Out of Bounds (13 page)

Chloe passed their table on her way to sign up. “Posy, you’re not signing up? They give out a trophy, you know.”

Wes whipped his head around to watch her walk away and then turned back to Posy. “Are you going to just take that?”

She recognized the look in his eye because it was exactly how she felt inside. She wanted to get up and sing and win and then shove the trophy in Chloe’s face. Which was exactly how Chloe knew she’d react and was exactly why she needed to shake her head and say, “I don’t really feel like singing.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

P
OSY
WAS
PROUD
OF
her self-control. She’d ignored Chloe’s taunt and stuck to her guns. She’d watch the contest and that would be that. She picked up her beer and took a sip.

“Do you suck?”

She choked on the mouthful of beer. “What?”

“At singing. Do you suck? Because then I get it. Chloe looked pretty confident and you don’t want to look like an idiot. So maybe singing’s not your thing.”

“No,” Posy said. “I don’t suck.”

“Then let’s do this.”

He looked so excited, with his eyes lit up and a grin on his lips. She nodded despite what she really thought about it. He told Julia to sign them up to sing together and that was when the regrets settled in. It was fine for him to get up there and care too much and compete. He was an athlete. He’d played professional basketball. People expected guys like him to be serious. He didn’t know what it felt like to be a girl who grew too tall and wanted everything too much. She’d never fit in here. Chloe was just waiting to see her make a fool of herself again.

She excused herself and went to the ladies’ room. When she was washing her hands, Julia came in. The other woman leaned against the wall and then pulled away with a face.

“Ugh. That was sticky,” she said. “I hope I didn’t just catch a disease.” She flipped the hot-water tap on and scrubbed her hands. “We’re all signed up.”

“Good,” Posy said.

“Your friend stopped by the table again. She said she won last week.”

“She’s not exactly my friend.”

“I figured that out,” Julia said. “I’m actually glad you know it, too. I was worried. You know, Wes is never like that.... Well...almost never.”

“Like what?”

“You saw him. When she introduced herself and he was rude to her.” Julia rinsed her hands and then pulled a paper towel from the dispenser. “Wes is, well, he’s kind of like a sheepdog. Which I mean in the very nicest sense. He’s loyal and friendly and pretty much gives anyone a chance. He likes the pack and being part of it. But if he thinks you’re screwing with someone he cares about...he changes completely. I still remember the first time I saw him do it. I thought he was just this big, dumb, funny kid and then somebody tried to mess with Deacon and Wes got incensed. His face looked
exactly
like it did when he was dissing Chloe.”

She wasn’t sure what Julia was implying. “Do you think Chloe said something about Deacon? He mentioned he overheard her today.”

Julia tossed her paper towel in the garbage. “Maybe. But if you want my real guess, I think she said something about you.”

Posy’s cheeks got warm. Julia studied her quietly, and then said, “He’s a very good guy, Posy. But he’s never dated anyone who could give him a run for his money. They’d have cheered for him today, but not gotten up there to swing the bat.”

Posy nodded, feeling stupid, but completely unable to answer Julia. What could she say?

When Julia left, Posy turned the cold water on and wet her fingers. She patted her cheeks and her forehead. Julia didn’t need to tell her that Wes was a good guy. She knew it. That was the problem. He was such a good guy, he was going to stay here in Kirkland, run his brother’s charity like a rock star and have the life he deserved. Posy didn’t fit here and she never had. It wasn’t fair for her to get in between Wes and the life he obviously wanted.

* * *

“J
ULIA
FOLLOWED
P
OSY
into the bathroom,” Deacon said. “Are you nervous?”

Wes flagged down a waitress and ordered another pitcher of beer. Far from feeling nervous, he was having the best day he’d had in a long time.

“You want another soda?” he asked Deacon, but his brother shook his head. Deacon didn’t drink. He’d been ten when their dad died and had lived through years of watching him destroy their family because of his addictions. Deacon said he didn’t want to take a chance. Wes had been a baby when their father died, so he didn’t have the same worries about it that his brother did.

“Did you see her today?” he asked Deacon. “Shawn almost dropped dead when her ball beat his.”

“It was pretty sweet. Were you worried?” Deacon asked. “Before she gave you the check?”

