Page 42 of Echoes of a Southern Song

She nods. “I’ve just been so slammed. It’s actually been kind of fun, though. This older couple came in because they saw one of my photos online. Said they drove from two towns over.”

I look at her, impressed. “Look at you, local influencer.”

She laughs. “Hardly. But it was nice. Made me feel like... I don’t know, like I was doing something that mattered.”

“You are,” I say, and I mean it.

She goes quiet for a second, then shrugs. “Still, it’s been a lot. And the whole trial thing’s just lingering. I keep waiting for a date. Something solid. But it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop, but in slow motion.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I get that. Waiting’s the worst part.”

“What about you?” she asks, shifting to face me. “How’s the bar been?”

I lean back, letting the memories of the last few nights wash over me. “Crowd’s been steady. Some great nights. Got a request for an encore last night that turned into me playing two extra songs.”

She grins. “Look at you, Mr. Rockstar.”

I snort. “Hardly. But it felt good. Except for that one song—this song. It just tanked. First time I’ve felt like people didn’t connect, you know? It was humiliating. I was up there with eyeballs on me and looking at me like I was annoying them instead of entertaining them.”

“They will now. It’s good. Real. It sounds like you again. You can’t have number ones with every song. You’ve set a very high bar for yourself. That’s good and bad.”

I look at her hand in mine, her fingers threaded through like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I’ve missed this. Missed her. She’s become such a huge part of my life.

“Wish we had more time,” I say quietly.

“Me too,” she says. “Feels like we’re always passing like ships in the night lately.”

I kiss her again, because I can’t not. She leans in to it. For a second I let myself imagine what it would be like if we didn’t have to keep scheduling our lives around stolen moments like this.

When we pull apart, I sigh. “You know I’d love nothing more than to keep you out here all night.”

“I know,” she says softly.

“But you’ve got to be up in a few hours to open, and I don’t want you falling asleep with your face in a batch of muffin batter.”

She laughs. “Tempting, though.”

I stand, brushing off my jeans. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

I put the fire out, dumping a bottle of water over it and then covering it with dirt. The woods are quiet... peaceful. Neither of us talks much on the way back. It’s a comfortable silence.

When we reach her porch, she turns to face me. “Thanks for letting me crash your solo session.”

“Anytime,” I say. “Actually scratch that. All the time. I want more nights like this.”

“Me too.”

I kiss her again, one last time, lingering longer than I probably should.

But eventually, she steps back. “Goodnight, Jack.”

“Night, Jinnie.”

I watch her go inside, the door closing gently behind her. I walk back to my campsite, feeling better and worse at the same time. I miss her. I want those days back. The part that scares me the most is we won’t ever get those back. If Sam keeps up with his bullshit, she’s going to be working her ass off for the foreseeable future to cover legal fees.

And I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what Sam wants. He’s punishing her. I can’t understand why. He left her.