Listening to the beautiful singer made him feel the way he’d felt when he went to his first concert, if the impromptu live session at his small town’s local barbecue joint could be really called a concert. Whatever the proper term for it, Levi, then six years old, had immediately fallen in love with the way live music could be experienced not only with his ears but with the whole of his body.
What he felt now was the opposite of the burnout he had been experiencing these past few months while working. This was invigorating, electrifying.
Like the players at that long-ago barbecue restaurant, this singer was more raw talent than professional training. There was a roughness to her voice in places, but that lack of polish somehow added to the overall effect of her performance.
Levi didn’t think he blinked once during the entire song. This was why he loved music. This was why he’d fallen in love with it, why he had dedicated his whole life to it.
This was why he couldn’t ever leave it behind, not even when he was at his lowest point of the burnout.
He was halfway through his plan to get himself introduced to her when he remembered the little boy.
Right. She might be a great singer, and he might feel a draw to her that was practically instinctual, but that didn’t mean he was going to chat up a married woman. He had a sense of ethics.
So, when she stopped singing, he just clapped politely along with everyone else, and pushed away the sinking disappointment in his chest.
It was still a good evening, he reminded himself. Still a very good evening.
There was a brief lull in the music while the workers set up for the next performer, who apparently would be using a keyboard that needed to be plugged into a nearby amp. Levi wasn’ttryingto eavesdrop on the tableful of women nearby while the emcee scurried around getting everything connected, but he justhappenedto hear.
“Is it just me, or is June getting better and better?” asked a woman with wavy strawberry blonde hair who looked to be in her mid-thirties.
June, he thought, satisfied even though he didn’t have any reason to be curious about her name.
A slightly older woman with longer, deep red hair gave her head an impressed shake. “It’s not just you. She’s a marvel. Single mom, figuring out this new situation with sweet little Benjamin,andshe’s following her passion and honing her talent? She’s completely remarkable.”
Levi hid his smile behind another sip of his beer. So, shewassingle. That was… interesting.
He wasn’t looking for a romance or anything, not with his life in flux the way that it was. But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy a flirtation with a pretty woman who happened to have a voice that made his heart race. It was possible to talk music without it meaning anything more.
At least that was what he told himself as he tipped back the last swallow of his beer and slid out of his booth. He just wanted to meet her, and there was nothing strange about that, even if itwasvery much out of his comfort zone. But then again, in Nashville, he would have known somebody who knew somebody who knew any singer at any open mic, no matter how amateur the performer.
Yeah. That was why he was nervous. It had nothing to do with her bright green eyes.
He waited until the open mic portion of the evening was over, as he didn’t want to be rude to the other performers, many of whom were quite talented. Luckily, June didn’t leave right away, instead stopping to have a drink with her friends. He waited until she stepped away from the crowd and then caught up with June near the bar, where she was waving down the bartender, who nodded and gestured he would be with her in a minute.
“Excuse me,” Levi said, then winced at how awkward it sounded, especially when June looked behind her as though she thought he was saying she was in the way, or maybe like she suspected he was talking to someone else.
“No, I—” he blustered. Wow. Apparently the ‘country star’ status wasentirelyto thank for any success he’d ever enjoyed talking to women. He cleared his throat and tried again. “June, right? I just wanted to say that your performance was phenomenal.”
She grinned broadly at him. She was, he found, even prettier when she smiled.
“Wow,” she said, pushing her hair back behind her ear. “Thank you. That’s… that’s so nice.”
“It’s really not flattery,” he said, feeling a little more comfortable as he kept talking to her. “You’re seriously impressive. You don’t often hear such good singing at a night that’s just for amateur performers having fun.” He paused,worried that he was making an assumption. “That is, unless you’re a professional?”
It was too dim in the room to see if she blushed, but she pressed a hand to her cheek as though hiding a flush.
“Oh my gosh, no,” she said. “But my goodness, I am really so pleased that you thought it was even a possibility.”
“Have you ever thought about it?” he asked curiously. “Doing something professional with music, I mean. Or even giving lessons?”
She laughed, ducking her head slightly. “No, not even that,” she said. “Are you an aspiring professional musician, then? Or a singing teacher?”
“I haven’t taught music, but I do love learning about it in all its forms. Singing, playing, anything, really. But you sounded amazing.”
He thought about the tired slump of her shoulders as she left the diner, and how she had been explaining to her son that she was headed out to do even more work. He didn’t want to make it seem like he had been spying on her though, so he didn’t let himself show any sign that he knew about her jobs when he kept talking.
“Getting some side gigs in music could definitely earn you some decent pocket change,” he suggested. Privately, he thought that it was too bad that this wasn’t Nashville. There, he could get June a good paying job in performing at one of the city’s countless bars or clubs with little more than a phone call.
