Page 44 of Armed ’N’ Ready

“Maybe later.” He winked. “For now, I’ll take two glasses of water.”

“Coming right up.” She squeezed water from a nozzle into two glasses, unable to peel her eyes from him as he gave all his friends dirty looks. As she carried over his water glasses, it hit her. For some reason, he hadn’t wanted to do this, and not just because it wasn’t part of his job. His friends had heckled him into it. He’d done it for her.

That stony resolve she’d erected to stay away from men—Nick in particular—slipped a solid foot. As if he felt her eyes on him, he turned and met her gaze. Since he was too far away to hear, she mouthed the words thank you.

You’re welcome, he mouthed back, then one corner of his mouth lifted into a lopsided grin.

Inexplicably, her heart began thumping harder. She set the water on the bar in front of him, and he guzzled the first glass without taking a breath. Her eyes went to his strong throat as he swallowed. Wow.

“Not bad, huh?”

She turned to find Matt watching her. The man really was handsome. All Nick’s friends were, but Nick was the only one who got her blood pumping until she thought it would shoot out her ears.

“You’re right. Not bad at all.” And Tess was right, too. A man like Nick didn’t come along every day.

Fifteen minutes later, he surprised her yet again by relocating the microphone to the top of the piano and sitting on the piano bench. Clapping greeted him, followed by whistling. The women in the crowd absolutely loved him.

“Thank you,” Nick said. “I’d like to dedicate the next song to my best friends in the back of the bar.”

This got his friends hooting even louder this time, lifting their beers to Nick as he launched into a raucous rendition of Garth Brooks’s “Friends in Low Places.”

For the next thirty minutes, the drinks flowed, and Marty sent out plate after plate of appetizers. Nick pounded the keys, engaging the crowd by taking requests and acknowledging two birthdays, one anniversary, and one couple who’d just gotten engaged. He finished up his last set with Jerry Lee Lewis’s “Great Balls of Fire.” She’d thought the applause had been deafening before, but that had been nothing compared to this. She resisted the impulse to cover her ears.

It was after one in the morning when she and Nick closed up the restaurant and let Saxon and Stray out of the kennel for a walk along the edge of the lake. The sky was clear, and the full moon reflected off the still water. With his dark coat, Saxon was barely visible, trotting ahead of them. Stray kept pace, her golden-brown coat shining in the moonlight, letting them know where the dogs were at all times.

For several minutes, they walked in comfortable silence broken only by the chirp of crickets and the hooting of an owl.

“Were you ever going to tell me you play the guitar and piano, and sing as well as anyone on the radio?”

“No,” he said simply.

She laughed. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not relevant.”

“Not relevant?” She stopped walking and caught his arm. “But you’re an amazing singer. The way you engaged the audience…you’re a natural showman. How in the world did you wind up being a cop?”

“I used to love performing, but law enforcement was my calling.” He began walking again, giving her no choice but to fall in step.

“Where did you perform?”

“High school and college, mostly.” He whistled softly, and both dogs came loping out of the darkness. “In school, I was torn between football and musicals, so I did both. I played football in the fall, and did musicals in the spring.”

“Were you any good at football?” She couldn’t imagine him not being as good at football as he was at performing, or at being a cop.

He laughed. “I could have gone pro, but I joined the marines right out of school.”

“Why?”

“Helping others and protecting this country and what it stands for was a stronger calling. Running around a football field wouldn’t have cut it.”

“Were you one of those SEALs?”

He laughed. “No. I went with Force Recon.”

“What’s that?”

“Some consider it the marine equivalent of the SEALs.”