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I smirked over the rim of my glass. “I knew you didn’t have the chops.”

He leaned in, eyes narrowing. “You’re talking real big for someone who’s never heard me sing.”

Katie grinned and wiped down the counter. “You should go up, Rose. Show him how it’s done.”

I let out a light laugh, shaking my head. “Not a chance.”

Wells took a slow sip of his drink. “What’s the matter? Big city girl scared of a little Wippowa crowd?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Oh, you wish that was the case.”

He shrugged. “Only one way to prove me wrong.”

I stared at him, then flicked my gaze to the karaoke stage, where the current singer had just finished to a mix of cheers and playful boos. My stomach flipped, but maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

I downed my drink, stood, and smirked. “Fine. You’re on.”

Wells leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “This is gonna be real good.”

I strode toward the karaoke sign-up sheet, ignoring the warmth creeping up my neck. The last time I sang in public was probably in my car with the windows rolled up, but I wasn’t about to let Wells think I was too chicken to follow through. The alcohol would kick in soon and my confidence would grow.

Flipping through the song choices, I searched for something that wouldn’t completely embarrass me. Nothing too slow, nothing that required vocal gymnastics, and definitely nothing that screamed I take myself too seriously. Then I found it—Dolly Parton. Classic. Fun. And if all else failed, everyone would be too busy singing along to notice if I was terrible.

I scribbled my name on the list and turned back toward the bar. Wells was still watching me, an easy smirk pulling at his lips.

“You look mighty confident over there, Sunshine,” he teased as I reclaimed my seat.

I lifted my glass—empty, but it was the principle. “Fake it ‘til you make it.”

Katie walked by and let out a whistle. “She’s singing? This I gotta see.”

I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, the guy running karaoke called “Rose Solace”.

“Oh, hell,” I muttered under my breath.

Wells chuckled. “No backing out now.”

Squaring my shoulders, I walked up to the small stage. The room wasn’t huge, but it felt bigger when everyone turned their attention my way. I adjusted the microphone stand, took a deep breath, and waited as the opening notes filled the room.

And then, I sang.

The first few words wobbled, but by the time I hit the chorus, the whole bar was clapping and singing along. Someone in the back whooped. A few people started swaying, drinks raised in encouragement. I caught Wells watching me with a mix of amusement and something else I couldn’t quite place.

By the time the song ended, my heart was pounding, but I was grinning. The bar erupted into cheers, and I let out a breath, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

I hopped off the stage and made my way back to the bar. Wells was shaking his head, a lopsided smile spread across his face.

“Well?” I asked, grabbing my now-full glass and holding it out.

He clinked his against mine. “I stand corrected. You’ve got guts.”

I took a sip, savoring the burn of bourbon. “Don’t forget it.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “Oh, I won’t.”

I had to admit it—the butterflies in my stomach were in full flight. Maybe it was the bourbon, or maybe it was the way Wells was looking at me, but either way, I was in trouble.

Big trouble.