“No.” He’d been so relieved when she’d handed it over the night before. It was probably part of the reason why his day had gone so well. “Maybe a little. But not about her, just her mom. Did you see the way Chloe baited her? Posy’s not going to take that lying down.”

Deacon rolled his eyes. “I swear, you and Julia are going to kill me. There’s an excellent steak house in Kirkland. Right on the lake. We could be there right now instead of inside this jumped-up pizza place listening to that.”

That
was the bachelorette party. They’d been drinking from shot glasses for about an hour longer than necessary, judging by the fact that not many of them could read the lyrics from the prompter, let alone sing along to “Landslide.” Stevie Nicks would kick all their asses if she heard what they were doing to the song.

Julia planted a noisy kiss on the top of Deacon’s head, then slid into her seat next to him, leaning forward for a real kiss. Wes shook his head. They’d never gotten to the stage of their relationship where they weren’t completely into each other. Maybe another ten years.

Maybe never.

If they were lucky.

He wanted what Deacon had with Julia. The two of them worked together, loved each other and shared an agenda that satisfied them both individually and together. Julia quit her job as a guidance counselor about two years after they got married, but she’d been unhappy with the paperwork and regulations that had been slowly taking over her workday. She went to work for Deacon, setting up the tutoring and family-support branches of the Fallon center in Milton and then packaging the plans as modules that could be introduced in the newer Fallon centers. She still did one-on-one tutoring, as well.

She said working at the Fallon centers was her dream job. She complained about the boss every once in a while, but since Deacon was an enthusiastic supporter of every one of her ideas, it was clear she was joking.

She was the one who’d suggested they take in their first foster child. Deacon had hesitated, because he and Wes had seen how complicated foster care could be for kids and the foster families. He wanted to be sure they’d make a positive difference. Julia finally convinced him there wouldn’t be guarantees, except the one that any kid they took in was guaranteed to get a fair shot with them.

Wes was pretty sure they were the happiest people he knew. Except on karaoke night. He and Julia sometimes went by themselves, but when Deacon was dragged along, he suffered.

Wes loved it.

“What’s the strategy?” he asked Julia.

She pushed Deacon away and said, “It’s a single-elimination thing—audience response is the measure.”

“Audience response is good. You can never tell if the judges at these things will be impartial.”

“You did not just analyze the impartiality of the judging in karaoke contests,” Deacon muttered. “Someone shoot me.”

Posy came back and stood uncertainly near her chair. He pushed it out to encourage her to sit down. She looked great. Her skirt hugged her curves and even though it wasn’t as short as the shorts she’d worn that afternoon, her legs were fantastic.

He always had fun doing karaoke with Julia, but tonight, knowing he was going to sing with Posy, he wanted to crush it.

“There’s only one round, so we can’t play this safe. First song, best shot. Go for the jugular, right?”

Posy looked from him to Julia. “What are you talking about?”

“How we’re going to win,” Julia said. “Or at least make sure we beat that Chloe person.”

Posy liked the way Julia called her that. She thought she might call her that from now on, herself. She was definitely using it when she talked to her mom next time. If Trish ever decided to give up the silent-retreat farce, that was.

“I’m doing ‘Holiday,’” Julia said. Wes gave her a high five. His sister-in-law was an excellent mimic. She had stage presence, too. He’d seen her channel Madonna before and it was uncanny.

“Are we doing a duet?” Wes asked.

“Um, okay,” Posy said. “I didn’t know you’d be so into this.”

“I lived in the basketball dorm in college. We had a curfew on game nights and any night when we were traveling the next day. You can only play so much poker.”

“So you sang karaoke?”

“‘Rock Band’ on Wii. Same principle, except there’s a live audience when you do it in a bar.”

“Wes is all about the audience,” Deacon said. “Maybe I can get a taxi. I feel like I’m getting a headache.”

Julia put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him. “Next time don’t bet against me, sweetie. You’d think after ten years together—two years married—you’d know this.”

“You’d think.”

The first act got up. It was a trio of girls who looked as if they might have been in high school or maybe college. They clearly had not taken the audience-response factor into account because they sang a Justin Bieber song and half the guys in the audience booed them on principle. Posy clapped enthusiastically and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I like his music. I can’t help it.”

