“I was thinking of something a bit more mellow.”
“You know, Rory, I’m not actually looking for mellow.”
His eyes twinkled with devilry. “Then what are you looking for?”
She let go of a long sigh. “I’m looking for a man who’s sensitive, who listens to my music, who knows how to French kiss, and who doesn’t smell like marijuana.” She stopped as she studied his incredibly handsome face. “And I’m not willing to settle for three out of four.”
His smile deepened. “And just how do you know that I can French kiss?”
He certainly had her there. She stared into his eyes for a long, uncomfortable moment, imagining how his mouth would taste, how his stubble would feel against her cheek, how he’d really smell. No. She wasn’t brave enough, or insane enough, for a man like Rory Ahearn. So she looked down at her drink and fervently hoped he would move down the bar and talk to someone else.
“I’ve got a break coming up in five minutes. When Kent’s done boring us to tears.” He delivered this line and then moved down the bar.
Thank God.
A moment later, Juni Petersen, who’d been talking to the sound engineer, crossed the room and snagged a seat next to Arwen.
“Drinking alone?” she asked.
“Yeah. I guess it’s pathetic, huh? The truth is, Courtney is at the hospital visiting a sick friend, and everyone else is pregnant and throwing up.”
“Well, you know what they say…”
“No. What do they say?” Her voice sounded a little bitchy even to her own ears.
Juni chuckled. “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.”
Arwen almost spewed her drink. When she caught her breath, she said, “Since when do you quote the Old Testament? Now that I think of it, I’ve never heard you quote the New Testament either.”
Juni shrugged. “Yeah, but I hear a lot of folk music. You’d be amazed how many people cover that song on open mic night.”
“Oh yeah, I guess. And you decided to quote it because…?”
“Because you’re at a crossroads. I can see it in your aura. You know what you want, but you’re afraid to go after it.”
“And you see that in my aura?”
Juni lifted her shoulders, and her hand-knit shawl fell down around her arms. “I’ve known you for a long time. You come in here every week and sing your heart out. Your songs move everyone, Arwen, unlike most of the other performers. I hear you talk about making a tape and sending it to Nashville. I hear you talk about trying to make it as a songwriter. I see you looking at Rory like you want to devour him. And you never do anything about any of it. I don’t need to look at your aura. Although I see plenty of murky brown in it, which is a sign of someone who’s afraid to let go or to truly share herself with others.”
“You know, Juni, you can pontificate all you want, but it’s not so easy to let go of a well-paying job. I mean, writing songs is probably not going to pay the bills.”
“Or maybe it will. You didn’t learn to walk without falling down. In fact, everything valuable in life usually comes with failure. Just saying.” Juni hopped down from the stool and spoke directly to Rory. “It’s time for your break. I’ll take over the bar.”
Rory nodded and shot Arwen a look that made her panties ignite. Then he turned his back on her and headed across the bar toward the ready room. She studied his sexy-as-sin backside as Juni’s words percolated through her brain. Was she woman enough to follow him?
Damn straight she was.
She snatched up her glass and gulped down the rest of her margarita. Then, filled with Dutch courage, she followed Rory and found him out in the alley leaning on the brick wall under the lone streetlamp. Shadows hid his deep-set eyes, but Arwen was more interested in looking at his wide shoulders and narrow hips and the beautiful tattoos winding up his arms.
She walked right up to him, close enough to catch his aroma, one-part leather, one-part smoke.
Good thing she didn’t have to ask for what she wanted. She might have chickened out, but Rory made the first move, closing the gap between them, cupping the back of her head, and drawing her into the most erotic kiss she had ever experienced in her life.
Damn. The bad boy really did know how to French kiss.
Chapter Eight
Courtney was so busy the rest of the week visiting Sid before and after work that she managed to avoid running into her new next-door neighbor. She also didn’t have any chance to miss the cat.
Which was pathetic. It suggested that she was unlovable or something.
Not only had Aramis run away, but Sid had rebuffed her every effort to get him to move in during his convalescence. He’d sailed through the bypass surgery and would be released from the hospital on Sunday. But he insisted on going home, and arguing with him only raised his blood pressure.
So she’d given up on that idea. She planned to arrange for a visiting nurse to drop by his apartment a couple of times a day, and she’d make sure he got a good dinner every night, compliments of Antonin.
Even if Sid didn’t love her enough to move in with her, Courtney still cared about him. She would not let him retreat from the world of the living. Just as soon as Sid was feeling better, Courtney intended to ask Dusty McNeil to hire him as a part-time fishing guide at Shenandoah River Guides.
But before she could accomplish all that, she needed to get through today—another Saturday in June, the day of Laurie and Andrew’s wedding. Courtney would be shorthanded today because Amy was a bridesmaid in her brother’s wedding. Willow would be a guest at the wedding too, since David was a member of the family.
Willow and Amy would see to the details at the church, leaving
