We head down Main Street as a gentle breeze blows through. When Lauren shivers, I stop, pulling off my Carhartt jacket and handing it to her.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s cold out, and you’re shivering.”
“I’m not going to take your coat from you. It’s not even supposed to hit freezing tonight. I’ll be okay.”
“Just take it.” I hold it out for her and help her hesitantly slip it on.
“Thank you. I’m sorry. I would’ve brought a better jacket if I knew we were going to walk a few blocks.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” Concern laces her brows. I should’ve known she’d be resistant to my help, however small.
“I promise. Besides, I kind of like seeing you in my jacket.”
Her cheeks flush, and she’s saved from having to answer when we arrive at our destination. It’s hard to miss considering the giant red sign on the roof that readsCain’sand the matching sign hanging off the front of the building.
I open the door and gesture for Lauren to go first so she can get out of the cold. As I follow, I take in the incredible building with various posters covering the brick walls. A bar sits at the back end of the venue, and the opening act must’ve already started because music drifts through the rafters of the high ceilings. The acoustics alone make me want to stay.
A woman approaches us, asking for our tickets.
“We don’t have any.” I grimace. “Is it too late to buy some?”
“You’re in luck. We still have a few left.”
“Who’s playing tonight?”
“It’s a country band called 49 Winchester.”
Turning to Lauren, I ask, “What do you think?”
“Have you heard of them?”
“I know a few of their songs. They’re pretty good if you’re into a raspy voice and that grass roots sound.”
She smiles. “Let’s do it. I have to check it off my list anyway.”
I hand the woman my credit card.
Lauren swivels on me, a look of frustration on her face. “No, you’re not buying our tickets! You’re only here because of me.”
“I may be in Tulsa because of you, but we areherebecause of me.”
“Oh, is going to a concert on your list too?” She arches a brow and places a hand on her hip as if to saycheckmate.
I sigh. “No, but I was the one who suggested we come here.”
The woman looks between the two of us, tapping her foot as she waits to swipe my card.
Sensing her impatience, Lauren drops her arm. “Fine, you can pay.”
We head inside and Lauren leads the way up to the bar. The opening band has already exited the stage. “Can I at least buy you a drink?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She clings on to my arm. “Please.”
