Page 78 of Where the Music Grows

Then I see her—Jinnie, sitting front and center. She’s wearing a little extra makeup and wearing a skirt that makes me think about those beautiful legs wrapped around me. I know what she’s doing. She’s trying to look older. I don’t know if she looks older, but she sure as hell looks sexier.

I grin at her and take my seat on the stool. “Some of you guys have heard this before, but it never felt quite right. I wrote this song for someone special. I tweaked it, and now it’s exactly what I want it to be.”

Her breath catches when I start playing, the opening chords soft and intimate. I look directly into her eyes. The room quiets as I sing—about mistakes and fresh starts, about finding someone who sees the cracks in you and doesn’t look away.

Jinnie’s eyes are shining with unshed tears. Her fingers press to her lips as if she’s trying to stop herself from singing along. The song builds, the chorus swelling into something bold and hopeful. I pour my whole damn heart into it.

This is why I play. Not for fame, not for revenge. For moments like this—for connection, for the way music can say what words alone can’t. This song is for her. It’s to benefit her, and that feels better than a million people shouting my name.

The last note fades into thunderous applause. Jinnie’s on her feet, clapping harder than anyone.

The rest of the set flies by in a blur of chords and cheers. By the end, my tip jar is overflowing. Aggie’s already replaced it twice to make sure no one get sticky fingers.

Aggie gives me a thumbs-up from the bar when the crowd shouts for an encore.

I play another song before raising my hand and calling it a night.

I have no doubt in my mind Jinnie has enough for her lawyer now.

We leave together to go back to her house.

“That song...” She shakes her head. “Jack, it was beautiful.”

I squeeze her fingers. “Just the truth.”

“You’re not what I expected,” she says.

“Good.”

We get back to her place and go inside. She gets me a cold soda from the fridge and sits beside me. I eagerly gulp the drink, letting the cold liquid soothe my throat. My arm naturally goes around her as she leans against me.

“I think I’m falling for you,” she says softly.

“I know I’m falling for you.”

“What now?”

“Now we figure it out.”

* * *

JINNIE’S PHONE BUZZES on the nightstand, shattering the quiet of the morning. Jinnie stirs beside me.

“What was that?” she mutters.

“Your phone.”

I don’t want to open my eyes. I just know the sunlight is going to be streaming in.

She groans, reaching for it. “Who texts at six in the morning?”

She grabs the phone, and with one eye, she studies the screen. “Oh shit,” she whispers.

I sit up. “Everything okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s a message from my lawyer. Sam is in town. He’s contesting the annulment.”

THE END