“We’re not singing Bieber,” he said.

Deacon snapped his fingers. “You know what, that’s an excellent idea. Posy, I want you to make Wes sing Bieber.” He patted the pocket of the leather jacket he’d draped over the back of his chair. “How’s the light in here for videos?”

“No Bieber,” Posy agreed.

The second singer, an older guy with a cowboy hat, sang “My Way” and, while he wasn’t awful, he was no Frank Sinatra. The audience didn’t seem to care for his rendition of the song.

“That’s why you should never sing Frank,” Julia said. “Everyone who isn’t bored by him is a rabid fan.”

They sat through two more singers who had some success and then it was Julia’s turn. “Wish me luck,” she said.

“I hope you win the karaoke contest,” Deacon said in an insincere singsong tone.

Wes kicked him under the table.

He watched Posy watch Julia and saw the second that she realized how good his sister-in-law was. “Amazing, right?”

“She doesn’t look anything like Madonna, but then she gets up there and just...”

“I know.”

When Julia finished, the entire place clapped for her and Deacon was on his feet whistling.

Julia was on top of the leader board when Chloe went up. He had her pegged for a ballad and she didn’t disappoint when she launched into a Celine Dion song that always made him cringe.

She carried it off, though, and the applause rating put her even with Julia. There were only two more acts before he and Posy had their chance, so it looked very possible that either Julia or Chloe would be the winner.

Posy touched his arm. “I think we need to go with something totally over-the-top and fun. We need them ready to yell when we’re finished.”

“Springsteen?”

“I can’t sing Bruce,” Posy said. “Can you?”

“I wish.”

“Okay, then I nominate ‘Friends in Low Places.’”

Wes pumped his fist. “Genius.”

When their names were called, he walked behind Posy through the crowd toward the stage. They passed Chloe and her table of women. Several of them called out greetings to Posy. Chloe said, “Cute shoes.”

Wes didn’t know why that was an insult because he thought Posy’s shoes looked perfectly fine, but it definitely was a dig. Posy stopped dead and if he hadn’t been watching her hips so closely as they wove through the tables, he might have run right into her.

“What did you say?” she asked Chloe.

“Cute. Shoes.”

Two of the women leaned out to get a better look at Posy’s feet and Wes glanced down again, but he still couldn’t see anything wrong.

Posy tossed her hair over her shoulder and continued toward the stage. When they got there, Wes told the emcee what song they wanted and then turned to see that Posy was unbuttoning the big sweater she’d been wearing. Underneath she had on a bright pink shirt. The top three or four buttons were undone and he had a clear view of the tight black tank top layered below and the gentle swell of her breasts underneath. She was put together so perfectly.

“Ready?” she asked.

Was he ever.

They kicked ass.

Posy owned the stage the same way she owned the plate that afternoon. He actually stumbled over the lyrics at the top of the second chorus when Posy pointed her mic into the crowd and got them singing along. She was shimmying to the music, and watching her hips pump from side to side completely distracted him. Luckily he recovered and the crowd didn’t seem to care. They were as into her as he was.

When they were finished, the applause meter put them ahead of Julia in first place. The emcee brought their trophy out and Wes stepped back so Posy could grab it. She didn’t waggle it in Chloe’s direction, which he would have done. She was obviously more mature than he was.

When the emcee asked what they wanted to do for an encore, he didn’t even ask Posy, he just said the first song that came to mind. It had been on his mind since he and Posy first started discussing what to sing.

“We’ll sing ‘Faithfully’ by Journey.”

* * *

P
OSY
ALMOST
DROPPED
the trophy. Singing with Wes had been amazing. He had a great voice and he knew how to work the crowd. She’d gotten to stand with him and see Chloe’s face when the emcee declared them the winners. That had been enough, she thought. She didn’t need any more.

Then the first notes of “Faithfully” started and Wes held the mic near his mouth, singing right to her and she didn’t know what to do. She missed her first cue. Wes sang his line and then took her hand and somehow she found her voice.

She’d never sung a duet like this with anyone in public. Never in private, either. She’d always been on her own. Tonight, though, Wes had been with her when she showed Chloe up and now he was with her again, singing to her, his thumb rubbing across the inside of her wrist while he sang.