Page 121 of Sing You Home (Nashville Star 1)

“The life we live ain’t been perfect, but it’s been perfect with you ...”

Luke’s staring at her like she’s his spotlight. Like she’s the only one he’s playing for.

Heat creeps up her cheeks, her breath held tight in her chest. It’s her song, being sung in front of everyone. The crowd is hushed and reverential, almost as if they recognize who the song is for. Eyes are on Sal, some patrons elbowing each other in recognition, but she barely notices the attention. She only has eyes for Luke.

When they finish, the crowd erupts. Hoots and hollers and hard boot stomps flood the room. Sal cheers like a banshee, while beside her, Emmy Lou sticks her fingers in her mouth and whistles sharp. The applause goes long and loud into the night, and after the second encore, the Brothers Kincaid finally call it quits.

As the house lights come on, Luke extends his hand down to Sal. He pulls her up on stage, pulls her into his strong arms.

“I’m so proud of you,” she says, kissing him softly.

He stares back at her, holding her so tight they could be one. “Darlin’, havin’ you here, it means more to me than you can ever imagine.”

“My song.” Sal slides a hand up to brace his chest. His heartbeat pumps beneath her palm. She’s so full of pride she could burst. “That’s the song you play. At the Opry.”

His eyes widen, turn serious. Then he shakes his head. “Sal, usin’ you for our big comeback, it don’t feel right.”

She stares at him, all her love and pride and hope dancing in the air between them. She wants to show him there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.

Luke—he is all her roads and then some. Protector. Lover. Friend. Husband. Together, they can get through anything.

Sal stands on tiptoes to press a tender kiss to his lips. A kiss of promise. Of the future. “I want you to. I’m yours, Luke Kincaid. And I want the world to know it.”

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