Page 54 of My Favorite Hero

Saturday night, I perused my closet. I wasn’t a girly girl. I preferred jeans and leggings to skirts. When I had to dress for business, I had two nice pantsuits. I didn’t own a dress. I couldn’t handle heels, and the one pair of dressier shoes I owned were flats.

Then I reminded myself it was a bar and we were doing karaoke. I pulled on a pair of leggings and added a tunic. It flowed nicely, and I felt good in it, the blue making my eyes stand out.

I added a touch of lip gloss. That was it for me when it came to makeup, usually.

I drove to the bar, parking at the side, and I went in, pleased to see Cal and Lori already there. Cal’s friend, Chris, was getting drinks and waved at me, holding up a beer. I shook my head and indicated the wineglass on the tray. He gave me a thumbs-up, and I headed to the table, saying hi to everyone. Chris came over, setting the tray down and handing me a glass of white wine. “House,” he said.

“Great. What do I owe?”

He waved me off. “Nothing.”

“Next round on me,” I replied.

He clinked his beer to my wineglass. “Great.”

There were two other couples, and I was quiet, listening to them. They talked about their kids, their houses, jobs. Interesting things in town. I didn’t have a lot to add to the conversation, but when they asked about what I did, I explained it, and they were all curious and asked questions. They were friendly, and I liked them all.

Chris sat beside me, and I noticed he kept looking at me and smiling. He was a decent-looking guy, average height, slim build, his hair cut short, and his dark eyes friendly. He told a lot of jokes—some of which fell flat, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

When the karaoke started, our table was the first to get up. The guys sang a cowboy song, and I let the women choose ours. I withheld my groan when they insisted on “It’s Raining Men,” but I went along with it and sang, hamming it up a little. I’d only had one glass of wine, but I never drank much, so it was all I needed to loosen up. When I was challenged to sing alone, I took it, walked up to the stage, and chose my favorite song.

The crowd had grown and clapped loudly as “Holding Out for a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler started to play. I always had fun singing the song, letting my voice belt it out loudly. I wasn’t a singer by any means, but I could carry a tune.

I moved across the stage, singing and flinging my arms dramatically, acting out the song. The crowd clapped, whistled, and sang with me. At one point as I faced the bar, I pointed to the crowd as I sang the chorus, and something caught my eye. A familiar set of eyes watching me from the edge of the bar. Smiling and clapping with everyone.

Jesse.

I blinked, and he was gone. Back into the shadows or simply an illusion my mind came up with, I didn’t know.

Then the song was over, and I waved off the shouts of encore and returned to the table. I sat down, drinking the bottle of water I had asked Lori for. I wiped my forehead. “Warm in here.”

Chris laughed. “You were great.”

“Thanks.” I stood. “Excuse me.”

I went to the ladies’ room, my gaze sweeping the bar. I didn’t see Jesse. It had to be a figment of my imagination. He was at the station, working. Not out on a Saturday night.

I splashed some cold water on my face, feeling better for the refreshing cool. I was on the way back to the table when someone stepped in front of me.

Jesse.

I hadn’t seen him since the day after the incident. I stayed out of his way while he installed the pet doors, and he left without saying goodbye since Miller and Barney had quickly started using the convenient way to see each other. He had waved as he left for his shift, but that was all of our contact. I had felt a little sad about it, then decided it was for the best. I seemed to be on my worst behavior when he was around.

I gasped in shock. “What are you doing here?”

He grinned. “Picking up wings for the crew. I arrived just in time for the show.”

I laughed. “One-time performance.”

“You were really into it.”

I shrugged. “Gotta give the people what they want.”

He stepped closer, his voice low. “Is that what you want, Pixie? A hero?”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “I-I was just singing.”

“Sounded pretty personal to me.”