Jake’s heart hit its next beat extra-hard. Of course she loved Robbie Robertson, because Rachael was damn-near perfect. “One of my faves,” he said, and then he sang—or rather spoke—along with Robbie, putting an extra helping of grit and growl into his voice, hoping to hit her right in the spine and parts a little more south.
And damn if she wasn’t playing the same game, when his own skin tingled and his cock jumped as she started whistling just as Robbie sang about a woman whistling right behind him. And what did Rachael whistle? Another of Jake’s favorites, “California Dreamin’”.
From there, the song lyrics became a dialogue between two potential lovers, and Jake and Rachael played their parts, harmonizing at the chorus. By the time they got to the line where the woman tells the guy he’ll learn to love it later, and Rachael laid her hand on Jake’s thigh for the briefest, most tantalizing moment before pulling back and laughing, he wondered who was seducing whom.
The next song, “Hell’s Half Acre” started up, and Jake snatched the tape out of the player. “Too much of a downer,” he said by way of explanation. A song about a man picking up a gun and leaving his woman for a war struck just a little too close to home. “You pick something.” He nodded toward the tape case on the bench between them. Rachael opened it and her hand landed immediately on the Mamas and the Papas “If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears” cassette which had “California Dreamin’” on it.
“No way,” she said, laughing.
“Yeah, you’re psychic,” he answered. “A regular Madame X,” he added, referring back to “Somewhere Down the Crazy River.”
“You ever hear Sia’s version of “California Dreamin’”?”
“Can’t say as I have.”
Rachael just grinned. “You like it now…”
“But I’ll learn to love it later. Are we going to keep mis-quoting song lyrics all night?”
“Got it in one. Yup.”
“Okay, good. Just checking.” Jake watched Rachael settle back in her seat, huge smile on her face as she watched Colorado—and her freedom—come closer.
Correction, Jake thought,Rachaelisperfect, in every single way.
* * *
The Hideaway was quiet on Monday nights, more restaurant than bar. Bill and his wife, Connie, sat with their daughter at a table near the front door. Jenny still wore her soccer uniform as she devoured a burger like a starving wolf cub. Walking in, Jake watched Bill study his eleven-year-old daughter with the proud ferocity of any good wolf-dad.
“Slow down, honey, you’re gonna give yourself a stomachache,” Connie said, laughing. She was as sweet as she was lovely, with crinkly crow’s feet around her eyes as testament to her many smiles. Jake had already made her and Jenny’s acquaintances a week ago when he’d stopped in. Monday nights, Bill brought their daughter in after practice and Connie met them there, taking Jenny home after dinner so Bill could finish up the shift. Jake thought of Bill and Connie as Paul McCartney’s Desmond and Molly Jones.
“Mom.” Jenny rolled her eyes. “Dad ate his burger even faster.”
“He’s a terrible role model.”
“Do you wanna cut my food up for me, too?”
“I’m just trying to be a good mother. Now, shush and drink your beer,” Connie answered, pointing to Jenny’s glass of root beer next to her own. They picked up their glasses and clinked them solemnly before breaking down into giggles.
“Jake.” Bill waved to Jake and Rachael as they walked to the table in the meantime. His eyes widened along with his smile as Jake held up his guitar case. “Finally gonna give us a song tonight, huh?” He gave Rachael a chin dip. “Or maybe give the songbird something to sing along to?”
That comes later, Jake thought as his body heated up. “If the songbird will have me. But after she hears me play, that’s doubtful.”
After waving to Jake, Jenny went back to demolishing her burger. Connie didn’t. She looked at Rachael curiously instead. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
Bill stood and picked up his empty plate. “Connie, this is the woman I was telling you about from the other night, Raquel,” he said, using the fake name Rachael had given him after her performance.
Rachael extended her hand to Connie. “Good to meet you. I hope we’re not disturbing your family time.” She glanced at Jenny.
Connie stood and shook Rachael’s hand. “Not at all, we were just finishing up. Jenny’s on her second burger. She burns through calories at practice and it makes her ravenous.” She smiled warmly, but those crow’s feet crinkled around puzzled eyes.
What are you seeing, Connie? Jake thought.
Bill grabbed Connie’s plate and stacked it on his. “Stay a bit, Babe. You’ve got to hear Raquel sing.”
Connie opened then closed her mouth as she looked at her daughter. “I don’t know. Jenny has homework—”
“I finished most of it in study hall.” She handed her now-empty plate to her father. “I wanna hear her sing and Jake play. Do you know any Beyoncé?”
