Free Live for You by Marquita Valentine Page B

“You’re right.”
    “ Of course I am.” He
unwraps the slice of cake and takes a bite, his eyes temporarily
closing with delight. “So good.” When they open, amusement dances
in them and the pent up tension leaves my body. “Want
some?”
    “ I’ll let you have that.”
I dig into the homemade chicken salad, slathering globs of it onto
a cracker.
    “ Knew I liked you,” he
says around another bite.
    “ Ha! You just like getting
your way.”
    He shrugs, grinning big.
“That, too.”
    “ Did you have any classes
this morning?” I ask, wiping my mouth.
    “ Yeah. The bus picked up
Kelly and I hopped online.” He grabs the container of orange
slices, opens it and sets it between us. “I prefer college this
way. I’m less likely to get kicked out for falling
asleep.”
    Bless his heart, I think,
falling back on the familiar saying while the icy fortress I’d
built around my heart melts even more. “I’d rather be on campus,
with the falling leaves and professors wearing tweed coats. I can’t
just picture it: Walking to class with my soy latte in one hand and
a book on existential living the twenty-first century in the
other.”
    The orange slice he’s about
to pop in his mouth drops to the blanket beneath us. “Are you
serious?”
    Smashing my lips together,
I hold back the laughter bubbling in my throat. I extend my arm,
hand coming up and almost pressing two fingers together. “Just a
little.”
    He picks up another orange
wedge and shakes it at me. “Watch yourself, Miss Givens. Teasing me
won’t get you anywhere.” But the heated look in his blue eyes says
otherwise.
    I smile and pop a grape in
my mouth.
    *** *** ***
    Cole
    I pace nervously as I wait
for Rae to show up. It’s already ten past eleven and I’m thinking
that she’s forgotten about our date. Or maybe I’d said something
wrong that pissed her off. Or maybe I should stop thinking like a
damn teenager.
    Raking a hand through my
hair, I roll my eyes.
    I hear something crashing
through the woods. No way it’s a hunter, because the ruckus would
scare away every animal in a mile radius. A flash of blond hair
makes me smile.
    She comes into the
clearing, guitar in one hand and that picnic basket I’ve grown to
love in the other. Before she can ask for help, I’m jogging to her,
taking the basket.
    “ Mood music?”
    “ Converting music. I
borrowed the guitar from Nana. She’s the one who taught me how to
play,” she says, then holds it like someone who’s been playing for
years and strums a few chords. “Today, I’m gonna change your mind
about country music.”
    I scratch my chin, the
stubble beneath my fingers prickly. “That so?” It’s not going to
happen. My hatred of country music has nothing to do with the beat
and everything to do with the man behind most acts. Hell, for all I
know he could be behind Rae’s alter ego’s act.
    “ Yep.” She smiles. This
girl is so damn beautiful that it hurts. I can only imagine what
she looks like on stage, performing for the crowd.
    While I set up our picnic,
she begins to play. The first song she sings is catchy, with absurd
lyrics about horses drinking beer or something like that. I sit
down. She stays where she is, playing to me, like I’m a crowd of
thousands instead of one.
    “ Convinced
yet?”
    I lean back on my elbows,
the brim of my hat shading my eyes from the sun. “Nah.”
    She sticks out her bottom
lip, pouting. “Guess I’ll have to up my game.”
    “ Go for it, but you ain’t
gonna convince me.”
    Her brow arches. “Is that a
challenge, Mr. Morgan?”
    “ It’s a fact.” My lips
twitch as her eyes narrow. She’s determined now and I’m too damn
entertained, not to mentioned impressed by her, to not let her try.
“But I am a sucker for blondes in tight jeans.”
    She rolls her eyes and lets
out a huff. “Men,” she mutters, then starts up another
song.
    “ Cheating.” I interrupt
her in the middle of the chorus. “That’s not country. That’s