by Jewel Allen
Duke scratched his head. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
“Let’s hear you sing,” Oscar said. “’My Heart Will blah blah blah and some such cheese’ from that disaster movie.”
Duke frowned. “I’m trying to remember that…”
“I don’t think you want that one,” Brooke said. “Maybe something manly like ‘YMCA.’”
“It’s settled, then,” Oscar said. “We’re doing karaoke.”
Brooke sighed. Oscar loved karaoke even though he was a terrible singer. Maybe because of that. “As long as we aren’t out too late.”
“Why?” Duke asked.
“We have church in the morning,” Brooke explained.
“She makes me go.” Oscar rolled his eyes.
“If it gets you taking one good shower and having a nice shave, then it’s worth it,” Brooke said.
“Do I need nice clothes for church?” Duke asked.
“They’ll take you as you are,” Brooke said, “though it wouldn’t hurt to clean up. Are you about Oscar’s size?”
The two men stood side by side. Duke was taller by a few inches but had a similar build. “The only thing is,” Oscar said, “I only have one church shirt.”
“You can go in just a regular shirt,” Brooke told Duke. “You’ll be fine.”
“Is there a dress code for karaoke too?” Duke teased.
Oscar deadpanned, “If you go in a tie, they’ll kick you out.”
Chapter Eighteen
Duke got out of Oscar’s truck and opened Brooke’s door. She raised her eyes to his and smiled. “Thanks.”
Since boat camping, Brooke seemed nicer to him. She actually talked to him, especially when Oscar was around and, like now, smiled at him now and then. He puzzled over the subtle change. He was curious about what the brother and sister were talking about at the boat camp, and wondered if Oscar had said something to her. Knowing Brooke, she probably wasn’t all in, but at least it seemed she was starting to thaw.
He knew better than to push her. Letting him tag along to karaoke felt like a small victory. He would simply stop keeping score and enjoying the evening.
Rusty’s was a plain box stucco building with a giant lizard on the side. As they walked inside, a group of men with a few girls greeted the siblings from some tables near the entrance. They gave Duke a once-over.
Oscar clapped a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “This here is our friend, Duke.”
“Yeah, we remember him,” one of the guys said. Duke recognized him as one of the paramedics he’d seen at the infirmary.
“Well, he sure doesn’t remember you. Get it?” There were a few nervous titters to Oscar’s weak joke.
“Actually,” the paramedic said, “wouldn’t he remember us since it was after his amnesia?”
“Smart.” Oscar tapped the side of his head. “Did you figure out who he is while you were at it?”
“Nope.”
“Shucks,” Oscar told Duke. “I guess you’ll have to be our mystery guy for a little while longer.”
Disquieted, Duke followed Brooke to an open table.
A female server came over, her gaze lingering on Duke. She was pretty, kind of on the mature side, with a hard edge to her eyes. He caught Brooke watching the little interaction, and she quickly averted her eyes.
The server leaned forward, flashing him a smile. “What’ll you have, hon?”
“Just a Coke, please.”
A woman who looked to be in her late teens stood on the designated stage—a space near the kitchen door—belting out a song Duke recognized, but he couldn’t say what the title was. He wondered what kind of memories his brain had about songs. Would he remember lyrics? Titles? Customers at a neighboring table handed them a tattered black binder with titles. Duke focused on the names, and some did ring a bell.
“You remember these?” Brooke said.
“Yes.” Duke smiled, feeling happy to have a semblance of memory back.
“What will you sing, buddy?” Oscar asked him.
Duke returned his attention to the list. He could sing a rock and roll number, or a love ballad. Or a combination. He pointed at an Aerosmith song. “’I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.’”
“Interesting choice,” Oscar said. “Go for it.”
The singer was done, bowing to a smattering of applause. Duke stood and made his way to the deejay. Brooke watched him with surprise in her eyes. He couldn’t explain his confidence in doing this, but it felt right to sing, like he’d done this before.
