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“Yeah, but we were working on the cover for my next CD. Just finished up at Beaman Park. Catie Marlowe, this is Joel Petersen, owner of this fine establishment.”
She grinned at him. “Pleased to meet you. I’ve meant to stop in before, but I’m usually driving past here in the early afternoon on my way back to Pineridge. I didn’t know if you were open for business then.”
“Sweetheart, anytime you want to drop in, I’ll be open for business.” Joel amped up his normal level of schmooze, pouring it on thick. “So, you’re…what? His collaborator? His…”
That’s right, asshole. She’s mine. Back off.
Damnation! I sat back in my chair, wondering where the hell that had come from. I’d met her a minute ago, and I already wanted to stake a claim on this woman?
“I’m designing the cover for his next release.” Catie smiled at him.
“We’re sure looking forward to hearing his latest work. He’s been in here talking about it some. Playing us a couple samples of the songs. Pretty sure it’s his best work ever.” Joel shoved a hand in his back pocket.Did he just thrust his hip in Catie’s direction?
An unfamiliar emotion simmered under the surface of my normally calm demeanor.Am I fucking jealous?I grabbed one of the plastic cards he’d left on the table. “We’re here working, Joel. Can you give us a second to look at the menu?”
He squinted at my abrupt tone. I held his stare until he shrugged. “Sure thing, Cal. Can I get y’all some drinks?”
I quirked a brow at Catie.
She glanced up at Joel, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. “I’ll have a diet cola.”
He grinned at her then looked at me, a smirk on his face. I ordered a sweet tea, despite really, really wanting a double shot of Bulleit Rye.
Joel sauntered away, whistling the tune of one of my more popular songs.Smart ass.“She’s Mine” was my breakout hit. Before I sent the music out into the world, I’d first performed the piece for the regular crowds in this bar, when Joel’s dad had sponsored open-mic nights. Their avid response to the tune was enough for me to go ahead and mail out my demo CDs, praying it was good enough to get an offer of representation.
Pour It On’s patrons had encouraged me to keep the faith when I hadn’t heard back from the baker’s dozen of agencies I’d reached out to. After six hellacious weeks, I finally heard back from three of the thirteen. Asher and I had clicked, and he’d been my agent since then.
“What are you going to order?’ Catie asked, not looking up from the menu. “Are the burgers good here?”
“Can’t go wrong with them. The fried catfish sandwich is always a winner.” I pointed to that entry on the menu.
She wrinkled her nose. “Uh…I’ll pass.”
“Not a fan?”
She laughed. “I’m not even a fan of fans of catfish.”
I clapped a hand to my chest in mock pain. “Red! Catfish is like manna from heaven. You haven’t lived until you’ve cast a line, hooked a channel cat, filleted it, and fried it for dinner.”
Canting her head to the side, she gave it a tiny shake, her brows lifted. “I love steak, but that doesn’t mean I want to go slaughter a cow and carve out a hunk of meat for dinner.”
I laughed over the mental image she’d planted in my damn brain.
Her nose wrinkled in a display of aversion, she continued, “You know they suck scum off the bottom of dirty rivers, right?”
“Well, yeah. How do you think they get so big? Saw a video of one that was nine feet.” That damn fish was taller than me.
Joel returned with our drinks. “Y’all ready to order?”
“I’ll just have a burger and fries,” Catie said decisively.
“Same.” I handed the menus back to Joel.
When Joel strolled away, Catie busied herself with attaching cables from her camera to the small laptop she’d carried in. I pushed the miniature bushel-basket condiment holder to the edge of the table and scooted my chair closer to hers for a better view.
She bent over the camera, checking the fit of the wires, her head right under my nose. And yeah, I did inhale. Not gonna lie. She smelled sweet, like apple blossoms and spice. When she tucked a hank of hair behind her ear, her fingers brushed my chin. A spark of attraction arced pleasantly through me.
“Sorry.” She eased away.
