Page 24 of The Lyrics of Love

The video had been his last-ditch effort. His last bit of hope to urge her to come around and give him that second chance.

And it had been for naught.

Nash tossed his cell on the coffee table in front of him and stood. At least he would get a hit out of the hurtful experience. If he could write one song, he could write more than one while he was in the Cove. And his gut told him more than a few would be about Rylie Robinson. Raw, painful emotions being brought to life was the backbone of country music. He still didn’t understand why he’d been so taken with Rylie, much less with the speed of the attraction. But she’d made her choice.

It wasn’t him. It would never be him.

He needed to get out of the house. Nature called to him. He would go for a walk. Clear his head. Think about anything except Rylie Robinson.

Nash left the house, a heaviness blanketing him. He walked along the road his rental was on, a few cars passing by him. He told himself that he had come to Maple Cove to make a new start in his life and career. Write some new songs. Get his act together. Think about what he wanted in his career and from life. But misery filled him. He didn’t think he could be in the same town Rylie was and get anything done. No woman had ever made such a deep, instant impression upon him. The fact that she wanted nothing to do with him brought a physical ache.

He decided to leave Maple Cove in the morning. He’d already paid upfront for two months and wouldn’t begrudge the real estate agent keeping those funds. He considered going to stay closer to Billy in Salty Point but decided that wouldn’t be far enough away. No, he would wallow in unhappiness if he stayed anywhere in the area and would worry about running into Rylie if he did.

It was time to go back to the farm. Back to Nashville. Back to Pops.

Nash turned around and trod back the way he had come, ignoring the scenic beauty surrounding him. If he hadn’t met Rylie, he would have been inspired by living in the Cove for a short period. Her rejection tainted everything about the place now. It would be impossible to think and work. He would return to Tennessee.

He saw the mailbox marked with the house number that was his rental’s and turned to walk up the drive, which had to be a quarter mile long. As he drew closer, he saw a vehicle parked behind his truck.

One he recognized.

Nash’s heart began to hammer against his ribs. His mouth grew dry. He picked up his pace, not quite running, but awfully close to it. As he approached, he caught sight of Rylie sitting in the porch swung.

She saw him, too, and stood. Their gazes met, and he continued to look at her as he walked up the rest of the drive and the porch steps.

“Do you not answer your phone?” she accused, her tone sharp.

“I... I guess I left it inside when I went to walk.”

She blew out a breath. “You send me a video of the most moving song I have ever heard—and then you just go for a stroll without your phone?”

He grinned sheepishly, his insides dancing with joy because she had come. “Well, the song is three-and-a-half minutes long. Almost. I waited. When I didn’t hear from you, I figured you hadn’t liked it. Or you hadn’t bothered to listen to it.”

Tears filled her clear eyes. “You idiot. I had to wait for everyone to leave so I could listen to it in private. And it moved me so much, I had to listen to it a second time. I did text you back.” She swallowed. “When you didn’t answer, I came straight here.”

His grinned widened into a smile. “You did?”

“I did,” she huffed. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home ever since.”

Nash reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “So, you liked it?”

“No.”

His heart sank at her quick response.

“I absolutely loved it.”

He smiled. “You did?”

“I did. It moved me like nothing I’ve ever heard. Knowing it was written about me—about us—made it poignant.”

A tear cascaded down her cheek, and he brushed it away. He cupped her cheek. “Did you hang around this long to tell me that you’re willing to give me another shot?”

“Yes.” The word was so soft, he almost didn’t hear it.

Nash stroked her cheek with his fingers. “I’m glad.”

“Me, too.”

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