Rock Me All Night by Katherine Garbera

asked. She felt his gaze move over her body.
    â€œNo. I can’t give up carbs. I try to get out and run…well, I was going to lie and say every day, but I hope you’ll see me naked someday and that means you’ll know I don’t run every day.”
    He laughed and she was glad she’d lightened the mood. “I like a woman who’s soft.”
    â€œIs that a euphemism?” she asked.
    He waited until she met his gaze before he answered and she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “Nope. It’s the truth. There’s something very feminine about curves instead of steel-hard muscles.”
    She took his words to heart. She wasn’t ever going to have big muscles. She didn’t like to work out and she really didn’t like to exercise. But running was fun, and she usually could coax her neighbor two houses down, a writer, to go with her. Jane kept the same odd hours Lauren did, so jogging in the middle of the afternoon suited her.
    â€œTell me about the gig I agreed to for this afternoon.”
    â€œWhat do you want to know?” she asked.
    â€œJust the basics.”
    â€œWe’ll put the hunky guys on the air and let them talk a bit about themselves and what they want in a woman. Ray likes to stir things up, so I’m betting he’s going to put you on, too.”
    â€œHunky guys?”
    She arched her eyebrows at him. “Oh, yeah.”
    Their food arrived and they talked about their likes and dislikes in music. She found out that he had extremely eclectic tastes but really loved old Motown, which was why he’d started his own record label.
    â€œI like Barry Manilow. It’s my deep, dark secret but there it is. My friend Beverly and I try to get to at least one concert of his each tour,” Lauren admitted.
    â€œA Manilow groupie. You’ve shocked me.”
    â€œDon’t say it like that. He writes the songs the whole world sings.”
    â€œPlease don’t start.”
    â€œStart what? I bet you like at least one of his songs.”
    â€œMen don’t like Barry Manilow.”
    She giggled at that. He was so serious, but she saw a glint of humor in his eyes. “That’s silly. I bet if I started singing the beginning to ‘Copacabana,’ you’d join in.”
    â€œThat’s a bet you’d lose. But you’re welcome to try it.”
    She shook her head. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to earn the privilege of hearing my Copa rendition.”
    â€œI’ll make that my new goal,” he said.
    It was a silly promise to have made but it fit this moment and this man. He made it so easy to just be herself that she forgot all about those dating books her mom had sent her over the years and the advice in them. She forgot that every man she’d ever really liked had left. She forgot that Jack thought he was a prince in toad’s clothing.

Seven
    T he Fox Theatre had been part of an urban-renewal project and now shone like an empress on Woodward Avenue. Jack glanced around for Lauren, not sure she’d arrived yet. He’d dropped her off at the station earlier to get her car.
    He checked his watch for the third time and then forced himself to stop.
    â€œSorry I’m late,” Lauren said from behind him.
    He glanced over at her. She made him feel good inside, and he knew better than to indulge in those feelings.
    â€œTy’s coming, too.”
    â€œGreat. That’s just what I need, my little brotherhanging around while I’m romancing you,” he said.
    â€œIs that why you’re here—so you can romance me?”
    â€œI know better than to answer that question.”
    â€œBut you don’t know better than to say that?” she asked, but he knew she was playing with him. There was no anger in her voice. She liked to needle him as much as he liked having her do it.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with romance?”
    â€œNothing. Except that men seem to think