The room hushed as the audience watched him take his place. The opening chords blared from the speakers, and Duke started singing. As he did so, he glanced often at Brooke. She watched him, spellbound, her mouth slightly open in shock. He was surprised too. He didn’t sound half bad. When he was partway through, during an instrumental riff, he noticed Oscar leaning over to Brooke and Brooke nodding.
Duke continued with the song, feeling more at home as the verses began to wrap up. When he sang the last note, there was a stunned silence before everyone clapped, punctuated with piercing wolf whistles.
He felt a jolt of pleasure through his body. Singing felt natural, and he could keep going all day. But his song had ended, and a man staggered forward with his glass of beer.
“Hey, deejay, I want a song…” the man slurred, so Duke made his way back to Brooke and Oscar.
“Well,” Oscar said. “You sure floored us all. You can sing, buddy.”
Duke grinned, feeling a rush of pride. “Thanks.”
Brooke blinked away what looked like tears in her eyes. “That was amazing.”
Coming from her, it meant a lot. “I appreciate it.”
“Maybe he’s a singer in his other life,” Oscar said.
“Maybe.” Brooke’s expression turned thoughtful, subdued.
When the karaoke singer was well underway in his “performance,” Duke scooted his chair over and sat closer to Brooke.
“Something wrong?” Duke asked.
Brooke hesitated. “I was just thinking about how you’re just a bag of surprises.”
“You really liked my singing?”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “Let’s say your performance was better than the original. You could be a rock star or something.”
“Maybe I am,” he teased.
Brooke studied him again before knocking back a mouthful of her soda. It was too loud to talk. The singer was shouting out the high notes and slurring the words, painful to watch.
“Are you going to sing?” Duke asked Oscar.
“Oh, I will,” Oscar lamented. “Even though everyone tries to pay me to sit down and not finish the song.” He blinked. “Or maybe because of that.”
With the singer done, Oscar jumped up. He took center stage and gave the deejay a dramatic nod. “The usual, please.”
“He always sings the same song,” Brooke said in Duke’s ear. They were sitting kind of close, out of necessity so they could hear each other over the earlier screeching and now with the opening riff of Oscar’s chosen song.
“I Will Survive,” Duke said. “By Gloria Gaynor.”
Brooke stared at him. “Yes. Exactly.”
“I knew that…” Duke’s voice was shaky. “I remembered it. Just like that.”
Brooke leaned toward him eagerly. “Maybe your memory is coming back.”
On the table, Duke covered her hand with his and squeezed it. Happiness filled him, and he wanted to share the moment. Brooke shifted her hand, and he expected her to pull away, but instead, she turned her palm up so they held hands.
She wouldn’t look at him. It was all right because he was afraid if he looked at her, she would realize her hand was in his and pull away. On the stage, Oscar was pulling all sorts of antics, making everyone laugh, while Duke’s heart beat fast.
When Oscar was done, he bent over and bowed so his jean bottoms faced the audience, who roared with laughter and booed him off good-naturedly.
Duke turned to Brooke and caressed her han
d with his thumb. “How about you?”
She turned to him and asked softly, “How about me?”
And then he was lost as well and only able to think of how her hand felt good in his and how he didn’t really “want to miss a thing” when it came to Brooke.
Oscar jumped at them from behind, causing them to unlink hands, and Brooke put a hand on her chest. “Don’t do that.”
“What are you guys doing?” Oscar asked, sounding all innocent.
“Filleting fish,” Brooke said.
Oscar laughed while Duke looked on, feeling a little lost.
“Your turn to sing, sissy,” Oscar said, settling back into his chair.
She covered her cheeks with her hands. “Ugh, I don’t know…”
Duke nudged her playfully with his shoulder. “Come on. Do it. If Oscar could subject us to his singing, then…”
“Yeah, Brooke,” Oscar piled on her, “do it.”
