Page 50 of Sing Sweet Nightingale

Until there’s a reason for me to be concerned about Lottie’s presence causing problems in town, I’ll do as Ginger asks. If anyone can keep a secret, especially about a secret identity, it’s a shifter.

Chapter 15 – Lottie

I can’t believe I agreed to come to karaoke night. I’ll admit, dinner was a lot of fun. Dottie joined us and introduced her son, Jared, who looks the same age as her. I still don’t know what kind of magic she possesses to look so youthful.

It’s eight thirty when we walk through the front door of the local watering hole,Blue Moon. The bar is already half-filled with people. Some I’ve seen around town, and some I haven’t. Thankfully, karaoke doesn’t start till nine, and I don’t see Dottie yet, so I have enough time to have a few drinks and hide out in a corner where no one will notice me.

Ginger leads me to the bar along the back wall, passing by two billiards tables, a few dart boards, and cocktail tables. There are booths against the right wall and a small stage in the back corner where I assume karaoke takes place. No doubt, it's also where live music plays from time to time.

We perch on tall barstools where my feet dangle, and I rest them on the bar rail. The smooth wooden bar under my hands is clean and lacks the sticky, unpleasant texture most bar tops always seem to possess. Behind the counter, one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen mixes drinks without even looking, adding flourishes and bottle spins effortlessly. Her cobalt blue hair floats around her brown mocha skin in fluffywaves as she spins a bottle full of alcohol in her hand and pours a generous helping into the glass.

Ginger calls to the woman who waves with her free hand and finishes the drink she’s making before walking over to greet us.

“Evelyn, this is Lottie. Lottie, this is the best mixologist you’ll ever meet. Her drinks are to die for.”

“Well, I don’t know about all that, but I do like to play around with ingredients. It’s nice to meet you, Lottie. I’ve heard gossip around town about this mystery woman staying in Hunter’s cabin. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Extending her hand, I shake it quickly in greeting. Noticing her nails are painted the same cobalt blue as her hair.

“Nothing negative, I hope.”

“Not in the least.”

Evelyn’s smile is wide and genuine. Up close, her skin appears to shimmer in the low light as if she’s covered in body glitter, but like two days later, after you’ve tried to wash it off but a layer still remains. Her eyes are so bright, light blue, that I wonder if they’re contacts. Either way, the combination of hair color, skin tone, and eye color is striking.

For a petite woman, she carries herself like an Amazonian queen. Strong and confident, shoulders back and chin high. And not in the false way I used to do while walking onto a stage to perform when I just wanted to turn and run away.

Over the last few years, performing has become more of a mechanical action for me. Robotic, if you will. I’d plaster on the smile, do the dance moves, and sing the songs, rarely feeling the emotions I displayed while on stage or that were being portrayed in the music. I’d become so disconnected from it all. It was painful, loathing the thing I had loved so much. All I want is to enjoy music again. Being here in Snowberry has made falling back in love with music easier. To feel more than numb.

Right now, though, I’m not feeling the music, and if someone tries to force me to sing karaoke, I may have to fake a stomach bug and sneak out the back. Possibly explosive diarrhea if they don’t believe me.

“What can I get for you two lovely ladies tonight?”

“We would like two blue moons, please,” Ginger orders for us.

I have no idea what’s in a blue moon, and I don’t care as long as it contains alcohol.

“Coming right up.”

Evelyn grabs two shot glasses and a few bottles from the bar, free-pouring alcohol and other mixers without measuring, adding something blue to tint the clear liquid.

“Oh hey, looks who’s here,” Ginger nudges my elbow and points with her chin behind me.

I turn in my seat to see Hunter and Ryder sliding into a booth on the opposite side of the bar. They just arrived, and Ryder keeps his eyes trained on his brother, his back towards us. But Hunter’s gaze catches on mine as if he knew exactly where I was.

A breath catches in my throat as heat washes over me. My nipples pucker under my dress at the sudden, unexpected arousal. Since when could a glance turn me on?

The temperatures have been dropping day by day, but it isn’t the cooling air that causes goosebumps to pebble across my exposed skin. Ginger came over to pick me up before dinner and insisted I wear the one semi-casual cocktail dress I brought. The hem hits mid- to low thigh, making it a little more demure than the miniskirts I wore back in Cali. The material is silk chiffon in a soft robin’s egg blue. The natural waistline balances the lower neckline, creating a sexy but modest look.

We’re in a local small-town bar, not a high-end rooftop nightclub in Vegas. I don’t need flashy or glitzy here. Even in what I would consider a casual look, I can tell I’m still a bitoverdressed compared to the rest of the crowd. There are some women in dresses, but they’re relaxed and informal.

Under Hunter’s attentive gaze, the dress doesn’t make a difference; I feel naked. Like he can see through any fabric I could place over my body.

Hunter’s chest rises and falls in a deep breath I can see even from across the bar and the heat in his eyes intensifies. I swivel on my seat and look away before I do something stupid, like swoon so hard I fall off my seat and flat on my ass on the floor.

Yeah, let’s not do that. I’m supposed to be flying under the radar, not drawing attention to myself.

My drink, a blue moon, sits on the bar in front of me. It’s definitely blue, but it’s also smoking and . . . glowing? That can’t be right; I have to be seeing things. It’s just the colored lights over the bar making it appear to be bioluminescent. Right?

Lifting the glass, I stare at it in awe, trying to discern how the hell they managed to make it smoke and glow without adding anything else—not even a clump of dry ice.

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