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After we finished eating, we went out back and sat around the fire pit in the Wilson’s cozy backyard. Twinkle lights zigzagged over our heads from the house to the tree line and back again. The fire pit sat in the center of a brick patio that the boys had laid down with their daddy’s help when we were in high school, with wicker chairs and love seats circling it.
“How ’bout you play somethin’ for us, Laney?” Judd asked, grinning widely from the other side of the fire.
“I didn’t bring my guitar,” I said with a little laugh.
Snickers filled the air, and Judd looked pointedly at the door they’d installed in the fence between the Wilson house and my family’s home. “Then go get it.”
I sighed. “Are y’all sure you want—”
“Yes,” several of the others said, making me laugh again.
Tossing a look at Paisley, I rose from my chair and headed over to my parents’ house to retrieve my acoustic. When I came back out, they were arguing over which song I should play.
Several titles were tossed out and then batted away for one reason or another. I watched in amusement as I took my seat, noticing that Everett quietly sipped his beer and didn’t comment.
I shouldn’t be watching him this much. I shouldn’t be hoping he’d open his mouth and request one of my original songs for old times’ sake. Why would he? It wouldn’t be good for either of us, and yet there I was, mentally begging him to ask me to play “Fireflies” or “All Along.” Those were two of my favorite songs I’d ever written—about him or otherwise.
But no, he kept his eyes on the fire and his lips zipped except for when he put his bottle there to take a swig.
“Play ‘The One Who Got Away,’” Momma said, shooting me a wink from her seat next to Daddy.
“No, not that one,” Dakota said quickly, and thank goodness because my heart dropped into my gut like a boulder. “I’ve heard it too many times. I wanna hear something new.”
I shot her a grateful smile as Georgia said, “How about ‘Stars in the Summer’?”
It was another one about my time spent with Everett, but it was more upbeat and way less obvious than the first would have been. No one disagreed this time, so I started strumming and sang the first few lines, grinning when my sisters joined in on the chorus.
Aubree and Dakota inherited our daddy’s musical talent just as I had but didn’t have the desire to pursue a career in it. Neither had Daddy, actually. He’d played all his life and started a country band in high school, but they never tried to play anywhere other than his parents’ garage. Truth be told, it was a blessing for the world at large. They weren’t very good, according to Momma.
When we finished the upbeat tune, everyone clapped and cheered. My eyes searched for Everett automatically, but he was gone. He must have slipped out at some point while I’d been looking at my guitar or one of my sisters.
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed, but honestly, it shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise. Sometimes when I was playing, I got so lost in the moment that it was hard to tell what was going on around me. It helped a lot with the nerves when I played a large crowd or a stadium, but here it only made me feel a little lost in general.
I tried to act natural while I waited to see if he’d come back, chatting with the others as Aubree took the guitar and joked about how long it’d been since she picked one up and she wasn’t sure if she still knew what to do. She played a few chords of an Alanis Morissette song she’d loved when she was younger, and while everyone was distracted with her, I silently slipped into the house to see where Everett had gone.
“Hey,” I said when I found him leaning casually against the kitchen sink scrolling on his phone. “What’s up?”
“Nothin’. What’s up with you?”
“I just wanted to see where you went.”
He put the phone in his pocket, a small smile touching his lips for the briefest of seconds. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
I lifted my shoulders in a relaxed shrug and took a seat at the L-shaped kitchen counter. “Curious, I s’pose.”
I needed the counter between us because roll me up and call me pretty, the man looked delicious in a flannel with the sleeves cuffed. Almost as delectable as he did in that dang mechanic’s jumpsuit. And while Riley wore the heck out of a flannel shirt since it was practically the country boy’s uniform, he had nothing on Everett.
“How’ve you been?” I asked. “Really. Not the polite answer you gave me on the side of the road.”
“The polite answer was the truth. I’ve been great.”
I quirked a brow. “Really?”
“You said you were livin’ the dream. Isn’t that true?”
His eyes held a challenge in their chocolate-sauce depths, and I lifted my chin. “I guess it is.”
“What do you mean, you guess? You wanted to make it in Nashville, and you did. And you didn’t stop there. By definition, I’d say that’s ‘livin’ the dream.’” He pushed off the counter, something in my expression clearly interesting him. He stepped over and leaned his forearms on the marble between us. “Unless it’s not all you thought it would be?”
