His Vinyl Vixen (Beach Avenue Babes Book 1)

by Abby Knox

  He reached into his pocket and peeled off a couple dozen single bills, slapping them on the table. Clearly he was paying from his tip jar for the day. This made her heart feel a little sad. Kai caught her look of sympathy. “It’s my money, and I can handle it. Let’s go.”

  She allowed Kai to hold her hand as they walked their way down off the pier and back across Beach Avenue to the Sing Noodle House.

  “What are we doing here? We just ate,” she asked.

  “On Tuesday nights they do karaoke. Haven’t you lived here for your whole life?”

  “Kinda.”

  “How is it possibly you’ve never been here for karaoke?”

  “Trivia night is more my speed,” she said. “I try to put on my cloak of invisibility when people want me to make a spectacle out of myself.”

  Kai stopped before reaching for the door. Without warning, he pulled Zara in close and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  His eyes searched her face; his lips were inches away from hers. His arms squeezed around her in a way that was too familiar, but she felt her body soften. What the fuck did he think he was doing?

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kiss you yet,” he said, as if reading her mind. “I’m just going to tell you that it doesn’t matter what you do, how much you try to hide, you are the center of attention everywhere you go. Because you are fucking amazing. And you deserve all the attention.”

  “Kai,” she heard herself say, the word coming out awkwardly as she looked around. “People are staring at you.”

  “No, they’re staring at you. Because you’re beautiful and sweet and terrifying all wrapped up in a cool little package that lets nobody see the real you.”

  She scoffed. “I prefer to think of it as my own personal panic room.”

  “What are you panicking about?”

  “I don’t sing in front of people. Why are you making me do this?”

  He sighed. “Because if we’re going to spend time together, this is one of the things we’re going to do.”

  “Who says I want to spend time with you?” There went her smartass mouth again.

  She could see the wheels turning. She looked into his eyes to see if she’d hurt him. But honestly, she didn’t see any hurt. She saw determination.

  Men usually gave up on her after the first “fuck you and your free coffee.” That suited her just fine.

  Most men were weak. Her biological father was weak.

  Kai was not most men. He was undeterred by her resting bitch face.

  Chapter 8

  Kai

  He had taken a huge risk, grabbing her like that. She was rigid at first, and Kai thought she might bolt. But then to his relief, she relaxed. She felt right in his arms, and as necessary as one of his own limbs.

  He had no business putting his hands on this female whom he had only just met last week and who was now his coworker and the daughter of his boss. The inappropriateness of this contact with her made it all the more interesting. She felt it, too. She glared at him, but her cheeks were turning pink and her pupils were dilating. Her body was responding to him, even if the solid coat of steel around her heart was not.

  He released her from his grip and took her hand. In her eyes he saw relief and surprise, but maybe also a little bit of disappointment. Had she wanted him to kiss her?

  He grinned. “You’ve been working hard. It’s time to loosen up.”

  Inside, he moseyed up to the bar where the bartender already had a Budweiser cracked open for him and waiting. “Hello, my friend.”

  Kai nodded. “How’s it hangin’, Chan?”

  Zara looked at him in amazement.

  “What?” Kai asked, feeling self-conscious.

  “You’ve lived here a week and you already know the name of everyone in town?”

  He shrugged and asked her what she wanted to drink.

  “Seltzer, please.”

  The bartender eyed her suspiciously then looked at Kai. Kai placated him with, “She’s my designated driver tonight, cut her some slack.”

  Zara took her seltzer and followed Kai to a table right in front of the stage. “I’m not singing, I don’t care what you say.”

  “Oh, but you do,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows at her mischievously.

  “Well, yes I do, but it’s a free country and I don’t have to sing.”

  “But what if I said I really, really wanted to hear you sing?”

  She sighed. “OK, but I don’t want you giving me a hard time about the song.”

  He smiled. “No Sex Pistols. You gotta pick something that 100 percent of people like. The key here is short, peppy and popular. No The Smiths either.”

  Zara rolled her eyes. “What, you don’t think ‘Meat is Murder’ will be perky enough?”

  Kai was falling for this sassy female beyond all reason. The truth was, he didn’t need her to sing. He already could see into her and she belonged to him. Body and soul. She had a fire in her belly and an attitude to match it. He desired everything about her. He just wanted to be close to her, even if she could not carry a tune in a bucket. Her mind, her humor, her smartass comments. Her sweet and salty little sneer. Every time she gave him that sideways sarcastic lip he wanted to bite it. He wanted to shock her by running his hands right up under that little plaid skirt of hers.

  Well, he thought, it was dark in there, and there were tablecloths long enough to hide any illicit behavior that might be going on from the waist down. Let’s just see how things go first, lover boy, he thought.

  Chapter 9

  Zara

  She drank her seltzer and he drank his beer. They talked, and she realized she had spent the entire day with him and didn’t feel the urge to punch him in the throat.

  She could easily fall for this boy. He had a functioning brain when it came to music. He knew how to cheer her up with coffee and food. She liked the way he smelled. And even more, the way he looked at her. He was kind and polite in all the right ways. He had a beautiful singing voice.

