Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville 4)

His voice annoyed her. “Nothing happens until I say it does, lover. But I know of a way you can earn a few points that might sway me.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Tuesday, October 10, 11:25 P.M.

When Jake arrived at Rudy’s, he was dog tired but had heard from Rick that Georgia had landed a slot onstage at the last minute. As much as he needed to work, to sleep, he couldn’t resist seeing her sing.

The bar was crowded and most hovered close to the stage where Georgia held the mic close to her mouth and sang Faith Hill’s “Breathe.” As her voice echoed through the room, energy moved through him, tightening around his heart like a fist. What the hell was it about her that got under his skin?

She leaned into the mic, closed her eyes, and her voice summoned sadness, loss, and frustration from the song. She could hit all the high and low notes with perfect pitch, but it was the emotion she so freely injected into each note that grabbed her audience and held them tight. Emotions he’d kept long locked in a very secure place burned in the center of his chest and coaxed feelings he’d not had since Boston.

“She’s so good,” KC said as he dried a tumbler with a bar towel. “Hard to take your eyes off her.”

Jake turned, surprised to be caught staring. “She’s great.” He reached for the half-full glass of ice water and took a long drink, astonished that his throat was so dry.

“I’m puzzled someone hasn’t snapped her up,” KC said, a teasing note woven around the words.

“She’s mean as a snake,” Jake said, setting down his glass harder than he anticipated. “Pretty to look at and nice to listen to, but don’t get too close. She’ll bite your head off.”

KC laughed as he carefully stacked the glasses next to a dozen others. “That’s what keeps it interesting, don’t you think? That’s what I loved about my late wife. So nice and kind to many, but she kept me on my toes. She never minced words when she was pissed at me.”

“How long were you married?” His gaze followed a drip of water down the side of the chilled glass.

“Twenty-five years.”

“That’s something.”

KC’s eyes dulled a fraction. “Sounds like a long time, but now it just seems like a blink.”

Jake had been engaged to Alice less than two months. They’d planned a spring wedding. That moment went by so fast there were days he wondered if it were real. “Life goes so fast. It’s over before you know it.”

“Yeah.” KC set the bar glass down as Georgia finished her song. “So you gonna nut up and ask her out?”

Jake carefully pushed his glass a few inches away. “Who?”

KC snorted a laugh. “Don’t bullshit me, son. You know who.”

Jake shrugged, deciding he’d rather play dumb than out his feelings for Georgia Morgan and suffer her wrath. “As soon as I get my tetanus shot.”

KC laughed. “Pussy.”

Jake grinned. The old man was right. Applause roaring in the room, Jake watched as Georgia seated her mic into the stand and turned toward the band. She paused to thank the other singer, who had stepped aside so she could sing a set, and the guitarist before climbing off the stage.

Several folks from the crowd rushed to Georgia as she exited the stage. She tossed back a lock of that red hair that she allowed to tumble free while she sang and smiled. At first glance, the smile looked electric, warm, and welcoming. But as he studied her face, he could see her jaw was set just a fraction and her shoulders stiff. Whatever emotions flowed so freely while she sang were now shut off, no different than twisting the spigot of a water faucet.

KC filled an iced glass with diet soda and lemon and handed it to Georgia as she approached the bar. Jake watched as long fingers with neatly short, unpolished nails raised the glass to her lips. As she drank, his gaze settled on the slim line of her pale neck.

She set the glass down on the bar. “That was fun. Thank Fancy again for letting me sit in on her band. I appreciate the time.”

KC raised a glass toward Fancy as she took center stage. She returned a smile, as if understanding the small favor she granted would earn more stage time at Rudy’s. “She was glad to do it. She likes you as much as the customers.”

Georgia traced her finger down the line of moisture on the side of her glass. “Is Carrie working tonight?”

KC frowned. “Called in sick.”

“Do you believe her?”

“Sounded like she had a cold.”

