Page 96 of Four More The Merrier

"Quinn Dupree," my voice cracks a little. "You walked into my life and turned everything upside down. Made us all bettermusicians, and me a better man. Will you do me the honor of being my wife? Will you marry me?"

The spotlight catches the tears in her eyes as she nods, unable to speak. The arena erupts in cheers as I slip the ring onto her finger.

I look over at Beau, who's wiping a tear, Lyle with his shit eating grin as he finishes up his drumroll cadence, and Austen who blows her a kiss.

"I love you," she whispers against my ear as I pull her close.

"I love you too baby. The others have rings and speeches as well, I just figured we would leave that to the privacy of our own tin can."

"Good call," she laughs, as I spin her around.

"Jarron, honey," she whispers.

"Yeah baby?"

"Unless you want me to vomit on another shirt in front of a sold out crowd, please put me and guitar junior down."

44

QUINN

ONE YEAR LATER

The stage lights burn against my skin as I strum the final chord. My heart pounds with the rhythm of thousands of screaming fans. The energy in this arena feels electric, alive - so different from those early days playing in dive bars for tips.

"Thank you Florida!" I adjust the microphone stand, My belt buckle catching the spotlight. "Y'all have been amazing tonight!"

The roar grows louder. Signs wave in the crowd - some with my name, others with lyrics from my latest single. A year ago, I never would have imagined this. Now here I am, opening for Just South of Mason on our worldwide tour, with three platinum records under my belt.

"One more time!" I call out, launching into the chorus of my newest hit. The crowd sings every word back to me.

The final note rings out and I blow kisses to the crowd. "Florida, I love you! I hope you're ready for some Just South of Mason!"

I make my way backstage, my heart still racing from the performance. The crew room buzzes with pre-show energy, butmy eyes lock onto the sight that matters most - our tiny daughter cradled in Austen's arms.

"There's my girl." I cross the room, breathing in Macy's sweet baby scent as Austen passes her over. "Were you good for Da?"

"My perfect angel, as usual." Austen runs a hand through his shaggy hair. "Unlike her Daddy over there having a wardrobe crisis."

"It's not a crisis," Jarron tugs at his shirt collar. "The buttons are just being difficult."

"Here." I shift Macy to one arm and fix his collar with practiced ease. "Can't have you looking disheveled for the big debut."

"Here, give me my baby girl. You help the adult baby," Beau reaches out for Macy and I swear there's nothing hotter than a big burly man cradling a tiny infant.

"There's Papa's girl. One day you'll be out there just like Mama." It's bizzare how much our daughter looks like Beau. We've made sure to keep her out of the spotlight, it's only a matter of time before her photos are leaked and there's speculation. Because there's no doubt in my mind that Beau is her biological father. But baby girl lucked out in the father lottery and got four.

I reach for Macy, and Beau reluctantly gives her back.

He adjusts his bass strap, his gentle giant presence filling the room. He places a kiss to my forehead. "You ready for this, darlin'? First time we're playing it live."

"Oh she's ready, so is Mace." Lyle twirls his drumsticks, that familiar excited energy radiating off him. "Ain't that right baby girl, this one's special."

They gather around us, a familiar choreography we've perfected over the year. Jarron kisses me first, then Macy's forehead. "For my girls."

Austen's next, followed by Beau's bear hug that envelops both me and the baby. Lyle sneaks in last, dropping a quick peck on mine and Macy's cheek.

"Padre loves you Mace, and you too Mama."

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