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“I’ll help,” he said, straightening.
Jess frowned. “I thought you and Whitney would be celebrating your birthday tonight. Happy birthday, by the way.”
He shrugged casually. “I think she forgot what day it is.” She’d left that morning for work without saying “happy birthday,” and he’d yet to receive a text from her about whether she’d be home in time for dinner or any indication that she had anything special planned.
Jess’s gaze was sympathetic. “Sorry, Trent.”
He waved a hand. “You know I don’t care about birthdays.” He glanced around the bakery. “Where do you want me to start?”
But hours later, after helping Jess deliver the horror-themed baked goods to the B&B and enjoying birthday takeout with his cousin and Sarah and Wes, Trent still hadn’t heard from Whitney. It was after ten p.m. when he left the B&B and still no reply from the text he’d sent five hours before. He’d only texted once, having learned over the years that when she was busy, more frequent texts just added to her stress. It did annoy him that when she went to work, it was as if she’d gone to another planet. Unreachable. But there wasn’t much he could do about it.
He drove along Main Street and sighed. He didn’t feel like going home and being there alone. A workout would be a good idea, but the gym was closed already.
Luckily, he owned a bar. If there was a place that could help drown out the silence of an un-ringing cell phone and quiet the nagging thoughts in his mind, it was Monday night at his bar.
Karaoke night.
As he pushed through the doors and entered the dimly lit space, the sound of unmerciful wailing over the speakers made him wince, and a memory of another birthday hit him hard.
…
Then…
“What about karaoke?”
Trent shook his head so fast, he thought he might get whiplash. “Not a chance in hell,” he told Whitney as they sat in the empty bar the week before the grand opening, planning the weekly entertainment schedule.
Shoes off, she was sitting cross-legged in the booth, looking comfortable and relaxed, while he was sweating bullets. In a few days, the bar would be open. He really hoped the town embraced the tavern as much as they’d once loved the old bar that used to be there, owned by Sarah Lewis’s parents.
Whitney’s pretty eyes widened. “What do you have against karaoke?”
“Besides the butchering of perfectly good classics?”
“It’s fun,” she said with that seductive smile of hers that made it hard not to reach across the booth, grab her face, and kiss her until all planning was forgotten.
“It’s never happening inside my bar,” he said with a wink.
And yet somehow that beautiful woman who’d captured his attention in that past year got her way. And on opening night, too. Which also happened to be his birthday.
That year, there was only one thing he wanted. Standing near the bar, in the packed space, he couldn’t tear his eyes off her as she and Jess did a duet of some classic rock song onstage. Dressed in black leather pants, a pale-pink oversize sweater hanging off one shoulder, and the sexiest heels he’d ever seen, she had him practically drooling. Her face was lit up as she laughed and sang terribly off-key and out of sync with the melody.
Jess was laughing too hard to cover for Whitney’s fail, but the crowd thought they were adorable. Everyone seemed to be having an amazing time, and while he couldn’t wait for karaoke hour to be over and the local band to take over, he had to admit, it had brought in an early crowd to launch the grand opening event with a packed house.
The brilliant, beautiful Whitney had been right.
Her gaze locked with his as the song ended, and the sight of her had his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t even feel his legs move until he’d reached the stage himself and put in his own request to the karaoke DJ.
The next three and a half minutes were either going to change his life for the better or be his biggest embarrassment.
…
Whitney’s mouth dropped as Trent climbed onto the stage and took the mic. The man who had been adamant about not having karaoke in his bar was actually going to participate? Her cheeks were still flushed from being up there herself with Jess, and she reached for her martini and took a sip before leaning toward her friend. “Can he sing?”
Jess looked just as shocked to see her cousin up there. “Guess we’re going to find out.”
Onstage, Trent looked nervous as the soft opening beats of a familiar country song started to play. He clutched the mic and cleared his throat. Loudly.
“Sorry,” he said into the mic.
