“I thought you Irish were meant to be tough.” Jake cupped her cheek, running his thumb over the soft flushed skin. “Where’s that fighting backbone your countrymen are known for?” Jake gave Annabelle a look and she dropped Branna’s hand.
“I can’t do this, Jake.”
He pulled her into his arms, ignoring the people around him, and whispered into her ear. “I heard you sing once, and I remember thinking that I’d never heard anyone sound like you before. Every hair on my body stood up, and I thought that one day I’d be listening to you on the radio, Rosebud. You have the voice a million musicians would die for. If you don’t want to sing because it scares you, fine, I’ll get you out of here, but if it’s because you don’t believe you can, then I’m here to tell you that’s bull.”
She sighed, her breath brushing his neck. Then, lifting her head, she gave him a wobbly smile.
“I hate that you always know just the right thing to say all the time. I hated it in school, and I have to say it still bugs me.” Her words made him smile.
“What can I say? Life sucks.”
She kissed him, which surprised the hell out of Jake, because she wasn’t one for demonstrative gestures, especially not in front of the entire town of Howling. Then she let Annabelle lead her through the throng of people toward the stage. He lost sight of her briefly before she took the stairs.
“I’m thinking a mystery muffin might have to be made in her honor for this. I’ve never seen a woman turn white that fast,” Buster said, as he and Jake watched the girls walk up the steps.
“You know how anything that crawls turns you into a weeping, sniveling infant? Well, this kind of thing does that to her… without the weeping and sniveling.”
Buster whistled, not at all put out by Jake’s explanation.
“She’s scared to death then.”
“And then some,” Jake added, watching Branna say something to Mr. Hope that made him laugh. She talked to the guitarist, drummer, and Annabelle, and after a discussion, they all took a few seconds doing things with their instruments. Then Branna stepped up to the microphone and Jake held his breath.
Come on, baby, you can do this.
“I’ll be expecting you all to dance, seeing as you dragged us up here.” Nerves made her accent thicker. A ripple of laughter swept through the crowd after she spoke.
“There will be two songs, as Mr. Hope won’t let up after just one. So if you don’t like what you hear, stick your fingers in your ears.”
Beside him, Buster snorted, and Jake felt a smile on his lips. She looked so sexy standing up there, and she was his.
Her voice was still amazing, that deep, husky purr that ran up and down his spine. Accompanied by Annabelle’s backup vocals and nimble fingers on the keyboard, they sounded as if they’d been playing together for years. They played two well-known rock ballads that had everyone dancing, like Branna had asked them to. She’d gone up there terrified, but delivered an amazing performance. He was so proud of her his chest hurt.
“She’s good.”
Jake didn’t answer Buster; his eyes never moved from Branna.
He thought about what she’d endured and overcome to be the smart, funny, sexy woman he knew today. She’d fought her battles alone, as far as he could see, but she’d come out the other side. Jake knew she had baggage, most people had some, but she’d gone on living her life, being who she wanted to be.
“So, you know how I said I’d stand aside and give you a clear run with her, McBride?”
“She’s mine, Tex. Go find your own woman,” Jake said, as Ethan moved to his other side.
“The little lady can sing, McBride. Can’t believe she doesn’t do it for a living.”
“I thought you liked her books?”
“I do, they’re awesome, but hell, this is talent.”
“It is at that,” Jake agreed.
“Annabelle’s got some talent going on there too. Shame she’s such a she-devil.”
Buster joined in the conversation by saying. “You’re just pissed she turned you down when you asked her on a date.”
“Shut up, bakery boy. When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” Ethan said.
“Make me that appointment when you fly home tomorrow, Ethan.”
