“Play,” she said, and I tore my eyes from Tim to look at her questioningly. Her mouth curved into that pretty smile that always managed to undo me. “Please? I’d love to see you play.”
My heart gave a hard thump at the wordlove.
Half hoping she’d change her mind and let Tim find some other fool who’d stupidly advertised they knew their way around a few chords, I asked in disbelief, “Really?”
She nodded, eyes bright and smiling at me again. “Really, really.”
And that was that.
I didn’t want to play, not tonight and definitely not right now. Not when the only place I wanted to be was right here with her. I wanted to be the guy holding her during these songs, not the guy playing them for her. But hell if I could tell her no, especially when she was looking at me like that—like I could hang the damn moon if I wanted to.
So, I exhaled a quiet laugh and gave her a look that said: Okay, you win.
Then I stepped away and headed for the stairs.
Tim met me at the top and handed over a guitar, clapping my shoulder in thanks as I adjusted the strap and settled the instrument against me. After an all too brief meeting with the band to ensure I knew the songs—which thankfully were all covers—I settled into my designated spot and curled my fingers over the strings. The small crowd buzzed, the stage lights were warm on my face, and nerves crept up my spine. But none ofthat mattered when my eyes landed on Andi—standing there in the front row delicately biting the bottom of her smile as she watched in excited anticipation.
The drummer lifted his sticks and counted the band into a rendition of Blake Shelton’sJust South of Heaven. A few chords in, the crowd dispersed into twos on the makeshift dance floor, but Andi stayed put—the glow from the stage lights catching her hair and illuminating her soft, dreamy gaze. The lyrics floated through the night air, and damn if I didn’t feel every word as the singer belted out about this place beyond the Jericho line and where the river unwinds. That,to him, was heaven on Earth.
But as I locked eyes with the girl in the pretty red sundress who tasted like strawberries, I knew that if there was such a place as heaven on Earth, thatthatright therewould be mine.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Zane
“You’ve been holdingout on me, cowboy.”
The road stretched ahead in a long straightaway of worn-out chip seal and moonlight, cutting through the dark fields as the remnants of Tim's party faded in my rearview. Andi had kicked off her boots not long after we’d pulled away from Tim’s, and now her bare feet were propped out the passenger window. With one hand on the steering wheel and eyes that refused to stay on the road, I took her in—at the way her head tilted back against the seat, eyes closed and face turned toward the open window as the warm night air slid across her skin and played with her hair, lifting it from where it lay around her shoulders to dance in the breeze. At her toes—painted the same shade as that little red sundress—wiggling as she bounced her foot along to the beat of an old country song playing through the speakers. She looked so content, and the sight of her like that made my chest go warm. Almost like the last remaining part of my icy heart had finally thawed.
“How so?” I asked.
Her lips curved in a way that said she saw right through me as she cracked one eye open. “You didn’t think to mention that you play guitar like that, or played guitarat all?”
I shrugged and looked back at the road. “It’s nothing.”
“You say it like most people can just pick up a guitar anddothat,” she said, and I quickly picked up the interest in her voice. “Are there any other talents you’ve been hiding?”
The way she said it made my mind go places, and I turned over a few blush-inducing responses in my head before shutting them down. Instead, I said, “I can eat twelve grapes in under twelve seconds.”
From my periphery, I saw her head tilt the slightest fraction toward me and her eyebrows knit together curiously. “And how does one discover a talent like that?”
I chuckled. “It’s a Spanish New Year’s thing. Norah heard about it from a friend of a friend a few years back and made us all do it one year.” I shrugged. “It’s supposed to bring you good luck or something.”
“Did it?” Andi asked, sounding skeptical but intrigued.
I shrugged again. “I didn’t choke, so I guess that was pretty lucky.”
She captured her bottom lip between her teeth as she shook her head and turned back into the breeze—the breeze that was currently testing to see just how much temptation a guy could handle at fifty miles an hour as Andi’s dress fluttered against her thighs, the hem of it sliding higher and higher with each gust that slipped through the window.
My hand flexed on the wheel.
“I had a really nice time tonight,” she said after a minute.
“Yeah?” I glanced her way.
She nodded. “Your friends…they’re all so easy to be around.” Her eyes lingered on the dark road stretching out before us. “I envy you a little bit.”
“Why?” My eyes darted to the road then back to her.