Brooke shook her head against the pressure but studied the black binder. Biting her lip and letting Duke squeeze her hand before setting her free, she got up and made her way to the stage. No doubt to be on the safe side, she picked a crowd favorite by Neil Diamond, and everyone sang along with her.
“That was nice,” Duke complimented her when she returned to the table, putting an arm around her shoulder and giving her a side hug.
“Thanks.” She leaned into him and away until he let her go. “Not good enough to quit my day job.”
As they left the bar soon after, the server slipped Duke a note with her phone number. In plain sight of Brooke, he crumpled the paper and tossed it in the ashtray in front of Rusty’s. Then he caught Brooke’s hand in his. Under the moonlight, her eyes glowed as she glanced at him. With reluctance, he let her go so she could get in the front passenger seat while he got in the back.
“Trina seemed to like you a lot,” Oscar said, pointing out the obvious. “The server.”
“Oh?” Duke played it cool.
“She’s divorced, with a teenage kid.”
“Good to know.”
“Buddy.” Oscar clapped him on the back. “Aren’t you interested at all?”
Duke’s gaze flicked to Brooke, who was watching him in the rearview mirror. “Nope.”
“Because of the kid?”
“Because I’m not looking for someone else.”
Duke couldn’t tell with how dark it was outside, but he thought she blushed before looking away.
“Well, if you’re waiting for Brooke, you’ll be waiting a long time. I intend to stay a bachelor, and she says she won’t leave me until I die or marry, whichever comes first. Although, she did say she would be our live-in cook when I get married. ”
Brooke punched her brother in the arm, but Duke thought he caught a smile.
When they got home, she went straight to the kitchen while Oscar disappeared into the bedroom. There were a few dishes in the sink, and she was already tackling them in her no-nonsense away. With a heightened sense of anticipation, Duke joined her and offered to dry.
“Sure,” she said, not moving away like other times. Duke’s spirits lifted. Something had caused a change in Brooke, and he rather liked it.
They worked silently, side by side, until she piped up. “You sang great tonight,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“That’s one of my favorite songs.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
Her hands stilled in the water. “My dad used to sing it to my mom all the time. He sang it one last time the night before he died.”
Duke turned to study her profile. Her mouth had turned down at the edges. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. One rolled, as did another. He dried his hands on the towel and brushed away her tears with his thumb.
“You’ll get the dishes all salty,” she said in a shaky voice. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be crying. We just watched Oscar slaughter his song, for heaven’s sakes.”
“It’s okay to cry,” he whispered. “It makes you vulnerable. Brave. Beautiful.”
She stared at him, looking mesmerized. “Are you a poet too?”
“Maybe.” Duke caressed her cheek. “You miss your dad, yes?”
She closed her eyes, and more tears came. They fluttered open, and she sniffled. “Yes. Mom too. I wish I could have a heart-to-heart with her, but I always feel like I’m bothering her while she’s trying to take care of my stepsiblings.”
Her cheek felt soft and smooth under his touch. “I wish I could remember enough to miss someone.”
She dried her hands slowly on the towel and gazed at him with tenderness. Standing at the sink, sharing this moment with this beautiful, caring woman, felt natural. He continued to stroke her soft cheek.
Her smile faltered as the air became charged between them. “Duke…” she whispered as he gathered her slowly in his arms. “Maybe we shouldn’t…”
He kissed her forehead and pulled away slightly to study her face. “Shouldn’t what, sweetheart?”
Her eyes widened, and then her gaze fell to his lips, causing him to forget whatever train of thought had been in his brain just moments before. With a shaky breath, he slid his fingers along her jaw until they cradled the side of her face.
“I’m scared,” she confessed with a shaky little laugh.
He bopped her cute little nose lightly. “We can be scared together.”
She smirked. “You aren’t scared.”
“Yes, I am.” He paused. “I’m scared of losing you.”
