Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) by Tracy Krimmer

lyrics.
    “Is this seat taken?” A handsome gentleman with a black cowboy hat slips onto the saddle before I can protest. I open my mouth to speak and he interrupts me. “Why’s a pretty little lady like you sitting at the bar all alone?”
    “Pretty little lady?” I repeat as my gag reflex kicks in. Is this what a man considers a compliment?
    “Yes, ma’am. I’ve been watching you fret since you came in. You don’t look like you belong here.”
    I’m not shocked I stick out. “I’m waiting for someone.”
    He tips his hat. “Very well, then. If this man of yours doesn’t show, I’ll be here all night. My name’s Rich.”
    “Kate.” I keep my hands on the bar, wrapped around the stem of my wine glass. “Enjoy your night.”
    I think he gets the hint and doesn’t offer any more discussion. I’m slightly pleased by the approach, but this isn’t exactly how I want to meet someone. I’m meeting Ned here, but I never consider a bar a great place to start a relationship. We’ve at least met before.
    Another ten minutes pass, and I think I’m being blown off. Okay, I’m convinced I am. What kind of a guy agrees to a date and then doesn’t show? And he picked the location? The music is beginning to grow on me, though. Still, I can think of many other things I want to be doing, including searching my database for more houses for Kellan. I finish off my drink and start to walk out the door as the band sets to take the stage. Wait a minute … the man holding a guitar … it’s Ned! No wonder he hasn’t shown up. He’s been here and is playing with the band. That must be the big surprise!
    I find a table in front of him so I can listen to him play. When I sit down, he winks at me, and a smile spreads across my face. I smirk wondering if he's aware I almost waltzed right out the door.  
    He begins to strum the guitar and the lyrics sound familiar. Despite my dislike for country music, I can’t deny Ned’s voice. He’s definitely in tune and playing the guitar at the same time doesn't faze him. I glance around me and everyone is listening intently, swaying to the slow song. Once the song is done, the audience claps and cheers, and Ned introduces himself.  
    "Thank you very much folks. I'm Ned and my bandmates here are Zach, Chris, and Tony. Together we are Nashville Cats and we’re here to spread the Randy Travis love.”  
    This dude is in a Randy Travis cover band. I recall my mother singing his songs at the top of her lungs while she put her makeup on in the morning. Gosh, her voice annoyed the hell out of me. I always yelled at her to be quiet, pushing my pillow against my face, covering my ears. Now I would give anything to hear her sing again.
    By the time he finishes his set, I find myself enjoying every note, and wishing for more. Live music is the best, and country is no exception. He sets his guitar down and joins me at the table.
    “Glad you stayed.”
    “Oh. You saw that?” He probably thinks I’m a bitch now. Seriously, though, how long did he expect me to wait?
    He flicks at the pick in his hand. “I sure did. So, what did you think?” The pick now acts like a toothpick.
    I’m not sure if I should tell him my dislike for the genre he plays. I mean, I ended up liking his set, so that counts for something right? Starting off a date with an insult, though, may not be the best idea. “You’re a spectacular singer.” I didn’t say anything about the music, and spoke truth about his voice. “How long have you been playing?”
    “Since I was a teenager. I jammed in a ton of bands, but about two years ago I found the Nashville Cats and loved the energy. Their lead singer and guitarist just left, so the timing was perfect.”
    “Good for you.” That’s incredible he’s following his dreams. Dreaming big is hard. You can try to reach your goals, but so many things can stand in the way.
    Ned waves his hand at the bartender and someone brings him a beer. “Want one?”
    “No