. You’re not letting that go, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine. I was in London with my boyfriend—from whom I was expecting a marriage proposal. Instead, he dumped me.”
He frowned. “Just like that? In the middle of the trip?”
Another sigh. “Yes, just like that. I found myself on my own for the rest of the week. That’s how I ended up in a karaoke lounge, throwing a pity party for myself.”
“Weird choice of song for a pity party.” She had sung a rather famous song by a rather famous British band, and thus a song he doubted the karaoke lounge had permission