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“You look … that dress is … wow,” I stutter.
“Weston Tuttle. Tongue-tied. I never thought I’d see the day,” she says.
“Stunning. You look stunning,” I state.
A throat clears. “No hot date tonight, Weston?”
My eyes shift to Brandee, who is seated next to Anna.
“Not tonight.”
“Do you want to join us?” Anna asks.
Brandee scoffs. “We’ll cramp his style. I’m sure he’s here to prey on some poor, lonely woman who’s drinking her sorrows away.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Now, I haven’t hit on you once tonight.”
She sticks her tongue out at me, and Anna giggles.
I look over my shoulder at the table of girls I was just entertaining and wave Morris over. He says something in the ear of the blonde at his right and stands.
I take a seat at the vacant chair to Anna’s left just as Morris makes it to the table.
“Hey, ladies. What are you two doing here?” Morris asks.
Brandee scoots her chair over to give him room to take the seat to her right. “Same as you,” she answers.
“I’m just here to keep Weston company. He’d look pathetic, eating alone on Valentine’s Day.”
“Like you had any other option,” I tease.
“I’ll have you know, I had a couple of young ladies I could have chosen to keep company with this evening, but I decided to spend it with you instead,” Morris quips.
“That’s so sweet of you. Taking care of your big brother like that,” Brandee coos as she pinches Morris’s cheek.
“That’s me. Sweet as pie.”
He smiles at her, and his Tuttle dimples grace his face. I swear I see Brandee swoon a bit.
“What are we having?” I ask as I wave the waitress over.
“Nothing more for me,” Anna answers just as Brandee says, “Pale ale, please.”
I look up at Kira and order two pale ales and two shots of whiskey. The guy with the microphone calls out Brandee’s and Anna’s names.
“Oh my God,” Anna says as she covers her face with her hands.
Brandee stands and grabs one of them and tugs Anna to her feet. “Come on. Let’s bring the house down.”
I watch in amusement as she drags a blushing Anna to the stage.
The first chords of Shania Twain’s “That Don’t Impress Me Much” begins to play.
The crowd goes wild as the two gorgeous sirens take the microphones off the stands.
I can see the beads of nervous moisture that are licking at Anna’s skin, and I smile up at her as Morris places two fingers in his mouth and gives a long, loud whistle.
It takes a couple of beats, but at Brandee’s urging and the encouragement of the audience, Anna finally lends her voice to the chorus.
