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me,” she says as she slightly turns my way, placing her hand over mine, making sure I keep it there. “What’s your favorite song you sing?”

She licks her lips, and I wonder what they taste like.

“Wow, that’s a hard one.” I think about it for a second. “That’s like naming your favorite child.”

She laughs, and it’s the greatest thing I’ve heard in a while. I remember hearing it the first night at the bar, it was a beautiful melody I wanted to hear over and over again.

“Yes, and deep down, I bet every parent could secretly say which one they liked better. Except mine since I’m an only child.”

“And me since I only have one child,” I volley back.

“So, which one is it?”

“I remember seeing a book put out by Rolling Stone that had what they thought were the five hundred greatest songs of all time, and you know what surprised me about that list?”

“What?” she asks, genuinely interested.

Besides my band, I don’t really get to talk about music with anyone else. People like to talk about my performances but not about the actual music. It’s nice to have someone I can share my passion of the actual songs rather than the performances.

“It had songs from The Beach Boys, Bob Dylan, and John Lennon in the top ten, but the one that really shocked me was Nirvana.”

“Nirvana? Seriously? In the top ten?”

“I know, right?”

“Weren’t those grunge days during your high school times? You lived it, didn’t you?”

“In Montana? Really?” I raise my eyebrows at her. “Do you really think that wave ran through here?”

I laugh out loud at the thought of kids hanging around downtown. “No, I can’t imagine Hazel Jackson putting up with guys walking around with baggy clothes and long hair.”

I smile. “She’d die. Not in my town! I’m sure she’d say and hold a special town hall meeting to put a stop to it.”

Her giggling is the cutest sound ever.

“She totally would.”

She grabs her phone and types something in.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

She’s continues typing on her phone, biting her lip like she’s in thought. I told her I’d be a gentleman, but if she keeps doing that, I don’t know if I can keep my promise much longer.

“I’m curious about this list you talked about. The top five hundred songs. I’m sure it’s published online somewhere.” She scrolls a bit and then jumps slightly in her seat. “Here it is!” She holds out her phone to show me that in fact she’s found the list online. “Ugh, it starts at five hundred and counts down.”

“Of course it does. Why would anyone look if they already knew what the number one song was?”

She eyes me playfully as she starts to scroll. “Ha! This list literally goes from The Rolling Stones song ‘Brown Sugar’ at number four ninety-five to R. Kelly’s ‘Ignition (Remix)’ at number four ninety-four.” She rolls her body in her seat as she sings the song about having every man wishing.

“Damn, girl,” I drawl out, and she laughs in response.

She might find it funny, but I have to adjust my pants just from the way she moved her body like she was dancing to the very seductive song.

“I used to love that song.”

“Then, you agree that it’s one of the best around?”

She squints her face. “I don’t know about that. Especially with all the trouble he’s gotten into lately.” She raises her eyebrows as she continues to scroll. “This list has everything. Kelly Clarkson, Beastie Boys, The Supremes, and Van Morrison. Talk about an eclectic mix.”

“That’s what I liked about it. It spanned across all genres.”

“They really have Jay-Z’s ‘Big Pimpin’ ’ and Missy Elliott’s ‘Get Ur Freak On’ on here?”

“Do you not agree?”

She shrugs. “I mean, do I think that’s in the same category as John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’? No, not really.” She puts her phone down. “I’m only on song four thirty-five. This is going to take forever. But you still haven’t answered my question. What’s your favorite?”

I drum my fingers on the steering wheel as I think. “I guess it depends on the type of song. I have favorites that are fast and favorites that are slow.”

“Then, tell me both.”

“For a fast one, I love to play Big & Rich’s song ‘Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy).’ ” I smirk in her direction, and she laughs out loud.

Boy, what I would give for her to ride this cowboy right now.

“Yeah, because I’m sure you try to get all the girls to picture riding you.”

I shrug with a grin slowly growing on my face. “Hey, sex sells, right?”

“Oh jeez.” She rolls her eyes. “When did that song come out? I thought you only played really old country.”

“I think around 2004.”

She tries to hide her expression as she nods. It’s the cutest I’ve seen her react to anything, but I get the feeling she’s about to tease me mercilessly. If I get that grin beforehand, she can mess with me as much as she wants.

“What?”

“I was twelve.”

“And I was … never mind.”

She giggles and then asks, “Okay, what about the slow one?”

“ ‘The Dance’ by Garth Brooks.”

She tilts her head, like she’s thinking. “I’m trying to remember that one.”

I drop my head to my chest, shaking it briefly before looking back to the road.

“What?” she asks, lightly smacking my arm.

I grab her hand and keep it on my thigh, loving the complete feeling I get from just having her skin against mine.

“You weren’t even born when that song came out.” I glance her way, and she’s got the cutest grin on her face as she shrugs her shoulders. “I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance,” I repeat my favorite lyrics from the song.

She pauses, taking me in. “I like that. Have you had a lot of those moments in your life?”

I let out a breath as my life flashes before my eyes. My parents. My divorce. My past. I decide not to go there. “I guess we all do when

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