Chapter Four
Oh man. How was Darius supposed to concentrate on “Light My Fire” when the woman from the stuck Saab was out there dancing in that red top? And those curve-hugging jeans? And those flirtatious hair tosses?
Darius caught a glance from the band’s singer as he came close to falling behind the beat. After getting held up by the mud-rescue situation, he’d barely made it up the peninsula in time for a quick rehearsal. Luckily, they were pros, and he was pretty damn good himself, for an amateur. He used to play back in Texas, and still did when he could find someone to jam with.
Oh s**t. Now the woman—Kate, he remembered—was tossing back an entire glass of something that looked like tequila. That couldn’t be good. The friends she was dancing with would probably take her home, and
