A chance to perform anonymously?
I dart through the crowd and make it to the stage before anyone can beat me … or Patty can stop me. I stand on the stage and revel in the feeling of hiding in plain sight again.
I’ve never consciously imitated my momma. In fact, I’ve spent a great deal of effort trying to differentiate myself from her—even before anyone knew who I was.
But tonight?
I’m all Winona.
“Well, how y’all doin’ tonight?” I call into the microphone, flattening my vowels and laying on the charm that made Momma an overnight CMT darling. “I’mWinettaWilliams. What do y’all say to a littleHeartbreak Hustle?” The emcee hands me a guitar as the crowd goes wild. I glance out from the stage into the darkness of the bar. “I just need my lead guitaristto come slap some sugar on these here strings. Baby, where you at?”
Patty doesn’t get up immediately.
But another, very drunk man whoops and starts making his way toward the stage.
“I’ll be your baby anytime,” he slurs.
I widen my eyes, and the crowd laughs, but a nervous chill washes over me.
Is Patty seriously going to leave me hanging?
Before the drunk guy can make it up to me, Patty comes into view and places a firm hand on the man’s shoulder.
“The lady was talking to me,” he says.
I can’t help but smile at the protective set of his jaw or the inferno in his eyes as he sits the man down and storms onto the stage.
Wow.
I did not know I had a thing for grumps until this moment.
But Patty going full tall, dark, and brooding in his well-fitted jeans and white T-shirt with my lipstick branding it?
That’s four-alarm fire hot.
He gets up on stage, takes my elbow like we’ve done this a hundred times, and leans in.
His lips skim my ear, making my eyes flutter closed.
“Are we really playingHeartbreak Hustlewhen we could playWhiskey and White LiesorHe Ain’t Cryin’ (But I Am)instead?” he asks.
“It’s a fan favorite for a reason,” I reply, making sure to let my own lips drift against his cheek.
His hand on my elbow tightens, and when I hear his breath catch, I start regretting not staying in to watch the Weather Channel.
“The real question is if you can hang with my dad’s guitar solo.”
With one final squeeze, he backs up and gives me a flat gaze, and I know exactly what that means.
Challenge accepted.
Playing with Patty is even more fun than it was the first time.
It’s like he’s a different person when he’s playing music.
No, not a different person—a more complete person.
He needs to be immersed in music to feel fully.
