I’ve fallen in love with you,
And now I’m bleeding and bruised.
’Cause I let down my guard,
And I fell pretty hard...
The audience was rapt. She sensed it as well as saw it when her gaze swept the room. A few couples were wrapped in each other’s arms, and several others swayed to the music. A pair of teenagers even got up and started dancing. She was glad to see it was being received so well. It wasn’t exactly a happy song, but it had come from her heart—from the deepest part of her injured pride and wounded spirit.
She launched into the bridge and caught a few people brushing tears from their eyes. She kept going, into the final round of the chorus.
What else can I do?
I’ve fallen in love with you.
She strummed the final notes on her guitar and stepped back from the microphone as her audience launched to their feet, clapping and whistling in a standing ovation. She smiled and gave a tiny bow, pleased with the reaction and doubly grateful that she’d made it through the song without breaking down. She’d had more than one crying session when she wrote it, thinking about Sawyer and how much she missed him.
But then, as if the music had conjured him, her eyes drifted to the back of the room, and there he stood.
Sawyer was here.
HOW LONG HAD he been standing there? And how much had he heard? Enough, she guessed, because he was clapping along with the rest of them, as though he’d witnessed a fair share of her performance. He was too far away for her to read his expression. Had he realized the song was about him? She hoped not. It was one thing to bare her soul before an audience, but it was another to reveal her insecurities to the man who’d caused them.
What was he doing here anyway? How had he found out where she’d be tonight? Unless someone at the restaurant told him. Her weekly gig at the Lighthouse was well known. She supposed any one of her coworkers could have mentioned it to him. But then, the idea of him actually having gone to Callahan’s looking for her gave her a tiny thrill. He’d been true to his word and tried to see her.
And she, of course, had left him hanging. Stood him up. The stunt still didn’t rest well with her, but a part of her was pleased that he’d gone to the trouble of finding out where she would be. Though she didn’t plan on forgiving him just because he’d made a little effort. She was still miffed that he’d appeared like he had yesterday, showing up where she worked and expecting her to drop everything for him.
She’d like to see how much he enjoyed being put on the spot like that.
She stepped up to the mic again, an idea taking hold. “Thank you,” she said as the applause began to die down, and people resumed their seats. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“It was worth the wait,” Jeremy called from his table, and she gave a nod of thanks in his direction.
“I have another surprise for you this evening.”
She sensed a ripple of interest run through the crowd. “Some of you know that I lived on the road for years, performing with my...” She paused for a second as she tried to find an appropriate word other than boyfriend. “A mate of mine,” she amended. She didn’t look in Sawyer’s direction, but from the corner of her eye, she thought she noticed him straighten.
“Now, for those of you who are new to the area, I should tell you that my friend went on to bigger and better things. He’s known now for his debut album, Chasing the Wild, and he recently won American Heartland Radio’s Artist of the Year award.”
A few whispers ran through the room. Rory couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but she recognized Sawyer’s name being mentioned.
“It’s been a while since he’s been back home, but tonight, we have the privilege of his presence, as well as a performance.”
She finally looked at Sawyer, her gaze cutting straight to the back of the room and meeting his eyes.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d all welcome Sawyer Landry to the stage.”
As the room erupted into shouts and applause, she smirked in his direction.
Now he’d see what it was like to be put on the spot.
* * *
SAWYER HAD TO give her credit. He hadn’t expected Rory to point him out like she had, much less try to push him into a performance. He’d hoped to speak to her privately, after her set was over. No chance of that happening now. Though he’d done pretty well not being recognized until Rory pointed him out. Most of the coffee-shop patrons were focused on the stage when he’d slipped inside, just in time to hear Rory begin her song.
The song that still had awareness humming in his veins. The mournful melody and soulful lyrics had put him to shame with their truth. He marveled at his own selfishness back then. But he could only dwell on his mistakes so long. He had to focus his efforts on making it up to her.
And if she wanted him to take center stage in this café, then that’s what he would do. As more and more customers turned in his direction, he kept his sights set on the stage and Rory. He tipped his head toward her, acknowledging the challenge, and began making his way from the back of the room up to the front. Several hands clapped him on his back. There were likely former friends here that he’d greet later, but for now, he had a show to put on.
As he took the two short steps onto the platform, Rory began to remove her guitar. She placed it on its stand and moved as if she planned to leave. His hand grabbed her wrist before she could escape. He felt her pulse jumping erratically beneath the skin. Was it the thrill of performing that had her blood pumping? Or did he have something to do with that reaction?
“Don’t go too far,” he warned her.
She shrugged. “Okay.”
“Promise me.”
She looked over his shoulder and out at the audience. He didn’t want her trying to sneak out while he was distracted. She’d never been one to break a promise, which is why he tried to force one from her.
“Give me your word that you’re staying.”
She shifted uncomfortably, and he wondered if her plan had been to bolt as soon as she got the chance.
“I’m staying,” she agreed.
He waited, eyeing her, uncaring about the impatient murmurs sounding behind him. She sighed and tugged her wrist free from his grasp.
“I promise,” she agreed.
Satisfied, he reached for the guitar she’d set aside and adjusted the strap to better fit his broad shoulders. Rory hopped off the stage and took a place at the bar, people moving to accommodate her. He kept a steady eye on her until she nodded, and he decided she’d keep her word.
Only then did he turn to the audience.
“How y’all doing tonight?” It was the standard way he opened his performances, giving his audience the chance to express their enthusiasm. Tonight was no exception. The crowded coffeehouse exploded with applause, whistles and hollering.
“How about Miss Rory Callahan? She’s something, isn’t she?”
More shouts and some foot stomping. He glanced Rory’s way, and she was focused solely on him, ignoring the reactions from the crowd. He strummed a few notes to get a feel for the instrument.
“I hope you don’t mind me taking the spotlight away from Rory, since she’s the one you came to see.”
The audience responded with reassurances as Sawyer finished tuning the guitar to his satisfaction.