Page 43 of Blue Moon

“Hey, Sol. Sawyer’s been talking about you nonstop.”

She smiled, and I glared at Declan.

I put my hand on her hip from behind to get her attention. “What do you want to drink, babe?”

“I’ll have a rum and coke.”

At least she got the hint that there were no pretty picture-worthy drinks in here with glass rims dipped in crushed candy canes.

She turned to Declan. “Your show the other day was amazing. I’m so impressed.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you a Marine, too?”

“No, I’m in the Navy. Your boyfriend is the only Marine on the squad.”

I wanted to kick him in the balls for his boyfriend comment, though it was accurate. The title just seemed foreign to me. And who knew how long we would last?

“You hungry, babe?”

She shook her head. “No thanks, I already ate.” She paused and glanced at the bar seat, which was slashed; probably by a knife. “So why do you like this place?”

I smirked. She was cute when she was uncomfortable. “Because it’s real. No pretense. Just hard liquor and real food. What you see is what you get.”

She licked her bottom lip. “So, kind of like you?”

“Exactly like me.” I wrapped my arms around her little waist and rested them on her wide hips. She wasn’t even wearing much makeup. Her dark eyes glowed. Her fans might worship the face she presented to social media with all her filters, but I was certain she’d never looked so beautiful in her life than she did staring at me in this smoky bar.

“Is this the kind of place you hung out at back in Iowa?”

“Yup. I’ve never felt comfortable in nice places—even at the academy. I always felt judged.”

She tilted her head and winced. “Did you feel like I was judging you at that restaurant?”

“No, of course not. But I just want to get to know you. The real you. Not Miss Solana San Francisco.”

She laughed, and I noticed the freckles on her cheeks. I’d never seen them before. They must’ve been hidden under her makeup. “You think I can’t hang out in a bar?”

“I don’t know—prove it to me.”

She signaled to the bartender and ordered a shot of tequila. When he delivered it, she downed it without hesitation.

“That’s my girl. Let’s go shoot some pool.” I led her over to the lone pool table at the back of the bar.

“I’m going to put a song on.”

She walked over to the jukebox nearby and flipped through the music selections.

She finally chose a song, and a few minutes later, “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling”started playing.

Ha!

I grabbed her in my arms. “Do you like playing games, little girl?”

“Only with you. You promised to serenade me.”

“I have to be in my uniform for that.”