“Just because you’ve had trouble following your own advice doesn’t mean it’s not good advice. I was thinking about what you said, that I need to hit rock bottom. I figured I’d give it a shot tonight. Care to join me?”
Her heart leaped, and she nodded.
Liam spied the amused look on Kate’s face as they approached his truck. He opened the door to his old F150 for her. “What?”
“Nothing. I thought you were lying about the pick-up truck.”
“Would I lie about this beauty?” He patted the rusty exterior. “It might look like crap but it’s still a smooth ride. Another plus is the paparazzi expect me to drive a fancy car. When I’m in this thing, they don’t even see me.” She slid into the passenger seat and he leaned on the door. “What do you drive?”
“I don’t have my license.”
“How old are you?” he teased.
“Thirty.”
“Just a few years younger than me. You’re getting pretty ripe, woman. Time to get that learner’s permit.”
She grinned but her cheeks reddened. “I don’t drive because I have epilepsy.”
“Oh.” His face burned up as well. “Damn. I didn’t mean to…”
“Don’t worry about it.” She slapped her thigh in anticipation. “C’mon. Get in the car. Let’s go.”
He wondered about her condition. Were her seizures bad? How long had she suffered from them? Did she take medication? A million questions ran through his head, none of which were his business.
“Hey,” she said when he didn’t move. “Rock bottom’s not going to hit itself.”
“Right.” He shut the door and got in on the other side. As he started the engine, he noticed the way her denim-clad thighs looked next to his. Soft and round, tapering to an elegant knee. It was so tempting to reach over and run his fingers up her thigh. The thought gave him an immediate hard on, one he tried to disguise with an arm casually draped across his lap. Shit, he hadn’t come all this way to ogle Kate Callender’s legs or any other part of her for that matter. He’d come to get shit-faced with someone who understood his shame.
He peeled out of her neighborhood and headed for the Las Vegas Freeway, turning away from the Strip on W. Sahara Avenue. He wanted no flashing lights tonight, no reminders of who he was or where his obligations were. He wanted to be in a place that reminded him of his roots.
Once they were well on their way, Kate turned to him. “Where are we going?”
“A place I know called Franky’s.”
“Franky’s? Wait, I know that bar. It’s a total dive.”
Liam feigned horror. “Which makes it the best bar in town, even if it wasn’t run by my friend. Anyway, if it’s such a dive, how do you know it?”
“Like any professional singer, I’ve done my share of waitressing. One of my friends waitressed at Franky’s. I popped in once or twice.”
“I still can’t believe you’re a singer. So, do you wear a metal breastplate and horns on your head?”
She giggled. “No, I don’t sing opera. I sing torch songs. Piano-bar stuff.”
“Is that so?” Well, well. He still needed a crooner for Decadence. Maybe he could get her to sing for him. Too bad Franky didn’t offer karaoke so he could see what kind of skills she had. He’d never really been of the belief that the universe provided, but something had provided Kate.
“Any chance I’ve heard you somewhere?” he asked.
“Maybe. My one and only claim to fame is being the voice of Calvert’s Used Automobiles.”
“No shit? Those ads are so bad they’re good. You have a sexy singing voice, Kate.”
The roses on her cheeks made her few freckles pop. “Well, thanks, but you might not be hearing much of it in the future. I quit.”
“How come?”
“Let’s just say Mr. Calvert has busy hands and leave it at that.”
