Page 120 of Sing You Home (Nashville Star 1)

But there’s also something else. An energy to the room. An excitement. About the band.

About where they’re going. Without a doubt, this is the fire Luke’s been missing. It’s burning. The stage calling to him like nothing he’s ever known.

Pacing around the room, Jace gives the wall his typical good-luck knock. The old drywall crumbles instantly, leaving behind a noticeable hole. Jace backs away, hands out. “Man, what’d I do?”

But Luke’s grinning. He likes it. They all do. This run-down shitty dressing room reminds them where they came from. Rowdy honky-tonks. Street corners. Suitcases.

This was why they started. Not the Opry. Not the money. This.

The music.

“Shit,” Seth laughs. “If this don’t feel like we’re startin’ out all over again, nothing does.”

As he takes in the room, relief and joy hit Luke like a shot of whiskey. He’s heady with the knowledge that he is here. Back. Ready to take the stage with his brothers.

Turning to Seth and Jace, Luke claps each of them on their shoulders. “We’re gonna sing tonight, and we’re gonna sing it right.”

“Damn straight,” Jace echoes.

Luke blows out a breath. “What y’all have done for me ... bein’ there after Sal ... it can never be repaid. You two gave me the strength I needed to get back and I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. So thank you.”

Jace nods his head for a long moment.

Seth clears his throat. Wiping his eyes, he reaches out to shove Luke away. “Why’re you doin’ this, man? You’re an asshole.”

Laughing, Luke swipes the set list from the table. As he scans it, something tugs at him. A feeling of change. Of moving forward, of second chances.

It feels right. Tonight.

Crossing off the last song, Luke holds the revised set list out to his brother and best friend. “Tonight, we play ‘Sal’s Song.’”

By nine p.m. the crowd is rowdy and ready and so is Sal. She’s seated right up front with Emmy Lou at a cheap card table. The venue isn’t what Sal expected, with its nondescript location and puddles of beer on the floor, but she likes it. It feels like home.

“They love this stuff,” Emmy Lou offers, seeing Sal studying the rickety old stage. “Peanuts on the floor, bar fights.” Emmy Lou smirks. “Stages that look like they’ll collapse any minute.”

Sal laughs.

It’s then that the lights dim and the curtains part.

When the Brothers Kincaid take the stage, the audience cheers and whoops. Beers are raised high in the air, but a hush falls over the room as they launch into their first number. An energetic fiddle-busting tune just begging the crowd to get up and dance.

When they’re finished, Luke steps up to the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are the Brothers Kincaid, and thank y’all for coming down to the Station Inn to see our performance tonight. It’s an important night for us, seein’ as how there’re some very special people in the audience.”

A shiver runs down Sal’s spine as Luke meets her eyes and holds them steady, the connection between them laser-sharp and electric.

Then, Luke’s voice is shining out like spun silk as they launch into their second song.

Effortless the way they play. Better than she’s ever seen them. Strapped with his guitar, Sal thinks Luke’s the finest specimen of a man she’s ever seen. Confident but not cocky. So natural, so magnetic, if she weren’t sitting down, her knees would buckle.

“They’re so good,” Sal whispers, leaning across the table to grip Emmy Lou’s hand.

Smiling, Emmy Lou nods. She squeezes Sal’s hand back with a ferocious intensity that has Sal feeling like she belongs. Really belongs. Like she can almost remember always doing this and never wanting to be anywhere else.

The evening passes in a blur of song. The Brothers Kincaid’s performance is high-energy and enthusiastic. For one night it’s easy for Sal to forget her worries, Roy lurking in the shadows, her shitty memory. For one night it’s just her and Luke in that bar, and he’s—

Holy shit, he’s singing to her.

Sal snaps to attention as the familiar song hits her eardrums.

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