The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(88)

Wyatt’s eyebrows shot way up with delight. “Yeah?”

I shook my head and took a deep breath. Nerves rattled my ribcage and my hands shook. “Yeah. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, but I’m going to go for it.”

He winked. “Good girl. I’ll be here.”

As I passed, he pulled me down and gave me a hard kiss in front of everyone. The table of women beside us lost their minds and I flushed with pride. Wyatt was mine, even if it was just for now.

People clapped and beamed at me as I walked up to the microphone.

My heart thudded in my chest. Joe handed me the mic and I stepped into place. People could probably see the sequins flickering with light as my chest pounded against them. I swallowed and my throat went tight. Everyone watched. My gaze snagged on Avery, leaning against the bar. She must have just slipped in. She gave me a wide-eyed, beaming grin and thumbs up and I nodded and sucked in another deep breath.

Holy shit. Everyone was staring at me.

Also, I was a terrible singer. Like, awful.

Holy shit.

“Umm…” I said into the mic. “So I’m going to sing a Spice Girls song. Some of you may know that I like them.”

The bar burst into laughter and I frowned.

“We are aware,” someone said in a dry tone.

Oh. They weren’t laughing at me. I played Spice Girls all the time in the store. Of course they knew I liked them. Right. I let out a light laugh.

At our table, Wyatt watching with an amused, proud expression.

I wanted to be worthy of his pride, and I also wanted to be worthy of my own pride. My mom flickered into my head, so full of life and joy and passion.

Okay. The smile creeped up my face, into my eyes as they crinkled and I nodded at the bar. At all these people who knew me, and some new faces, like the group of women.

“Yeah, Hannah! Wooooo!” One of them—Shima, I think—screamed and a bunch of new cheers erupted.

“Okay, so, here goes.” My voice was shaky.

The opening bars of the song played and a rush of fuck it energy whistled through my blood. I had heard this song a thousand times and like every other time, it filled me with excitement, energy, and of course, girl power.

I began singing with the music, not even needing to look at the screen with the lyrics. I knew this song by heart. The lyrics flowed out of my mouth. My head bobbed with the beat. I took a few steps. I made eye contact with people and they cheered me on. I was worthy of wearing this dress up here. I was good enough. I was fun enough. I had a terrible singing voice but people cheered and clapped. Olivia turned up the volume so loud, the roof was going to blow off the place. When I held the mic out for one of the later choruses, half the bar sang with me. My face hurt from smiling.

I was doing it. I was that hot girl, confident and carefree.

My gaze returned to Wyatt, leaning forward, chin on his palm, watching me with a look of pure adoration. My heart somersaulted.

I finished the song and the place exploded. I winced from the noise but couldn’t stop laughing and grinning. My heart raced in my chest, my hands shook, and I waited for the embarrassment to set in, but it never showed up.

If my mom were here, she’d be on her feet, laughing with me.

The group of women beside our table screamed their heads off.

Joe took the mic from me and I stepped off the stage, high-fiving people along the way back to my chair.

“Give it up for one of our own, Hannah!”

Another round of cheers rose up.

“Alright, folks, Hannah was the last singer for tonight.” His voice boomed across the sound system and everyone fell quiet. I reached the table and Wyatt pulled me into his arms.

“You did it, bookworm,” he whispered into my hair.

I nodded and grinned into his chest. He didn’t let go, so I shifted to see the stage while leaning against his warmth.

“We judge the karaoke championship against a rigorous set of criteria,” Joe continued, “including song choice, dance moves, and overall stage presence.” He paused for effect. “The winner of the Queen’s Cove karaoke sing-off is… Hannah Nielsen!”

Another explosion of cheers. Over at the bar, Olivia rang the loud bell and the clanging only revved everyone up more. Wyatt squeezed me and laughed with me before he pressed a hard kiss to my mouth.

“Go on.” He tilted his chin to the stage.

“Yeah, Hannah!” The women beside us chanting, clapping and beaming. “You killed it!”

I walked back up to the stage and accepted the terrifying toilet paper doll from Joe before turning to the crowd and holding it up high in the air to show them.

“You know what to do, Hannah,” he said into the mic and everyone laughed. “Toilet Paper Princess Patty awaits.”

I made a kissy face and held the doll up to my mouth as Olivia snapped an instant photo. A flash went off the second the doll’s plastic mouth touched mine and I blinked.

“She’s yours for the year. Don’t lose her, please.”

I shook my head at him. “I won’t. I’ll keep her in the bookstore behind a case.”

Back at my table, I slipped into my seat as Miri appeared.

“Hannah! Look at you.” She wrapped me in a tight hug. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

My throat choked with happiness. I couldn’t stop smiling. Wyatt watched me with an amused grin.