Jamal bypassed their table and headed for the stage. He spoke with the man who sat on a stool at the base of the stage, nodded, then looked back at her, flashing a smile as he climbed the steps and stepped up to the lone microphone.
“I don’t mean to usurp anyone’s time here on stage,” he said, “but this happens to be a pretty special night. I hope the crowd doesn’t mind if I serenade my date with a special song, just for her.”
“Oh my goodness,” Phil whispered again. She glanced around her, self-conscious as several of the people in the club sent smiles her way.
She should kick his ass for this. But honestly, who had ever done something so sweet?
When the first notes drifted from Jamal’s sax, Phil forgot about the people surrounding them. He played with passion, the perfect notes weaving their way around her.
His eyes were closed as he leaned over his instrument and stroked the brass keys. Every so often he’d look up at her, a smile lighting his eyes. Tremors of awareness traveled along her spine, as if the pads of his fingers were moving up and down her skin instead of the saxophone.
When Jamal drew out the last note, applause drifted around the half-filled club. He accepted the praise with a nod and thanked the musicians for allowing him to encroach on their space.
Phil stood and gently applauded him when he returned to the table.
“So?” he asked when he reclaimed his seat. “Was I any good?”
“I can’t even joke about it. You were amazing.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“Really, I wasn’t expecting that. You don’t just dabble in music. You’re good enough to be featured here or at any of the other jazz clubs around the city.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Jamal said with true modesty, “but I do love it. I always have. Music has always been my escape.”
She tilted her head to the side and studied him for several beats. “What have you had to escape from?” she asked.
“Not tonight,” he said, using the words she’d used earlier. “Let’s save that conversation for another time.”
“Fair enough,” Phil said. She felt the same way. The night had been too magical to mar it with unpleasant thoughts.
But, unfortunately, it was time to bring their magical night to an end.
“It really is time to head back,” she said in a mournful tone. “We have an hour’s drive ahead of us.”
“We can stay in the city,” he said.
Phil’s eyes widened at the suggestion.
“In separate rooms,” he added. “If that’s what you want.”
What she wanted and what she would agree to were two totally different things. She wanted to take him by the hand and lead him to the nearest hotel room, but she’d allowed her body to rule her once before, and she was still paying for it.
“I think we should head back to Gauthier. We both have a long day ahead of us.”
His disappointment was blatantly obvious, but to his credit, Jamal didn’t push, nor did he sulk, which was what Kevin would have done. Ever the gentleman, he paid their tab and, with his hand on the small of her back, guided her out of the club.
“Thank you,” Phil said as he held the door to his truck open for her.
“Thankyou,” he returned, wedging his body inside the truck cab and buckling her into the seat. “It’s been a while since I played my saxophone for anyone but myself. Thanks for giving me the opportunity.”
He leaned forward and pressed a swift, hot kiss against her lips, then closed the door. Phil’s eyes tracked him as he rounded the front, opened the door, and climbed into the truck.
“It was okay that I did that, right?” he asked.
“The kiss?”
He nodded.
