"Poor baby." I patted his chest. "Then maybe you shouldn't have plunked down so much cash for a screaming-ass-yellow ZR1."
"It's gold, not yellow," he corrected. "Vikings gold, to be accurate. And the interior is Vikings purple. But I didn't go for the personalized license plate . . . so there is that."
"My bad. That totally renders you-and the car-incognito."
Jensen hooked his arm around my waist, hauled me close and pressed a quick kiss on my lips.
Or maybe he'd meant it to be a quick kiss. But neither of us moved away.
His hand slid down to cup my ass and he brushed his lips across my ear. "You look beautiful tonight. Have I said that?"
"Yes." I nuzzled my cheek against his. "But I'll never get tired of hearing it."
"You're beautiful every night, Rowan." Jensen's lips found mine. There was nothing sweet and fast about this kiss. Nothing tentative about it, but he took his time exploring my mouth and my reactions. His fingers stroked the curve of my ass with such deliberate sensuality that my knees went a little weak. When I didn't bat his hand away, the next thing I knew, both hands were caressing my butt. Squeezing and teasing and rocking my pelvis against his so I could feel how I affected him.
The heat generated between us sent my nerve endings into overdrive. I tingled from head to toe. My heart raced and I'd never experienced such a sense of urgency. The only thing that would calm the growing wildness inside me was more of his confident caresses, more mouth to skin contact, more . . . everything.
The stairs creaked, and voices echoed up to us.
Keeping me sheltered by his body, he spun me around and walked us backward. His eyes held such intensity my belly swooped. "Can we get out of here as soon as I'm done with this?"
"Please."
He parked me at a table and dropped a firm kiss on my lips.
Ash and Nolan joined us. They trash-talked him until Jensen walked up to the DJ station.
Simone's regular customers sat on the far side of the bar.
Jensen returned after he made his song selection.
Nolan handed him a bottle of water. "Thought you might need to clear the frog out of your throat, Kermit."
"I'd skip trying out for open mike night at the comedy club, Nolan."
Ash snickered.
Jensen held out his hand. "Gimme my damn keys."
Simone had the microphone and she said, "JB, come on up. You're the next contestant on Name That Karaoke Tune. And please, no help from the audience."
My stomach knotted when Jensen lumbered up to the front like his feet were encased in concrete. He fussed with the microphone, keeping his head down. I was tempted to race up, snatch the mike from his hands and tell him he had nothing to prove to his cousins.
As Jensen adjusted his ball cap and waited for the DJ to cue the music, I'd regretted every comment I'd cracked about his lack of experience in the arts.
There were four beats and the song kicked in.
At first, I thought the DJ had forgotten to mute the vocals because the sound coming out of the speakers . . . sounded exactly like the recording.
Exactly.
My jaw dropped when I realized that was Jensen belting out "Rich Girl" like he was auditioning for Hall and Oates.
Holy shit.
Jensen Lund could sing. Really sing. Like a musical-theater-major kind of sing.
Totally unexpected song choice, but he had the range for it.
Immediately I jumped to my feet and started whistling and clapping.
Behind me, Nolan said my name, but I couldn't tear my eyes off Jensen for a second to turn around to see what he wanted.
"Red Hot!"
I spun around. "What?"
"We know you're a cheerleader. Park it. And no herkeys, for god's sake. I can't see my cousin making an idiot out of me."
"Sorry." I scooted my chair off to the side.
In my peripheral vision, I saw Nolan peeling bills from his money clip and muttering as he stacked them on the table in front of a smug-looking Ash. I raised an eyebrow at him.
Ash grinned. "Nolan bet me a lot of money that Jensen wouldn't take the karaoke challenge, but he did. Then he bet me a lot more money Jens would suck at it. Obviously, Jens doesn't suck."
"Did you know he could sing like this?"
"No comment."
"Come on. You knew. How?"
"In high school Dallas was having issues with some mean girls calling her a ‘rich bitch.' Jens got wind of it through Annika and he set up a karaoke machine at my parents' house. He took Dallas to task, told her to own it and be proud of all our family had done. Then he challenged her to sing ‘Rich Girl' at the school talent show. So I heard him sing it a few times as he helped her get ready for it."