Page 155 of Need You Now

Seth picks up his fiddle and steadies his bow. He’s ready and wired to play. Nervous like nothing else. Luke always writes the music. Or they write it together. But this. This is his song. His heart slapped on a piece of paper, ready to be sucked through a microphone to be pumped out on the radio. Christ.

He looks up as Luke pushes through the door, guitar in his hands. “You nervous?” his brother asks.

He sighs. Luke’s got him pegged. Still, he floats him a lopsided grin. “It’s just a damn song, man.”

But as soon as he says it and looks up, his words cut off. Lacey stands in the booth, watching him through the window. Her big green eyes locked on him like they’ll never let him loose.

It’s more than a song. It’s her. One he’ll sing again and again. For the rest of his life, if he can.

He wants to make everything better for her. She’d understandably freaked out last night when he mentioned moving out of the farmhouse. But that’s Lacey. Type A. A planner. He understands, loves that about her, but wishes she wouldn’t panic. They’ll figure it out. Together. And the first thing on Seth’s agenda is an apartment. One with a big-as-hell bathroom.

Luke bellies up to the microphone. “You ready?”

Seth grins. Just his fiddle, Luke’s guitar and their voices.

Just like the good old days.

“Ready.”

Seth clears his throat. He opens his mouth and he sings.

I was reckless, I was wild

Been making the same damn mistakes

Since I was a child

Beat myself up for half my life

Left is right, right is wrong

I’ve always been someone a little more lost than found ...

It always was one hell of a time,

till I got a case of them ol’ Tennessee blues

Broken, beat up until you stomped across my heart

With the ice-cold tip of your high-heeled shoe

But then you leaned down

Girl, the dip of your lips to mine

I still don’t think I’ve ever felt more damn alive

What’s the point of this ol’ life

If we don’t do it together?

Because, girl, I’m needin’ you, needin’ you, needin’ you now

Needin’ you now and forever ...

Tears fill Lacey’s eyes as Seth’s deep rumble wraps her up in its velvety smoothness. He’s singing to her. He’s inside the song, holding it close like a heartbeat, his fiddle a low warble of wonder. Not to mention the way he’s looking at her. Like she’s his sheet music.

She’s the song.

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