Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 67(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Oh, Grady definitely knew this was happening. I should be angry with him, too, for blindsiding me this way.
But another part . . .
Another part aches with longing for the man who’s pouring out his heart up on that stage. He’s being brave in a way he never was before.
He’s willing to fall on his face in front of everyone just to show how much he cares. About me. About us. About the things that light us both up.
Right now, he’s a cowboy and a musician. A man and a tender human being. Those things aren’t mutually exclusive concepts for him anymore.
Weston . . . I mean, he just offered us all proof that he really has changed, didn’t he?
He’s wearing his heart on his sleeve, willing to embarrass himself to show he doesn’t give a damn what anyone other than me thinks. If that’s not a man in love . . .
Oh God oh God oh God.
Weston wraps up the song with a rousing strum on his guitar. The place goes nuts. Everyone’s screaming and jumping up and down and giving me pats on the shoulder. They know he sang that song for me, because everyone knows everything in this small town.
“One more song!” people chant.
But Weston ducks underneath the guitar strap and hands the instrument back to its owner. Leaning into the microphone, he says, “Stop lyin’, y’all. You don’t wanna hear me sing anymore.” Then he looks at me. “I got better things to do. I hope. Josie, can I have the next dance?”
“I knew nothing about this,” Quinn hisses in my ear. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Laughing—maybe I’m crying a little too—I let go of Quinn’s hand. “Oh, honey, I want to dance with him.”
She eyes me. “Be careful?”
“And by that you mean do the opposite.”
“Yes.” She grins, then leans in to kiss my cheek. “That was one heck of a grovel. Holler if you need me. Your daddy’s got his truck if you need us to run him over. Weston.”
“Best wingwoman ever.”
“Go get ’em, cowgirl.”
Next thing I know, Weston is on the dance floor beside me. I fist my hand in his shirt and yank him toward me.
He laughs as his body stumbles into mine, even as I see his eyes glint with tears. “I take it that’s a yes?”
Behind us, Frisky Whisky is getting back up on stage. I have a minute, maybe less, to say what I wanna say. He digs a handful of bar napkins out of his back pocket and holds them out to me. “Here.”
I look down at the napkins. “Did you—”
“I grabbed ’em for me. You know how I get. Now everyone else knows too.”
I laugh, too, despite the tears that continue to leak out of my eyes. “This was your idea? The song and the performance and everything?”
“Yes. My therapist helped me come up with it.”
I gape at him. “You’re in therapy?”
“Needed some help getting out of my own head. I’ve wanted you back this whole time, but I only worked up the courage to seek the help I needed to do that three years ago. I was tired of pretending to be someone I wasn’t. I missed you, and I missed who I was when we were together.”
“Three years?” I loop my arms around his neck, overwhelmed by the urge to kiss him. “You’ve been in therapy for three years? For me?”
“For you, Josie. Everything I do is for you.”
My heart swells.
I grab a napkin out of his outstretched hand. But instead of using it to dry my tears, I crumple it in my fist.
Reaching up, I use my thumbs to wipe away Wes’s tears. His eyes go wide, his full lips parting as I close the space between us.
“You’re awful convincing,” I say.
“I’m here, Josie. I’ll always be here for you, waiting.”
“For what?”
“For you to feel at home with me again.”
Once upon a time, this man really was my home. I could be myself with him in a way that was so freeing it made my head spin. I’ve missed that. So dang much.
Being famous has its perks. I’m not complaining. But it’s hard feeling like people only like you because they want something. It seems like everybody I’ve gotten to know since my career took off inevitably has an ask. Put in a good word. Come to my event. Join forces with me and we’ll split the profits.
Weston only wanted me, just as I was. Just as I am.
I don’t know where this leaves us or what we are now. I don’t know how we’d make this work.
But I do know I miss the warmth of his body and the taste of his mouth.
I do know I’m not going to spend another minute missing him. Because he’s here now. And suddenly everything is different.