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He’d messed up big time.
Faking a smile, she stepped up onto the stage with him. He still held her hand. Her palm was sweaty and her fingers threatened to slip free. He gave her a reassuring squeeze. She didn’t even look at him.
Lance sang and McKenzie came through from time to time, filling the backup role rather than taking a lead with him, as he’d initially hoped. Mostly, she mumbled, except during the chorus. With almost everyone in the crowd singing along, too, maybe no one noticed.
McKenzie noticed, though. The moment the song was over, she gave him the evil eye. “For the record, I don’t sing and if you ever do that to me again, it’ll be the last time.”
“That’s funny,” he teased, planning to keep their conversation light, to beg her forgiveness if he needed to. “I just heard you do exactly that.”
“Only a tone-deaf lunatic would call what I just did singing.”
“I thought you sounded good.”
“You don’t count.”
“Ouch.” He put his hand over his heart as if she’d delivered a fatal blow. “My references say I count.”
She flashed an annoyed look his way. “You’re really going to have to get over those references.”
“Or use them as a shield against the walloping you seem determined to deliver to me.”
“Not everyone enjoys being the center of attention.”
“Tell me the truth. You didn’t have fun onstage just then? Not even a little?” he coaxed.
McKenzie stared at him as if he was crazy. He was crazy.
“I detested being onstage in front of my coworkers.” She frowned as they moved onto the dance floor. Her body remained rigid, rather than relaxing against his like it had during their earlier dances. “For the record, I really don’t like people staring at me. Put it down to bad childhood memories of when my parents thrust me into situations where I got a lot of unwanted attention.”
When he’d gone after her to sing with him, he’d never considered that she might not enjoy being onstage. He’d just selfishly wanted her with him.
“I’m sorry, McKenzie. If I’d known how you felt, I wouldn’t have put you in the spotlight that way. I definitely would never intentionally upset you. It was all in fun, to kick off the night’s karaoke. That’s all.”
“I know you didn’t intentionally pull me up there to upset me,” she admitted. “I just prefer you not to put me in situations where all eyes are on me. I have enough bad childhood flashbacks as it is.”
“What kind of childhood flashbacks?”
“Just situations where my parents would yell and scream at each other regardless of where we were and no matter who was around. Way too often all eyes would be on me while they had a knock-down, drag-out. When people stare at me, it gives me that same feeling of humiliation and mortification.”
“I’m sorry your parents did that to you and that I made those negative feelings come to surface. But, for the record, maybe you’re finally getting past those old hang-ups because you were smiling.” She had been smiling. Mumbling and smiling.
“I was faking it.”
“Ouch.” His hand went to his chest and he pretended to receive another mortal blow. “Not good when a man’s woman has to fake it.”
“Exactly. So you should be careful what situations you put me into where I might have to fake other things,” she warned with a half smile. “I don’t sing. I barely dance. Take note of it.”
He pulled her to him, his hand low on her back, holding her close. “You dance quite nicely when you aren’t in rigor mortis. However, I’ll make a note. No more singing and barely dancing. Got it.”
“Good.”
“Also, for the record, when I put you in a certain situation, there will be no need for faking it.”
Her chin tilted up and she arched a brow in challenge. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’ll use every ounce of skill, every ounce of sheer will, every ounce of energy I have to make sure I blow your mind,” he whispered close for her ears only. “My pleasure will be seeing your pleasure. Feeling your pleasure.”
“That sounds...fun. Maybe you should have tried your hand at that instead of pulling me onstage with you.”
