The two were spectacular. They sang harmony, added their own sound effects, and when they reached the chorus, the bartender waved at the room and yelled, “You bastards have had plenty to drink. Join your asses in—or I’m cutting you all off.”

Laughter ran through the room, and everyone in the place started to sing.

Mouth open, Frankie stared. It was amazing.

As she returned to serving drinks, Caz and the bartender sang another tune, and this time the customers didn’t wait to join in.

When she returned to the bar the next time, the music was still bubbling in her veins. She’d sung along, too. Everyone in the place was smiling.

“That was incredible,” she said to Audrey as she set her drink orders down.

Audrey grinned. “It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“Does that happen a lot? He”—Frankie motioned to the giant bartender—“he kept working as he sang and didn’t seem to think anything about it.”

“He didn’t.” Audrey took a sip of her drink. “He and his brothers grew up singing together. Even more than the rest, Bull thinks music is meant to be shared.”

“Bull? He’s called Bull?” Frankie took stock of the bartender. At least six-four with muscles piled on muscles. There was a wrestler-actor named the Rock, and Bull was like Dwayne Johnson’s bigger, deadlier brother. A lot deadlier. Despite the man’s easy smile, those dark eyes were watchful, always aware of everything and everyone in the room. His stance and his body language were always in a ready state. Yes, she’d guess he’d lived through some ugly stuff. “Bull seems like a good name for him.”

“Apparently, he had an encounter with a bull moose when he was a child—and wanted to grow into the name.”

“An encounter? Is that what we’re calling it?” A man put his arm around Audrey, kissed her cheek, and grinned at Frankie. “The moose chased Bull through the trees and would’ve stomped him good if Mako—our father—hadn’t dropped it.”

“Wait, what? He was chased by a moose as a kid?” Frankie’s eyes were probably popping out of her head.

“Viejo, you’re scaring the cheechako,” Caz chided.

“Sorry.” Audrey’s guy chuckled. “It didn’t catch him. He laughed his ass off afterward.”

“Of course he did.” Audrey rolled her eyes. “You idiots have no common sense about danger. None whatsoever.”

“So harsh, champ,” Bull said to Audrey before setting the last drink on Frankie’s tray. “It’s Frankie, right?”

She nodded, keeping her expression cool. He might be an awesome singing bartender with an interesting background, but he was also a heart-destroying bastardo.

“Are you doing all right? Any problems out there?” His dark eyes held concern. As if he’d flatten any trouble-making customers for her.