tucked the thought away until he had a chance to share the idea with his NIGHTWIND team.
It was the end of another glorious Southern California day. A slight January chill hung in the air as the evening shadows approached. The hot food and drinks were just what they needed.
He was shoveling delicious, seared scallops topped by a rich lobster sauce into his mouth when Summer miscalculated the sauce to tidbit ratio on a mini crab cake. As her lips closed around the tasty morsel, a glob of remoulade nosedived, landing on a boob. She groaned and looked down, giving him a good reason to follow her gaze and check out what wasn’t exactly hidden beneath a sweater.
“I cannot believe that just happened.” She scowled at the goo.
What did he do? His inner caveman pretended to act like a good guy who was just trying to be helpful. He took a napkin in one hand, held her boob with the other, and carefully dabbed the saucy splotch.
She didn’t object, and she also barely breathed while he skirted the line of a public fondle.
“You’re something. I don’t know what that something is, but you’re it,” she said with a trace of laughter in her voice.
“I’m just trying to stand out.”
“Well, it’s working. Hey, when we’re finished here, I saw something when we drove around the block. A karaoke club. You wanna check it out?”
Karaoke? Sure. Why the hell not? He nodded. “I should warn you that I do a mean Robert Plant.”
“Who’s Robert Plant?” she asked so earnestly that he was momentarily startled. A heartbeat later, he sensed her rock ’n’ roll innocence was a smokescreen and felt his whole being pulse with happiness. Summer was one-of-a-kind.
“What’s the first song you remember as a kid?”
The smokiness in her eyes turned to a gleam. “You mean what’s the lead-in on the soundtrack of my life?”
Yep, no doubt whatsoever. She was fantastic.
“That’s easy. My dad was hard-core into 70s and 80s singer-songwriters. Jackson Browne. James Taylor. Joni Mitchell. Whenever I hear ‘Take It Easy,’ I’m singing into my hairbrush.”
“Mine is ‘Don’t Stop Believing.’ Journey. My mom was a fan, and Dad never let go.”
Her smile was incandescent. “Karaoke takes balls. Think you have what it takes?”
His normal, flippant comeback about having a bionic testicle died on his tongue. He didn’t want to play that game—not with her. If he had to one day explain his urologist’s autograph stitched on his inner thigh, he would, but until then, he decided to lay off the bullshit war hero talk.
“My balls will rise to the occasion, pretty Summer.”
She giggle-snorted, covered her nose and mouth, blushed, and giggle-snorted again. “You’re shameless.”
“And now you know my superpower,” he boldly declared.
With the prospect of foolishness hanging in the air, they finished their delightful foodie feast and dashed in the direction of the karaoke bar. Summer picked up their pace. Her excitement was adorable.
He took care of the cover charge and got them a table situated in the middle of the action. The little club was boisterously alive despite it being so early in the evening.
“I’ll put our names down for a spot,” he told her with a wink. “Last chance to chicken out.”
“If you’re waiting for me to have a change of heart, you’ll be waiting a long time.” She made a brush-off gesture. “What do you want to drink? I see the waitress headed this way.”
“What are you having?”
“Cosmopolitan,” she stated in a powerful voice. “Liquid courage.”
“In that case, I’ll have a dirty martini, extra olives.”
At the check-in, he gave their names, earned a chuckle from the guy keeping the list, and dropped a wad of bills into a donation box for the local animal shelter. He got back to the table just as their drinks arrived.
“Here,” he said with a laughing smirk. “Got you a name tag. Look, it’ll cover the stain on your sweater.” He peeled the backing paper off and carefully applied it to her rack.
She laughed the whole time, and asked, “Barbie?”
“Yep.” He smacked a name tag onto his chest. “And I’m Ken.”
“Very blond.”
“I know,” he drawled. “But put on the spot, I couldn’t think of another blond duo. I’ll do better next time.”
The first few performances ranged from appalling to a guy who should be on tour. He had a blast due in no small part to the vivacious lady at his side. She loved everything, even the off-key singers. Her positivity glowed like a halo.