Shaking her head, she dug her phone out of her back pocket and dialed Carrie’s number. The woman answered on the second ring.

“Carrie,” she said. “It’s Georgia. I hear you have a cold.” She listened, nodding her head. “You sound rough. Head all stopped up?”

Jake listened, not interfering, but ready to act if Georgia asked.

She drummed her fingers on the bar. “I can bring you some soup? And I promise I won’t make it myself.”

Laughter crackled through the line. “Okay. See you soon? Great.”

Georgia ended the call. “Sounds legit.”

KC nodded. “Good. I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Thanks.”

“Everything all right?” Jake asked.

She faced him. “Sounds like it.”

“Let me know if it’s not,” he said. “I can pay him a visit. Send a car by their house.”

The offer touched her. “No thanks, but I’ll keep it in mind.” Shaking off the worry, she shifted the conversation. Nodding toward the stage, she asked, “So what did you think?”

Jake kept his gaze on her eyes, as if resisting the tug of instinct to follow the long line of her neck down to the very end of the V-neck. “The singing wasn’t half bad. You got pipes.”

“You. Got. Pipes.” An auburn brow arched. “I pour my soul into that song and all you can say is ‘you got pipes’?”

He liked the irritation humming in her voice. Liked the spark of challenge in her emerald gaze. “It was pretty good.”

“It was great,” she countered. “It was the best I’ve sung in a long time.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’ve been half-assing it until I showed up? I’m flattered, Georgia.”

KC barked out a laugh and moved down the bar as if he wanted to be free of the blast zone.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

A faint scent of perfume wafted around her. He’d not smelled the scent on her before. He liked it.

“Then what’re you saying, Georgia?”

She lifted her glass to her lips. “Let’s say everything clicked tonight.”

“Why’s that?” he asked.

She settled on the bar stool next to him, her posture a little less stiff. She was comfortable around him. She stifled a yawn and rolled her head from side to side much like her brother Rick did when he was tired. “So what did Marlowe say about the picture?”

Ah, they were back to the job. Always the safest thing to discuss. “He didn’t recognize the guy.”

Bracelets jangled as she ran her fingers through her hair. He saw the fatigue humming below the frustration. “I’ve been trying to track Amber down to ask, but Mrs. Reed says she’s out and not answering her cell.”

“You think this guy in Austin was the one sending the texts to Amber?”

“Could be.”

“Why is he attracted to this type of girl?”

A bead of sweat trickled down her temple and he was so damn tempted to brush it away, but thought better of it. “I stopped trying to figure out what makes these guys tick. I just lock them up.”

As she sipped her soda, she shifted and the spotlight dangling above the bar caught the coppery curls of her hair as well as the dark circles under her eyes. She stifled a yawn.

“When’s the last time you slept?” His voice sounded concerned.

“I had a good night’s sleep.”

“This week?”

“A couple of nights ago.” She raised her glass, smiling. “I’m good for a solid n

ight’s sleep at least once a week.”

“You’re the Energizer Bunny.”

“Something like that.”

Jake dug a ten-dollar bill from his pocket and tossed it on the bar. “I’m headed home. I need a few hours of sleep before I hit it hard in the morning.”

She rolled her head from side to side. “I’m doing the same if I can get up off this stool. I dread the drive across town.”

“I’m three blocks from here. You’re welcome to my spare room.”

A sly smile tipped the edges of her lips. “Nice try, Bishop.”

“I’m too tired to be smooth. I’m offering the bed in my spare room. I need sleep. You need sleep. My house is blocks from here, not fifteen miles away like your apartment.”

Eyes narrowing, she studied him as if she was waiting for the punch line. “So is this a new tactic for you?”

He leaned toward her a fraction. “If I wanted you in my bed, I’d just straight up ask. I don’t need a gimmick to get a woman in my bed.”

Her eyes warmed before they cooled. “I’ve heard.”