The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(21)

“Hey, Hannah.” She shot me a wink. Olivia had grown up in Queen’s Cove, although she was a year younger than me. She lived in Vancouver during the year, working on her PhD, and returned home every summer to help with her dad’s bar during the busy summer tourist season. “I haven’t seen you in ages. Are you going to sing?”

“Sing?” My eyes went wide, and I glanced between her and Wyatt with alarm. “Why would I sing?”

Olivia nodded at the corner of the bar, where a mic stand stood. “It’s karaoke night.”

I burst out laughing. “God, no. I can’t sing at all.” I shook my head. “No. No. I would never.”

Wyatt grinned across the table and I rolled my eyes at him. “How’s school?” I asked Olivia.

She tilted a shoulder. “It’s good. I submit my thesis next year.” Someone leaned against the bar, waiting to place their order. “I should go. Drop in again and say hey sometime.”

She left and I turned back to Wyatt, pointing at the champagne flutes. “What’s this for?”

“You had your first bad date, and we’re celebrating.” He lifted his glass and when I lifted mine, he clinked it.

“Champagne?” It sparkled on my tongue, and I made a pleased humming noise. “Didn’t think you were a champagne drinker.”

He shrugged. “You don’t like beer.”

I winced. “Was it that noticeable?”

“You gagged every time you took a sip.”

I shook with laughter. “I’ll do better next time.”

“Don’t bother. Don’t drink something you don’t like. Order the good stuff next time, Hannah. Order what you like. You deserve it.”

He was watching at me in an intense way that made my stomach flutter. “There isn’t going to be a next time. Look how awkward I was with Carter. I’m terrible at conversation.”

“You weren’t terrible talking with Olivia.”

“That’s different. I’m not attracted to Olivia.”

“And you are attracted to Carter?” His voice was wry.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course not.”

He leaned back in his chair, arm resting on the table, easy gaze on me. “Sometimes people don’t click, but that doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.” He shrugged and spread out, taking up all the room. “Just move on.”

“Just move on. Like that.”

“Mhm. You’re going to the gallery with Holden soon?”

I nodded and took another sip. “Saturday. I hope I’m not awkward around him.”

“It’s impossible for you to out-awkward Holden.”

We grinned at each other.

“Hello, Queen’s Cove!” Joe, the bar owner and Olivia’s dad, crowed into the mic in the corner and cheers rose up around the bar. “Are you ready for some karaoke?” More cheers.

I glanced at Wyatt with excitement, and he grinned back at me.

“First up is our favorite photographer and blogger, Don, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

I remembered a couple days ago when Don shoved the can of beans into my hands, feeling sorry for me, and when Wyatt’s gaze met mine, I knew he was thinking of the same thing. We both burst into laughter.

“He felt so sorry for me,” I whispered as Don warbled through the song.

Wyatt shrugged. “It’s okay to make an ass of yourself once in a while. Are you still embarrassed about it?”

I took another sip of champagne. The sharp stab of embarrassment had turned into more of an annoying flicker. “A little.” I snorted again. “It’s more funny now.” I glanced at my almost-empty glass. It must have been the champagne, making me care less.

Wyatt slid his full glass of champagne over to me and took another sip of his beer.

We watched Don finish his karaoke song and cheered for him and all the others who sang. The energy in the bar was so fun, supportive, and silly. Everyone knew each other. It didn’t matter if people were bad at singing, everyone got big cheers and applause.

Community, I realized, with a sweet, happy hum in my heart. This was my community. I loved this little town.

“What would you sing up there?” Wyatt asked as Olivia brought another glass of champagne for me, and a beer for Wyatt.

“Oh, another? I’m going to get silly.”

“So get silly.” Wyatt’s gaze flicked over me. “I’ll walk you home.” He glanced over to the empty corner with the dart boards.

I snorted. The champagne had loosened the laughs from me. “I can’t do worse than Carter.” I pictured the beer running down his chin and cringed.

“You’re doing great, bookworm.” Our eyes met and his gaze warmed me all the way to my toes in my sneakers. “Just great.” He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Tell me more about why you want to be a hot girl.”

“Who wouldn’t want to be?”

He raised an eyebrow, pinning me with his gaze.

I squirmed. My skin prickled like he could see through my clothes. “I’m never going to meet someone hiding in my bookstore.”

He considered this but didn’t say anything.

“I’m turning thirty in a few months.” I played with the stem of my glass, spinning it in a slow circle on the table. “There are a lot of things I haven’t done yet.” I shrugged, staring at the bubbles in the glass, rising to the surface. “By the time she was thirty, my mom had done so much. She had traveled all over the world, gotten married, had me, started her own business.”