The most he was hoping for was that his voice would drown out any of Marisol’s sour notes. He never expected her to lift the microphone to her lips with the confidence of a veteran, or to belt out the first line of the chorus in a sweet, clear soprano so pretty it made the hairs on his arms stand on end and a shiver dance up his spine. He was completely shocked, and instantly seduced by the smoky edge to her voice, and the emotion simmering in every word she sang. He turned to her with a smile, wanting her to know how blown away he was, but her eyes were closed as she launched into her solo.
She crooned about taking it slow with a longing that made him want to take it slow with her all night long, and ended the short verse with a soaring high note that had the regulars clapping and Bubba grinning ear to ear as he joined her in the chorus.
She was amazing. He should have known. He should have known that just because Marisoldidn’tdo something, it didn’t mean shecouldn’t. Hell, he was pretty sure the woman could do anything she set her mind to. She was a force of nature—beautiful, talented, funny, and so sexy he was never going to get enough of fucking her—and through some miraculous twist of fate, she was his.
He’d sung on this stage a hundred times and enjoyed every single performance, but he couldn’t say he’d ever been happier than when Marisol finally opened her eyes and turned to him, holding his gaze as they reached the bridge and seamlessly slid up a half step in perfect harmony. At that moment, he felt a tremor work over him from head to toe, a mini-earthquake that shifted the world as he knew it. He didn’t know exactly what it meant, only that he felt transformed, and that he didn’t want this to be the last time he sang with Marisol.
Singing was more than a hobby or a job for him. It was his passion, a piece of his heart and soul. Being able to share that with the woman he loved, to hear their voices blending so perfectly, becoming something better and more beautiful together than they were apart…
Hell, it was almost as good as making love. It was special, sacred, and he could tell everyone in the room felt it, too.
By the time he and Marisol neared the end of the song, the cheers and whistles were so loud they had to bring their microphones closer to their lips to be heard over the din. And when they reached the final note and held it, the Ticklish Iguana’s walls shook with the force of the applause.
It was mind-blowing. Bubba was used to a certain level of enthusiasm from the locals who had become his karaoke night fans, but this was something different. This was a group of people realizing they’ve discovered something special all at the same time. Bubba wouldn’t have believed this kind of response was possible, but until tonight, he’d never experienced this kind of chemistry first hand. He’d heard it on the radio now and then, and at a concert he’d gone to when he was younger where a husband and wife team had sung together, but he hadn’t imagined he’d ever meet someone who made him wonder why he’d ever wanted to sing alone.
And that person was Marisol, the woman who was swiftly becoming his world.
As he stood, catching his breath while the bartender called out for an encore over the continuing applause, Bubba fell even more in love with her than he’d been before. He reached for her, and she came to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tight, sending a wave of emotion rushing through his chest even before she whispered in his ear—
“Can we leave? I need to be alone with you.”
“Then let’s get out of here,” he whispered back, hugging her tight with one arm as he slid the microphone back into its stand.
He waved at the crowd, greeting the groans of disappointment with a smile and a promise to be back later, though he had no intention of taking the stage again tonight. He was taking Marisol back to his place where they could be alone, and if he had anything to say about it, they were going to stay tangled up in each other all night long, keeping the magic they made together all to themselves.
“Holy crap,” Mia said as they returned to the table. “What the hell was that?” She punched Bubba on the arm as Marisol circled around to grab her purse from the back of her chair. “That was unbelievable! I’ve never heard anything like that on the radio, you two, let alone at the Iguana!”
“Pretty fucking amazing, man,” Ugly Ross said, an intense look in his perpetually laid-back eyes. “That was like voodoo magic. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, even though I really had to pee. You two should take that shit on the road.”
Ugly Ross’s words pinged something in Bubba’s brain, but then Marisol’s hand was in his and he forgot about everything but getting her alone.
“We’re going to head out. We forgot we have some paperwork to finish up,” Bubba said, trying to drop a twenty on the table for his and Marisol’s drinks, only to have Sawyer knock his hand way.
“Don’t even try it,” Sawyer said. “This is our treat. Go take care of yourpaperwork.”
The way he said it—and the way Mia giggled in response—left no doubt everyone at the table knew Marisol and Bubba were off to take care of something a hell of a lot more fun than paperwork, but Bubba didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything except putting Marisol’s mind at ease so that they could enjoy another perfect night together.
As they headed toward the door, he spotted Cole by the bar, but he only lifted a hand as he passed by instead of stopping to chat. He would see plenty of Cole tomorrow, and his brother certainly understood the lure of a beautiful woman. Not sparing Cole another thought, Bubba hustled Marisol through the door, across the parking lot, and into the truck.
But as he started the engine and swung out of their spot, she turned to glance through the back glass, almost as if she expected someone to be following them.
“Are you sure everything is all right?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said, nodding numbly. “It’s fine.”
“Come on, Marisol, you’re obviously upset about something,” he said as he turned onto Main Street. “What’s bothering you, babe?”
“I don’t want to stay at the ranch,” she said, her anxiety evident in the way she perched tightly in the passenger seat, as if poised to make a break for freedom at the next stoplight. “Let’s go back to Austin. Let’s just grab our stuff, tell your mom goodbye, and crash at a hotel somewhere on the road home.”
Bubba frowned, dividing his attention between her worried face and the road. “Why? You and Mom were getting along great this morning.”
“I know, it’s not that,” she said. “I’m just…overwhelmed by all the things we need to get done before the tour starts. We should get back and start working through the list.”
“Okay,” he said slowly, still not buying her excuse, though he knew she was right about all the things they had to do. “We can leave tomorrow, as soon as we get back from the drive. But I can’t leave before then. John still isn’t up to helping Cole find the missing cattle.”
“Remember how we talked about telling people no,” Marisol said, her voice strained. “Well, I think now is the time to tell people no. We can make a few calls, find someone else to help Cole with the drive, and be out of here by—”
“What is this really about?” Bubba asked, pulling to the side of the road and shifting the truck into park, too distracted to keep driving. “Did Cole say something to you?”