  But Dusty had fallen for a guy with a similar mystique when she was precisely the age Zara was now, and that had changed Dusty’s entire life trajectory.

  Zara needed to know more things before he touched her again. She didn’t trust herself to put on the brakes.

  “I need to ask you something,” she said.

  “OK.”

  “There’s a reason I don’t trust hippie-bohemian types. Tell me more about yourself. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

  “I have no reason to lie.”

  “Sure you do. You’re trying to woo me. So therefore anything you say can be construed as an embellishment in order to win me over. So spill it. Are you a serial killer? Do you live in a tent? What’s your deal?”

  Kai laughed. “I’m not a serial killer. I’m very good looking and I don’t have a comb-over or pop-bottle glasses.”

  She glowered at him and set him straight. “Women found Ted Bundy to be very attractive. No comb-over.”

  “Ah yes, but he used crutches and pretended to be helpless, didn’t he?”

  “Very true,” she said. “You’re definitely not helpless. I’m just having a hard time deciding what my guts are telling me.”

  Kai studied her face so intently she felt self-conscious. Finally, he dug out his canvas wallet.

  “That thing looks like you made it at summer camp,” she said.

  “I did,” he said, in that proud-little-boy way that made Zara melt.

  He literally laid out all his cards on the table. Then took a big swallow of beer while she inspected them.

  Among the cards on the table was his legit-looking driver license. The only thing that seemed fake was his name. “Kai Stormcloud? Come on.”

  “Real hippie parents,” he said with a shrug, pulling on his beer. “Changed their last name and everything.”

  Zara’s dad had been a right asshole, but at least he didn’t saddle her with an ultra-hippie name. Looking back down at the table, she noticed he had no heal
th insurance cards, which did not surprise her. No credit cards or debit cards, oddly.

  “I do have some concerns here,” she said. “First of all, I don’t see a library card. Second of all, you should not be walking around with your social security card. If you get robbed, it’s all the easier to steal your identity.”

  “OK. Tomorrow I’ll get a library card for our next date,” he said with sincerity.

  “Who says we’re having a next date?”

  Kai leaned in and murmured close to her face, “Because if things go well, I hope tomorrow will just be a continuation of this date.”

  “You’re making me blush.”

  “And you’re making me really fuckin’ hot.”

  Zara was feeling flushed and took a long sip of her cold seltzer to calm herself down.

  “So, what’s your story, Kai?”

  “I was raised by my aunt in Oregon. Long story. Both my parents are alcoholics who sort of wandered off and left me with her. She’s my absolute hero. I worship the ground she walks on. She always let me be who I was. I asked for guitar lessons, she made sure it happened even though she never had much money. Every cent I make, half of it goes back to my aunt. Her husband was a tool, never supported her desire to go back to school. Really controlling. He’s dead now, may he not rest in peace.”

  Zara had the feeling he was telling the truth. “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “Last year. I lived with her longer than a grown man should live with his mom or aunt. But I helped her around the house and I worked. A lot.

  “But then last year she said, ‘Kai, you need to go find yourself and see the rest of the country.’ I said I wanted to stay and take care of her, but she insisted. So, I scraped money together, gave her half of it and used the rest to make my way down to San Diego. Since then, I’ve been going from place to place, busking, staying in motels when I can afford it, or staying with friends I make along the way. A few months here. A few weeks there. And that’s about it. But now that I found you, I don’t really feel like leaving Sea Grove. In fact, I’m moving into my own apartment next week.”

  She studied his face. He was telling the truth. “I don’t know what to say to that. It’s a big step to commit to an apartment at Southern California rental prices based on a feeling about a girl.”

  “More than a feeling,” he said.

  “Boston. Good song,” she said.

  “Seriously. I have money saved. You don’t need to worry about me.”

  Zara drew in a shaky breath. “Well, since you spilled your guts, it’s only fair to tell you about my trust issues.”

  “Go on.”

  “My mom fell for my father when she was 21. She was sort of a grass-roots groupie, followed his little unknown band from place to place. Eventually, he got her pregnant, but he seemed cool with the idea of starting a family. He was a free spirit and a bad boy musician, so Mom thought his reaction meant he was serious about her.

  “Dusty followed him to some ranch in Northern California where he said he had family. It turned out to be a bunch of people living in teepees in some remote mountain campground. It wasn’t clear how they were his “family.” It was weird at first, but everyone was nice and they took care of her. He had a way of explaining everything in a way that made her feel like she was the crazy one.

  “But then slowly, she started to realize he was giving orders to everyone at the campground and that he was sleeping with a bunch of the other women.

  “When she confronted him, he somehow convinced her it was her fault she was upset about him sleeping around. He was, or is, a master manipulator.

  “After I was born, it was clear to her that he wasn’t going to legally marry her. He would travel for gigs and bring back more women. She knew she needed a plan to get out. She was also smart, and she found out where the group stashed all their cash. She started squirreling money away a little at a time and buried it.

