Jolene looked beautiful and he couldn’t stop touching her. He put his hand on her leg, he scooted his chair closer to hers, he squeezed her hand. She smiled at him every time he touched her and it made him eager to get her somewhere private and see how high he could turn up that smile.
He joined in with the applause when the set ended. He sipped his beer and accepted what he knew was coming. You couldn’t step into the Blue Bird and not expect to have your name called out if you were even remotely famous. It didn’t take long.
“So, I see we have some serious talent here tonight,” the emcee said, tipping his head in their direction. “Hart-Rivers in the house, y’all. Give them a warm welcome.”
Chance gave him a wave and turned and did the same to the room. Jolene blew a kiss to the emcee.
“Now, I don’t usually ask this.” The guy was in his forties, wearing sunglasses, and a black vest with designer jeans. Chance didn’t recognize him but he was clearly very comfortable on the stage, and his words didn’t sound particularly apologetic. He had the crowd and he knew it. “But my mother always said it never hurts to ask, so what would y’all think about coming on up here and singing us a song?”
There it was. Chance looked at Jolene. She was already shaking her head no. But Chance knew she was saying it because of him. Maybe it was time for him to bend a little. He was the one who had brought her here in public. So he couldn’t shy away from the spotlight. “I’m in,” he told her. “You feel like singing a song with me, JoJo?”
“Really?” Her eyes were wide. When she realized he was serious, she grinned. “I’d love to.”
“Cool.” He was ridiculously pleased that he could make her that.
He stood up and held his hand out to her. She took it, and he impulsively reached over and gave her a kiss. Her eyebrows shot up as she pulled back and looked at him.
“Really?” she repeated more softly, though he assumed this time she was referencing the kiss.
“Really.”
Everyone in the room was clapping and whistling already and they hadn’t even done anything. This was going to be fun.
“What should we sing?” he asked.
“Whatever you want.”
“Whiskey Kiss?” It was one of their hottest songs, both on the charts and in the lyrics. They’d written it one night naked in bed, and he had alternated picking his guitar and stroking on her. The memory made him wish they were alone and repeating every minute of that night.
“Oh, you are feeling feisty tonight, Chance Rivers,” she said. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
He leaned over and whispered, “You’re going to have a whole lot in you in another hour or two. Can you handle it?”
“I can handle anything.” Jolene dropped his hand and stepped up on stage in front of the mic.
He chuckled and took the guitar being held out to him. Strap over his head, he fiddled with the instrument for a minute, getting the feel of it in his hands. He’d been playing since he was three years old, when his guitar had been bigger than him. Playing was the way he expressed himself the best, and he felt like he had a lot to say tonight.
Jolene was torn between just enjoying herself and feeling damn anxious over the way Chance was behaving. She had always thought she could only predict him up to a certain point. He was impulsive, he was moody, he was prone to outbursts. It had irritated her to no end that he could just switch emotions on a dime for no reason whatsoever and she was powerless to stop it. She could usually see it coming though. And she was sure something was about to go down with him tonight. He was in a weird mood.
But he definitely didn’t seem angry. In fact, he seemed the exact opposite. It wasn’t like him to be willing to step into public without a prearranged reason, and it definitely wasn’t like him to be willing to jump up on stage and play impromptu. The song he’d chosen was sexy as hell too, and one that always made her think about his strong, naked chest behind his guitar, his eyes boring into her like he wanted to devour every last inch of her. Twice.
He was looking at her that way now. Plus he’d kissed