Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I don’t know why you need makeup on to go to a coffeehouse,” I grumbled. “It’s dark in there anyway.”
“Because I’m a girl and girls wear makeup,” she said, losing patience with me.
“Not at thirteen.”
“Can you just drop it? Geez, Dad!”
“Fine,” I said, pulling my truck into the parking lot already filled with cars.
I hopped out of the truck and walked around the hood to help Sage out. She hated when I did shit like that, but I couldn’t help myself. She was my little girl, and I was hoping that, if I continued to open doors for her and make sure I walked on the outside of the sidewalk, she’d remember that when she started dating and had to decide which boys she’d spend her time with.
“You’re such a dork,” she told me as I crooked my elbow for her to grasp.
“You think I’m awesome, don’t lie,” I retorted, opening the front door and ushering her inside.
We found a table off to the side of the room, and I smiled as I watched Sage glance around us at all the teenagers. She was quite a bit younger than most of them, and I knew she was feeling a little nervous about being there with her dad.
“Hey, guys, can I get you anything to drink?” a young kid in an apron asked us right after we’d sat down, flipping his bangs off his forehead as he stared at Sage.
“Can I have a hot chocolate?” Sage asked softly, blushing.
Oh hell no.
“Black coffee,” I barked, making the kid jump.
“Uh, sure thing,” he mumbled, backing up a step before spinning around.
“Seriously, Dad?” Sage hissed, glancing around us.
“What?” I knew exactly what. I’d been a jackass, but I wasn’t about to explain that that boy had been checking out my thirteen-year-old daughter right in front of me. Better that she had no idea about the effect she had on the opposite sex.
“Hey, San Diego,” a familiar voice called out over the speakers. “How you guys doing tonight?”
The room filled with cheers, and Sage’s face lit up as she looked past me toward the stage.
“Aren’t you guys sweet?” Kate rasped with a short chuckle. “I love coming in to play for you. You’re good for my ego.”
The crowd grew even louder, and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face.
“If you’re new to our little open-mike night, there’s a coffee can being passed around. Who’s got it?” She paused. “Okay, see the boy in the yellow shirt? Raise your hand, Colby. There, that guy. When you get ahold of that coffee can, drop in a few dollars if you can and pass it on.”
The crowd clapped, and she chuckled again over the sound system.
The clear notes of a single guitar came through the speakers, and I watched Sage freeze as the entire room went silent. Even the baristas behind the counter stopped what they were doing to watch the stage as Kate began to sing.
My eyes were glued to Sage as the sound of Kate’s voice hit me the way it always did.
Even after five years together, she still took my breath away when she sang. She was incredible. My eyes finally left Sage’s enraptured face, and I turned to see Kate in a flowing red flowered dress, her lips and eyes painted dark. She knew exactly what she was doing, and the kids around the room freaking loved her.
She hadn’t sung in public for quite a while after Iris was born, but a little more than a year ago she’d mentioned that she wanted that creative outlet again. I’d supported her wholeheartedly.
There was something about her self-confidence onstage that just did it for me, and I was willing to pay a couple of girls in our new neighborhood to watch the kids for an hour or two so I could take her for a night out once or twice a month.
When we’d moved from Oceanside almost a year after Iris was born, Kate had been nervous that the kids would never make any friends and we’d never be able to find a babysitter again. Fortunately, she’d been wrong on both counts, and our small cul-de-sac was filled with families with both little kids and teenagers. It was pretty much the best neighborhood we could have chosen.
We could go out once a week, even if it was just for a quick dinner, and sometimes we were even able to catch a movie afterward. But my favorite nights—by far—were the ones I watched my wife on stage. Kate loved performing, especially for charity, and I loved watching her have fun. It was a win-win.
“Pretty cool, huh?” I asked Sage, smiling as she waved off the kid who brought our drinks when he stepped between her and the stage.
“Shh, Dad! She’s been practicing this Ella Henderson song forever. She’s completely slowed down the tempo. I wanna hear!”