  “I look at the strong woman who raised me now, and I can’t believe everything she put up with. When I was about seven years old, the DEA raided the camp—because they were dealing in drugs, guns, you name it. If it was on the black market, they were into it. and Mom took this as her chance to get away. She grabbed as much cash as she could fit in her backpack and we headed down the mountain. It was scary. It rained, and she ended up carrying me on her back for some of the trek. But we made it.

  “And then she moved us to Southern California to start her life over. We’ve been in Sea Grove ever since. She saw that this old record store was for sale, so she used her stash of cash to buy the whole damn building.

  “It’s never been a gold mine. Mom’s got a kind heart and is always giving her money and products away, but it keeps her busy and helps her to have something to do than feel guilty about stealing all that money.”

  Zara’s chair had somehow moved right up against Kai’s by the time Zara was finished telling her story. She was surprised to find she didn’t feel alarmed in the slightest to find that Kai’s arms were around her waist. She felt honored and protected. She kind of wanted to stay just like this, his tanned, beefy arms making her feel safe from all the stupidity of the world.

  “Hey,” he said. “Thank you for telling me your story.”

  Chapter 10

  Kai

  His lips were so close to hers he could feel the heat coming off her. He could feel her breath rising and falling as he held her close. As she told her story, he had dared to put his arms around her. He had to do something, and it was the best thing he could think to do.

  She might hold on to a cold persona, but she needed someone to be close to her. He felt unbelievably happy that she let him be a part of her space.

  Her scent beckoned him to push even further. They were so close he guessed she could feel his heart racing. He stole a downward glance, where her tattered Ramones tee-shirt was torn into a deep vee, revealing her cleavage that could only be seen from this angle, close up. The sight of the tops of her breasts made his cock spring to life but also triggered the protective nature in him. He didn’t want anyone else to look at her cleavage like that, or to have the reaction he was having.

  Kai considered himself a very enlightened man. Never shamed a female for dressing as revealing as she wanted to. But the inner caveman in him sent a message that her breasts were for his eyes only. His mouth. His hands.

  He waited for a signal. And then he got it. She darted her eyes down to his mouth and licked her lips.

  The next moment, the bar, the cheap candles, the music, and the whole world of their broken pasts fell away like dry husks. What was left was a new, soft, fresh thing. It was only them. Together. Us.

  Her soft lips yielded to his and filled his senses like warm salted caramel. His hand went to her jawline as he deepened the kiss. Kai could not wait to explore her mouth. He was about to try tasting her lips with his tongue when suddenly, they were interrupted.

  “Kai, you’re on!”

  The sound came from the stage there karaoke deejay was announcing his name over the loudspeaker.

  Well, shit.

  Chapter 11

  Zara

  “Yours was the first face I saw;

  I think I was blind before I met you.”

  If someone had told Zara she would fall flat-on-her-face in love with a guy over a song, she might believe it. If that someone told her the moment would be at karaoke, and the song would be “The First Day of My Life,” by Bright Eyes, she would have thought it was just too perfectly sappy. She had actually pictured a scenario closer to being brought up on stage during a Dropkick Murphys concert and being proposed to by…any of the members.

  But, again, Kai turned all her notions upside down.

  All she could tell you was the way he sang that sweet song to her wasn’t one bit sappy. Perhaps it was the way his eyes kept drifting down to her breasts. He was letting her know what he thought with his words, but his eyes were telling her exactly what he wanted to do with her.

 
; Would she let him? Probably.

  Did she want to walk through the gauntlet of having to sing in public to get there? Not really.

  Did she need to tell him she was a virgin? That might be a good idea.

  When the song ended, Kai hopped down off the stage. “Your turn, beautiful,” he said with a swagger and a wink.

  “We could just get out of here and finish that kiss,” she tried.

  A look of smoldering hunger shadowed his face. He wolfed down his beer and slammed the bottle on the table. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to sing a song. And then I’m going to watch you sing. And then I’ll know.”

  “You’ll know what?”

  “Whether or not we’re going to end up together.”

  Zara was confused. “Didn’t I just tell you I wanted to finish that kiss? You’re pretty much guaranteed a hookup with me tonight.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I meant, whether or not I’m going to marry you.”

  Zara knew this kind of talk should send her running to the hills. “Marry?”

  You don’t bring that up on a first date. Relationship suicide, right? But…somehow the idea wasn’t scaring her. Why wasn’t it scaring her? It definitely should be. Her cautious side was telling her to leave right now. But the other side, the side that belonged to her heart, told her not to overreact.

  The audience got tired of waiting for Zara to decide, and someone else hopped up and started in with “Faith” by George Michael. Kai took his seat next to Zara and she inhaled deeply his masculine scent.

  She allowed herself to feel good when he was close.

  “You can tell all that by watching me sing?”

  “I can tell a lot of things by watching a person sing. And then after that, I’ll take you home, where I will either sleep on the sofa or make you come with my mouth. The choice is up to you.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” she said, finishing her seltzer, trying not to let her voice shake at the shock of him bringing up the proposition of oral sex.