Page 32 of Country Heat

“In fact, Mr. Edwards,” I say as I lean down and hover my lips over his. “I think we’re just perfect.”

“Sounds right to me,” my wonderful man says before he raises his mouth and kisses me.

Record sales are nice.

But this right here?

This is the real prize.

EPILOGUE

Cash

One year later…

The vast crowd roars as Lola and I step onto the stage. It’s an ocean of cheering, smiling faces.

For the first time ina long time, I don’t recoil from it. I don’t hate it. I just take it all in, looking at all of the excited people.

I grin as I glance at my girl while she soaks it all in too, loving the love the fans are giving us.

Thirty-five cities. One international tour. One brand new album we made together, every track oozing with the passion and fire that’s been burning between us.

Recording this album with Lola was the best time of my life. I’ve never felt more creative. I’ve never been so in the moment. It was like working with my love soul mate and my creative soul mate at the same time. That’s what she is. She’s everything to me.

Lola takes my hand and raises our arms. The crowd erupts. It’s deafening. I feel the cheers echoing through my body.

The song that poured out of me after I first met her—Country Heat—has been number one since the day it was released. It’s a monster hit.

I owe it all to her. She’s my muse. She’s my savior. She’s my everything.

Our little girl, Monica, is backstage with Lola’s mom. She’s another ray of sunshine. This old man’s life keeps getting better and better.

Lola looks at me and smiles as we lower our hands and grab our guitars. I nod my head to my drummer Marc and then to Lola’s guitarists, Sasha and Rachel. They’re good friends of ours and we hang out with them all the time with their boyfriends, Graham Marshall and Tristan Rowe from Stranger Danger. I still find it surreal that three amazing couples came out of Graham Marshall’s party two years ago. When does that ever happen in the music industry?

I throw my guitar strap over my shoulder as I glance to the side of the stage where our managers, Karen and Bret are watching, hand-in-hand. They were immediately smitten when we introduced them and hit it off pretty quickly.

I’m so happy for Bret. I know I’ve put him through the wringer over the years, but those days are over. I’m taking it easy on him from now on. I’m even paying for their vacation next month—a three-week stay on a tiny Greek island in the middle of paradise. He deserves it.

“How are you, Tennessee?” Lola says into the mic and everyone cheers.

I love how happy everyone is. I take in all that positive energy and let it feed my soul.

There was a time I hated it, but I’m grateful for it now. For every fan, for every interaction, and for every moment thatour music can make life a little bit sweeter for these wonderful people.

It’s a gift.

Lola has shown me that this is my way of touching people. Of communicating with them. I don’t take it so lightly anymore. I cherish it.

We start playing the first song from our album,Struck By You, and the crowd joins in, singing and dancing and letting us know how much they love and appreciate our art.

We feed off their energy and excitement. I’ve never played with such enthusiasm, singing my lungs out and dancing on stage with my girl. My fingertips ache from the guitar strings, but it feels good. The pain feels nostalgic, just like it used to hurt when I played eighteen hours a day, never wanting to put my guitar down.

This new lease on life… This new mindset…

It’s all because of Lola. It’s all because of her.

She’s made me a better person. I want to be the man she deserves.

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