“Hey, easy there,” said a deep voice. A hand cupped her elbow, steadying her. “You okay?”
No. “I need to get out of here.”
The man released her but stayed near. She couldn’t see anything but his broad outline in the dark. “But you won. There’s money—”
“I need my shoe.” She could hear the hysterical note in her voice but couldn’t help it. The bar felt too small, the memories too smothering. “Where’s my shoe?”
“Hey, it’s all right. Head on outside for some air,” he said, his voice strong but soothing, like a cop trying to talk someone off a ledge. “I’ll find your shoe and bring it out to you, all right?”
The offer was a godsend. “Thank you.”
She zeroed in on the door and hobbled toward the light, ignoring the repeated calls from the stage for her to come up and collect her prize. She stumbled outside and took a deep breath. She pressed her back to the side of the building and tilted her head against it, trying to regain control of her body.
A minute or two later, footsteps sounded to her left, and the calming voice was back. “There you go. You’re okay. Just catch your breath,” the man said. “I have
your shoe, and I told them you’re not coming back in. You can take as long as you need.”
Taryn rolled her lips inward and gave a little nod, but didn’t open her eyes. “Thank you.”
The man didn’t say anything else, giving her space, but she could sense his presence, smell the mountain spring of his laundry detergent and the faint tang of beer. She probably looked like a lunatic. She should’ve stuck with boring.
Finally, after a few more breaths, she opened her eyes and turned her head to thank the stranger, but the words got lodged in her throat like dry bread. The guy was broad-shouldered and as solid as the wall she was leaning against, his muscular body not at all concealed by the forest-green T-shirt he was wearing. Her gaze flicked upward, finding dirty-blond hair pulled back into a man bun and light eyes that looked gray in the moonlight. Some weird zip of familiarity went through her, like déjà vu, and a sick awareness twisted her stomach. She knew those eyes.
But that wasn’t possible. Those eyes belonged to a dead teenager, a killer. Her mind was playing tricks.
The guy handed her the high-heeled shoe she’d lost and a crisp fifty-dollar bill. “Your prize winnings.”
Taryn took the items with a shaking hand. Her brain was having some sort of attack. Singing that particular song had triggered something, opened a door. Memories were trying to surface and were blending with reality. Memories she had no interest in handling right at this moment. She forced herself to focus on the handsome stranger, pick out the features that did not look like Joseph Miller. The strong jaw covered in scruff, the full bottom lip, the faint scar through one eyebrow, the slightly crooked nose. Plus, Joseph hadn’t been sexy. This guy had sex appeal in spades.
She swallowed past the panic. Not him. Not him. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”
He frowned. “What are you apologizing for?”
She blinked, her thoughts scattering like dropped pennies. “I don’t know.”
“Nothing to apologize for. Stage fright happens to a lot of people,” he said, his voice as smooth as river rock. “Do you want me to grab you some water? Or a shot of something stronger?”
She managed a smile at that. “Tempting. But I have to drive. I’ll be all right. I have a bottle of water in my car. I just… It’s been a long time since I’ve been onstage.”
He leaned a shoulder against the wall, looking like an After ad for the newest gym equipment. “How long?”
She smirked and slipped her shoe back on. “Um, never.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and rich, and crossed his arms, making his shirt even tighter and more distracting. “That’ll do it. I used to compete in…swim competitions, and I’d get sick right before every time.”
A swimmer. Well, that explained the ridiculous body. Taryn dragged her attention down to the money he’d handed her. “I can’t believe I just got paid for that. I literally ran offstage. The other competitors must’ve really sucked.”
His lips lifted at one corner. “You’re kidding, right?”
“What?”
He pushed off the wall. “I mean, I’m not going to lie and say the competition was stiff, but you have to know you can sing your face off, right? You earned that fair and square.”
She shook her head and pushed her out-of-control hair away from her face. The humidity was making the curls grow bigger by the minute. “This is nuts. I was supposed to be watching a James Spader movie.”
He tipped his head to the side. “Huh?”
She waved a hand. “Nothing. It’s just been a weird night.” Another off-the-reservation idea hit her. Right now, she was Jamez with a z, not Taryn who had to get home and tally study results. “Hey, I didn’t catch your name.”