The lead song finished, then the opening guitar licks of “Way Past Dead” started.
“My love for you is way past dead,” I sang along flatly. I’m not quite tone-deaf, but I am harmonially impaired.
“It better not be,” Marsha said.
“Don’t worry.”
“This is great,” she murmured sleepily.
“I think we’re going to be okay,” I said after a few more measures.
“Yeaaahh,” she said, her voice drifting.
Then I settled down in the sand next to her, leaned back against the side of her beach chair, and rested my head against her arm. She brought her other hand across and ran her fingers gently through my hair.
We sat there quietly as the Caribbean sun and Rebecca Gibson’s voice warmed us and brought us slowly back to life.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-ac39a2-ddcb-b545-d5b8-eca8-30cb-b9108d
Document version: 2
Document creation date: 10.04.2012
Created using: calibre 0.8.23, Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
Document authors :
Steven Womack
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Way Past Dead d-3 Page 32