She looked down, a smile lighting up her lovely face, and then into his eyes. “Here we are tonight. No one’s leaving,” she murmured close to his lips, her breath warm and enticing. “Oscar said I should take the plunge.”
He smiled. “Good ol’ Oscar is a good guy.”
“Yeah, for a brother, he’s not too bad.”
They laughed and then turned serious again. The conversation faded into silence as a fierce need to be close to her overwhelmed his senses. He skimmed her lower lip with his thumb, and she swayed toward him with a little gasp.
He kissed her gently at first, little butterfly touches that held promises. Her lips were sweet, oh, so sweet and warm, the very essence of life. And then his free arm circled her at the waist, pulling her closer. His mouth captured hers, and she met his passion with an eagerness that pleased him.
Her arms rose and twined around his neck, pulling him even closer. Not needing further prompting, he sank his fingers into her hair and tipped her head to grant him access that left him wanting for more. As their kiss deepened, his hunger for her intensified. He didn’t want to let her go.
After a few minutes that felt like a blink of an eye, she pushed against his chest. Reluctantly, he surfaced for air. When they came apart, she raised her fingers to her trembling lips.
Already, he wanted to kiss her again. But he didn’t want to demand too much, so he followed her lead. She took a step back, and the air swirled around them like an invisible fence. He reached for her once again, but she shook her head.
“I think it’s best if I say good night,” she said.
“Already?” He couldn’t hide the longing in his voice.
She touched his cheek and nodded. But her eyes glimmered with a sweetness that tugged at his heart. She kissed two of her fingers and pressed them on his lips. Then she left for her bedroom, leaving him wondering if that was all just a wonderful dream.
Later that night, he lay on his bed and imagined how his future with Brooke could turn out. Tonight certainly was the first step to a promising tomorrow. But first, perhaps, he needed to figure out his past.
Chapter Nineteen
Brooke opened her eyes at the sound of the alarm and was instantly awake.
She’d tossed and turned all night, reliving Duke’s kiss. She’d been kissed before, but never anything like that. Just thinking about how he held her close and how his scruff felt deliciously rough against her soft skin as his lips possessed hers without hesitation made her insides tremble. She smiled.
So much for putting her foot down and drawing a line in the sand. She didn’t have to say yes to a follow-up date, of course, did she?
She drew a long breath and got on her knees to say her morning prayers. Duke’s face floated in her mind. She needed to pray that he could find closure as far as his identity, even though that meant, of course, that he would eventually leave Redding—and her—someday.
This was what she was afraid of. Already, her heart was breaking.
She took her time taking a shower and blow-drying her hair. Normally, during the week, she just drew back her hair in a messy ponytail, but she took extra care for church. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that Duke was going with them.
For a few minutes, she browsed through her meager selection of skirts and dresses. Dressing up had never been a priority for her in recent years, and now she wished she had at least one cute dress that would make her feel and look feminine. At least she didn’t have to choose from too many dresses. She settled on a t-shirt dress in blue that at least flattered her eye color.
With her hair blown dry, she looked like a different woman. Or maybe her eyes were shining brightly and her skin was glowing. She decided against lipstick and just dabbed on some lip gloss. Strawberry. Something delicious in case—
Stop, Brooke.
She took a deep breath and opened the door, ready to scurry and hide like a mouse. Thankfully, Oscar and Duke were talking. Oscar was going to church too, so she didn’t have to worry about any awkwardness.
Her eyes automatically went to Duke.
He looked up from where he was leaning against the bar, calm and collected—opposite of how she felt—still in his sleepwear. He visibly swallowed as his eyes traveled from her hair to her dress and back to her eyes, his own filling with heat.
Her mind returned to that kiss, last night…
“There’s our sleepyhead,” Oscar said.
Duke turned fully to her now. There was no hiding from him.
With as much grace as she could muster, Brooke walked toward the bar, nonchalant, as though this gorgeous man was not affecting her whatsoever.